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This Heart of Mine
Brenda Novak


www.BrendaNovak.comFirst love. Second chance? As the daughter of a hoarder, Phoenix Fuller had a tough childhood. So when the handsome, popular Riley Stinson became her boyfriend in high school, she finally felt as though she had something to be proud of. Phoenix was desperate not to lose him–especially once she found out she was pregnant. Yes, she might have acted a bit obsessive when he broke up with her. But she did not run down the girl he started dating next.Unfortunately, there was no way to prove her innocence. Now, after serving her time in prison, Phoenix has been released. All she wants to do is return to Whiskey Creek and get to know her son. But Jacob's father isn't exactly welcoming.Riley doesn't trust Phoenix, doesn't want her in Jacob's life. He is, however, ready to find someone to love. And he wants a good mother for his son. He has no idea that he's about to find both!







First love. Second chance?

As the daughter of a hoarder, Phoenix Fuller had a tough childhood. So when the handsome, popular Riley Stinson became her boyfriend in high school, she finally felt as though she had something to be proud of. Phoenix was desperate not to lose him—especially once she found out she was pregnant. Yes, she might have acted a bit obsessive when he broke up with her. But she did not run down the girl he started dating next.

Unfortunately, there was no way to prove her innocence. Now, after serving her time in prison, Phoenix has been released. All she wants to do is return to Whiskey Creek and get to know her son. But Jacob’s father isn’t exactly welcoming.

Riley doesn’t trust Phoenix, doesn’t want her in Jacob’s life. He is, however, ready to find someone to love. And he wants a good mother for his son. He has no idea that he’s about to find both!


Praise for the Whiskey Creek novels of New York Times bestselling author Brenda Novak (#u3f1bd6f2-40ca-57d1-b107-c4ae0062610c)

“Novak is always a go-to author for sassy romance set in small towns loaded with charm. Her latest in the Whiskey Creek series is naughty and nice, and readers will fall in love with the magic of the season.”

—RT Book Reviews on The Heart of Christmas, Top Pick

“If you haven’t started reading the Whiskey Creek series, get going! Novak’s…gift for writing about passion never ceases to amaze, and fans of romance will be hooked with just one visit to Whiskey Creek.”

—RT Book Reviews on Come Home to Me, Top Pick

“Once again Novak’s Whiskey Creek springs to life in all its realistic, gritty Gold Country glory.… This poignant, heartfelt romance puts a refreshing spin on the classic reunion/secret baby theme.”

—Library Journal on Come Home to Me

“[Brenda Novak] weaves a tight story of human weakness and longing, with cross threads of passion and hope. One needn’t wonder why Novak is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author.”

—Examiner.com on Come Home to Me

“The worst part of any Brenda Novak book is the last page. I always want more… The Whiskey Creek series is an absolute delight and this newest installment is…so satisfying I ran out of superlatives. Brenda Novak outdid herself.”

—Fresh Fiction on Take Me Home for Christmas

“[Home to Whiskey Creek is an] engrossing, character-rich story that takes a hard look at responsibility, loyalty and the results of telling (or concealing) the truth.”

—Library Journal

“It’s steamy, it’s poignant, it’s perfectly paced—it’s When Lightning Strikes and you don’t want to miss it.”

—Happy Ever After on USATODAY.com


This Heart of Mine

Brenda Novak






www.mirabooks.co.uk (http://www.mirabooks.co.uk)


To my children.

The love I feel for you made this story what it is.


Dear Reader (#u3f1bd6f2-40ca-57d1-b107-c4ae0062610c),

I’ve now written more than fifty books, so when I get the question “Which book is your favorite?” it’s even more difficult to answer than it was before. I like different books for different reasons. The Stillwater Trilogy will always be among my favorites (Dead Silence, Dead Giveaway and Dead Right). So will A Home of Her Own from the Dundee series and Inside from the Bulletproof trilogy. Some stories are just easier to write. Or certain characters are more accessible to me, which creates a stronger bond. This novel is one of those standout stories that poured right onto the page (how I wish they could all do that!). I think it’s because, as a mother of five, I can so easily relate to Phoenix in her desire to have the chance to show her teenage son the love she feels for him.

Those of you who’ve read my books before probably know that I often focus on redemption themes. After what Phoenix has been through, she deserves the best of happily-ever-afters, and I thoroughly enjoyed giving her one.

I love to hear from my readers. Please feel free to contact me online at brendanovak.com (http://brendanovak.com), or by snail mail at PO Box 3781, Citrus Heights, CA 95611. If you sign up for my mailing list, I’ll be able to alert you to special sales and giveaways and send a reminder whenever I have a new book out. You can also find me on Facebook (BrendaNovakAuthor (https://www.facebook.com/BrendaNovakAuthor)) and Twitter (@Brenda_Novak (https://twitter.com/brenda_novak)).

Here’s hoping you enjoy watching Phoenix and Riley rediscover each other!

Brenda


WHISKEY CREEK Cast of Characters (#u3f1bd6f2-40ca-57d1-b107-c4ae0062610c)

Phoenix Fuller: Recently released from prison. Mother of Jacob Stinson, who is being raised by his father, Riley.

Riley Stinson: Contractor, father of Jacob.

Gail DeMarco: Owns a public relations firm in Los Angeles. Married to movie star Simon O’Neal.

Ted Dixon: Bestselling thriller writer, married to Sophia DeBussi.

Eve Harmon: Manages Little Mary’s B & B, which is owned by her family. Recently married to Lincoln McCormick, a newcomer.

Kyle Houseman: Owns a solar panel business. Formerly married to Noelle Arnold. Best friend of Riley Stinson.

Baxter North: Stockbroker in San Francisco.

Noah Rackham: Professional cyclist. Owns Crank It Up bike shop. Married to Adelaide Davies, chef and manager of Just Like Mom’s restaurant, owned by her grandmother.

