Last Light

  “It’s not you,” she lied. “I just realized this is too hard. I don’t think I can handle it for several more days. I want to go home.”

  “Well, you’re not gonna get there. What do you think you’re gonna do? Prance back up the highway on foot?”

  “I’ll think of something. It’s not your problem.”

  He gave her a disturbed, somber look. “If you go back home and tell them about my stores, I swear I’ll make you regret you ever knew me. And I’ll make your family regret it, too.”

  The threat hit home. “I won’t tell them, Vic. I don’t want them knowing how stupid I am.”

  It was then that the farmhouse caught his eye, and he saw the family sitting on the porch. “Oh, I get it. You think you’ll get help from them.”

  Deni turned and looked at them. “So what? That shouldn’t affect you at all. It’s just a decision I’ve made.”

  “You scared of me now? Is that it?”

  She swallowed. “No. I’m just tired and hot. I’ve had it. I regret coming in the first place.”

  He looked up toward the house with narrow eyes, and watched the people for a moment. Someone from that porch got up and walked down the steps, staring their way. It was an older woman, and she looked kind. She waved.

  Vic waved back.

  “I have to go.” Deni got her suitcase, pulled out the handle, and tried to roll it through the soft grass, toward the barbed wire fence at the edge of their field. She glanced back, and saw Vic laughing softly. Let him laugh, as long as he left.

  She heard him slap the horses with the reins, heard their feet clomping on the road again. It was too good to be true. He was leaving, and she would really be rid of him!

  She took her suitcase, and with both hands, hefted it up and dropped it over the fence. Carefully, she dropped the dress over, letting it fall on the luggage. Then she pulled up the bottom wire and squeezed under it.

  When she stood back up, she saw that the woman had come out into the yard, and seemed to be waiting for her. She didn’t look angry that Deni had trespassed, or that she was crossing over their plowed field of beans.

  Deni’s feet sank into that soft dirt as she carried her wedding dress on one arm and the suitcase that felt as if it held cement blocks in the other.

  By now that whole family had come off the porch and waited for her in the yard. One of the younger men came toward her.

  She trudged forward as fast as she could, hoping they were as kind as they appeared.

  Finally, the man approached her. He was young, maybe twenty-four or twenty-five.

  “Hi,” she said, out of breath. “I’m Deni Branning. I was hoping you could help me. I’ve been on the road for a couple of days—”

  “Welcome, Deni.” He took the suitcase out of her hand. “Mama saw you coming and told me to run out and help you.”

  “Thank you.” She surrendered the suitcase, but held on to the dress.

  “You look like you have a story to tell, and we need some entertainment.” As they started back toward the house, he nodded to the dress over her arm. “Can I help you with that?”

  “No. It’s my wedding dress. I’ll carry it myself.”

  He laughed then. “Well, that ought to make a doozy of a story.” Calling up toward the house, he said, “She brought her wedding dress, everybody! And here I thought I was gonna have to go looking for a bride.”

  The family laughed as Deni and the young man came off the field, and she was suddenly surrounded by smiling, friendly people—the older couple who owned the farm, their two married daughters, sons-in-law, and grandchildren, and Michael, the handsome young man who had come to relieve her of her load.

  She would be safe here, she thought as they invited her in. But as she started up the steps of the big house, she heard the sound of clomping hooves.

  Her heart sank as she saw Vic in his wagon, coming up the long driveway from a side road.

  fifty-five

  Frances Jones insisted that both Deni and Vic stay in their home for the night. Vic took her up on the offer right away, explaining that he and his “daughter” had had a little tiff out there on the road, and when they’d seen the house, Deni had huffed off. Frances seemed to understand the temper and mood of a young woman. She probably thought Deni was just a spoiled brat who didn’t respect her father.

  Before Deni could get away from Vic again, he took her aside. “You tell them one negative thing about me, little gal, and you’re gonna see some wrath like you’ve never seen. Don’t mess with me. You’re way out of your league.”

  She shivered at the thought of what he meant by that.

  Since the Joneses had a henhouse full of chickens, Frances cooked them a feast of scrambled eggs and gave them their fill of milk and water fresh from the well. As they ate, the family drilled them about the state of the world. Vic told them about Hank’s message from Washington and what they’d seen on their trip so far.

  As it began to get dark, the Joneses’ children left to return to their own homes, leaving only Frances and Jim with Deni and Vic. Frances led Deni up to her room and lit a kerosene lamp. She’d had Jim bring up a bowl of water so Deni could wash. “You look tired, honey. I hope you’ll be comfortable in this bed tonight.”

  Deni burst into tears. She sat down on it, careful not to get the dirt from her journey on the lavender bedspread. “You have no idea how comfortable I’ll be here. Last night I slept in a van with a smashed-out windows.”

  Frances picked up the wedding dress lying crumpled in its bag on a chair. “So you’re trying to get to the east for your wedding?”

