Page 35 of Christmas Home

“A bit of a fool, is it?” Corey asked, and when I looked over, he smirked. “Let’s get you home before you turn into a hillbilly.”

I smiled, but Clyde’s words from the night before struck me.Hillbilly. Was Clyde a hillbilly? I didn’t know. Was that even really a thing? Sure, he and I came from different worlds, but he was an amazing human being. One I’d loved to have gotten to know better.

I glanced over at the café, then shook my head. “You’re probably right. Let’s get going.”

Corey nodded, adjusted the satellite radio to the station I liked, and I drove out of town. I knew we’d be back. The project we’d started dictated that. Corey would probably have to come back this way sooner than me, though.

Regardless, it was time to go. I’d come to face the demons of my past, and, for the most part, I had. There was more work to be done there, like facing the librarian and his famous singer husband, and maybe even talk them into letting me tour the house, but for now, I’d fought the devil and won.

At least I could be proud of that.

thirty

Clyde

When I finished tellingthe sheriff, deputy, and Mrs. Cole all I’d done, I cringed as I waited for them to slap the cuffs on and take me to jail. Instead, Darren, the deputy, pushed me out of the booth, and I found myself in the middle of a group hug. When others who’d heard my confession joined in, I broke down, having to be held up by those hugging me.

It took a long damn time for me to stop crying. When I finally did, and the cluster of people pulled back, I looked at the sheriff and asked if we were going to the station now.

“Oh, goodness, no. You stole, and that was a crime, one you might still have to face, but when the man broke into your home, forced you to pay him, and then threatened others, that shifted the blame onto him. Not to mention the fact that he hurt you.”

“But, I have priors. Surely that’s gonna hurt.”

“Maybe,” she said and took my hand, “but we don’t make a point of arresting domestic abuse victims, even those who stole money to get away.”

“Can you protect Ruther?” I asked. “And Corey?”

She nodded. “I think so, but,” she said, looking at Mrs. Cole, “Clyde can’t stay in that motel. It’s not safe, and I can’t afford to have someone stationed there to keep an eye on him.”

“Oh, don’t you worry about that,” Mrs. Cole said, her tear-streaked face set in stone. “We take care of our own.”

Sheriff Pat smiled and turned to me. “You lay low until we get that man apprehended.”

I nodded, then gratefully slid back into the booth, and Mrs. Cole joined me.

The townspeople who’d heard it all sat back down, too, but they were all still listening, still giving what support they could. “I-I’m so embarrassed, but I couldn’t let Jimmy hurt Ruther or Corey. I…not because of me being stupid.”

“You stop that right now,” Mrs. Cole said sternly. “You weren’t being stupid. You were surviving. Ain’t a soul here that wouldn’t take a baseball bat after that Jimmy character if they could. He don’t deserve your thoughts, much less your fear. Don’t you worry, Sheriff Pat will find that scoundrel and put him up for good.”

I gave a watery laugh, knowing the law didn’t tend to put men up for domestic violence. Too many years of watching my mom call the cops on my dad showed me that much.

“I’ll be okay if she’s going to pick Jimmy up. I should be fine over at the motel.”

“Like hell,” she said. “You okay to come with me? If so, I’ll show you something I shoulda already shown you.”

I nodded and thanked all the sweet people who’d stood by me just a few minutes ago, then rushed after Mrs. Cole to keep from losing my shit all over again.

She led me out the back of the café and up a set of steel steps. Then she pulled her key ring out of a pocket and unlocked an ancient brown door at the top.

I followed her into a dusty, slightly musty room. “I lived here until I married my sweet husband. It’s a bit dirty, hasn’t been used in years. I was going to clean it up and rent it as one of them vacation rentals, but I never got around to it.”

She looked around the room and sighed. “It ain’t the Ritz, but it was good enough for me, and I reckon it’s good enough for you too. You’ll be putting some elbow grease in ’cause it needs a good deep clean, but to be honest, it’s a heap better’n that old dump you’ve been staying in.”

“I-I can’t take this. I don’t…hell, I’m surprised I’m not in jail.”

“You deserve it better’n any other person I’ve ever met, and it don’t do nobody any good sittin’ up here empty. You’d be doin’ me a favor, if I’m honest.”

“H-how much?”

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