Callie Vanetta: Photographer. Married to Levi McCloud/Pendleton, veteran of Afghanistan.

Olivia Arnold: Kyle Houseman’s true love but married to Brandon Lucero, Kyle’s stepbrother.

Dylan Amos: Owns an auto-body shop with his brothers. Married to Cheyenne Christensen, and they have a baby boy.


Contents

Cover (#u205c7e46-20a6-52fb-9885-10de4d044c10)

Back Cover Text (#u50c2c22c-01b3-5145-ae4e-589ae6325f3e)

Praise

Title Page (#ub4560bc7-b143-564c-abe2-d2ea3add53de)

Dedication (#u9777e7a3-350a-5cef-9e60-1568fcb742be)

Dear Reader

Cast of Characters

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It was the first time she’d seen her son since the day she gave birth to him. Phoenix Fuller had spent an eternity waiting for this moment. She’d counted every single breath, it seemed, for sixteen years, waiting to lay eyes on Jacob again.

But as anxious as she was, she’d promised herself she wouldn’t cry, or try to hug him, or do anything else that might make a teenage boy feel uncomfortable. She was a stranger to him. Although she hoped to change that now that she was back in town, she couldn’t come on too strong or he’d likely shut her out—even if his father didn’t make sure he kept her at arm’s length. She had to be an embarrassment to both of them. They were all from the same small town; it wasn’t as if they could hide the fact that she’d spent Jacob’s entire life in prison.

Her heart leaped into her throat as she watched Jacob and his father, Riley Stinson, get out of a large Ford pickup and stride toward the entrance of the restaurant.

God, her son was tall, she thought, hungrily devouring the sight of him. How he’d gotten so big, she had no idea. She barely topped five feet. Even at thirty-five, she could be mistaken for a much younger person when she wasn’t wearing makeup and had her hair pulled back. But Jacob took after his father in size and shape, had the same broad shoulders, narrow hips and long legs.

“Excuse me. Your table’s ready whenever you are.”

Phoenix wouldn’t have heard the hostess if the woman hadn’t touched her arm when she spoke.

It required real effort, but she dragged her gaze away from the window in order to respond. “Thank you. The rest of my party will be here in a second.”

“That’s fine. Just let me know when you’re ready.” With a polite smile, the young woman seated a couple standing nearby.

Once again, Phoenix’s eyes were riveted on her son. Only this time, she felt such a surge of emotion she almost darted into the bathroom. She could not break down.

Please, God, don’t let me cry. He won’t come within ten feet of me if I do.

But the harder she tried to hold back her tears, the more overwhelmed she became. In a panic, she slipped around the corner, into the small alcove by the bathrooms, and leaned her head against the wall.

Breathe. Don’t blow this.

The bell over the door jingled, telling her that Riley and Jacob had stepped inside. She imagined them looking around, maybe getting annoyed when they didn’t find her. But she was frozen in place. She absolutely could. Not. Move.

“Hey,” she heard the hostess say with a familiarity that hadn’t been present in her greeting to Phoenix. “We’re busy this morning, like we are every Saturday. But if you can wait for a few minutes, I’ll get you a table.”

“We’re actually meeting someone who should be here.”

That had to be Riley, but Phoenix couldn’t say she recognized his voice. Her memories of him were vivid. But they’d both been so young, and he’d changed a great deal. No longer the skinny teenager she’d known in high school, he was a man with plenty of hard muscle on his solid frame, a man in his prime, and that had been more than apparent as she’d watched him walk, shoulder to shoulder, with their son a few seconds earlier.

“Who are you here to meet?” the hostess asked.

“Name’s Phoenix Fuller,” came his response.

“What does she look like?”

“I’m not sure these days,” he said, and Phoenix winced. Her shoulder-length dark hair wasn’t bad. It was thick, probably her best asset. Her hazel eyes weren’t unattractive, either. She didn’t feel she was ugly. But the scars on her face would be new to him. She hadn’t had those when she went to prison.

“She wasn’t very tall,” he added, as if that might be the only detail still applicable.

“There was a woman who said she was expecting two more to join her,” the hostess said. “But I don’t know where she went...”

Determined not to miss this opportunity after waiting so long for it, Phoenix curved her fingernails into her palms, took a deep breath and stepped around the corner. “Sorry I...I had to wash my hands.”

The frown that appeared on Riley’s face brought heat to her cheeks. He wasn’t happy to be in her presence. No doubt he’d spent the past seventeen years hoping he’d never have to see her again, especially since her release date had been extended twice beyond her original sentence.

But she’d known this first meeting would be difficult. Squaring her shoulders, she ignored his disapproval and turned to Jacob. “Hello, I’m your mother.”

She’d practiced saying those words so many times and still almost choked up. Only by sheer will did she manage to retain control. “You can call me Phoenix, though, if that feels more natural to you. I don’t expect...” Her tongue seemed so thick and unwieldy, she could hardly speak. “I don’t expect you to do anything you don’t want to do, not when it comes to me.”

He seemed surprised she’d throw that out there right away, but she also thought she detected a slight lessening of the tension gripping his body. So she extended her hand. “It’s very nice to meet you. Thank you for coming. I hope this restaurant is okay. Just Like Mom’s was always a favorite of mine when I lived here so I hoped maybe...maybe it’d still be popular.”

Jacob glanced at his father before shaking her hand. “Hello,” he mumbled, but wouldn’t quite look her in the eye.

Telling herself that was normal, that a certain amount of reluctance was to be expected, she let go as soon as they touched. She didn’t want him to notice how badly she was trembling.

“Are you folks ready to sit down?” The hostess, who’d been distracted saying goodbye to some departing patrons, was now watching them with avid curiosity. She’d probably figured out that this was “the” Phoenix Fuller everyone had been talking about—the one who’d been convicted for running down a rival with her mother’s old Buick just before graduating from high school.

