Thicker than Blood

  “Pop, that was a long time ago.”

  “True.” His father let out a long breath. “But she could’ve told us what Vince was doing.”

  Hunter fingered the player. “You heard how he threatened me. And you saw how he treated Abby.”

  Pop sighed and nodded. There was real regret on his face. “I wish I could redo some things.”

  “We can do something now.” Hunter slid the player across the desk surface. Pop caught it. He leaned forward and grinned at him. “So tell me, what are our plans?”

  ***

  The next day Harvey surprised Christy with a hospital visit. May had just left to get something to eat in the cafeteria when Christy heard a knock and his familiar voice announce, “Room service!”

  He stepped in the room dressed in jeans and a polo shirt, carrying an armful of flowers and his briefcase. The ever dutiful lawyer.

  “How’s our patient doing?” he said, stooping to kiss her forehead.

  She hugged him as best as she could from the bed.

  “May called and told me what happened,” Harvey said.

  “Should be out in a few more days.”

  Harvey rumpled her hair like she was a kid again. “How’s the pain?”

  “They’ve got me doped up.”

  “Next time you start hankering for a scenic horseback ride, you might consider taking a few more lessons.”

  She laughed. “Agreed.”

  He sat down and rested his hands on the bed rail. “What did the doctors say?”

  “Six weeks of crutches. No weight on it, lots of therapy. Tons of fun.” Christy decided to hint at some of what she’d shared with May. “A lot’s happened.”

  Harvey’s face went grim. “I know about the fire. Found out when I went to see you a few days ago. I hope you don’t mind, but when I couldn’t get in touch I went looking for you at work. I met Hunter Dawson at the bookstore, and we got to talking, sort of comparing notes. He was as concerned about you as I was, and he shared with me some of the things that have been going on in your life.”

  Christy felt her walls going up. She wrestled to stay open. “I guess he told you I was fired?”

  “In so many words. But he also shared the circumstances of why it happened. That book going missing and all.”

  “He thinks I stole it.”

  Harvey tilted his head slightly. “Not exactly.”

  “He found it in my car.”

  “Yes.”

  “I didn’t put it there. I hope you can believe me.”

  “I do, and Hunter wanted to.” Harvey picked up her hand. “He told me about Vince.”

  She took a deep breath. It had been hard to admit her failures to May, and it was no easier with Harvey. “I wish I’d never met him.”

  “If only I could’ve helped you sooner.”

  “I was an idiot.”

  “He’s a loser. What he did wasn’t your fault.”

  She wasn’t so sure but let him go on.

  “Your friend Hunter and I decided to look into things together. When I found out your apartment burned, I got worried. That’s when Hunter discovered that book in your car was a fake.”

  Christy tried to sit up. “What?”

  “I didn’t know exactly what he meant, but he explained how the dust jacket had the photographer’s name on the back.”

  She thought out loud. “Making it a second state rather than a first.”

  “That’s what he said.”

  Her mind whirred as she thought back to when she and Hunter stood outside her car. She’d seen it with her own eyes, but neither of them had checked the dust jacket. “What about the signature? I saw that myself.”

  “Forged.”

  Vince would be clever enough.

  “We suspected Vince, but Hunter found out for sure. Went to his house looking.” Harvey smiled. “He tells me he beat Vince at his own game by pretending to find the real book there. Apparently Vince all but admitted to being the crook, and Hunter got it on tape.”

  “He went to his house?” Christy could still remember the rage in Vince’s eyes when he’d attacked her in the barn. She wouldn’t have been able to forgive herself if Vince had hurt Hunter.

  “He really went to bat for you,” Harvey said.

  “Where’s Vince now?”

  “We don’t know.”

  Her heart sunk. “He’s been following me.” She told Harvey everything from how she thought Vince set the fire to him beating her up in the barn.

  When she finished, Harvey looked like he’d been beaten himself. “Have you spoken with the police?”

