Chapter 7
SEVEN
The bus hissed as it settled, as if heaving a great sigh of exhaustion. I commiserated. My legs were stiff from two days spent mostly folded into a seat, and I could feel the grime of travel and weariness clinging to my skin.
My heart skipped a beat as I stared out the window. Mountains loomed against the blue sky in the distance, just barely visible over the roof of the barber shop across the street. I was right. Kalispell was beautiful.
With Betty Jo’s help, I’d switched my ticket and traveled with her the whole way to Kalispell. I couldn’t quite believe I was really here.
“Ready?”
I turned to glance at Betty Jo and couldn’t help but smile. “I’m right behind you.”
Gathering my things, I followed her down the narrow aisle, past the driver, and down the steps. The second my feet hit the pavement, I breathed deep, feeling as though a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Figuratively, of course.
I winced as I adjusted the strap of my bag on my shoulder. What I wouldn’t give for a relaxing bath to clean up and soothe my tired muscles. But I was a long way from relaxing. First, I needed to find a place to stay. Then I needed to look for a job, find food…
I turned slowly, taking it all in. Kalispell stretched out in front of me—smaller than I expected, quieter too. There was something almost storybook about it. A row of storefronts. A few cars drifting by. This place had to be full of possibilities. I just had no idea where to start.
I barely had time to let the panic settle in before Betty Jo looped her arm through mine and gave me a cheerful tug. “Come on.”
“Wait—where are we going?” I stumbled half a step as she pulled me along.
She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she lifted her free hand and waved toward someone across the lot.
I shifted my gaze to the woman as we approached, and surprise rippled through me.
Even without an introduction, I knew exactly who it was.
Tall and elegantly slender, she would have been considered pretty except for the ferocious frown that pulled at her lips.
Betty Jo pulled me to a stop in front of the woman.“Lily, this is—”
“Marge,” I finished for her, my gaze fixed on the woman.
Though she was probably somewhere in the vicinity of Betty Jo’s age, she somehow looked far younger. And definitely meaner.
Marge looked me over from head to toe, her lips curved into something that resembled a grimace more than a smile. Without a single word she turned on her heel and started toward the car.
I blinked, caught somewhere between being confused and mildly offended.
Betty Jo just patted my arm, completely unfazed by her friend’s behavior. “Don’t mind her. She’s still upset over the divorce.”
I shook my head, digging in my heels. “I can’t—”
Betty Jo didn’t let go. Instead, she halted next to me, turning me to face her. She studied me for several long moments, her eyes searching mine.
“Come with us,” she said gently.
My chest tightened. I wanted to. God, how I wanted to.
But wanting something and deserving it weren’t the same thing. I’d already taken more from her than I had any right to—her time, her kindness, her attention. Her trust.
Guilt hit me square in the stomach, so hard I almost doubled over. “Betty Jo—”
“Take a deep breath,” she commanded.
“I’ll be fine,” I insisted, even as my mind raced ahead, trying and failing to figure out where I’d go next. A motel? A shelter?
I tried to pull free, instinct kicking in before I could stop it. A dozen emotions bubbled to the surface inside me, each fighting for dominance. Fear. Trepidation. Worry. It all hit me at once, overwhelming in its intensity. This—everything—was just too much.
Panic assailed me, and I glanced around frantically. My breaths came faster, my heart doing its best to break free of my ribcage. A few people milled around on the sidewalk, watching with curiosity and concern. I knew I was losing my shit right here in front of everyone, but I couldn’t help it.
Betty Jo placed both hands on my shoulders and gave a little squeeze. “Everything is going to be fine. You’re safe here.”
My throat burned. Tears blurred the edges of everything, catching me off guard. A sob burst free before I could stop it, and tears escaped from the corners of my eyes. I hastily swept them away, hating myself for showing weakness.
Betty Jo stood next to me until I’d calmed, her presence offering strength. When I finally felt like I could breathe again, I glanced up at her. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I think I understand.”
Silence descended for a moment, and I shifted awkwardly on my feet. She gave me a moment to gather my thoughts before speaking once more. “Come with us. Let us help you.”
I swallowed hard, blinking rapidly, still desperately trying to pull myself together. “Are you sure?”
Her smile came easily. “Of course I am.”
From the car, Marge’s voice cut through the moment. “You two coming or not?”
Betty Jo huffed out an exasperated sigh and shot a glare over her shoulder. “Hold your horses!”
She turned back to me with a roll of her eyes. “Her bark’s worse than her bite.”