“Yes, please.” Supremely conscious of the two people trailing behind her, Phoenix followed the hostess across the restaurant to a corner booth.

Once they sat down, she leaned back as another woman came to bring them water.

“You can have anything you want,” she told Jacob as he opened the menu.

It was too soon to mention that. But she was nervous. And she’d worked so hard in the weeks before she was released to be able to provide this meal. She really wanted him to enjoy it.

“I like the Belgian waffle with the ice cream and strawberries.”

Grateful he’d chosen something rather celebratory and elaborate, she smiled. “Then you can have it.”

Belatedly, she realized that his father should have a say in the matter; it wasn’t a healthy meal and she held absolutely no power in Jacob’s life. So she appealed to Riley. “If that’s okay with your father.”

Once Riley had given his permission, she dropped her gaze. It was easier not to look at him. If she could’ve invited Jacob on his own, she would have. The emotions she felt where her son was concerned were poignant enough. Adding his father to the mix just complicated an already complicated situation.

“You can get whatever you’d like, too, of course,” she told Riley. “My treat.”

The second she got those words out, she felt her face burn even hotter. What a stupid thing to say! Riley was a successful building contractor. He didn’t need an ex-con to pay for his breakfast. And she knew that although she’d sent every dime she could spare to the support of her son, her contributions had been paltry compared to what he’d done for Jacob over the years. Riley probably found her offer to buy him breakfast laughable. But she’d meant to be generous. She was struggling so hard to get by that thirty dollars was a lot of money to her.

“The shrimp omelet’s good,” he said, and set his menu aside without really studying it.

The shrimp omelet and the Belgian waffle were the two most expensive meals on the menu, but Phoenix didn’t mind. She quickly calculated how much money she’d have left over and started looking for something under five dollars.

“I’m not very hungry,” she mused so they wouldn’t find it strange when she ordered light. “I think I’ll just have some toast and coffee.”

The minute she lowered her menu, she nearly raised it again to use as a shield. Both Riley and her son eyed her appraisingly, skeptically. Although she’d expected close scrutiny, it was still difficult to be examined like some kind of unusual—and not particularly welcome—bug. Not only that, but she was self-conscious about the scars on her face, didn’t want them to become a focal point.

“How long have you been home?” Riley asked, breaking a silence that was growing awkward.

She slid her menu to one side and folded her hands in her lap. “Three days.” She would have contacted him immediately, but it had taken some time to summon the nerve. He’d made it clear that he wished she’d settle anywhere but Whiskey Creek.

He clutched his water glass. “Who picked you up?”

She’d had to pay for a taxi, but she didn’t want to admit that. “An acquaintance who...who’s sort of a friend.”

That was nebulous, but he didn’t seem to question it. “I thought maybe your mother...”

“No. She can’t—doesn’t—drive these days.” At nearly six hundred pounds, she couldn’t fit inside a car. Her mother had been a recluse since Phoenix and Riley were dating. In addition to her weight, Lizzie had significant issues with hoarding and depression. She didn’t own a working car or have internet service. If not for the kindhearted guy from the Baptist church who’d brought groceries and performed the occasional vet run—for only ten dollars a week—while Phoenix was in prison, Lizzie might not have survived. It wasn’t as if Phoenix’s father cared about either one of them. Or her brothers, for that matter. He’d left shortly after Phoenix was born; no one even knew where he was these days. And her two older brothers, who’d been so devastated when he left, had washed their hands of Whiskey Creek and everything that went with it when she was still in school.

Riley had to be aware of Lizzie’s situation. So was he merely trying to reiterate the point he’d made in his last letter—that he believed Jacob would be better off without her involvement in his life? He’d mentioned her mother as a less-than-positive aspect of associating with her. Lizzie’s many problems were the reason Jacob hadn’t been allowed to visit his grandmother more than three or four times during his life, and of course her mother had never reached out. Although Lizzie often couched it as a gruff rejection, she felt too unworthy, especially when she came up against a well-established, well-respected family like the Stinsons.

Riley took another sip of his water. “How’s she doing?”

Phoenix refused to be drawn into a conversation about her mother. She wasn’t willing to address any subject that might make him less likely to let her see Jacob. “Fine.”

“Fine?” he repeated. “That’s it? I haven’t seen her around town in years.”

Jacob scowled at him. “You know what she’s like, Dad.”

Phoenix cleared her throat. “She’ll be better now that I’m home. I’ll see to it. And she won’t bother you or Jacob. I’ll make sure of that, too.”

“How can she bother us if she can’t leave the house?” Jacob asked, glaring at his father. “Has she bothered us so far?”

“I’ll handle this,” Riley said, but Phoenix felt the need to chime in. She couldn’t allow Riley to think Jacob was supporting her side of any argument. Riley held her heart in his hand because he controlled what she wanted most—a relationship with Jacob. So, first of all, she had to protect her relationship with him.

“Your father’s right. She can be...an embarrassment. I remember what it was like when...when I was in high school. But she’s, um, well, like you say, she doesn’t go anywhere, so I highly doubt she’ll be an issue.” Except for when he came to her place, but she’d figure out how to handle that if and when it happened.

Obviously annoyed that his father was being so protective, Jacob grumbled, “I’m not worried about it.”

She hoped that was true. He had enough to cope with just being her son. Not many other kids had to live with the stigma of having their mother labeled a murderer. “I hear you’re a talented baseball player,” she said, eager to change the subject.

This elicited a shy smile—one that revealed how very handsome and charismatic her son was. He looked even more like his father than she’d initially thought, with those amber-colored eyes and his nearly black hair.

“I like to play,” he said.

