Fugitive Father Read online

  They touched the trunk at the same time, Jackie out of breath and Sarah hardly winded. “It’s a tie. I guess nobody is a rotten egg,” Jackie gasped.

  “Or both of us are,” Sarah added, laughing as Jackie giggled once again. She sat down on the browned grass beneath the tree, unmindful of any dirt that might cling to her bottom. It felt good to be here with Jackie, sharing a special place and momentarily putting all her concerns, all her emotions, on hold.

  She patted the grass and waited until Jackie sat down next to her. “See those branches?” She pointed up into the center of the tree. “I used to sit up there for hours, thinking and dreaming. My mother used to say I was more monkey than girl.”

  Jackie leaned into Sarah’s side. “I like it when you tell me about when you were little.” She snuggled closer into Sarah. “Tell me more.”

  “Sometimes your Aunt Lindy and I would sneak away and climb up there and we’d pretend we were birds and the tree was our home.”

  Jackie giggled. “Did you eat worms?”

  “No, no worms. Usually we each had a handful of cookies that your grandma had baked. She baked the best gingersnaps in the whole wide world.”

  Jackie stood up suddenly and looked up the tree, her eyes sparking with adventure and challenge. Sarah caught her breath as she saw the child’s resemblance to her father, vividly pronounced at the moment. “Can I climb it?” Jackie asked.

  “Only to the second group of branches. That’s high enough.” Sarah stood as Jackie assessed the tree trunk, quickly spotting the natural foot- and handholds in the gnarled wood. It took her no time at all to shinny up the trunk to the limbs overhead.

  “Look at me, Mama. I’m a monkey just like you!” Jackie crouched in the tree, her sweatshirt a splash of pink amid the remaining brown leaves that clung tenaciously to the branches.

  “That’s high enough, Jackie,” Sarah admonished as her daughter attempted to climb further.

  “Okay,” Jackie replied reluctantly. She sat down on a thick limb and began describing to Sarah what she could see from her higher vantage point.

  As Jackie chattered, Sarah found herself once again thinking of Reese. She’d been sixteen when they’d started dating. He was three years older than her in age and decades older in experience. He’d been rough-and-tumble. He worked at the gas station and everyone in town knew his mother had left him and his father when Reese was eight, and his father had started to drink heavily after she’d gone.

  Reese had been the forbidden, the boy nobody wanted their daughter to date. His mystique among the teenage girls had been one of danger and recklessness. After dating him a couple of times, Sarah had come to recognize the heart within the troubled boy, the wounded child inside the angry man.

  She had thought her love would be enough to make him whole. Initially, when she first suspected she was pregnant, a small part of her had been thrilled. Even though she’d heard rumors about Reese and another girl who’d gotten pregnant, even though he’d been quite vocal on his views of parenthood, she was certain this situation was different. After all, this was a child she and Reese had created together in love.

  It wasn’t until she and Reese attended a wedding of one of his buddies that she realized her dreams of family could never happen with him. He’d ranted and raved after the wedding, telling her his plans to save his money and get the hell out of Clay Creek before some woman trapped him here forever. With each angry word he’d uttered, a piece of Sarah’s dreams had shattered. Inch by inch she had died. A week later she left town.

  She shoved these thoughts aside, the pain they always brought too intense to deal with at the moment. There was no going back, no changing facts. Reese didn’t want to be a father. He didn’t think he was father material and nothing was going to change that.

  “Jackie, come on down now, honey. It’s starting to get dark.”

  She watched as Jackie began her descent, carefully picking her way down the tree branches. She’d almost reached the bottom when a loud crack resounded and something whined past Sarah’s head.

  For a moment she couldn’t comprehend what had happened. It wasn’t until there was another crack and pieces of the tree next to her splintered into the air that she realized what the noise was. Bullets. Somebody was shooting in their direction!

  “Hey!” she yelled loudly. “Hey, we’re here.” There was a moment of silence and Sarah expelled a sigh of relief. Overzealous hunters, she thought. Surely they’d heard her shout and realized their mistake. But then another shot boomed, breaking the stillness and whining as it passed within inches of Sarah’s head.

