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Chris dead-headed back to Nelson because the guys had been basically ripping boards to put into the hot shed to dry. We’d be taking wood that was ready out of our inventory and replacing it with what we harvested, as the job allowed. They hadn’t had time to prepare a full, dry load for delivery yet, and I was driving back to Fairview with another full truck.
Tomorrow, I’d be delivering ready-to-go lumber to the construction site. But first, I was dropping off this truck and switching it out for mine at the mill before heading to the bank.
Lindy called while I was driving and told me everything went smoothly. She had papers for me to sign and was holding the ones that were couriered over for me to pick up. The transfer went through and was now deposited in the new account. If there was no foul play, Myra would have more money than either of us could ever imagine.
So far, so good.
Still, with all of that going as planned, my mind was a jumbled mess.
The night before, I’d read the box of letters Andrew left us. Actually, I’d read most of them twice. Although the correspondence was only one sided, only having the notes that Jacob wrote to Andrew, it was clear they’d been very much in love.
They weren’t easy to read. Mostly because it felt like an invasion of privacy and I was certain Jacob never wanted anyone except Andrew to know the things he shared with him. Most detailed where they’d secretly meet and when. They told of his confusion and, at times, the shame he felt for wanting something more with his friend. Something neither of them believed they’d ever be able to have out in the open.
They were painful to read and sad, knowing how limited their time had been and then how it had been cut shorter by his passing. It was that letter—the very last one—which haunted me the most because it wasn’t just a letter. It was a suicide note.
As I pulled into town, his words repeated over and over in my head.
I feel weak and cowardly doing this to you and Myra. She is innocent and deserves someone who loves her like I love you. I hope things work out for her. The only reason we are even married was because Father wanted to keep her family’s money away from Matthew, but Mother doesn’t understand and I’m only disappointing her. Between my Father’s constant judgement and Matthew’s threats to expose us, I see no other way out. At least in Hell there’s only one devil, because here there are many.
Leave Lancaster as soon as you can. Be happy. Be who I always knew you were.
I wish I could go with you. I wish I was stronger. I’m sorry.
Love, Jacob.
Those words would plague me, probably for the rest of my life. Now, more than ever, I was committed to ending the Hell my family created in Lancaster. Myra was right, we couldn’t look the other way anymore. We had to put an end to it.
I left the load with the skeleton crew at the mill and said hello to Dori in passing as I jumped in my truck and headed into town. Ted knew I was coming back early. I had already told him about the money, and he gave me the names of a lawyer and an accountant he used. Pulling out of the parking lot at the mill, I was on a mission.
All I wanted to do was get home to Myra.
#
THE ERRANDS I HAD TO run in Fairview ate up more time than I would have liked, but it was still early afternoon when I finally pulled down the lane to the cabin.
The leaves had started to fall, and they dusted the road. Naturally, Myra was outside, rake in hand, cleaning up the small front yard when she heard my tires on the gravel. Before I even stopped, she’d dropped her rake and ran toward my pickup. I climbed out just in time to catch her when she jumped into my arms.
Talk about a homecoming.
“I know I just saw you a few days ago, but it wasn’t enough,” she said as she planted kisses on my cheeks and mouth. “Welcome home.”
My arms around her, I held Myra to my chest and pressed my mouth to hers. She opened for me, gave herself to me, and I selfishly took advantage. She tasted sweet like sugar and cinnamon and she was warmer than the sun on our shoulders.
She was my home.
Suddenly, need for her overcame me. “I want you.”
“I want you too,” she replied, her mouth reaching out for mine again.
I carried her inside. Past the table and chairs. Past the island. Past the couch and I took her to our bed. Shucking our shoes, we tore at each other’s clothes until we were naked in the sunny bedroom we shared.
In that moment, I did my best to pretend everything beyond that room didn’t matter. Not money. Not tragic letters. Not new buildings or jobs. In that space, the only thing I wanted to be concerned with was her skin against mine.
Her lips on my lips.
Her fingers on my flesh.
Her body underneath me as I pressed myself inside.
Myra clung to me like at any moment I’d vanish into thin air. As if she knew I needed her to ground me. To secure me. To anchor me.
I thrust into her with such power and force, I was almost sure she’d cry out in pain. But she didn’t.
“Yes,” she panted.
Like she’d done from day one, she diluted the darkness inside me with her light. I needed that more than ever. Because although I never wanted to be the sullen man I’d once been before her, a lot of that hate still festered inside me and now—after being away from her—was less dormant that it had been in months.