“It’s really something to be the starting varsity pitcher as a junior,” she told him. “Baseball’s a big deal around here.”

Riley’s mood seemed to improve as he gave his son’s shoulder a little shove. “Last week he almost pitched a no-hitter.”

Jacob lifted his eyebrows. “Almost but not quite.”

“The season’s young,” Riley responded.

Phoenix loved the pride in Riley’s voice. She felt that same pride. But right now, carrying on this conversation was a chore. For one thing, except for a few close friends she’d made in prison, she’d kept to herself. She didn’t consider herself particularly entertaining. For another, she just wanted to sit and stare, memorize all the details of her son’s face. The pictures she’d been sent had been far and few between and hadn’t done her boy justice. He’d had braces on in the last one, which had come in a Christmas card two years ago. Small effort though it required on Riley’s part, she was grateful to him for sending that. She still had both the card and the photo. They were among the scant belongings she’d brought home from prison.

“Do you have plans to play in college?” she asked.

“Definitely,” he replied. “I’ve got a few universities interested in me. Great ones, too. I’m hoping for a scholarship.”

He had so much going for him, so much to look forward to. She owed Riley for that. He’d done a great job with their son. “How exciting!” she said. “I’m sure you’ll get one.”

The waitress came to take their order, so Phoenix quickly added up what the tab would be, after they asked for orange juice with their meals. She didn’t want to embarrass herself when it came time to pay by running short. “Just coffee for me,” she said to be safe.

“That’s all you want?” Jacob asked.

“I don’t usually have much for breakfast.” Hungry though she was, she was too nervous to eat, anyway.

“No wonder you’re so small. Most of the girls in school are twice as big as you,” he said. “And some of them aren’t finished growing.”

“I might be small, but I’m strong,” she teased, flexing one arm.

“I heard. You got into a few fights in—”

“Let’s not start with that.” When Riley interrupted, her son flushed and fell silent.

“It’s okay, he can say what he wants,” she told Riley before answering Jacob. “I was forced to defend myself, but...I managed.” Sometimes better than others. It always depended on how many people jumped her at once.

“What happened?” Jacob asked.

During which incident? She supposed the one that had left the scar on her lip. She didn’t want to get into what life was like on the inside, but she also didn’t want him to feel there were subjects he had to avoid.

“The women in that prison could be...territorial,” she said. “There were times I had to fight or I’d be picked on for the rest of my stay, you know? I’m sure you’ve seen that type of behavior in school.” The fact that she was fighting for her life had given her little choice in the matter, but she didn’t want to make it sound quite so dire.

Jacob wrinkled his nose, clearly doubtful. “So you didn’t start the fight?”

“Would you start a fight if you were my size?” she asked with a laugh, hoping she could get him to smile.

He didn’t, but some of his doubt seemed to slip away. “No. I can’t even imagine how you defended yourself.”

“I told you.” She winked to cover a reservoir of much deeper feeling. “I’m stronger than I look.”

He studied her for a few seconds. “Is that what those scars are from?”

Phoenix’s tongue automatically sought the one on her lip. She’d gotten it just before she was due to be released two years ago—the cut and twenty stitches. The scar had come later. “Yeah.”

“From a fist?” he clarified.

“No, it was a razor blade.” She shifted in her seat, conscious that Riley couldn’t approve of her describing such a gruesome scene. But she wanted to satisfy Jacob’s curiosity so they could move on. She didn’t want him feeling she’d brushed his questions aside.

He frowned at her. “Must’ve hurt.”

It had, but the pain hadn’t been the worst of it. Those women, with the help of one guard who’d always had it in for her, had purposely set her up. She’d been blamed for starting the fight, which had added more than two years to her sentence. That had to be why Jacob was questioning her so carefully. He must’ve been told she was a troublemaker when she didn’t get out.

Although that day had been one of the darkest of her whole life, Phoenix shrugged so he wouldn’t have to know it. “Not too bad. Anyway, I’d like to see you pitch sometime, if you wouldn’t mind having me at a game.” She waved a hand before he could respond. “I’ll sit on the visitors’ side, so don’t worry about that.”

Confusion created lines in his forehead. “Why would you sit on the visitors’ side?”

Because she couldn’t imagine he’d want a mother who’d been in prison for murder showing up where people might recognize who she was and connect them. “I’d rather not cause a stir.”

She looked to Riley for confirmation. He’d used the stigma of her crime as one of the reasons Jacob would be better off without her, so she was hoping to reassure him that she wouldn’t make things difficult. But he didn’t comment one way or the other, didn’t say she couldn’t come as she feared he might. He covered his mouth for a few seconds, rubbed his jaw, then straightened his silverware. It was Jacob who insisted she could sit wherever she liked. But a polite boy would say that.

“Okay, just...just let me know when you have a game.” She figured if he never came forward with that information, she’d have her answer as to whether he preferred she stay away from him in public.

“How am I supposed to let you know?” he asked. “Do you have a home phone or a cell?”

She didn’t. She couldn’t afford either. She had far too many other necessities to buy first. “Not yet. But I have a laptop, and I learned that Black Gold Coffee has free Wi-Fi. I could set up a Facebook page, and you could message me that way—with your father’s permission.” He could also get hold of her through her mother, who lived in a separate trailer on the same property, but she hesitated to suggest that, given Riley’s disapproval of Lizzie.

“You have a laptop?” he asked.

“I do. It was a gift from one of the correctional officers when I was released. It’s an old one, but...it works.”

“So you’ll friend me? You know how to do that?”

She sipped more coffee. The caffeine was making her jittery on an empty stomach, but it helped to have something to do with her hands. “I took some computer classes when I was... I took some classes.”

“Oh.”

“What are your plans now that you’re home?” Riley asked. “Are you looking for a job or...?”

