Chapter Fifteen
Two years had passed since I told Russell I loved him. Since he assured me of his love in return. And during that time, we’d become partners in more ways than one. We united in our goal to help his grandmother as her health deteriorated.
Some days, it felt like a lifetime ago that we’d lost Annette. I kept turning around expecting to see her at the library’s checkout desk. I tried to keep my grief inside for Russell’s sake. After all, she was his grandmother. Not mine.
Continuing her work helped us both, but Annette had made it all look so seamless—so well planned—in those final years of her life she’d spent teaching me how to take over the network when she died. Person comes through. Person leaves with next ride.
Not the case, though, on the overheated June evening as, once again, I sat in the station wagon, parked on the shoulder with Russell waiting at the county line for the newest arrival.
This time in the pouring rain.
Between two washed-out roads.
With a broken air conditioner.
At least the eight-track player worked, piping Fleetwood Mac through the speakers.
I fanned myself with a notepad, sweat making my legs stick to the seat, nerves stretched taut.
I just wish our maiden voyage in helping out could have been a better tribute to Annette, who’d died in her sleep six weeks earlier.
We’d barely had time to grieve her death and get our bearings in the organization.
Somehow Annette had always managed to be on time, while working her library job and pitching in at the family gas station.
But I’d managed to miss an all-important call about the timing.
Then Russell had to make an emergency repair on the station wagon after the radiator overheated.
Summer beach traffic had been rerouted through our little town because of road construction, which slowed us down even more once we got on the road.
How fitting that the storm clouds then unleashed a wall of water.
Even now the scent of radiator fluid clung to the vehicle, reminding me how close we’d come to failing tonight.
I touched Russell’s arm lightly. “Would you like a Coke? I’ve got a couple left in the cooler. Or maybe some snickerdoodles? They’re Annette’s recipe.”
“Nah. I’m good. Save them for the kid.”
“You’re right, that’s what Annette would do.”
Her funeral had packed the church, with people overflowing into the streets.
Children had come up to the altar, donating favorite books to the library with handwritten messages inside.
The stacks in front of the casket had been a beautifully heartbreaking tribute.
I just wished there had been a way to celebrate all the other lives she’d touched who needed to remain anonymous.
So, in honor of Annette, it was up to Russell and me to handle tonight’s operation—a sixteen-year-old girl, the youngest I’d ever known to come through without a family member.
I hadn’t been given many details, other than that her teacher and a pastor had reached out for help.
After both of her parents went to prison, she’d been sent to live with distant relatives who thought nothing of pimping her out.
Social services had been contacted multiple times, with no luck.
Our network was her last resort.
And we sat in the hot car like drowned rats with our windows open to keep from suffocating.
Russell swiped drops of rain off the face of his watch, his normal calm fraying. “We’re not gonna make it to the connecting pickup in time. She’ll have to spend the night.”
At least he didn’t blame me for throwing the schedule more out of whack by searching for Libby when she’d failed to show at the library.
She’d been “off” since imagining she saw a ghost wandering around town last week.
When pressed for details, she’d been hazy—simply saying everyone had a double in the world.
Although she’d been forgetful lately. We were all struggling and mourning in our own ways.
“Russell,” I sighed, wanting to kick myself, “I don’t know when we’ll be able to set up another transport for the next leg. Who’s going to trust us after how we botched this meetup?”
“Don’t ask me,” he said over the din of rain hammering the roof. “I’m wondering how Granny pulled this off on her own for so long.”
“She had a lot more practice. At least that’s what I keep telling myself.”
Russell’s cheeks puffed with an exhale. “We both need to take a breath. We’ll figure it out. Even Annette had occasional hiccups in her plans.”
None that I’d ever noticed. “You’re only saying that to make me feel better for chasing around after Libby.”
“I’m being honest. And while we’re being up-front, we both know when things derailed today.”
He left the words unspoken.
But he wasn’t wrong. Keith had skipped school.