  A spurt of adrenaline flooded through her and her blood roared loudly in her ears. “Jump, Jackie,” she yelled urgently at the child, who made a perfect target in the lower branches of the tree.

  Jackie didn’t hesitate. She dropped right into her mother’s arms and Sarah immediately shoved her down to the ground. Before Sarah could drop down on top of her, there was another sharp report and a searing pain exploded on the right side of her head.

  She covered Jackie’s body with hers, unsure if the trembling she felt was her own or her daughter’s. The pain in her head made it impossible to think, to assess the situation. She functioned on instinct alone, and her instinct was to remain still and close to the ground.

  Minutes passed...minutes of silence. The only sound was the gentle whispering of the leaves in the night breeze.

  “Mama?” Jackie’s voice was a terrified whisper.

  “Shh.” Sarah listened, waiting to hear the sound of footsteps, the pop of another gunshot. There was nothing. It was as if she’d imagined the whole thing. But she wasn’t imagining the nauseating pain that rocketed through the side of her head. It wasn’t until several torturous minutes had passed that Sarah ventured to sit up.

  The last golden light of dusk had been shoved away by the deepening purple shadows of night. She looked around, her heart still pounding.

  Jackie struggled to a sitting position next to her. “Mama?”

  Sarah looked at her daughter, fear once again racing through her. “Jackie, are you all right?” She ran her hands down the little girl’s arms, over the top of her head. “You aren’t hurt, are you?” She could hear the hysteria edging her voice and knew she was on the verge of losing control.

  “Mama, you’re bleeding! Your head is bleeding!” Jackie’s voice echoed the hysteria in Sarah’s. Jackie reached up and gently touched her hand to the side of Sarah’s head, and when she drew her hand away, the fingertips were covered with blood. Jackie’s eyes widened in horror. Somewhere nearby a bird called out, the sound immediately usurped by Jackie’s scream.

  Chapter 4

  “You were damned lucky. It’s just a flesh wound,” Doc Burwell said as he washed the blood off the side of Sarah’s head. “I’m going to have to cut some of your hair, but you’ve got more than enough here for two heads.”

  Sarah closed her eyes as the scissors snipped close to her scalp and she felt pieces of her hair falling to her shoulders. “There we go.” Doc finished the impromptu haircut. “It’s bleeding pretty good and you’ll probably have a headache for a couple of days, but no permanent harm seems to have been done.”

  She winced as he applied antiseptic to the wound. The headache had already made its appearance, pounding with a nauseating intensity.

  She looked over to where Jackie sat on a chair. She was glancing through a picture book and twirling a grape sucker in her mouth, obviously anxious to get to the chocolate center. Amazing, the resilience of children, she thought.

  After she and Jackie had made their way from the grove of trees to the house, Sarah had grabbed her car keys and taken off for Doc Burwell’s. She’d functioned on instinct, without much thought or logic. She’d had no idea how bad the wound was, but she had comforted Jackie with assurances during the short car ride.

  Jackie had been a trouper. She’d sat next to Sarah, pressing a towel to the bleeding area and patting Sarah on the shoulder. Thankfu
lly it hadn’t been a long drive to Doc Burwell’s office.

  All three of them jumped as the door to the office suddenly flew open and Reese filled the space. “What the hell happened?” he demanded.

  “What are you doing here?” Sarah exclaimed irritably. She already had a headache. She didn’t need his presence to escalate the pain.

  “I called him,” Doc replied, giving the wound a final swab. “I have to call the sheriff on any gunshot wounds.” He carefully applied a bandage, then stood and went to the wooden cabinet in the corner of the tiny examining room. Unlocking the glass door, he rummaged through the bottles and withdrew one. He handed it to Sarah. “This is for the pain. They’re pretty strong, so I wouldn’t take one then get on the tractor to plow a field.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Sarah said dryly. She put the pills in her purse then got up off the examining table, a wave of dizziness causing her to stumble backward and lean heavily against the table.