“Not quite yet,” she replied. “I have to finish cleaning out the trailer where I’m living before I do anything else.” She almost expounded on how bad it was, how unsanitary. Her mother’s hoarding was worse than ever. But she caught herself. If her primary goal was to provide a room for Jacob that Riley would deem safe—in case her son ever agreed to stay with her for a night or two—it wouldn’t be wise to regale his father with the gritty details. When she’d first begun cleaning it up, the trailer hadn’t been fit for pigs. Although it was a lot better now, it would be spotless by the time she was done.

“Where will you apply after that?”

“Anywhere there’s an opening.” Riley had also pointed out how difficult it would be for her to make a living in Whiskey Creek, a town of only two thousand. The school had allowed her to graduate in spite of the fact that she’d missed the last three weeks of her senior year, but a high school diploma wouldn’t do much to offset her criminal record. She hadn’t mentioned the business she’d started while she was still incarcerated. She had no idea if it would succeed. But she’d established a small income making leather bracelets for men and boys. The woman who’d given her the laptop, Cara Brentwell, had been putting the bracelets up on Etsy.com and eBay for the past three years. That was where, most recently, she’d gotten the bulk of the money she’d been sending to Jacob. She and Cara had split the profits but, as a free woman, she no longer needed Cara’s help.

“I, um, have a small gift for you,” she told Jacob. “Don’t get excited, it’s nothing big. You don’t even have to wear it if you don’t like it. I just wanted to see if...you know, maybe you’d think it was cool.”

She reached into her bag and pulled out the leather pouch she’d put the bracelet in instead of wrapping it. Somehow that seemed more masculine than paper and bow.

“Thanks,” he said as he accepted it.

She didn’t say that she’d made it. She didn’t want to give him or anyone else any reason not to like it. “If you’d rather open it later,” she began, but he had his hand inside and took it out before she could finish.

“What is it?” Riley asked.

“A bracelet,” Jacob piped up, and the pleasant tone of his voice was slightly reassuring. He didn’t sound as if he hated it.

“So you’ve seen them before?” she said, trying to gauge whether he was just trying to salvage her feelings.

“Yeah, but none quite like this.” He turned it over in his man-size hands. Fortunately, the braided leather she’d embellished with a piece of petrified wood that was carved in the shape of a bird—a play on her name that she wasn’t sure he’d understand—fastened with a tie so it couldn’t be too small. “It’s awesome. Where’d you get it?”

The waitress arrived with their food, and Phoenix pretended she hadn’t heard the question. Jacob became so distracted putting on the bracelet, and then eating, that he didn’t pursue an answer.

From there the conversation became a bit stilted. Phoenix asked about his grades, expressed pride that he was doing so well and encouraged him to continue. Then she asked if he had a girlfriend. He said he didn’t, that he was interested in a few different girls, but mostly just as friends, and then the conversation lagged again. It would’ve been more natural to talk to Riley, too, but Phoenix was careful not to direct a single question to him. She didn’t want him to worry that she might still have feelings for him. Sometimes their brief relationship played out in her mind, usually late at night. Those memories were some of the best she had. But she told herself they continued to matter simply because she hadn’t shared the same kind of intimacy with any other person. She’d been barely eighteen when she went to prison and, although she’d been approached by various male guards over the years, which some of her fellow inmates resented, she’d never even kissed anyone besides Riley. One guard sent her a few letters after he quit his job at the prison, but she never responded. He lived in the Bay Area, and she’d planned to return to Whiskey Creek; she’d realized all along that she’d have a very brief period to get to know her son before he reached adulthood. She didn’t want to waste time on a man, especially considering how fickle and unreliable they could be, judging by the speed with which Riley had fallen in and out of love with her.

Even without being addressed, Riley added a comment here and there to support what Jacob said. Whenever that happened, Phoenix would turn a polite smile on him to acknowledge his remark. But she kept her attention on her son, which worked fine—until the check came. Then she had to engage Riley because he tried to pluck it off the corner of the table.

Thankfully, she managed to grab it before he could. She wouldn’t allow him to buy her a meal, to buy her anything. This was a matter of pride, what little pride she could salvage, anyway. She’d extended the invitation; she’d pay the tab. Anything else might make him believe she was out to get something from him when, other than his blessing for her to see Jacob, she definitely wasn’t.

“I don’t mind,” he said, as if he wasn’t sure whether to insist while she counted out her money.

Even with the tip, she had enough—thank God. “It’s my treat, but I appreciate the offer,” she said firmly.

Leaving the money on the table, she slid out of the booth.

“Breakfast was good,” Jacob said.

A jolt of hope and happiness shot through her that he seemed to have enjoyed himself. The path ahead of them would not be smooth, but she’d survived her first breakfast with Jacob and didn’t feel she was about to fall apart. It probably helped that she’d had a lot of practice with disappointment. She hoped the next encounter would be easier, and the next even easier and so forth. She had to start somewhere.

“It was my pleasure,” she told him.

Although she tried to lag behind, they waited for her to precede them. She didn’t own a car, which meant she’d be walking five miles to the barren spot of land her mother had inherited from her own parents. Lizzie had two old trailers on that property—the one she’d filled so full of junk she could no longer live in it, which was now Phoenix’s home, and the one she occupied herself, with her five dogs, two hamsters and a parrot.

Once they got outside, she stepped out of the way so they could move past her and into the parking lot. “Thank you for meeting me.”

Riley squinted against the bright spring sunshine and gazed around, as if he expected someone to be there to pick her up. “How are you getting home?”

She didn’t answer that question directly for fear he’d take it as a hint that she wanted a ride. “Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ve got it covered.”

“You’ve got what covered?”

“Aren’t we talking about a way home?”

“Someone’s coming to pick you up, then? When will they be here? Do you need to use my phone?”

