Chapter Thirty-Eight

Velma met us halfway across the yard. “Dear girl, you come on in.” She curved her plump arm around Fawn’s shoulders. “Make yourself at home, you hear?” Dodd and I followed them into the house, where Velma placed Fawn at the kitchen table and started setting food items around her. “After you have a bite to eat, you’ll feel better.”

I eased into a chair, awkwardly sitting next to Fawn, and realized Dodd and I never ate our hamburgers. No matter. Food sounded terrible at the moment.

Velma flurried around the kitchen. “Dodd, you best head down to the barn. JohnScott could use your help with the chores. Ruthie and me? We’ll take care of things here.”

He touched my shoulder as he stepped past me, his fingertips trailing across my neck. Our eyes met for a split second as he disappeared into the mudroom.

My aunt rambled about nothing in particular, and Fawn picked at a muffin. A faint bruise rose along her cheekbone, and I caught myself before I shuddered. Surely the baby would be all right.

Velma must have been thinking along the same lines. “In the morning, I’ll call Dr. Tubbs in Lubbock and make an appointment to have everything checked out. Get you started on some prenatal vitamins.”

Fawn’s brow wrinkled. “Dad took my credit card.”

Velma shooed the thought away with both hands. “Aw, now, don’t worry. Dr. Tubbs is good people. He’ll treat us fair, and if need be, he’ll know where you can get more affordable care.” Her leathery hand patted Fawn’s porcelain one. “The important thing is to make sure the two of you are up to par. You’ll feel ten times better once you know your baby is healthy.” A tear balanced on Fawn’s bottom lashes as Velma continued. “The rest will sort itself out. One way or another. Now let’s get you settled in the girls’ room. Ruthie can show you the way.”

Grabbing two extra quilts from the linen closet, I led Fawn to the back bedroom. Velma had already pulled the covers down, and on the pillow rested an old bicolored wind suit and a pair of socks. “Looks like Aunt Velma scrounged some clothes.”

Fawn surveyed the room with empty eyes.

“The bathroom’s right across the hall. Clean towels in the cupboard beneath the sink.” I stalled at the bedroom door. “You might need the quilts because Uncle Ansel lowers the heat at night.”

“Thanks.” She stood motionless in the middle of the room.

“No problem.” I waited, feeling a surreal urge to hug her but an even stronger urge to hurtle away from her like the proverbial bat out of hell. “Well, if you don’t need anything else …”

I almost had the door shut when she blurted, “Would you mind staying? For a minute?”

“Um … okay.” A stray dining-room chair stood against the wall next to the door, and I rested a knee on it but didn’t sit.

Fawn perched on the edge of the bed, seeming to search for something to say. She noticed her soiled house shoes and slipped them off. “So, I guess you’ve stayed here a lot over the years.”

Were we going to shoot the breeze? I traced my finger along the back of the chair, leaving a trail in the dust. “Valerie and Teresa shared this room. I used to sleep on their floor.” I studied Fawn, recognizing her attempt to hold herself together.

“I remember them.” A faint smile flickered across her face. “When we were little, I thought they were the most beautiful girls in the world.”

I rubbed the dust on the leg of my jeans. “Now that you mention it, they did have a lot of boyfriends.”

A pause followed, and I pulled at a lock of my hair, wondering if I should leave. When I shifted, she spoke quickly to halt my exit. “It must’ve been nice to go through high school with a sister. Don’t you think?”

Strange question. Over the years, I spent a lot of time wishing for my dad, maybe a different mother, but I never thought much about a sister. “Yeah, I suppose it would. My cousins are the closest thing I have to siblings, but if JohnScott had been a girl, he would’ve been almost like a sister.”

“I can’t picture Coach Pickett as a girl.” Fawn chuckled, but her smile faded, and she looked lost, staring at the threadbare carpet. “Ruthie, what am I going to do?”

My foot tingled as it fell asleep, and I wiggled my toes. She didn’t seem to expect an answer, so I stayed quiet.

“I have two years left before I graduate, and now I don’t have a place to live. No money. No future. I don’t even have any shoes.” Her tears had dried. “Milla says my father will reconsider, but I don’t know about that. And Dad has such an influence on the church, they’ll agree to whatever he says. My friends may not be my friends anymore.”

I searched my mind for words and my heart for compassion but found neither, even though I ought to have had a good dose of empathy. Fawn was in the same spot I had been in when I was seven. Her world was about to change, and she had no control over the results. I felt sorry for her, but pity wasn’t the same as compassion. The two emotions were different at the core, and even though I knew the pity I felt for her could possibly, eventually, thaw the ice in my heart … it hadn’t yet. And because of that, I faltered at the notion of sitting in my aunt’s spare bedroom while my childhood nemesis sorted through her problems.

