Page 53 of Unforgiven

“I’d like that, though I can’t see that happening. She still can’t seem to handle being around too many people. Especially not a party.”

“It’s a shame, ain’t so?” she whispered.

“Jah.” Taking Melonie’s hand in his, he settled for holding it instead of offering any false promises or empty platitudes.

She stepped closer, smiling up at him, and relief spread through Lott.

Everything was okay at that moment. Since tomorrow wasn’t a guarantee, he’d take it and give thanks.

19

Tabitha knew she was being hard on herself, but she couldn’t help it. She’d been such a fool. No, it was worse than that. She’d been stupid.

She’d woken up that morning feeling like she was going to climb the walls of her house if she didn’t get out for a spell. At first, she tried to ignore the feeling. Then, after lunch, she felt the pull again. By three o’clock, she didn’t want to fight it anymore. So, even though she had a very good reason for staying inside behind locked doors, she’d left her house and had tea with Mary.

Her sister and the boys had been happy to see her. Well, the boys had been. Mary had seemed surprised and a little wary to have Tabitha over without Roy’s permission, but she’d been cordial enough. After staying only a half hour, Tabitha still hadn’t been ready to go home, so she’d gathered her courage and gone to the market for deli meat and cheese. It had been years since she’d done that.

She’d felt pretty good about her burst of bravery too. Even though Martha Brenneman had barely been civil and Ivan Troyer had taken one look at her and gone down a separate aisle in the store, Tabitha hadn’t let that bother her. Especially since she’d taught Martha’s daughter Daisy, who’d been a poor sport. More than once Tabitha had tried to help the child to not be so competitive and such a sore loser. Her words of wisdom hadn’t done much good, though.

But when she returned home, Tabitha had realized that leaving had been a big mistake. A gift of yarn had been waiting on her front doorstep. She’d picked up the skein with a cry of pleasure, ignoring the note beside it. The yarn was spun from alpaca fur, so soft and luxurious—and no doubt expensive.

Sure that Mary had dropped it off as an apology for her less than welcoming attitude, Tabitha had torn open the card’s envelope and read the note scrawled inside. And felt like she was going to be sick.

Then she knew she was.

She’d run inside, dropping the yarn and card and her keys onto the coffee table, and barely made it to the toilet in time. Only after she washed her face and brushed her teeth did it occur to her that she hadn’t locked the front door before running down the hall.

How could she have been so foolish? Leon could’ve been lurking in the woods, watching her open the yarn and run inside. He could even be in the house now, just waiting for her to walk out of the bathroom. That thought made her feel sick all over again.

Hands shaking, she pressed the lock on the door. Enclosing her in the small, tiled space.

Her brow grew damp.

If he was there, he’d have a smile on his face. Sometimes she’d felt as if he’d almost looked forward to her doing something wrong. Then he could justify his actions to himself. During her weakest moments, she’d almost believed she deserved to be punished too.

“Nee,” she whispered. “You know better than that. You’re stronger than to think such things. Plus, you never deserved his abuse. No matter what you did, you never deserved that.”

She wanted to believe that small voice in her head. She really did. But years of hiding still got the best of her and she fell back into old habits in the blink of an eye.

Her keys clattered on the living room floor.

He was out there. He’d gotten in.

Tabitha clenched her teeth so she wouldn’t scream. Then she heard a soft whine and a scratch at the bathroom door.

“Chance!” She’d forgotten all about the dog.

Chance whined again, this time far more high-pitched. He pawed at the bathroom door again. He sensed her distress. She knew he did.

With her shaking hand on the doorknob, she willed herself to release the lock and turn the knob. She needed to face her fears, calm Chance, and call Sheriff Johnson about the yarn and note.

She almost felt safe. Almost. But still she hesitated.

Glancing at herself in the mirror, she saw a pale face looking back at her. A line of perspiration bordered her hairline.

No, she wasn’t safe here. It was an illusion. Especially since she didn’t have her phone. Maybe Leon had been right, after all. Maybe she really was stupid and couldn’t do anything right.

“Nee. That’s not true.” She swallowed. “It’s not true at all,” she added, her voice a bit louder.

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