Now that he’d pinned her down, she had to tell the truth. She couldn’t use the cell he offered. She had no one to call. “There’s no need to bother anyone. It’s such a nice day I’m happy to walk.”

He glanced down at her strappy sandals. “You can make it that far in those?”

“I made it here,” she said. “They’re very comfortable.” Whether that was true or not wasn’t important. They were all she owned.

He didn’t seem convinced, but when she waved and turned to go, he started toward his truck. Jacob was the one who called her back.

“Mom?”

Phoenix’s heart hit her chest with one giant thud. He hadn’t addressed her as anything yet, let alone Mom. She hadn’t expected to hear him say that, not right away, especially since she’d given him permission to use her first name instead. “Yes?” She hoped her voice didn’t sound as strangled to him as it did to her.

“You told me I could say anything.”

“Jacob.” Riley spoke their son’s name as a warning, but Phoenix ignored that, along with his frown.

“You can. It’s absolutely okay.”

“No matter what it is?”

She swallowed hard. She hadn’t expected the questions to begin quite this soon. “Of course.”

Jacob looked at his father, but his inner turmoil was obviously driving him to disregard the quick shake of Riley’s head. “Did you do it?” he asked. “Because I have to hear that answer from you. I want to know the truth after wondering about it all these years.”

She didn’t mind him asking. She longed to tell him the truth. But it would’ve been much easier to discuss this some quiet night when Riley wasn’t with them, because she knew Riley would doubt every word she said. She was afraid he might even scoff at her denial, if not in front of her, then once he and Jacob got in the truck.

Still, now that she had the chance to tell Jacob she was innocent, she had to take it. Kids didn’t always wait for the best time or place, and if she missed this opportunity, maybe she’d never have another. Not like this, with her son so...open.

Tempted to grab his arms or do something else to impress on him just how fervent she was, she stepped forward. But she was still afraid that coming on too strong would scare him away. So she stopped there and lowered her voice for emphasis. “I didn’t do it. I swear I didn’t do it.”

“But you were driving the car! You had to have done it.” Although he sounded argumentative, he spoke as if he wanted her to persuade him otherwise, and she appreciated that more than he could ever know.

“There was someone else in the car, Jacob. Have you heard about this?” He must’ve been told bits and pieces over the years. But he hadn’t even been born when the trial took place, and he would’ve been ten or twelve before he was old enough to hear what had happened. That meant that whoever told him the story had very likely simplified an incident that was over a decade old. And once Jake entered his teens, maybe he felt it was a subject his father didn’t want to touch, so he didn’t push.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Who was it?”

Did this mean that Riley was so convinced she’d been lying when she gave her side of the incident that he didn’t even present it?

She didn’t know how else to interpret it. “A girl my age—a friend of sorts that I was supposed to be doing a homework project with,” she said. “My mother let me take the Buick so we could go to her house after school. When we spotted Lori Mansfield walking back to the high school after finishing her cross-country run, the girl who was with me said we should give her a little scare. I laughed. Maybe I said something that she took for agreement—I don’t remember—because the next thing I knew, she yanked on the steering wheel.”

His Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed. “Someone else turned the wheel?”

“Yes. I don’t think she meant to kill Lori. She had no reason to harm her. I’m guessing she thought I’d be able to correct in time, but I couldn’t.” She winced at the memory. “It all happened too fast.”

He spread out his hands, beseeching her. “Why didn’t you tell everyone that?”

Another group came out of the restaurant. She fell silent until they’d regained their privacy. Then she said, “I tried.” She’d told everyone in the courtroom. Riley hadn’t been there the day she testified, but surely he’d heard what she’d said from someone. “No one would believe me.”

She wondered how Riley was taking all of this but was afraid to look at him. “It’s the truth, but the girl who was with me denied it.”

“You’re saying she lied?”

Penny Sawyer had left Whiskey Creek right after high school and never come back, and Phoenix knew she probably never would. “Yes. Under oath.”

“Why would she do that?”

“I’m sure she was scared, Jacob. She didn’t want what was happening to me to happen to her.”

“So she let you take the fall.”

“Essentially.”

“But...why would her word be any better than yours?”

At this, Phoenix couldn’t stop her gaze from shifting to Riley. She found him watching her as intently as Jacob and got the impression he was trying to figure out whether he could believe her any more than he had before. So she decided to tell the down-to-the-soul truth, regardless of the embarrassment certain admissions might cause her. “Because they knew I had a...a terrible crush on your father. They called it an obsession, and maybe it was. They also knew by then that I was pregnant. You see, I hadn’t told anyone about you before the accident. I was too scared my mother, the school counselor and anyone who knew your father would want me to...to end the pregnancy or put you up for adoption. I wasn’t willing to do either.”

“They thought you were jealous of Lori.”

She guessed he’d heard that part before, since the entire story hinged on it. But had Riley provided the information? Or was it Riley’s parents? Or even others in town? She’d always wondered what people were telling Jacob about her. “They assumed I thought your father would come back to me if she was out of the picture. And the girl in my car had no motive. She was just being...silly.”

“That’s so unfair!” Jacob turned as if to gain the support of his father, but Riley remained silent, his hands jammed into the front pockets of his jeans.

“If what you’re saying is true, you served all that time for nothing,” Jacob said when he faced her again. “Why didn’t you fight harder to get people to believe you?”

Because she’d been an odd, unfortunate eighteen-year-old girl struggling to grow up with an obese, hoarding mother who wouldn’t even leave the house. Without champions, without the money to hire a decent attorney instead of the public defender who’d done a halfhearted job at best, she’d had nowhere to turn. To make things worse, Riley’s parents were so sympathetic to Lori’s family that they complained about how many times she’d phoned Riley or driven by their house, told everyone how she’d followed him around town. The fact that she’d also crank-called Lori after Riley had started dating her, had become a big part of the case against her.