All the aggression. All the frustration. All the adrenaline that had been building suddenly came to a head.
But the more I gave her, the more she took.
The more I wedged inside her, the more she opened for me.
I wasn’t a violent man. Hurting others wasn’t a solution to the pain they’d inflicted on innocent people, but there had to be justice. There had to be a way to make sure they were stopped. Not just for Myra and myself, for the Griers, or even for Jacob and Andrew, but for the generations of children who would suffer and the ones after them. It wasn’t enough to just survive it and get away.
There had to be an end.
These unexpected and rampant thoughts consumed me, and not in a way I was proud of. Even though Myra was moaning and writhing beneath me as I consumed her, I’d made her a promise before and I had to stop.
I propped myself up, my hands flat on the comforter beside her head, and abruptly pulled myself out.
“I can’t do this. Not like this.”
Collapsing beside her, I pressed my palms to my eyes.
Immediately, she sat up and followed me to my side of the bed. “Hey, what’s wrong. Did I—” she began to ask but didn’t have to finish her sentence. Of course, she’d think she’d made a mistake or done something I didn’t like.
“No, baby. It’s not you.”
She whispered, “Then tell me. What’s is it?”
“You once asked me to never come at you with anger on my mind.”
Her hand smoothed over my sweaty chest, but she patiently stayed silent, waiting for me to continue.
“I told you I wouldn’t, and I did it. Just now. I’m furious—not at you—but I can’t allow myself to be with you when I’m like this. I refuse to hurt you.”
“Abraham Hathaway.” Her tone was firm as if she were scolding me. I deserved it and braced for more, looking her in the eyes to face what I had coming.
“You would never hurt me.” Her fingers threaded through my hair. “Never. You’re always telling me to talk to you, to tell you what’s on my mind. I think you better start talking.”
Where could I start?
“My dad called. He transferred your money to our bank.”
Her brow creased. “It wasn’t as much as you thought it would be?”
“No. It was more. Two hundred forty-five thousand more than I thought he’d ever give you.”
Myra’s jaw dropped. “Oh my goodness. What does he want?”
That was the part that had me baffled too. “He claims he doesn’t want anything.”
She crooked her neck and gave me a skeptical, sideways glance. “Are you sure?”
“Hell, I don’t know. He says he doesn’t. He sent it through. What can he ask for now?”
Myra’s face went through a myriad of expressions, but mostly her confusion lingered there. “That’s so weird, but isn’t it a good thing after all? Isn’t that what we wanted?”
“I guess, but I had to talk to the bank because that kind of deposit is not normal. Then Lindy suggested getting a lawyer and an accountant to make sure everything was legit. So the money is kind of in limbo until it all checks out. It was just a hassle.”
I must have looked like a total nutcase, laying there naked, but I didn’t care at that point. There was a lot of stuff I had to get off my chest, that I had to share with her, and I hadn’t even got to the worst part yet. So I took a deep breath and let it out. “I read the letters.”
Her chest swelled against my side as she audibly inhaled. “What did they say? Are you all right? Abe, why didn’t you tell me when you got home? Why didn’t you wait?”
She was picking up Ashley’s style of questioning. One after another, no space between.
“They said a lot. It was all one sided, but it was clear they cared about each other for a long time. Then my father married you to him to keep your family’s money away from your brother, who knew Jacob was gay and was threatening to out him to everyone. Daily. Matthew wanted to take you and your money to New Mecula. Now that we have it, I’m not sure if he’s going to try anything.” Just thinking about him doing something to Myra had me sitting up. “And I’ll tell you one thing, if he does, he will live to regret it. Has he called you? Does he try to contact you?”
How was I ever supposed to leave her again knowing what Matthew was capable of after reading the letters? The blackmail. The bullying. The threats.
I’d be damned if he ever tried anything like that with her. I’d make him wish he’d never been born.
Myra climbed onto my lap and stroked my cheeks, trying to calm me down. “Shhh. No. He doesn’t call. We’re probably the last two people on his mind, Abe. He knows he can’t control us. He knows better than to test you.” Her eyes were pale and cloudy, a stark contrast from the fiery blue they’d been when I pulled into the drive. However, her cheeks were still peachy and as smooth as fresh cream.
