Deep in the Heart of Dixie

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  Jake walked Dixie to her door. It was late, past midnight. The party rolled on with many of the guests stretched out on blankets. Most had slugged down one alcoholic beverage too many and heads were swimming. A bonfire roared with the brave of heart gathered around singing at the top of their lungs, fortified by beer. Dixie watched them all, her heart swelling with great affection for every, single one. It was the first time she could call her neighbors her own in a true neighborhood where people looked out for one another, lent a hand, could borrow a cup of sugar or find a babysitter at the last minute. If only Dixie had grown up some place like this…but that was neither here nor there. She stretched up on her toes to give Jake a well-deserved kiss. “Thank you for your part in the festivities. They really know how to live here in the trailerhood. It looks like they could go all night long. You sure you don’t want to spend the night on my couch?”

  Jake tipped his forehead to hers. “Sugar, you do not know how good that sounds but a Southern boy’s code of honor will not allow it. I cannot stay the night with a girl until we have been wed and since we’re not at that point yet, it’s off to the truck I go. I might sleep there all night so if my mama calls, that’s probably where I am.” He gave her a butterfly kiss and forced himself to step back before he lost his resolve which was crumbling by the second. That couch sounded mighty inviting. “’Night, Dixie Cup. I’ll see you at work tomorrow. It’s all right if you sleep in some. I’ll open up.” His eyes were dark with longing, the reflection of the bonfire gleaming as brightly as his feelings.

  Dixie felt the butterflies travel from the kiss to her stomach and pressed a hand to her belly to calm them. “’Night, Jake Lee Jackson. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She watched him walk to his truck, reluctantly went inside, and leaned up against the door. She needed it to hold her up after that kiss, those

  eyes and that smile. She knew who she’d dream of that night.

  She flicked off the living room light, kicked off her shoes, and padded into her bedroom, so familiar she could find everything with her eyes closed. This was her place, the first place she had made her own. She stepped inside and the hint of another’s presence hit her with the stench of alcohol and a mix of strong body odor. A chunk of ice, cold fear lodged in her stomach and she was frozen. The moment she had dreaded, had fought so hard to escape, showed up, her nightmare come to life. He was here. She knew it and he knew that she did. A low rumble of laughter, cruel and without humor, slithered out of the darkened corner. “Welcome home, girlie. Aren’t you going to come to Papa?”

  Owen stepped out of the closet, illuminated by the moonlight shining through her window. He was worse than a bad dream or her memories.

  Covered in filth, unwashed and unkempt, he made anything the cat dragged in look better. In a flash, his hand snapped out, grabbed hold of her hair and twisted.

  That was all it took to bring Dixie to her knees, make her that girl huddled in the corner all over again. Tears sprang to her eyes and a small whimper escaped her as everything she had accomplished, all she had become, began to fall apart. What had made her believe she could simply walk away from the time before? How could she possibly think he would let her go?