  “I haven’t decided what to do.”

  Harvey held her hand in both of his. “We’re going to put an end to this. I promise I’ll help in any way I can.”

  “This time I’ll let you.” Christy squeezed his fingers. More people cared about her than she ever imagined.

  “I was going to talk to you about Aunt Edna’s estate,” Harvey said. “But maybe we should wait for a better time.”

  “Actually, I’d like the distraction.”

  He hesitated, then opened his briefcase and pulled out some papers. “Are you sure? I need you to sign a few things.”

  “Just show me where.”

  He did, and while she read some of it, she felt it was finally okay to ask when the money would come. It would be just what she needed to get back on her feet.

  “It really depends,” Harvey said. “I’m trying to hurry through probate as much as I can for you two.”

  She went out on a limb. “You do know about the financial difficulties May’s having, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will she have enough now to save the ranch?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  Christy blew out a long breath. “You’re the lawyer. Can’t anything be done?”

  “They’re meeting one more time to beg for an extension, but it doesn’t look like they’ll get it. If not, it’s really only a matter of time.”

  “She loves that place,” Christy said. She’d witnessed firsthand what it meant to May. It was her future, her passion, her dream. Almost her existence. She would have nothing without it.

  “I wish I could do something. I’ve called everyone I know, but that bank is sticking to their guns.” Harvey handed her a pen. “Ready to sign those?”

  She ruffled through the pages some more. Everything looked in order. She took the lid off his gold-nibbed pen and stared at it in her fingers.

  “Problem?”

  “No, no. The papers look fine. It’s . . . I need to think about this.”

  ***

  Two days later they released Christy from the hospital. She and May chatted the whole way back to the ranch. Nothing profound, but that didn’t matter. Every conversation was a chance for Christy to get to know May again—her likes, dislikes, opinions. She loved every minute of it.

  After settling Christy on the sofa, May left the ranch house for a few minutes to check the cattle. Christy tried to relax into the pillows propped behind her but instead kept fidgeting, unable to get comfortable.

  Her body screamed for a drink, and she didn’t know what to do about it. The painkillers she was taking didn’t seem to help her cravings at all. For years, whenever she’d felt lonely or worried, alcohol had been her constant friend, always there, ready to offer comfort. Her first instinct was to find a glass and fill it. She’d had no choice about staying dry in the hospital, but now the only thing keeping her from that bottle of vodka in her car was her stupid cast.

  Her inner war was still raging when she heard Jim enter the house. Did she have the courage to talk to him about it? “Jim?”

  He poked his head into the living room, once again wearing worn and dirty coveralls like he had the day he found her snooping around. “Need anything?”

  Christy hadn’t spoken with him alone since the day of her accident when he’d convinced her to go to church. “I need to talk to you,” she said, clu
eless what she was going to say. But the urge to drink was becoming so strong she knew if she didn’t get help soon she would be finishing that vodka today, if she had to crawl out there to get it.

  “Sure. What about?”

  “I don’t know how to say this. But I remember you telling me you used to drink.” None of this would be easy to put into words, but she had to try. She wanted to do what was right. She wanted to honor God with her life, but she didn’t know how. “Don’t you ever want to drink anymore?”

  Jim sat down on the sofa beside her. “Yeah, sometimes. But not as much as I used to.”

  “What do you do?”

  He took a moment to answer, his eyes focused on the coffee table. Maybe she was being too nosy. “Honestly, I had a tough time in the beginning. Messed up more than once. Then a good friend gave me some advice. First, I needed to get myself to some sort of recovery group. Pronto. Then second, when I felt the need to drink, I should pray until the urge passed.”

  “And it worked?”

  “For me.”

  “What if you don’t know how to pray?”

  “You just talk to God. It’s nothing fancy.”

  Christy studied her cast. She’d hoped things would automatically be different.