  “Are you going to tell me what happened?” Reese’s voice boomed, reverberating at the base of Sarah’s skull.

  “Would you please not yell,” she retorted, closing her eyes for a moment and taking a few deep breaths. “It’s really not a big deal.”

  “I’d say it’s a very big deal. If anyone is going to shoot you, it’s going to be me.” Reese glared at her, those angry eyes of his making her swallow convulsively.

  “If you hurt my mama, you’ll be sorry.” Jackie jumped off her chair. With her sucker in one hand, she doubled up her other hand into a fist and waved it at him. “If you hurt her, I’ll give you a knuckle sandwich.”

  “I prefer ham and cheese on rye.” Reese’s quick reply successfully diffused some of the tension in the room. Jackie giggled and Sarah felt a strange bittersweet ache rush through her. She’d forgotten his sense of humor. He’d always been able to make her laugh...when he wasn’t breaking her heart.

  “Come on, I’ll take you home.” Reese reached out and took her arm, his grip firm yet gentle. “You can tell me all the details on the way.”

  “Don’t be silly, I can drive myself home.” Sarah jerked her arm away from him. Even his most insignificant touch sent an ache of memory through her that caused her heart to hurt. She began to walk, appalled to realize her legs trembled, barely holding her up.

  “Honey, I recommend you let Reese take you home,” Doc said softly. “You shouldn’t have driven yourself here to begin with. You’ve been through quite a shock. I don’t think driving is such a good idea at the moment.”

  “You drove yourself here?” Reese sounded appalled at the very idea. “Why didn’t you get Ben or Lindy to bring you in?”

  “I didn’t want to bother them. Lindy has been so upset. She would have completely lost it. Besides, everything happened so fast, I just got in the car and drove.”

  “Well, that does it. I’m definitely taking you home,” Reese replied firmly.

  Sarah hesitated. She didn’t want to go with Reese, but she knew she wasn’t in any condition to drive home and she had Jackie’s safety to consider. The adrenaline flood that had allowed her to drive herself to the doctor was gone, leaving her shaking and exhausted.

  Besides, if Reese took her home, he could talk to her on the way, then leave when they got there. If he followed her, he’d have to come in and discuss the details with her and she didn’t want him in the house. She didn’t want his scent lingering after he’d gone, his presence remaining when he left.

  “I can get you in the morning and bring you back into town to pick up your car,” Reese said, as if this might be what caused her hesitation.

  “You won’t have to do that. Ben can bring me in on his way out of town in the morning.”

  “I don’t care the whys or hows,” Doc Burwell interjected. “I’m an old man and it’s getting late and I think you all should get the hell out of here.” He gave Sarah an awkward pat on her shoulder and led them all to the door. He pointed at Sarah. “I want to see you again tomorrow.”

  She nodded vaguely, wanting only to get home, take a pain pill and escape from the throbbing ache in the side of her head.

  “Are we gonna ride in a police car?” Jackie asked as they stepped outside into the chilly night air.

  “You sure are.” Reese opened the back door so Jackie could scramble inside. Sarah slid into the passenger seat, closed her eyes and leaned her head back. The interior of the car smelled like Reese, a tantalizing scent that conjured up unwanted memories from the past. She shoved the memories away and focused instead on the pain in her head. It was much more manageable than the ache in her heart.

  “Mr. Sheriff, will you turn on the siren?” Jackie asked, talking around her sucker as Reese got in the car.

  “It’s a little late for the siren,” Reese replied. He started the engine and pulled away from the curb. “But when we get out of town, I’ll turn on the lights. And before we do anything, all little girls have to have their seat belts on.”

  Jackie immediately complied, sitting back on the seat and buckling the belt around her.

  “You ready to tell me what happened?” Even with her eyes closed, Sarah could feel his gaze on her.

  She sighed, opened her eyes and stared out the window, where the blackness of night seemed as dense as the events that had unfolded over the past hour.

  “Jackie and I were out by the grove of trees at the side of the house,” she began.