Again. He’d become increasingly a handful, and Libby had spent her morning looking for him, only to find him back home in his room.
He’d been playing the Atari video system Russell had given him two weeks ago for his birthday.
The teen refused to say where else he’d been, still angry over not being allowed to get his driver’s license.
Libby had gone for a walk to cool off and never returned.
Russell plucked at his sweaty T-shirt. “Do you have any thoughts on where we should put this girl tonight? And for however many days it takes us to work out another plan?”
There weren’t a lot of temporary housing options in Bent Oak, and the few that existed were far from private. Discretion was everything in the network.
“The cabin maybe? It’s out of the way. If anyone asks, I’ll say she’s my cousin.” Even thinking about Annette’s cabin made my heart squeeze in my chest. We hadn’t made much progress in sorting through her things with the pain of losing her still so fresh.
“That’s probably the simplest solution.” He scratched his eyebrow. “Except ...”
I sighed. Hard. “It breaks Annette’s cardinal rule. Never use the cabin for a leg of the journey. Except Annette lived there then. It’s empty now. How about we decide when we see her? We’ll trust our instincts and take it from there.”
“Okay, I can see your point about letting the girl stay there temporarily—if our instincts tell us she’s not a risk.
At least Granny’s house would be put to good use.
” He skimmed back a strand of my hair that had slid loose from my ponytail.
“Of course, if you became my wife, we would have a ready-made home.”
My gut knotted. We’d been over this a half dozen times already. I loved him. He loved me. Why couldn’t that be enough?
“You know about my past. I can’t.” After telling him about my marriage, I’d revealed more snippets over time, gauging his reaction, waiting for the moment he would pull away from me. Because I wasn’t divorced. I couldn’t give him children—even if our lives magically became safe.
Or because I’d been placed in a psychiatric hospital.
Telling him that part had frightened me most. Except he deserved to know, to understand who I was and all those reasons why I couldn’t marry him. After each confession, he’d held me against his broad chest and told me again how much he loved me, whether I was Winnie or Eloise.
Now he linked hands with me, rubbing his thumb over my ring finger. “We don’t have to do the official wedding thing. I wouldn’t want to risk your safety, and that extra paper trail at the courthouse could be a problem.”
The way he cared for my well-being meant more to me than I could express, but I couldn’t be selfish. “You deserve so much more.”
“How about you let me decide what I deserve. What I want.” He cradled my face in his broad hands.
“I would like for us to wear my grandparents’ wedding bands.
If even an unofficial exchange of vows is too much for you, I don’t need the paper to feel married.
My heart is committed fully to loving you for the rest of my days on earth. ”
This man.
This everything man.
Tears blurred my vision more than the gush of rain outside our vehicle. I didn’t know if I could accept his offer of a life together—I still struggled with how unfair that would be for him. But Russell carried such a calm confidence, I could almost envision our future.
My hands fluttered to his chest just as headlights pierced through the torrential night, breaking our intimate spell.
He glanced at the approaching van, then back at me. “Just think about it, my love. We’ll have time to talk once we’ve got our guest settled at the cabin.”
“All right. Later.” That was as close as I could come to accepting his proposal, even an informal one with no paper trail. “Now, let’s focus on this poor little girl who needs us.”
His arms slid around me, and he drew me in for one of those wordless hugs of understanding that I needed, even though we were sticky with rain and perspiration. He knew I had a soft spot for the female children, each one reminding me of the daughter I’d lost.
I steeled myself for the familiar ache in my heart, the yearning to hold my baby even though she’d been stillborn.
The longing to see her face. Phillip had told the doctors to take her away and spare me that pain.
With each year that passed, I hated him all the more for that. Peace was hard won on most days.
On an evening like tonight, it was all but impossible.
Russell grabbed an umbrella from the floorboards and circled round to my side of the station wagon. Together, we walked toward the van, only the headlights of our two vehicles offering relief from the blanket of darkness.