  What she’d felt up on the mountain, that peace, was real. She knew that. The massive weight of all the guilt and shame she’d lugged around for fifteen years had beautifully lifted. So she was surprised to still have the same desires, the same addictions.

  “I can’t tell you how much I want a drink right now,” she said, almost under her breath, not sure what Jim would think.

  He sat quietly, just listening.

  “I want to do the right thing, but I don’t know if I can. I’ve been this way for so long.”

  “Christy,” Jim said, and she tuned into him. What he had to say meant so much right now. “The Bible says the Lord won’t let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. You can be sure that any craving, any desire, can be overcome with His help. You just have to walk it out, day by day, trusting He’ll help you. I know. I’ve been there.”

  She rubbed her forehead with both hands. “Guess you have.”

  “It’ll be hard at first. I can’t promise you a walk in the park. But I’ve been sober for almost ten years, and I’ll tell you, it’s worth it. Yeah, sometimes life’ll throw you a punch. You wanna drink because that’s what you’ve always done before. What do you do right then? Pray. Ask God to help you. Call someone like May or me. Join a group, maybe something at a church.”

  Christy took a deep breath. Pray. She’d have to be doing a lot of that. “The keys to my car are on the kitchen counter. There’s a bottle of vodka under the passenger seat, and a bottle of sherry in my suitcase. I’d appreciate it if you would get rid of them for me.”

  Chapter 23

  Christy couldn’t sleep. After hours of trying, she finally gave up and crept into the kitchen as quietly as she could with her crutches and cast. After filling a mug with coffee—she’d tripled her consumption since going cold turkey—she hobbled to the table with her steaming cup and sat in the dimness, the appliance bulb over the stove the only light.

  Five days had passed since she’d come home from the hospital, and gone was the strain between her and May. Sure, they’d still managed to get on each other’s nerves a few times, like when Christy tried to make herself useful by straightening up May’s room and her sister had practically bit her head off for it. But they’d agreed to talk things out now instead of holding in their feelings. It was new territory, but they both welcomed it.

  Christy was only now starting to understand what changed in their relationship. Just being May’s sister hadn’t kept her from leaving fifteen years ago. It hadn’t even given her the nerve to tell the truth. But now they had a bond even thicker than blood. Everything had changed up on that mountain. Somehow God’s love for both of them had accomplished something their blood ties never had. May was no longer a religious enigma. She was a beautiful Christian woman Christy wanted to emulate.

  Almost every evening they’d spent together sitting around the stove, talking and sharing. Sometimes Ruth joined them. She had a calm wisdom that made Christy want to sit at the older woman’s feet just to hear her talk. A couple of times May got out her Bible and read a few passages, which they discussed. The whole book was full of new concepts to Christy, but May and Ruth were always patient. So was Jim. She’d had a few more lengthy conversations with him since her first day back. He’d even prayed with her. Christy felt like she could call them all friends. They’d seen her at her worst, and amazingly they still cared.

  Last night Beth came over. At first, Christy was unsure how that was going to work. She knew May and Beth were close friends, and now that she was feeling closer to May herself, she didn’t want to be jealous of their friendship anymore. Her concern hadn’t been necessary. Beth joked with May just the same as before but readily included Christy in it too.

  Christy slurped at her brew. She would’ve stayed on crutches for the rest of her life if it meant she could remain at the ranch. But she knew she couldn’t. There were still things that needed to be resolved back home. Her arraignment for the drunk-driving charge was coming up at the end of the month. She’d decided to plead guilty and pay whatever price came—community service, probation, fines. They would be a reminder of who she’d been a short time ago and how she’d changed.

  Even though she didn’t feel much different now, she was sure what happened to her on Squatter’s Mountain had been real. May helped her understand that. What changed that night was her heart. The inside. The hunger for her old ways would dissipate over time, with God’s help, as she grew stronger in her faith.

