Jailbird (2 page)

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Authors: Heather Huffman

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BOOK: Jailbird
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For someone who hasn’t noticed a man in more
than ten years, to have your heart trip a funny little beat at the
sight of one is a monumental event.

“Who is that?” I tried to be nonchalant as I
nodded in the direction of an average-looking man who was crossing
the street in our direction. He seemed completely at ease as he
ambled down the street, whistling off-key and nodding politely to
passersby.

“Who? Charlie?”Anjelita followed the
direction of my gaze. “He’s the town lawyer. In a town this size,
he doesn’t get to do much besides fix tickets and write contracts.
And divorces. There’s always divorces.”

“Daddy!” The little blonde lit up at
Charlie’s approach, flying into his arms once he’d crossed the
street. “Daddy, the new Torres lady was asking about you. Come meet
her. She’s super pretty.”

“She is very pretty Cara, but it’s not polite
to talk about people,” Charlie glanced up at me and seemed to pause
if for even a moment. I couldn’t be sure; I was too busy wishing
the earth would swallow me up.

“Come on, Mr. Charlie, don’t be so shy. Come
meet Neena,” Isabel joined her friend Cara to tug on his hand.

Anjelita closed her eyes and shook her head,
apparently deciding a reproach right now would only make the matter
worse. Her husband Manuel didn’t bother hiding his chuckle.

“Hello,” the man extended his hand with a
friendly smile. “I’m Charlie Russell. Sorry about the girls
here.”

“Oh, don’t apologize. I didn’t mean to cause
such a commotion,” I wanted to avoid his eyes, but something about
them drew me in. When they caught me, I lost the presence of mind
to reclaim my hand.

“Did I hear the girls say your name is
Neena?” Kindness rolled off of him. He seemed to be doing his best
to help me along despite his own embarrassment.

“Yes,” I nodded a little dumbly. “Apparently
Neena Torres.”

“Well, Neena Torres,” he seemed to be sizing
me up in his brief pause. “Welcome to Hampton. We’re happy to meet
you.”

“Are you coming for dinner tonight?” Anjelita
saved me from having to form a coherent response.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Charlie promised, his
eyes finally breaking contact with mine. My hand felt strangely
bereft at the absence of his touch. “Come on Cara; let’s not block
the paying customers any longer.”

I watched him hold his hand out to the little
girl; a look of adoration was evident on both of their faces. He
cast another glance at me, offering a small wave and a smile. I
waved back and then hurried to find something to do besides stare
after him.

“I’ll never understand some women,” Anjelita
came up beside me, shaking her head and watching the pair
leave.

I looked at her, the question I didn’t dare
speak plain as day in my eyes.

“His wife took off on them when Cara was
about a year old. Went to Nashville to be a singer. Wound up a
waitress addicted to meth. Well, that’s what Sheriff Taylor’s
daughter said anyways….”

“That’s awful,” my heart broke for the little
girl. I couldn’t imagine a mother leaving her baby like that. All
of the smiles and kisses and lullabies the poor thing had
missed.

“The two of them do okay,” Anjelita smiled
fondly. “I’ve never seen a pair crazier about each other.”

It made me think of my own daddy and a sad
smile tugged at my mouth. I was glad my parents weren’t around
anymore to see what a mess I’d made of things. When they’d died, I
was still well on my way to a promising career as a large animal
vet. I didn’t want to think about whether or not they could see me
now.

“Little girls do love their daddies,” I
mused, grabbing another crate of tomatoes to replace the ones
already sold. I looked for something else to keep my hands busy,
but it was obvious this family was used to their routine and didn’t
really need me here.

“You know, you can go grab a soda and a bite
to eat if you’d like,” Manny noticed my agitation at being out of
work.

“Actually, I think I’ll go see if Mamá Torres
needs anything,” I shook my head, unwilling to admit I was flat
broke again.

“That’s a long walk,” Manuel seemed
skeptical.

“I’m used to long walks. I don’t mind,” I
grinned to myself. That was an understatement.

After so many years of being told where to be
and when, it was odd and exhilarating to be able to wander down a
dusty road daydreaming about a man with hazel eyes and a kind
smile. There was a solid, gentle way about Charlie Russell that
told me he would never hurt another person. Maybe that’s why I was
so drawn to him.