“If he does, don’t answer. I know you talk to your other brother’s wives, don’t let them know when I’m gone. Okay?” I did what I could to slow my haggard breaths, but it took effort. “Don’t ever let anyone know you’re here alone.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
My arms cinched around her and she pressed her lips to mine, ever so softly.
“We’re going to be okay,” she said. “You can’t carry all that around on your shoulders alone. What can I do to help? What can I say to make you feel better? I hate seeing you like this.”
I hated that she had to, but there was no hiding it. All of that, combined with the stress of opening my own business soon and being away from home, it all crashed down on me at once.
“Tell me something good.”
“Ms. Perry likes me now.” Her head pulled back a few inches, and the light return to her eyes.
“Of course she does. Who wouldn’t?”
“And I still have to show you what I made you.”
“You don’t have to show me. I can smell the roast.”
She laughed, and it was a balm to my soul.
“No. Well, yes. But I made something else too.” She playfully rolled to her side of the bed, hopped up and then slipped her arms through her robe. “Put some pants on.”
Before I could even stand, she skipped out the room. Whatever she wanted to show me pleased her, and now, having shared the burdens I’d brought home, I couldn’t deny I felt somewhat lighter already too.
I pulled my jersey pants up and tied the drawstring as I walked into the living area of the cabin. She was in the corner where she kept her sewing things, and I noticed a massive new machine. It was hardly believable I’d missed it on the way in.
Beside it sat a sample chair design I’d been messing around with last winter. A low-sitting club chair with widely planked arms. A clean, almost artisan style. And she’d added cushions.
“I know these don’t look the best. I went a little faster than I should have because, as you can see, some spots are kind of sloppy. But imagine if the cushion was fuller, and the material was leather. With this machine, I can help you at the store.”
I stepped closer to examine it. What she’d called sloppy didn’t look that way to me.
“When did you get it?”
“Saturday. That’s why I had to come back so early. It was a great deal, and I didn’t want to miss out.”
It was Monday. Two days. It had only taken her two days to figure out how to design and make a cushion for one of my designs. All because she had a notion to do it.
There wasn’t a facet in my life she didn’t improve, sharpen, or make more valuable. She was my biggest blessing.
But was she only doing it for me? Because that wasn’t good enough.
“Do you like doing it?”
“Oh, yeah.” She bent to run a hand over the seat. “It’s not too tricky since I already know how to sew pretty well, but there’s definitely a learning curve. It’ll take a lot more practice before it’s good enough to sell, but I have tools on order and some faux leather to practice with.”
How could I resist that face? So full of promise and hope. How the world never beat her down was beyond me. She’d been handed more curveballs than most, yet there she was beaming and trying something new, jumping into life with both feet.
I smoothed my hand over her hair and leaned over to kiss the top of her blonde head.
She stood and loosely embraced me around the waist and then gazed up at me. “So when I get better, think you might hire me?” Her smile could be the only thing on her resume, and I’d offer her whatever position she wanted. Lucky for me she was talented and hardworking too.
“The job is yours.” I didn’t have to give it a second thought. Of course, I’d love working with her every day and sharing my dream and the new adventure with her. But truthfully what she added to my designs would open doors even I hadn’t thought of.
She bounced and wiggled in my arms. Her squeal of delight made me all the more excited to get started.
“But what about Hobby Lobby?” I asked to make sure I wasn’t just being selfish. Myra had been hell bent on getting a job at the store. “If you want to work there, don’t you dare change your mind on account of me.”
“Meh. Hobby Lobby isn’t even hiring now, and I’d rather make stuff. Sewing is what I’m good at, and I never get tired of doing it or learning new things about it. Plus, the best memories I have from my childhood are working on projects with my mom and sister. It makes me feel close to them. And it’ll allow us to be together more. This is what I want to do more than anything.”
It was settled. I’d told her numerous times she could have or do whatever she wanted. She was free to decide. The store had been my goal for so long and now that dream was just getting bigger and better.
“All right. But on one condition.” Knowing how much she loved negotiations, I hoped she’d accept my terms. “We’re total partners. It’ll be our store. Our family business.”
Holding onto each other, swaying on the polished hardwood in the living room, we found another way to strengthen the tether between us.
“I’m in. What are we going to call it?”
I’d thought about that very thing many times, and nothing ever felt right. Staring down into her blue eyes, only one thing came to mind. Something we had both fought for. “Freedom, Custom Furniture and Designs.”
Her mouth puckered, and she joyfully pouted. “I love it.”