  “I was. I’m not so sure anymore.”

  “Why not? Your dad made it sound like you were desperate to see your fiancé.”

  Deni looked out into the hall, making sure Vic wasn’t nearby. “He’s not my dad.”

  Frances just looked at her in the yellow light, then quietly, she went to the door and closed it. She came to sit beside her on the bed. “If he’s not your dad, why did he say he was?”

  “Because he’s trying to seem presentable. Less threatening.”

  “Who is he, then?”

  “He’s a man who lived in my neighborhood in Crockett. He offered to take me east, and I was such a fool, I took him up on it. I didn’t know that he deals in pornography.”

  Frances gasped. “Oh, my.”

  “His wagon is full of it. He owns a chain of sleazy stores. I have to get away from him.” Tears rolled down her face, and she wiped them away. She looked down at her fingers and saw the dirt that had come off of her face. She must look awful.

  Frances put her arm around her and pulled her close. “Well, honey, what can we do to help you get home?”

  She swallowed and tried to think. “If you had a bicycle I could ride, then I could get away from him. And he wouldn’t be able to catch up to me.”

  “Catch up to you? Why wouldn’t he just let you go?”

  “I don’t know. I think he’s afraid I’ll go home and tell everyone what he really is. I thought I was rid of him when I got off the wagon. But now he’s here.”

  A deep frown cut through Frances’s forehead as she went to the window and looked out. Deni came to stand beside her. She saw Vic down at the wagon, talking to Jim, who seemed to be admiring his ingenuity in building it.

  “What should we do?” Frances asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you think he’s dangerous?”

  “He has a gun. He seems dangerous to me. I don’t want to be alone with him one more minute. But he’s probably harmless as far as you guys are concerned.” She looked at the woman. A thick vein ran from Frances’ hairline to her eyebrows. “I’m so sorry I brought this on you. I thought he’d let me go, and that would be the end of it.”

  “I’ll talk to Jim and see what he thinks we should do. Meanwhile, you can lock this door to make sure he stays away. Just relax and don’t worry about a thing. My Jim will ask him to leave.”

  Alarm ran
through Deni. “Please, don’t make him mad. I don’t know what he’ll do.”

  “My Jim is a godly man with a lot of wisdom,” she said. “He’ll know how to handle it. As for you, we have three ten-speeds back in the barn. I’ll give you one to get home.”

  Deni felt like she’d won the lottery. “Thank you. I knew you could help me.”

  Frances smiled and pushed Deni’s hair back over her shoulder. The gesture made her long for her mother. “Just doing what I would want someone to do for my daughter if she was in your shoes. Consider it God’s provision.”

  More tears rushed to Deni’s eyes. “You remind me of my parents. They’re good Christian people. They’d do the same thing. I miss them. They must be so upset.”

  “Then get home as fast as you can, sweetheart. Get a good night’s sleep, so you can get a fresh start in the morning. Maybe you’ll make it home by nightfall. Jim and I will be praying for you.”

  Deni felt better as Frances stepped out into the hall, and she locked the door. She closed the curtains over the open window, undressed, and began to wash herself. Then, pulling on a clean pair of jogging shorts and a T-shirt, she slipped into bed, listening for the sound of the wagon pulling away.

  Tomorrow she would be rid of him. And with the bicycle, she would get home.

  Her gaze drifted to that wedding dress. She got up and unzipped the bag. The dress was unsoiled and still intact. She pulled out the veil, and put it over her dirty hair.

  She’d had such hopes for her wedding day.

  Tears returned to her eyes as she looked down at that ring Craig had given her. It was beautiful. He’d picked out exactly what she wanted. He’d had genuine joy in his eyes as she’d accepted it.

  So what if he’d gone back to work that night? Didn’t she want someone with such a bright future? Wasn’t she going to be just as ambitious when she started her job?

  After all, she was an independent woman. She didn’t need a man’s undivided attention.

  And so what if he hadn’t come for her? Didn’t the highways work both ways? If he’d had to stay to help the government solve these monumental problems, she couldn’t fault him for that.

  Yes, she’d told Frances she would go home. And she’d meant it . . . then. But what if she could make it to Craig?

  She thought of the joy she would see on Craig’s face as she ran into his arms. He would lift her up and swing her around, and there would never be any doubt in his mind that she was the woman he needed to spend his life with. He liked her spunk, her independence, her courage—and he’d be proud of her for making it all the way.

  Happy with her new plan, she drifted into sleep with that veil on her head, and dreamed about their sweet reunion.

  fifty-six

  Kay’s prayers had never been more intense—or more desperate. She lay facedown on her bed, her sheets wet from her tears, and begged God to bring Deni and Doug home. Doug had left almost twenty-four hours ago, and she hadn’t heard from him since.

  Where were they?