Everything that could go wrong simply had.

“I didn’t have the tools,” she said. “I was only two years older than you are now and I was pretty well on my own. There wasn’t a lot I could do.” Especially because she couldn’t claim that she hadn’t been absolutely consumed with Riley. The day he came into her life everything had changed; it’d been like feeling the sun on her face for the first time. But after only six weeks of an intense “I have to be with you every second” affair, he’d suddenly broken up with her.

As rocky as her life had been, she’d never felt pain to equal that.

But she hadn’t killed anyone.

“The girl, the one who lied, this is all her fault,” Jacob said. “Do you know where she is? Are you going to try and find her and make her admit the truth?”

Phoenix had spent seventeen years thinking about getting out of prison and going in search of Penny. She craved vindication. But she knew chasing after it would be a waste of effort. Even if she could find Penny, it would still be her word against that of someone more credible. No one wanted to consider the possibility that an innocent woman might have been in prison for so long. And even if Penny suddenly and miraculously came forward on her own, it wouldn’t change what Phoenix had been through. It probably wouldn’t convince the people she needed to convince, since they didn’t want to believe the truth, anyway.

“No.” In the beginning, she’d sent so many letters to Penny, pleading with her to tell the truth. All the ones she’d mailed after the Sawyers left Whiskey Creek had been returned. She didn’t even know whether the early ones had reached the girl who could’ve made such a difference. “I have to focus on moving forward, forget the past.”

Jacob stared at his feet. When he lifted his head and spoke again, he sounded torn. “I’m not sure I can believe you.”

“That’s okay.” She forgave him easily, was grateful he was actually trying. “I understand how hard it is. I won’t put any pressure on you. We don’t have to talk about it again, if you don’t want to. We—”

“I think that’s enough for today,” Riley broke in. “Jacob, let’s go. We’ve got to work.”

Anxiety-induced sweat rolled down Phoenix’s spine. But she smiled so her son would know he could leave without feeling bad about anything. She didn’t blame him for being confused, and she certainly didn’t want to detain him any longer and get him in trouble with his dad. She’d known from the beginning that she’d have to earn Jacob’s trust over time.

Clasping her hands in front of her, she watched them get in Riley’s truck. She’d just taken a deep breath and was about to start her long walk home when Jacob turned and waved—and she knew she’d carry the memory of that tentative smile for the rest of her life.


2 (#ulink_09e2b742-bfda-547c-bb5b-2f7f56424599)

Jacob sat in silence as they pulled out of the parking lot. They had a job today, a remodel of one of the older Victorians in town, and needed to go to the lumber store, about ten miles away. On Saturdays, Riley hired his son to help out so Jacob could learn the trade, in case he cared to become a partner in the business when he was older or wanted to get his own contractor’s license. They had a lot to do, and they were getting a late start because they’d met Phoenix for breakfast, but right now it was difficult to concentrate on anything other than the past hour. Riley was so torn about what he’d seen and heard, he knew Jacob had to be really confused.

“You okay?” he asked as they rolled to a stop at the traffic light in the center of town.

Jacob gave him a morose shrug.

“Could you use your voice?” Riley asked.

“I feel...weird,” Jacob replied.

He looked sullen and unhappy. “Weird in what way?” Riley could guess, since he was so conflicted himself, but he felt it was important to get his son to talk to him about Phoenix. It hadn’t been easy to become a father at eighteen. Other than the help he’d received early on from his parents while he was commuting to college three days a week, he’d raised Jacob alone.

But Riley had a feeling that he was facing a much more formidable challenge now. He didn’t want Phoenix back in his life or his son’s, didn’t want to cope with all the old questions and doubts.

“I met my mother for the first time a few minutes ago, and I can’t decide how I should feel about her.”

Because he had no frame of reference. Riley hadn’t even given Jacob the many letters she’d sent, other than a handful of the less emotional ones. In his mind, he’d been protecting his son, hoping she’d move on and just leave them alone when she was eventually released. But if she was innocent, maybe standing between her and Jake had only hurt them both.

If so, that was a lot to feel responsible for.

“It’ll take a while to adjust,” he told Jacob.

“How would you feel if you were me?” his son asked. “Do you think she killed Lori Mansfield?”

The light turned green and Riley gave the truck some gas. Jacob had asked this question several times over the years, but Riley had always been able to say he wasn’t sure and leave it at that. Phoenix hadn’t ever been present in Jacob’s life, so Jacob hadn’t pushed the issue. But with her back home, he needed a more definitive answer.

“She wasn’t herself when all of that happened,” Riley said.

Jacob leaned forward to look into his face. “What does that mean? Are you saying yes or no?”

Riley had no idea whether she’d killed Lori. He only knew that everyone else insisted she must have, and the scenario created at her trial seemed logical. Lori was the girl he’d started dating right after Phoenix, and Phoenix had acted terribly jealous. “I’m saying she became a little...intense after I broke up with her.”

He’d often relied on her erratic behavior during that time as a reason to withhold another one of her letters.

“She could have done it.”

“Yes.”

The expression on his son’s face made it clear he didn’t like that answer. “But ‘could have’ isn’t proof!”

“There were witnesses, Jake.”

“Who saw her behind the wheel! She admits she was driving.”

“Penny Sawyer was a witness.”

“The friend she told us about? Penny, the one who might’ve grabbed the wheel?”

“Penny had no motive.”

His scowl deepened. “How come I don’t know any Penny Sawyer?”

“She moved away after the trial.”

“Why?”

“Because she’d graduated from high school, so she left for college like almost everyone else.”

“You didn’t leave for college.”

“I went to UC Davis three days a week because it’s only an hour away, and I had you. I wanted to be able to come home at night and take care of you. My situation was different, not hers.”

