A Texas Family. Linda Warren
cut their piece of pie a little bigger at the café. They’ll do anything for an extra piece of pie.”
Jena believed they did it for Hilary. She had a way with people.
She looked at the white ceiling. “I’m assuming this has a roof on it.”
“Of course.”
“Then why didn’t you roof the whole house?”
“Well—” she tilted her head slightly “—I ran out of money. I can get the guys to do hard labor, but I can’t get them to fork over any cash. So Bobby Joe put tar on it, and he’s coming back to repair that one spot that’s still leaking.”
“If you’re happy...”
“I am.” She did a dance, swung around in a quick move and did a ta-da with her hands pointed toward the washer and dryer in a typical Vanna White gesture. “I can wash clothes anytime I want. I feel empowered.”
Jena laughed, something she hadn’t done in a long time, but in her heart she felt guilty. She had those conveniences in Dallas and more, while her mother and sister lived in poverty. While she was here she would try to improve things as much as she could.
Arm in arm they walked into the kitchen. Their mother sat at the table, staring off into space, her food barely touched.
Hilary went to her. “Hey, Mama, why aren’t you eating?”
“What? Oh.” Norma looked up, her eyes blank. “I’m not hungry. You can—” She stared at Jena. “What are you doing here? You have to go. They’ll hurt you. C’mon.” She stood up so fast the chair went flying into the stove.
Hilary immediately hugged their mother, motioning for Jena to go into the other room. Her legs trembled, but she did what her sister asked.
“It’s okay, Mama,” Hil was saying. “A little nap and you’ll feel much better.”
“Why do I keep seeing her?”
“Because you’re worried about her, but Jena is fine. Remember I told you she’s coming for a visit.”
“No. They’ll hurt her again.”
“That was in the past. Things are different now.”
“I’m so cold.”
“Lie down and I’ll get a blanket.” In a few minutes Hilary was back in the living room.
“Is she always like that?” Jena asked.
“It comes and goes. Today’s a bad day. She’ll wake up and be almost normal. It’s strange.”
“She shouldn’t be left by herself.”
Hilary shrugged. “I don’t have much choice. I have to work, but I check on her all the time. It’s not that far to the café, and the good thing is she won’t leave the house. This is familiar, and if I force her outside for fresh air she gets all nervous.”
“We have to talk about this, Hil.”
“I’m not putting her in a home,” Hilary said with a stubborn lift of her chin.
Jena didn’t want to do that, either, but they’d have to have a serious conversation soon.
“Enough with the depressing thoughts.” Hil jerked off her boots and socks. “I want to try on those shoes. Off with them.”
Jena smiled and really looked at her sister’s attire for the first time. She wore a denim skirt that flared out around her thighs, a red-and-white-check blouse and cowgirl boots with red tops. Bracelets dangled on her wrist; large silver earrings hung from her ears. She looked as if she was going square dancing.
Undoing the tiny strap around her ankles, Jena said, “Love the outfit.”
“I make sure no one forgets me.” Hilary slipped on the four-inch heels. “Wow.” She tottered across the living room and then mimicked the walk of a runway model, tripped and fell onto the sofa, laughing. “How do you walk in these things?”
“You get used to it, and I have to dress nice for my job.”
“Oh, yeah, the big attorney.”
Jena didn’t miss the sarcastic tone. “He’s been nice to me, Hil.”
“You deserve it, Jen-Jen.”
She felt a warm glow at the nickname her sister had given her.
Hilary placed the shoes on the coffee table. “I saw the Accord parked at Carson’s. A lot of people did and wondered who you were. I didn’t say anything.”
“I don’t care who knows I’m back.”
Hilary played with the hem of her skirt. “They’ll wonder about the baby.”
Hearing the fear in her sister’s voice, she got up and sat by her on the sofa. “It doesn’t matter. The truth is going to come out.”
“What did Carson say?”
“Not much. I told him I want to see my child and he could either get the information from his father or the authorities would. I’m not afraid of them anymore.”
Hilary continued to pick at the hem. “Sometimes I have nightmares about that night.”
“Me, too,” she murmured as her stomach cramped.
“Mama and I were so worried. You didn’t come home from your shift at the convenience store. Just as we were getting ready to go look for you, Roland Stubbs and Curly Sanders dragged you into the house. Your clothes were bloody. Roland said, ‘Get her out of town before Asa kills her.’”
Hilary took a breath. “Then you told us what had happened, and Mama was furious. She put you to bed and borrowed Mrs. Carter’s car because the sheriff had seized Dad’s truck for evidence. She and I went to the Bar C. She demanded the baby, and Asa pushed her against one of those huge pillars on the porch and threatened to kill all of us. He didn’t care, he said. His son was dead.”
Jena wanted her to stop talking. She didn’t want to remember, but in truth she thought of that horrible night vividly almost every day. And every night.
“We came home, and Mama called cousin Nan in Dallas, and she drove through the night to get you out of Willow Creek. You lay on the backseat in a blanket and cried the whole way. I cried, too.”
Jena wrapped her arms around her waist to still the trembling.
“Cousin Nan said you could stay with her, and Mama gave her some money. I don’t know where she got it. Funny how I remember that. Mama and I returned to Willow Creek, and I didn’t realize until weeks later that you weren’t coming back. I cried myself to sleep that night.” Hil wiped away an errant tear. “For weeks I looked for newborn babies in Willow Creek. There weren’t any, except with women who had been pregnant. Do you...don’t get upset...do you think Asa might have killed it?”
Jena tensed. “Sometimes. But I don’t think even Asa could have been so cruel as to kill the baby if he thought there was a chance it was Jared’s child.”
“But he’s crazy.”
Jena stood, needing to move to stop the flood of memories.
“Jen-Jen?”
“Hmm?”
“I know you’re set on finding your baby, and I would be, too, but have you thought the child would be almost nine years old now and probably with a family who loves it dearly?”
“I’ve thought of a million scenarios.”
“It’s been a long time. You have a good life in Dallas. Wouldn’t it be best to leave the past in the past?”
“I have to know where my child is.”
“I’m afraid you’re going to get hurt again.”