But Fawn needn’t know that.

I eased down to sit on the chair, stretching my numb leg out in front of me. I might not have had enough compassion to say all the things Fawn needed to hear, but I had enough pity to keep my mouth shut and listen.

When Fawn finally stopped talking, Dodd and JohnScott were waiting for me in the backyard. Dodd pulled me into a hug, and his embrace settled my nerves like a drink of warm milk after a nightmare. “I’m sorry I got your family tangled up in this,” he said softly.

Rowdy sat at JohnScott’s feet, looking as weary as I felt, and my cousin reached down to scratch behind the dog’s ears. “I’d say Fawn got us tangled, not you. Besides, we want to help.”

“Velma’s looking after her like a mother hen.” Dodd smiled.

“That’s Mom. I better get in there and see if she needs anything else.”

Dodd tightened his arm around my waist and kissed my temple. “We’ll come inside in a while.”

It seemed a strange time for him to show so much affection, but I figured we were both emotionally wrecked from the events of the day. I gazed at the pasture, enjoying the cold wind in my hair. “Want to go for a walk?”

Dodd opened the metal gate into the side pasture, still spotted with snow, and we walked slowly, crunching pebbles into the damp sand. It seemed we were both lost in thought.

I assumed he was contemplating Fawn’s predicament, but he surprised me. “Can we talk about us?”

“Us?” I reached for his hand, but he didn’t say anything else until we were leaning against the cement walls of the holding tank. Either he had something important to say, or he was nervous. Or both.

I peered into his blue eyes, not sure I wanted to be having this conversation.

He used two fingers to push my hair out of my eyes and behind my ear. “I’m falling in love with you, Ruthie.” His grin flashed, then instantly vanished. “You’re fascinating … and adorably spunky. You’re constantly surprising me with your cleverness and independence, yet I fret about your college plans and worry about your mother because I want everything that involves you to be happiness.”

His flattery sparked a warm glow of contentment inside me, yet at the same time, I felt exposed. I looked away from him with a smile, studying the brown moss waving in the water.

His voice slowed. “I lay awake at night dreaming of spending the rest of my life with you—watching romantic comedies by the fire, putting up Christmas lights that make the neighbors jealous … raising kids.”

My heart raced. He was saying more than he loved me. Good gracious, did I love him back?

He pressed his palm against my cheek, bringing my gaze back to his face, and his eyebrows floated up momentarily before returning to their starting point. “Is there any part of you that wants to be with me like that?”

The crinkles around his eyes made it impossible for me to concentrate. I searched my mind, trying to piece together a response. How did I feel about him? He was obviously very important to me—I’d risked Momma’s wrath to be with him. And his kind heart pulled me like a magnet. Even his love for God attracted me because of the way he went about showing it.

But he was the preacher, for heaven’s sake. Not only did he lead the congregation that had caused Momma so much pain, but he supported them one hundred percent, to the extent he was blind to the faults of its members. I pictured Neil Blaylock leaning over the counter at the diner, whispering in Momma’s ear, trailing his fingertips across the back of her hand. And Fawn—poor miserable, pregnant Fawn—who had caught Dodd and me together and couldn’t manage to keep the information to herself, even as her own life unraveled.

I didn’t know what to say, so I returned my gaze to the water.

Dodd’s hand traveled down my back questioningly, but he forged on. “But I also dream of you sitting on the front pew as I preach.” He hooked a finger through the belt buckle of my jeans and tilted his head, imploring me to make eye contact. “Ruthie, I know you’re not ready for that yet, but will you study with me? God is the most important thing in my world, and I want to share that with you.” When I didn’t respond, he added softly, “I can’t go on not knowing if it’s a possibility.”

The cold concrete, coupled with the air blowing over the water, chilled me as I slowly formed my thoughts into words. “I know God should probably be the center of my life, and I honestly would like to get to know Him better. But until the church, especially the Blaylocks, stop throwing stones at me, I don’t see how I can reach out to Him.” I finally looked into Dodd’s eyes again. “That would be sort of hypocritical, don’t you think?”

He chuckled. “You’re worried about being a hypocrite?”

We were both silent for several minutes before he bumped my shoulder with his own. The action normally would’ve come across as a laid-back action, but this time it was awkward and forced. “I wish you wouldn’t let the church come between you and God. The people may never change, but that doesn’t mean you can’t.”

My scalp prickled. Did he just tell me I needed to change? Breathlessness washed over me as though I had submerged myself in the icy water of the holding tank, and my heart hardened into a frozen block. God may have been alive and well outside the church, but as long as I was with Dodd, the congregation and all its judgment would be inescapable.

