Chapter Six
Marigold
A bump shook away the flog of sleep as I blinked my eyes open. I found myself nestled in a queen-sized bed beneath brown sheets and a plain gray comforter. My surroundings came into focus, revealing the dust-covered room as memories flashed back to mind like a disjoined film reel:
Waking in the woods. The two men on the cliff. An abusive lover.
Yesterday.
Levi, Beth, the rustic cabin, the guitar, shared dinner on the wooden deck overlooking nature’s canvas, and the tranquil descent of the sun.
The last recollection was Levi’s comforting grip on my hand in the dark bedroom as I slipped into a deep sleep. A dreamless one at that.
Another sudden thud followed by a scuff prompted me to rise from bed. What was Levi doing?
Hugging my arms across my chest, I shuffled toward the noise. Levi stood disassembling a twin-sized bed frame in the adjacent bedroom.
He stopped, a screwdriver clutched between his teeth. He spit it into his hand, then said, “Did I wake you?”
I swept aside a heap of thick, wavy hair from my face. “What are you doing?” A second twin bed occupied the corner, its bare mattress propped against it.
“I’m moving one bed into the basement so we can convert this into your new space.”
The room was veiled in a thicker coat of dust compared to the master bedroom, triggering an unexpected sneeze.
He grimaced. “Don’t worry. I’ll clean before I go to work.”
Where did he say he worked again? “At the school?”
He nodded. “I’m the football coach, so I don’t have to leave until two-thirty.”
Yawning, I stretched my arms skyward. Upon lowering them, I caught Levi fixated on . . . what exactly? My legs? The T-shirt I wore? It was hard to discern, but his face bore a strained expression.
Did the shirt look wrinkled? Was my hair a mess? I dropped my hands and covered myself self-consciously. “Let me change first, then I can help you.”
When I returned to the bedroom, Levi was gone. Clanging noises and murmurs from the kitchen steered me in that direction. The counters, sink, and cabinets begged for a thorough scrub.
Levi stood hunched over a metal bowl, a whisk in his hand. “Pancakes for breakfast. Do you want bacon too? Momma sent us home with plenty of food. She knows what I can and can’t cook. It’s hard to mess up a recipe that requires only water, eggs, and pancake mix.”
I smiled, a sharp pain shooting through the cut on my cheek. Wincing, I touched the spot.
“How are you feeling today?”
I feel like a helpless girl with no past. I didn’t want to remind him I was another mouth to feed. I’d show Levi that I was useful and valuable, not merely broken and questioning.
“My entire body aches, but I’m much better than yesterday. What can I do?”
He gestured toward the table. “You can wipe that down, then take a seat.”
I sprayed and polished the wooden table, along with the surrounding four chairs. Then I filled two glasses with orange juice and placed them next to two woven straw mats.
Once done, Levi presented me with a stack of pancakes and a plate of bacon. My stomach grumbled at the smell of butter and maple syrup.
He said grace, then we heaped our plates with pancakes, thick slices of melty butter, and gooey homemade syrup from a mason jar.
The morning sunlight streamed through the windows on each side of the front door, warming the inside of the cabin. Through the back sliding glass doors, the picturesque valley unfolded before us, adding to the sense of comfort and security enveloping us.
“Can I ask you something?” I ventured as Levi paused mid-bite, his bacon strip balanced between his fingers.
“Sure.” He set the bacon back on his plate.
“Why have you stayed away from this cabin for so long?”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “This place holds painful and poignant memories and each one stings with the absence of my dad. This was his castle on a hill. His oasis. I couldn’t bear the thought of coming here, not seeing him, and being greeted by the ghosts of memories.”
I dared to ask a bolder question. “Why did you come when you did then? I mean . . . ” I set my fork down. “Are there homes nearby? I keep wondering what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been here.”
“I’m sure any of the neighbors would have helped you.” He then turned his attention to his plate as though that was the end of the conversation.
“But why did you come?” I couldn’t figure out how he had arrived on the very same evening I did.
Metal clinked against ceramic as he set his silverware on his plate. “Because I needed to get off my butt. Lillian got married, and I had no choice but to move on. I’m also certain that if Dad was depressed enough to walk off that cliff, there would be evidence here. So I’ve been trying to keep an eye out for potential clues.”
“But you think Ezra is to blame, right?”
He shrugged. “Yes. Maybe I’ll find something that points in his direction.”
I needed to put the pieces together. “So, you just fell asleep and woke up to me knocking on the front door?”
“Pounding is more like it,” he said with a grin.
“And you . . . you don’t know where I came from? You don’t recognize me at all? Not even my name?”
He seemed to intentionally avert his gaze. “I never met you before Sunday morning,” he admitted, a hint of mystery lingering in his tone.