I drew in a deep breath and stopped to admire
a marshmallow cloud that drifted across a bright blue sky. One
thing I knew for sure—I needed to spend my time thinking about my
next step, not some man I could never have.

With that resolved, I began humming an old
hymn my mama used to sing as I started walking again. My bag swung
merrily at my side and my thoughts drifted to Mary O’Donnell, my
old cell mate. Her luck was as dumb as mine, but she was a good
person. We’d stuck together and because of that, managed to stay
pretty safe. I hoped my escape hadn’t caused any problems for
her.

I could hear the distant rumble of a car
coming my way and instinctively stepped into the grass to wait for
it to pass. Instead of roaring by, it slowed to a stop beside me.
Panic rose in my throat until I realized it was Charlie looking at
me with an expectant grin.

“Want a ride?” He leaned over and opened the
door.

“I don’t want to trouble you,” I shook my
head and stepped back. No matter how gentle Charlie seemed, it
didn’t stop a knot of fear from twisting in my stomach.

“Oh please, Miss Neena?” Cara pleaded from
the back seat.

“The Torres place is on the way,” he
argued.

“Okay then. Thank you,” I caved, sliding
nervously into the seat. I knew I must look like a scared cat as I
practically clung to the door, but I couldn’t seem to make myself
sit in the center of the seat.

“It’s an awful hot day for such a long hike,”
he mused.

“Oh, I don’t know. I find walking to be very
liberating,” I smiled a little to myself.

“That’s an interesting way of looking at
it.”

“It frees my mind of all the clutter,” I
amended.

“So are you staying with the Torres family
for long?”

“I hadn’t really decided.”

“Please do,” Cara joined in.

“We’ll see. I wouldn’t want to wear out my
welcome,” I turned to give her a little smile. “Everyone has been
so kind.”

“What brings you this way?” Charlie moved the
conversation along.

“Change of scenery,” I hedged then quickly
pointed the conversation in a different direction. “So where are
the two of you headed on this pretty day?”

“A nature walk,” Cara rushed to inform
me.

“That sounds fun. You know, Cara, maybe you
could help me with something. I was hoping to go fishing today. I
thought maybe I could catch our supper. Do you know of any good
fishing holes around here?”

“I’ve never been fishing,” her smooth brow
puckered and she glared at her father. I’d apparently stumbled on a
bone of contention. I turned my gaze to Charlie as well.

“Really?”

“I just never got around to it,” he seemed to
squirm in his seat.

His excuse was met with silence. Cara folded
her arms and glared at him. I folded my arms and regarded him
expectantly.

“I suppose I could take you guys down to the
river,” he sighed in resignation and looked at me. “Do you have
gear?”

“Give me ten minutes in Manny’s shed and I
can make us some gear,” I promised.

“How can I argue with that?” He grinned at me
and shook his head. Cara bounced with excitement and I pondered the
180 my life had taken in such a short time.

After we pulled down the long driveway
leading to the Torres place, Charlie put the car in park and I
instantly hopped out as if the seat were on fire. Some things are
just too deeply imprinted in my brain, I guess.

“Let me find Mamá Torres to see if she needs
anything before we take off again,” I went for the door.

“I can do that. You work your magic in the
shed,” he waved me off. “Cara will want to try to swipe some candy
anyway.”

“It’s not stealing if she offers it to me,
Daddy,” Cara made a face at her father.

I wasn’t entirely sure I could take an
afternoon of their loving interchanges. It made me wish for a time
machine. I wanted to be that six-year-old little girl again, sure
of the world and safely ensconced in the protective arms of her
daddy. Back before I knew people like Todd Winslow and the Chicas
even existed.

Before either of my companions could see the
expression on my face, I hurried to Manny’s tool shed. Thanks to
the tour I’d been given by Anjelita, I knew right where he kept his
fishing line and quickly cut myself a few lengths. I put a few
sinkers and hooks in a small bag and pocketed those as well. When I
dropped my shopping bag off inside the small house, I was greeted
by Mamá Torres bearing brownies.

“You are too thin, child,” she admonished as
she handed me the desserts. I accepted the gift and the hug that
went with it, still a little wary of the human contact and unsure
what do with the affection this family was pouring out on me.