He smiled, oblivious to his piety. “They may be throwing stones, but admit it, you’ve thrown a few bricks back at them as well.”

“What do you mean?”

“You judge the church.” He sounded tired. “It’s pulling you down.”

A puff of air erupted from my throat, followed by a sharp intake of breath. “You can’t be serious. I don’t judge the church, Dodd. They judge me. And they judge Momma. And from what I hear, Clyde Felton, too.”

“But you never take into consideration the motives behind their actions. Maybe they believe they’re doing the right thing. Maybe some of them are.”

I gripped my elbows, digging my fingertips into the fleece of my jacket.

His shoulders fell. “Ruthie … the world isn’t as bad as you make it out to be. You’d be a lot happier if you’d admit that.”

“Happy like Fawn?”

“Fawn’s in the middle of a mess, but overall her life has been happy.”

“I guess it depends on your definition of happiness. She’s lived with an overbearing father who set her up for failure.”

Dodd’s voice leveled. “Neil may be off track on some things, but he loves his daughter. He’ll come around.”

“The man is deceitful.”

“No, he’s human. Just like the rest of us.” Disappointment smeared his words. “Surely you have compassion for Fawn, at least.”

I raised my palms, then let them fall to my sides. “I feel sorry for her, I do. But if she hadn’t told Neil about you and me, Momma never would’ve lost her job. And now you may lose yours, too, and I can’t help but think it’s all connected.”

Dodd turned away from me then and placed his hands on the edge of the holding tank, bending at the waist as though he were about to push the cement walls across the yard. He stared at the ground between his boots, his arms rigid and his jaw tight. He remained paralyzed that way until I wondered if he intended to answer.

“Fawn didn’t tell Neil.” He finally answered without lifting his head. “I did.”

His words made no sense at first. I had been expecting him to argue about whether or not Neil got Momma fired, not this. My mouth went dry, and I licked my lips. “What are you saying?”

He swallowed. “A week or so ago, I talked to Neil about the church’s actions against your family. I told him I cared for you and asked his advice.”

My tongue could form no reply as I studied this man who, only moments before, had almost spurred me to declare my love. He still gripped the concrete, staring at the ground between his feet. With his right boot, he pressed a patch of slushy snow into the sand.

What did he expect from me?

I pulled my gaze away toward the gray lines of the old windmill behind the holding tank, lifting my gaze to the sky where its blades once rotated. When I was a kid, JohnScott and I would climb up there where we could see for miles, but now the windmill was only a useless skeleton, replaced by an electric pump. Things changed.

“This is not going to work,” I said quietly. “Us. You talk about loving me, but you don’t listen to what I’m saying or validate my problems. Even your love for me hinges on them.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him slowly lift his head. “That’s not true, Ruthie. I want to spend my life with you.”

“No, you don’t.” My lips curved into an empty smile. “You don’t want me. Not really. You want a shadow of who I am.” The new and improved version.

My heart didn’t want to be having this discussion. I didn’t want to say these things to him, and I certainly didn’t want to hurt him. Truth was, I wanted Dodd Cunningham as much as he wanted me, but I had no choice. It was wrong to keep pretending things were going to be all right.

Steeling myself, I whispered, “You don’t need a wife, Dodd. You’re already married to your church.”

I turned to face him then, but the man staring down at me didn’t even look familiar. I’d never seen his eyes without at least a hint of humor around the edges, and I realized my statement had wounded him deeply.

He spoke in monotone. “Is that really how you feel?”

I nodded, not daring to speak lest my words give me away. I wanted to scream, “Of course that’s not how I feel!” But feelings didn’t matter anymore. Our relationship was no longer about butterflies fluttering in my stomach, or warm kisses shared beneath a Christmas tree. Now it was all about logic. And circumstances. And expectations.

And it simply wasn’t going to work.

His jaw moved back and forth before he asked, “Can we just take a break? Talk about it again later?”

The shrug I gave him was crueler than I intended.

He stared at me for a long time while the rejection in his eyes melted into sadness. Finally he turned away and plodded across the pasture to the El Camino, not once looking back. The blue heeler met him halfway across the yard, following behind with his tail wagging.

When Dodd’s headlights turned onto the highway, I collapsed into a dirty metal lawn chair on which melted snow left a slimy surface, but I didn’t care. Loneliness floated over me like a snowdrift. Loneliness so thick I could smell it. Taste it. Hear it. Not even when my daddy left had I felt anything like it. Not even when the church shunned us. Not even when Momma became a ghost.

But when Dodd Cunningham walked away that afternoon, he left me with no one.