Page 31 of The Christmas Extra

“Now,” I said, removing my cap and smiling at the lads, ranging from six to about fourteen, strapping boys all of them, with curious eyes. Shame they’d seen so much dysfunction already. “Why don’t we go to the kitchen and have us a talk?”

“The kitchen is a mess, Sheriff, what with the holiday meal and all. Nothing really to speak of, to be honest. Clint and me was having a talk about gravy.” Louise tucked a strand of mousy brown hair behind her ear, her sight never leaving my big black boots as she spoke. “I made it lumpy, and he yelled. That’s all. Not sure why one of the boys called emergency services. Nothing bad happened. Just a married couple loud talking.”

“He made Mama cry,” Daniel whispered. The eldest, Jeremy, stared at me hard, his jaw working as he looked to be biting back what he wanted to say.

“Now, honey, there’s no law about men making women cry. If there was, every man on the planet would be in jail,” Louise joked, but the pun fell flat.

“He hit her in the stomach,” Jeremy blurted out, his angry gaze flying to the window as his father could be seen staggering to the dairy barn, an old black-and-tan hound dog at his heels.

I looked from the window to Louise. “Did he hit you, Louise?”

She bit down on her lower lip and shook her head. “No, of course not. Clinton never hits me.” That was a lie, at least in my estimation. Either Louise Marley was an abused wife or she was the most clumsy human being on the planet. I personally knew of at least ten trips to the emergency room she’d had in the past twenty years. News travels fast in a small town and there are zero secrets. Since Louise wasn’t a minor, the medical personnel could not report it to me. All they could do was speak to her about what help was available to her in the county and then patch her up. I’d not heard of any physical abuse directed toward the boys, but the Lord above knows they’d suffered tons of mental agony.

“Mom, he did. He hit you. I saw it from the doorway!” Jeremy argued, and the two younger boys were now crying again.

“He didn’t hit me. Silly boy, now look what you’ve done. Take your brothers upstairs while I talk to the sheriff and then we’ll have pie.” She shooed them off. Jeremy gave me a look that I knew all too well. I nodded at him as he passed, his face a mask of ire and buried pain.

“Louise, if Clint is hurting you, there are options available to get you some help,” I said after the boys were upstairs.

She shook her head as she walked to the front door. When she opened it, I inhaled deeply and then released it before turning to look at her. If ever there was a bowed and defeated woman, I was looking at her. Her posture reminded me of my mother’s before we’d gotten free of the monster that had terrorized us.

“I don’t need help, Sheriff. It was just a loud shout. Now, I’m sure you have pie waiting for you at home with your new movie star boyfriend?” A cold wind whistled in over the tiny chore boots lying in the mudroom.

“If you’re sure that you’re okay and that no harm was brought to you, then I’ll head out. But if he gets loud and shouty again, do not hesitate to reach out. I can personally take you to the Wilda Hinkins Shelter over in the next county. You do not have to be in this situation, Louise.”

She finally glanced up at me. I took heart at the flash of understanding in her gaze. I’d not seen that on the previous calls I’d had out here.

“You’d do that?” she meekly asked, and I nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.” I had to strain to hear her whispers, and then quite boldly, she told me to go home and have pie. I met Clinton on the front porch.

“You done here, Sheriff?” he asked as the dog scurried through the open door with his tail tucked between his scrawny legs.

“I am. Night, Louise,” I called as I strolled past him. He mumbled under his breath as I passed, but I did catch deviant in the garbled stew of words. “Clinton,” I tacked on as I went down the stairs, breath fogging in front of my face.

The storm door was shut with such force the rafters on the porch vibrated. Exhaling deeply, I slid behind the wheel of my cruiser and sat there just staring at the house. From the outside, it looked like many farmsteads in our county, worn down by time and the lack of money to sustain it. Small farms were dying out, and that was incredibly evident in rural counties. Not just mine either but across the country. I called back in to let Lana know things were settled here and to notify my brothers in the state police barracks that no assistance was required.

Which was when a state police cruiser pulled up beside me. We had a short talk, me and Officer Clyde Maskin, and when that talk was concluded, he left.

I wished there were more I could do, but there wasn’t. Until Louise was ready, there was little help I could offer than I already had. There were no signs of recent physical injury to the alleged victim. And while I could have yanked him in on probable cause as one of the kids had said he’d hit her, Louise wouldn’t press charges, and then, knowing the type of man that Clint was, he’d lash out at Jeremy for talking to the cops. I could clearly recall the first time that I’d taken a blow meant for my mother after I’d told the police that my dad had hit my mom. It got me a black eye and a bloody nose. It also lit a fire under my mother. Scared as she had been of my father seeing her baby boy—although I was already a few inches taller than her—getting socked had been the catalyst she had needed to leave. So yeah, totally worth a punch in the face to get her free.

I prayed Jeremy wouldn’t get bloodied and bruised in order for Louise to break away from her rotten husband. Hopefully, it will be soon...

Knowing that there was nothing more for me to do here, I drove home with Neil Young’s “Old Man” blaring on a steady loop until I was parked in my skinny driveway. No sooner had I cut the engine, than Tony was jogging out to meet me. Not going to lie. His arms around me as we stood outside on the cold November night felt pretty damn good.

“We’ll talk over pie and coffee,” Tony said as we moved apart. He knew where I was at mentally. Even after all the years that had passed, he knew...

“That sounds good.”

He gave me a wobbly smile and led me back inside where it was warm and safe. He’d only been here a short while, but my house felt different now. It felt like a home. Like someone who cared about me lived here. I knew that was foolish because Tony and I were...well, not even dating properly, or improperly, but that was the vibe my heart was feeling. The smell of coffee, the crackle of the fire, the tangy scent of Tony’s aftershave, and the little mewl of welcome from my cat lying in front of the heat filled me with something that came frightfully close to the L word. Did I dare chance it? I’d been alone so long, scared so long, hurt and angry so long. Was it worth it to allow my emotions to soften and welcome this man back into my heart?

Neil had just been singing about how we needed people to love us. Maybe he was right. Who wasIto argue with the genius that was Mr. Neil Young?

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