“If I can catch enough fish, I’ll make my
special fish fry for dinner and see if I can fatten us all up,” I
promised.

“Don’t let me keep you, then,” she smiled at
me and then Charlie. “You kids have fun.”

“Gracias, Mamá,” Charlie kissed her cheek
even as Cara darted back out the door.

“Tell Manny I owe him four lengths of fishing
line,” I remembered. “And some hooks and sinkers.”

“You just bring back dinner and we’ll call it
even,” she shooed me out the door.

“Do you need me to stay and clean?” I was
suddenly nervous about the pending expedition.

“Go.”

It was hard to argue with a woman like Mamá
Torres when she was so firmly set on something. She probably had
misguided visions of me and Charlie falling madly in love, although
that was totally ridiculous. If she knew who I really was, she’d be
chasing me from her house with a broom. That knowledge shamed me
into a brooding silence for most of the ride. I was only vaguely
aware of the lush greenery passing my window as the car traveled
deeper into the woods.

I couldn’t be sure, but it seemed Charlie
wanted to ask me something. He didn’t, though. Other than the
occasional sideways glance, he kept his focus centered on Cara and
their conversation about the types of trees that surrounded
them.

He parked the car on the shoulder of the road
and helped Cara out. The two waited expectantly for me at a nearby
trailhead while I sat rooted to my spot, trying to convince myself
to get out of the car. I hadn’t thought about the possibility of
his fishing hole being deep in the woods.

Panic clawed at my throat as I watched him
kneel to tell Cara something, then walk carefully back to the car.
He approached me as if I were a wild animal who’d been cornered.
Maybe that was really smart of him.

I reluctantly let go of the death-grip I had
on the door when he opened it for me. I stared fiercely at the
ground, willing myself to just get out of the car. He had his
daughter with him. He was a gentle man. He wouldn’t hurt me.
Just get out of the car
, I mentally ordered my feet.

“Are you okay?” he knelt beside me.

I nodded, meeting his eyes at last. I
expected to see confusion or maybe impatience for my strange
behavior. Instead, his steady gaze seemed to assure me that he and
his daughter would wait as long as needed. His patience stood in
stark contrast to the cajoling I’d received the last time I balked
at a walk in the woods.

He held his hand out and I found myself
placing my hand in his. His grip was warm and firm and calming and
it got me out of that car. Cara eyed me curiously as we approached
and I felt a little silly for my hesitation. I crossed my eyes and
stuck out my tongue. She giggled and the uncomfortable moment
passed. I didn’t even mind that Charlie still held my hand in his.
In fact, I kind of liked it.

 

 

 

Chapter Three

 

Ten years ago, the woods had brought me
terror. Forty-five days ago, freedom. Today, they brought me
peace.

“Find me branch about yeah big,” I held my
hand out flat in front of me to demonstrate. “Make sure it’s still
green and the straightest one you see.”

“Right,” Cara scurried off with Charlie in
tow to do as told. I grabbed a couple of sticks at my feet and
began constructing our stringer. I’d just about finished my own
fishing pole when Charlie and Cara returned triumphant.

“No fair,” Charlie’s proud smile faded when I
set my finished pole to the side. “How’d you find yours so
fast?”

“Practice. Lots and lots of practice.”

“Make mine first,” Cara shoved her stick at
me.

“This is a fine-looking branch,” I praised.
“Now hold it steady like this and we’ll get it fixed up.”

I used my small pocket knife to cut a notch
in the tip of the branch. A few deft maneuvers and the line was
attached. A few more and the sinker and hook were as well.

“I think I might have left my manhood back at
the car,” Charlie’s expression was a little incredulous.

“I wouldn’t expect a paleface to know how to
rig a good fishing line,” I winked with a smile. That wasn’t
entirely true. My French-Creole grandpapa was the one who’d taught
me to fish.

“So I take that to mean you’re not really a
Torres?” Charlie accepted the pole I handed him.

“No, I’m not a Torres,” I couldn’t help
smiling a little at that. “But they’ve certainly welcomed me as if
I were.”

“Are we ready to fish?” Cara’s hook dangled
precariously close to her father’s arm.

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