  “I was climbing Mom’s favorite tree,” Jackie added.

  “Jackie was up in the tree when somebody started shooting. After the second shot, I shouted to tell whoever it was that we were there. The shooting stopped for a minute but then started again. It had to have been some crazy mistake—a hunter or a drunk or something.” This is what she had told herself on the drive to Doc Burwell’s. It was a mistake, an accident. To consider any other scenario was too frightening.

  “Could you tell where the shots came from?”

  Sarah frowned and rubbed two fingers across her forehead. “I don’t know...it all happened so fast.” She swallowed convulsively. “They seemed to have come from someplace near the house, but I could be mistaken.” She rubbed her forehead once again, trying to still the throbbing ache.

  “Where were Ben and Lindy?”

  “After everyone left the house, they went upstairs to their room. Lindy isn’t handling any of this very well. They have a VCR and a TV in the bedroom. Ben was going to pick out a couple of Lindy’s favorite movies and watch them with her.” She knew she was rambling, giving him useless information. She stopped rubbing her forehead and gazed at him, noting the tautness of his features in the dim light from the dashboard. “I’m sure it was just an accident. A careless hunter or stray bullets or something.”

  “Or something.” He looked at her, his gaze lingering on the white bandage. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Whatever happened, I intend to get to the bottom of it. I can’t have visitors to Clay Creek getting shot at.”

  Visitors to Clay Creek. A feeling of emptiness swept through Sarah, increasing the pounding in her head. She stared back out the window. Yes, that’s all she could ever be—a visitor.

  She looked over at him again. Everything about him was taut. His jaw was clamped shut and his knuckles were white beneath his tight grip on the steering wheel. The potential fury was there, a potential that frightened Sarah not for herself but for her daughter. Most of the time Reese’s anger had produced self-destructive acts, but there had been times in the past when his actions had spilled over to hurt others. She would never allow him to hurt Jackie. She didn’t intend to be in Clay Creek long enough to let that happen.

  It didn’t matter to Sarah that he didn’t want to be a father. Jackie didn’t need him. And neither do I, Sarah thought. “Maybe I should be questioning you about your whereabouts earlier this evening,” she said softly.

  He stared at her for a brief moment, his eyes scathing. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed dryly. “Hiding and shooting is definitely not my
style. If it had been me, I would have made sure you knew it.”

  She nodded, knowing what he said was true. If and when he decided to hurt her, he’d make certain she knew about it. Once again she closed her eyes against the pain in her head and the sharper ache in her heart.

  “Mr. Sheriff, will you turn on the lights now?” Jackie asked.

  Reese reached down and punched the button that sent the red lights swirling on top of the car painting the landscape with a red glow. He heard the little girl’s gasp of pleasure and smiled as he remembered her clenched fist when she’d thought he was threatening her mother. A brave little thing, he mused.

  Again he found himself wondering what pieces of himself might be found in this child. He wondered what Sarah had told her about him. Was Jackie even old enough to wonder about the absence of a father in her life? If she was old enough, what had Sarah told the little girl? That he didn’t care? That he was dead? Or had she lied altogether and made up some father image?

  He’d been eight when his mother had taken off, leaving behind an angry man and a bewildered boy. Reese could still remember nights of lying awake, wondering what he’d done or hadn’t done that had caused his mother to leave them. He could no longer remember her facial features. Over the years, she’d dimmed to a shadowy figure who rarely received more than a passing thought.

  Yet Reese still remembered the misery of the little boy he’d once been, and he wondered if Jackie experienced any suffering over the lack of a father in her life. He hoped not.

  He looked over at Sarah, the red glow from the lights atop the car washing over her features but unable to cover her unnatural paleness. The bandage was stark against the darkness of her hair and her features were drawn in response to the pain she must be experiencing. Even pale and drained she was beautiful.

  Again he realized that his heart had never really gotten free from hers. Six years ago she’d been the very best thing in his god-awful life. When she’d left, she’d taken a piece of him with her, a piece he’d never been able to fully recover.