I wasn’t entirely convinced, but I nodded anyway. I fell into step beside Betty Jo, letting her guide me forward, toward the future—unknown and uncertain but not entirely alone.
Marge glared at me as I approached, taking in my raggedy appearance and the tear tracks that stained my cheeks. She lifted a brow, then huffed a little and yanked open the door. Sliding in the driver seat, she slammed it, effectively shutting me out.
Betty Jo shot me a wry smile before moving to the passenger seat. I climbed into the back, trying to make myself as unobtrusive as possible as I settled my bag at my feet and buckled up.
No such luck.
Marge met my gaze in the rearview mirror and speared me with a venomous stare. Grabbing the keys she cranked the engine and glanced over at Betty Jo in the passenger seat. “You pick up a stray?”
Betty Jo didn’t give her the satisfaction of a response. She just glanced back at me, offering her signature bright smile. “You’ll love Pine Ridge.”
The name was completely new to me. Where was Pine Ridge, and why were we going there? Not for the first time, trepidation crept in. Had I made a mistake in trusting Betty Jo?
My confusion and worry must have shown, because she continued, “That’s where Marge lives. Pine Ridge is a tiny little place up in the mountains. Kalispell is the next largest town, and the only real direct route to get there.”
I nodded, still not completely convinced I’d made a wise choice. I, of all people, knew that appearances could be deceiving. It seemed like a strange twist of karma that I was now trapped in a vehicle with two virtual strangers.
Marge huffed, irritated at being ignored, and her eyes flicked to me again in the mirror as she shifted into gear. “What’s your story, girl?”
Betty Jo cleared her throat, a gentle admonition. Marge just scowled and steered the car out of the parking lot. “I don’t like people taking advantage of my friends.”
I quickly shook my head. “I’m not—I swear. We ended up on the same bus, and she was nice enough to help me out.”
“I’ll bet,” Marge muttered caustically.
“Marge.” The single word was a reprimand. Betty Jo glanced at me before turning a pointed gaze on Marge. “Everyone needs help sometimes. Isn’t that right?”
Ignoring Betty Jo’s jibe, Marge continued her inquisition. “Well? What do you plan to do for work?”
“I’ll do anything,” I said honestly. I had every intention of finding a job and settling down. I didn’t require much; just food to eat and a roof over my head. The where and how didn’t matter in the least.
Marge’s brow arched at my candid response. “What did you do before?”
Heat crept up my neck. I stared down at my hands, fingers knotted together in my lap. “I… I haven’t exactly had a real job before,” I admitted. “Things were a little… different… where I grew up. But I can cook, and I’m good at keeping house,” I added optimistically.
Instead of easing her concern, my statement seemed to put her more on guard. “Where you from?”
“Just outside of Berea,” I said.
Her gaze locked with mine in the mirror, and for a second it felt like she could see straight into my soul. “Why you running away?”
The direct question hit me with lethal force, and my shoulders curled inward.
If they knew the truth, if they knew the kind of people I’d been raised with, they would surely ask me to leave.
And I found that, with every passing moment, I wanted more and more to be accepted. But acceptance meant sharing.
I swallowed, my throat dry. They were helping me; I owed them something. If not the whole truth, then at least a piece of it.
“My dad died a few years ago,” I said slowly. “After that, I lived with my boyfriend.”
I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. “We were part of a… community. Our own kind of place.”
Betty Jo shifted slightly in her seat, glancing back at me again. “Not a good sort of people?”
I shook my head. “No.”
Silence fell in the car as the word settled between us.
Reluctantly, I continued, “The longer I was there, the more I realized that I just… didn’t fit in. I didn’t want to be part of that world anymore.”
It wasn’t the entire truth, but sharing anything else would put them in jeopardy—and me in jail.
Marge didn’t respond right away. She turned onto another street, the tires humming against the pavement as the world slowly spun by. The silence stretched just long enough to make me wonder what she was thinking, what judgement she’d already issued against me.
“Are they going to come looking for you?” she asked finally.
My stomach tightened. Being honest was a bitch.
“I hope not,” I murmured. “I think I lost them back in Berea.”
Marge’s gaze dipped briefly to the rearview mirror again, then back to the road. “That backpack all you got?”
I nodded. “I had to leave in a hurry, so I don’t have much.”
“ID?” she asked.
I shook my head. “No.”
I tried to explain without saying too much. “That wasn’t important where I come from. Especially for women.”
Marge let out a sharp huff of indignation, then spun the wheel a little harder than necessary as she took the next turn.
“Well,” she snapped, “it matters now.”