Curious, I probed further, prompting, “But?”
“It’s just . . . ” Levi sighed. Then, finally meeting my gaze, his eyes held a glint of recognition as he confessed, “You remind me of a girl I read about.”
After breakfast, we returned to the bedroom where we finished disassembling the bedframe. With synchronized efforts, we maneuvered the bulky pieces down into the basement labyrinth of stacked boxes, then set to work cleaning. We dusted, vacuumed, and polished every surface until a zesty lemon scent enveloped the second bedroom.
“We could fit more furniture in here,” Levi said. “I saw a bigger bookshelf and a desk downstairs.”
“You think?”
Sweat beaded my forehead by the time we hauled everything upstairs.
The desk was small and simple, but the etched legs gave it character. A dark wood chair with a plush green velvet seat made for a perfect accompaniment. We set a quaint lamp with a tasseled shade on top of the desk, then Levi arranged unused journals and an assortment of pens and pencils nearby.
“I love it,” I said.
“Since you made me carry this bookcase upstairs, I’m guessing you’re a fan of reading?”
“I believe so.”
“What’s your favorite book?”
“The whole Little House on the Prairie Series.”
We knelt together beside the small shelf, transferring books to the larger one. The collection was evidently shared with his brother. Hatchet , Eragon , The Chronicles of Narnia , and The Lord of the Rings Trilogy were all well used.
“Which was your favorite?” I asked.
He found a worn copy of Tom Sawyer . “My brother Colton has always enjoyed fantasy and dragons, but I like that a normal boy could unearth treasures in his normal town. And maybe get into some mischief along the way.”
“Has anyone found treasure here?”
He laughed, the sound rich and deep. “No. Only legends of ghosts here.”
“Ghosts? I thought the name of the mountain was metaphorical.”
“All stories start somewhere.” He winked at me then checked his watch. “I’ve got to go.”
“When will you be home?”
“Hopefully by six or seven. Will you be okay here alone? I could drop you off at Momma’s house.”
A hand-stitched quilt adorned the twin bed nestled in the corner—a creation from Levi’s mother years ago. The bookshelf held half its capacity with boxes of books awaiting exploration in the basement. After less than forty-eight hours, this cozy cabin was already starting to feel like home. “I’d like to stay.”
“I’ll see you in a few hours,” Levi said. He stepped forward and raised his arms as if preparing for a hug—but then he awkwardly angled for the door instead.
I wandered down the hall, watching as he climbed into his truck. The bruises on his face were deepening by the hour, yet an undeniable sense of security enveloped me in his presence.
My head throbbed, reminding me of the gash near the back. I should rest. Perhaps pick some flowers for my room after I awoke.
As I settled on the twin bed, I prayed I would awaken with a head full of memories.
Levi
I reread the email from my old buddy Drew before climbing out of my Chevy.
Levi,
Please come to my office before practice.
From,
Drew Brown
Sutton High School Principal
I hadn’t found myself in the principal’s office since my teenage years. No doubt the email had something—or everything—to do with my disappearing act last week.
The scorching touch of the sun-warmed metal seared my hand as I pushed open the glass door of Sutton High at three o’clock, striding inside as if my paycheck wasn’t at stake.
The hallways whispered with an eerily silence as I made my way to the office. Dented lockers and faded carpet brought back memories of kissing Lillian between classes, laughing with Ezra, and doing just enough schoolwork to stay on the football team.
A woman with curly silver hair looked up as I entered. It was Bett Woodward, or Mrs. Woodard, the same woman who wrote my tardy slips in high school. A few more wrinkles lined her face, but she still wore her trademark leopard print glasses held in place with a beaded strap around her neck.
She slid them down her nose to look at me. “Why, if it isn’t Levi Shaw? Drew said you’d be stopping by today.” She cupped a hand beside her mouth, leaning in as she said, “The superintendent and board asked him to speak with you. But you didn’t hear that from me.”
I pinched my lips together and playfully mimed locking my lips shut. With a smile, I whispered, “How much trouble do you reckon I’m in?”
She waved away my concern. “I wouldn’t be too worried. You’re a good coach, and everyone seems to love you. It’s not like there is a line of men applying for your job. Besides, you played college ball.”
In this town, my limited two-year college football career followed by a life-altering ACL injury didn’t seem to matter to anyone. They saw me as a success story.
Mrs. Woodward, I mean, Bett, as she insisted I caller now that I was on the school faculty, adjusted her glasses on her nose. Drew will be out soon. What have you been up to?”
The poor woman must be tired of talking to moody teenagers.
Instead of jabbering about myself, I told her about my momma. Bett soaked up the information about herb gardens and peach trees like it was sweat tea made by God himself.
