Page 19 of Relentless

“Something tells me you’re not going to have that problem,” Clara replied, keeping her eyes straight forward on the road.

After another long, uncomfortable silence, Harper ventured again for casual small talk. Familiarity from their formerly close working relationship began to get the best of her, which was something she rarely allowed. “Do you ever see anyone from Pacific Crest?” Harper asked.

Clara gave a calloused chortle. “I haven’t gone to church since — everything,” she admitted.

“And why’s that?” Harper inquired, raising a sharp eyebrow.

“I suppose,” Clara hesitated as though she were gauging the safety of the conversation. “I always wanted to be useful,” she breathed out, “—and I guess, I just thought the dynamic would bedifferent.”Her response was clearly a well-constructed, carefully rehearsed explanation that she had woven around the oppressive Davenport Ministries’ legal contracts.

Looking away out the passenger window, Harper propped her chin on her fist. “Pity, young people these days. Leaving the church in droves,” she remarked. “No loyalty.”

Between the darkness in the car and her groggy mind, she thought she caught Clara rolling her eyes ever so slightly.

The trip to the little beachside hospital stretched through the night and into the early morning hours. When she was finally examined by a doctor, he superglued her wounds closed and told her what she already knew — she had a concussion.

The sun was rising when they eventually left the hospital and returned to Clara’s car. Harper was loaded with pain medication and stocked with a bottle of pills for the road.

“Well, that doctor must have been at the top of his class in medical school,” she gibed, “What an imbecile.”

Clara quietly steered the car back to the Davenport Estate.

Sensing the weighty tension between them, Harper doubled down, now looking for a fight. “And I suppose you have something to say about it?”

“They were trying to help you, Harper,” Clara clapped back.

When they arrived at the house, Clara pulled her sedan around to the grandiose front doors.

“Go rest,” Clara ordered while tapping her fingers impatiently on the steering wheel.

“What do you mean,go rest?”Harper sputtered. “The doctor said that I need someone to stay with me.”

Clara pulled her fingers across her brow. It was as though she was now the one nursing a pounding headache.

“I’m sure there’s someone else.”

“I’m hurt, Clara,” Harper implored, throwing her hands in the air.

Clara firmly shook her head. “Call Shep or Mrs. Hollister,” she rattled off. “I’m sure Paisley —”

Harper felt a pang of annoyance hearing the names of those who had betrayed her trust in her most desperate time of need.

“I told you, I don’t have anyone,” she protested. Harper certainly would never lower herself tobeggingher former hired help, yet she felt desperation creeping back in.

“Harper, it’s not going to be me,” Clara stated flatly. “I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Oakleigh—”

Harper recoiled. “You’ve got to be joking.” That was the last thing she wanted to hear. “Thanks for nothing,” she spat. Pushing open the passenger door, she slammed it behind her.

“Harper,” Clara’s voice called after her. “Please, listen to the doctor,” she urged. “Do not drink while taking that prescription.”

“What do you care?” Harper flung the words over her shoulder. Raising her chin, she marched across the driveway. She was still feeling shaky on her feet, but she wouldn’t give Clara the satisfaction of knowing it. Stepping through the front door, she heard Clara’s car speed away down the driveway.

“Good riddance,” she muttered.

She made her way through the eerily silent house to the staircase, clutching the gold railing as if her life depended on it. Taking one painful step at a time, she noticed her filthy bare feet were leaving dark footprints on the clean white marble.

I’ll have the maid clean it up in the morning.

She remembered again that it was already morning, and there was no longer a maid in her employment.

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