  She hadn’t been able to quit smoking yet. One thing at a time. But she hadn’t had one drink, which was a huge boost to her self-esteem. She’d actually succeeded at tightening her belt and taking the honorable path, something she knew she could never have done without her newfound faith. And she planned to take Jim’s advice and seek out professional treatment too. She knew there was no way she could keep this up on her own. She needed the accountability.

  A long talk with Hunter was due. She couldn’t expect to get her job back, but she wanted to be as honest with him as she’d been with May. He’d believed in her when she hadn’t believed in herself. He’d even risked his life for her. It was the least she could do.

  And she had another appointment to keep as well.

  Christy finished her coffee in silent reflection. Whether she liked it or not, tomorrow she’d be leaving this sanctuary.

  ***

  After a hearty farewell breakfast made especially for Christy, the two sisters stood at the corral fence together and took in the view, indulging in its beauty. The blizzard had cleared days ago, leaving in its wake a sparkling, snow-covered world. The mountains stood sharp, their tops cutting at the blue sky. Both women were working hard to keep it together.

  “Now I understand why you moved out here,” Christy said.

  “Never knew it would become such a part of me.” May kept her eyes focused on the mountains.

  Christy knew what she was thinking. The bank hadn’t agreed to an extension, and she admired her sister’s strength at controlling her emotions. “It’s gonna be okay. God hasn’t forgotten you. I know it.”

  May put her arm around Christy. “Thanks, Sis.”

  Spirit sauntered toward them, hanging his huge gray head over the fence right beside Christy. “Hey, boy.” She stroked his nose. “Forgive me for that wild ride I took you on?”

  The horse nuzzled her jacket and May laughed. “Forgiven and forgotten,” she voiced for him. “Now give me a carrot.”

  They spent several aimless minutes petting the horse, putting off the inevitable.

  “This is a lot harder than I thought,” May said. “I was just getting used to having you around.”

  “I’ll be back. I promise.”

  May gave her a big hug.


  “Don’t cry,” Christy said. “Or you’ll make me.”

  “There’s something I want to give you.” May let her go and pulled a worn leather book out of her jacket. She handed it to her. “I want you to have this.”

  Christy took it and instantly knew it was May’s Bible. She eyed May incredulously. “I can’t take this. Aunt Edna . . . she gave it to you.”

  “I want you to have it.”

  Christy held the book to her chest. It was highlighted, underlined, and dog-eared. A priceless treasure to May. “You’ve been so good to me,” she said softly.

  “I wrote a verse inside.”

  Christy opened the cover and read Aunt Edna’s inscription to May, a sweet paragraph about her love and May’s baptism. Beneath that in fresh ink was Ephesians 2:12-13.“Remember that at that time you were separate from Christ . . . without hope and without God in the world. But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far away have been brought near through the blood of Christ.”

  She looked at May, hoping her face was showing how touched she was.

  “Auntie would be proud of you. Like I am.” May wiped at her eyes. “Let’s go get your suitcase.”

  They took their time walking back to the house, and May kept her hand on Christy’s arm in case her crutches slipped. Jim had plowed the yard before leaving for town to pick up some fence posts, but there were still icy patches. She’d already said good-bye to him and Ruth, who was off feeding the cattle with Scribbles.

  May swung open the back door and they both stepped inside, the country station playing quietly from the kitchen radio. “Are you sure you’re going to be able to drive with that thing on your foot?”

  “Oh, definitely,” she said. “I’ve already sat in the driver’s seat and tried it out. I can completely bend my knee, so it’s no problem. The hardest part is getting in and out.”

  May picked Christy’s car keys off the counter and held them up. “I’ll go warm up your car then.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Just take a minute.”

  She shrugged, and May disappeared out the door.

  More than anything Christy wished she could stay. After so many years of emptiness she felt like a parched sponge soaking up the love and acceptance May and her friends lavished on her.

  She wanted to bask in it, but she couldn’t. Not yet anyway. Too much remained undone back home.