When there was a lull in the conversation, she said, “You’re the one who found Shelly Hooper, aren’t you?”
Gossip multiplied quicker than wild barn cats in Sutton. Had the police released an official identity?
Bett must have known more than I did. “Yes, I found a body. It was Shelly?”
The rhinestone beads adorning Bett’s glasses’ strap sparkled in the fluorescent light as she scanned the area, ensuring our conversation remained private. “Yes,” she whispered. “Word ’round town says it was Shelly Hooper. Poor girl. I remember her attending this school. She was always going home sick.”
She tapped a finger against her temple. “Not your usual flu, mind you. No, she had what them doctors today call . . . ” She searched for the word. “Bipolar or something? It’s just terrible how she died. Seeing as only three years ago, Duncan . . . ” Realization seemed to dawn on her as she recognized her audience and she fell silent mid-sentence.
Drew’s door opened, saving us the embarrassment of continued conversation.
One of my football players walked out. Tall, lean, and muscled. Trevor Goodman. He brushed past me without making eye contact and let the main office door slam behind him.
Drew emerged wearing pressed slacks and a white shirt with a colorful tie. Observing him like this tempted me to laugh, but I swallowed it back.
“Thank you for coming, Levi. Please come in.”
With a somber expression, I obeyed his command. This was certainly not a time for jokes.
“Let’s cut to the chase,” Drew said as he shut the door behind him. I wasn’t as familiar with this Drew—the one with the slicked-back hair and thin lips. “The board is fuming. That stunt you pulled last week was irresponsible.” He settled behind his desk and continued. “And then word got out that you were in a brawl on Saturday evening at Lillian’s wedding. Really, Levi? What if some of your guys saw you throwing punches?” He gestured at my face. “You can’t hide those bruises. It’s clear as water what went down. Some of the board members are asking for your resignation.”
I sat uneasily in the chair opposite Drew, shame pressing down on my shoulders. This was the chair reserved for delinquents. Seven days ago, losing my job wouldn’t have mattered. But now, with Marigold, I had a reason to earn a living. I had to take care of her.
Earlier that morning, as we cleaned together, I found myself watching her and wondering about her history. Why did she resemble the girl I wrote about?
“Levi?”
I jerked my head toward Drew, embarrassed that thoughts of Marigold had distracted me from this important conversation.
“I’m sorry, Drew. You can tell the board that my decision was rash and emotional. I won’t let it happen again.”
He perused me from a reclined position. “I get it. All right? We grew up together. We used to play football and cause all kinds of mischief. I can’t imagine how it must feel to lose someone like Lillian. But Levi—we aren’t boys anymore. We work with juveniles. We have a standard to live up to and must remain excellent role models, an example worth following.”
He was poking at my fight with Ezra. Did he want to cast stones? Fine. None of us were free from sin. “Weren’t you the one who lit a tapestry on fire at church while trying to light a candle?” I asked.
A smirk tipped his mouth as he pointed a pen at me. “We were children back then.”
I extended both hands. “As surely as you asked for forgiveness, I am now asking for mercy. A second chance.”
Drew tapped the pen against his desk, clearly deep in thought. Finally, he said, “A written apology should suffice. Have it in my inbox before lunch tomorrow. I’ll grease some wheels and make sure everyone knows you’re contrite.”
Tension melted from my shoulders as I released a breath. “Thank you, Drew. You won’t regret this.”
“I hope not.” He gave me one more stern glare before breaking into a smile. “Now that the serious business is done, get on the field and get those boys ready for their first game.”
“Sure thing.” I stood. “Why was Trevor here?”
He dropped his pen on a legal pad and crossed his arms behind his head. “He and William got into a fight today. Something about a girl. I told him he’ll have to tighten it up if he wants to keep playing. These guys look up to you, Levi. There are consequences for poor decisions. I don’t want to be the bad guy if you lose yourself again. You’ll have to tell these boys something about your injuries. I recommend you use it as a teachable moment.”
Trevor and William drew eerie parallels between Ezra and me. Boys who were friends one second then enemies the next.
A thought nagged at me: You and Trevor were in this office for the same reason. A fight. But the difference now is that you should know better.
Should I?
Trevor and William were fighting over a girl. Ezra and I were fighting over the life of my dad. There was a big difference.
But you don’t have any proof.
I pointed at the clock. “I should get going. The boys will be in the locker room shortly.”
Drew rounded the desk to shake my hand. “Keep your head down, Levi. Stay out of trouble. Everyone is watching.”
I left with a nod. Bett waved as I breezed out the door, the rhinestones from her glasses strap blinding me.
My nagging thought was right. I didn’t have any proof that Ezra killed my dad. And if nothing changed, I never would.