  Lord, please protect both of them!

  She’d expected him to be gone a few hours. But that had stretched into the day, and soon it would be nightfall again. What could that mean? Possible scenarios drifted through her mind. He hadn’t found Deni yet. Or he’d met with foul play of his own. Or he’d found her dead . . .

  That murderer who had her daughter might have killed them both. When would she know? How would anyone get word to her?

  Panic rippled through her as she prayed, begging God to intervene. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday, and couldn’t remember if she’d fed the kids lunch or not. They hadn’t asked about dinner, so she assumed they’d found something to eat.

  If she could only talk to her parents, ask them to come and help her, have a few minutes of their wisdom. It had been a month since they’d spoken. Her mother would know exactly what to say. Just the sound of her voice would give Kay peace.

  But that wasn’t going to happen.

  She’d have to handle it all herself. Somehow, she had to pull herself together enough to do what had to be done.

  “Mom?”

  Wiping her face, she looked up at Jeff, standing in the doorway of her bedroom. His shotgun had become like an extra appendage. She hadn’t seen him without it since Doug left. “Yeah, honey, what is it?”

  “Miss Eloise is here. Do you feel like talking to her?”

  Kay forced herself to get up. She wiped her face and finger-brushed her hair. “Yeah, tell her I’m coming.”

  There had been a constant stream of visitors today, some trying to comfort her, others just getting information. Rumors about Vic Green had spread through the community like wildfire. She’d finally asked the kids to tell anyone else who came that she was sleeping.

  But Eloise was different.

  The frail woman was sitting on the couch when Kay came out of her room. Kay sat down next to her and they hugged. Eloise’s arms felt like her own mother’s, secure and confident.

  “Still no word, huh?”

  Kay shook her head. “Absolutely none.”

  “I’ve been praying, honey. You know God’s in control. From where He sits, He knows exactly where Deni and Doug are. He has them in the palm of His hand. He has a host of angels at His disposal to surround and protect them. You believe that, don’t you?”

  In theory, she did. God was sovereign, and she knew that. He had promised never to leave or forsake them. But Deni was rebellious. Had she stepped out of God’s protection when she launched out on her own? “I do believe it, but sometimes there are circumstances that cause God to take His hand away. And sometimes He allows disaster to come into our lives to do things in us. He did that with the outage. What if He’s doing that with my child? What if He’s going to take her? What if He’s going to take Doug?”

  Eloise patted her knee. “Those aren’t the right questions, Kay. The question is, do you trust Him? Whatever the case, whatever He has planned for you or your husband or children . . . Do you trust Him to do the right thing?”

  Kay didn’t want that to be the question, because she didn’t know how to answer it. She regarded her neighbor through the blur of her tears. Eloise looked smaller, more sickly, than she had a month ago. Her cancer was taking its toll on her. “You’ve had to ask yourself that question, haven’t you?”

  The wrinkles on Eloise’s face deepened. “I sure have, darlin’. Had to search deep in myself for the answer. But I realized I do trust Him. Whether He has healing in mind for me, or taking me home, I trust Him to do the right thing.”

  Kay wished she had that kind of faith. She breathed a laugh. “You may have noticed I’m not that good with suffering.”

  Eloise patted her hand. “Don’t worry about it. It’s a learned skill.”

  Kay pulled her feet up onto the couch, hugged her knees. “You make it look easy.”

  “Well, it is, if you trust Him.” Eloise’s hands trembled as she clasped them. It was clear she was waning. The cancer was winning the battle with her body. So why did Eloise still seem like the victor? “Funny, isn’t it, that our problems are relative? Now you see why this outage hasn’t shaken me like it has so many others.”

  Kay thought she understood. “You have much bigger problems.”

  “Oh, it’s not that, dear. Not at all. I’ve been able to take it in stride because I started letting go of the things of this world months ago, when I first learned of my cancer. If God wants to take my technology, then so be it. If He wants to take my life, it’s His.”

  Kay tried to absorb some of that faith, but she wasn’t ready to let Deni go. And she didn’t want to be a widow.

  Eloise leaned forward and touched Kay’s chin with her trembling hand. Kay looked into her wise eyes. “Darlin’, I’m not telling you to get over it, or to stop praying your loved ones home. I’m not even telling you to stop worrying. You can’t do that, no matter how hard you try, and God knows.”

  “Then what are you telling me?”

&nbs
p; “I’m telling you to turn your focus from Vic Green’s evil to Christ’s love. Focus on His power.”

  The beginnings of peace crept into Kay’s spirit. “I can do that.”

  “Of course you can. You’re one of His children, aren’t you? And so are your loved ones.”

  Tears rolled down Kay’s cheeks, and Eloise wiped them away.

  A knock on the back door startled them, and Kay looked through the french doors and saw Brad and Judith Caldwell. Brad held something in his hands.