Jacob didn’t respond right away, but he didn’t sound any more convinced when he did. “Has she ever returned?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“That’s unusual, isn’t it?”

“Not if her family relocated during those four years, which they did. She had no reason to come back here.”

“She could’ve lied about what happened.”

“Or Phoenix is lying. Like I said, she wasn’t in the best frame of mind when Lori was killed.”

“So her frame of mind clinches the deal? Makes her guilty? Or did my mom go to prison just because she was heartbroken and jealous? She was pregnant at eighteen, with no one to turn to except a weird mother she was embarrassed by—a mother who couldn’t really do anything to help, anyway. From what I’ve seen of that grandma, you were the most normal thing Mom ever had in her life. Of course she’d try to grab on to you. She probably felt like she was drowning. And you were the one who got her pregnant.”

The fact that she’d been a virgin until he came along still made Riley feel ashamed of breaking up with her the way he had. But he hadn’t known she was pregnant when he told her he didn’t want to see her anymore. He’d only been acting on the advice—the insistence—of his parents. They’d been so positive that he was about to ruin his life by getting involved with a girl who wasn’t worthy of him they’d threatened not to pay for college if he didn’t listen.

“I wasn’t there that day,” Riley reiterated. “I can’t say what happened.”

“You must believe something deep inside.”

Riley wished his heart told him she was guilty. Then everything would be simple; he could condemn her without reservation. But...damn all the doubts. He’d always wrestled with them, as well as the question of how much involvement he should allow her to have in Jacob’s life. He’d been trying to act in the best interests of his son. His parents agreed with keeping her as far away from Jacob as possible. In the beginning, they were the ones who’d suggested it.

But had he done the right thing?

“I don’t know what to believe,” he admitted. “I hope she didn’t serve seventeen years for a crime she didn’t commit.”

“You’d rather believe she’s a murderer?” Jacob broke in, pushing him to commit himself one way or the other.

Riley gripped the steering wheel tighter. “No, of course not. There are no for-sure answers in this, that’s all. Trust me, if there were, I would’ve found them. I’ve nearly driven myself crazy with all the wondering and the second-guessing.”

“You helped put her away.”

He shot his son a glance that let him know he didn’t appreciate being reminded of that. He’d only spoken the truth when he testified about her incessant phone calls and her attempts to get back with him. But the last thing he wanted to believe was that she might have been wrongly punished and he’d had a hand in making that happen. “The DA put me on the stand. It wasn’t my choice.” He’d cared enough about her to want to stay out of the whole mess.

Jacob knocked his head against the passenger window. “God, I hate this! I’m tired of thinking about it, tired of everyone watching to see what I’m going to do now. Part of me wants to go on with my life and pretend she doesn’t exist. We’ve made it this far without her, right? But...if she’s not evil, I don’t see why I can’t have a mother.”

Riley sighed. He’d screwed up so badly when he’d gotten involved with Phoenix.

Or...maybe not. He loved Jacob too much to regret those six weeks. And it was hard to regret them for a different reason—he’d never had another girlfriend with whom he’d felt such an immediate and solid connection. He’d dated plenty of women who were more “suitable,” especially since then. But he had yet to find someone who was as engaging as Phoenix had been.

“I liked her,” Jacob said without being prompted, his voice sulky. He obviously hadn’t expected softening his heart to be such a temptation. Maybe he even resented it.

“I can see why. She was very nice at breakfast.”

“That’s not how she usually is?”

Riley turned down the radio. “It’s been seventeen years, bud. I can’t say how she usually is.” Prison might have twisted her if she wasn’t already as twisted as everyone thought.

Jacob twirled the leather bracelet she’d given him around his wrist as he tried to puzzle out how he was going to react now that his mother was back. “She tried to make this morning easy for me. Did you notice?”

“I did.”

“That was cool, after everything she’s been through. Don’t you think? She didn’t try to make us feel sorry for her or like we had to do anything we didn’t want to...”

“I agree. I thought that was...admirable.” Riley didn’t want to reverse his opinion or his policies on the basis of one meeting, but he’d been impressed with Phoenix—really impressed. She obviously took care of herself physically. She’d looked...not beautiful but attractive. And she’d said all the right things, done all the right things. She’d even paid for their meal, despite the fact that she had so little. Seeing her pick up the check, Riley wished he’d made arrangements with the waitress beforehand so he wouldn’t have to feel as if he’d taken her last dollar.

But did her behavior in this one instance mean he should foster a relationship between her and Jacob? Would that be good for his son or the worst decision Riley had ever made?

“What was she like in high school?” Jacob asked.

In an attempt to relax, Riley slung one arm over the wheel. “She was different from the other girls. Aloof. One of those people who watches the world and everyone around them with a certain amount of skepticism and distrust.” They’d been over this before. But, apparently, Jacob needed to hear it again.

“She wasn’t part of your crowd.”

“No.”

“Was she popular?”

“Not at all.”

“But you were popular. So why’d you go out with her?”

“I’ve told you. At first I saw only what everyone else saw. But one of our teachers asked me to tutor her in math, and after I started getting to know her, I learned that different isn’t necessarily bad. She was more interesting than the other kids. She wasn’t that great in math, but she was smart in other ways.”

“Did you think she was pretty?”

He pictured her as she used to be, in her dark clothes and big army boots, the black fingernail polish, the eyeliner and bloodred lipstick. “Not really.” She looked a lot better now, but he didn’t add that.

“Why not? What was wrong with her?”

“Nothing. She just refused to conform, wasn’t fixed up like the other girls were. She always wore baggy, secondhand clothes. Didn’t come to many school functions. Ate alone.”

“But...”

The tone of his voice must have suggested that he wasn’t revealing everything, and Jacob was once again pressing for more. “She didn’t have a lot to begin with, as you’ve pointed out,” Riley went on. And somehow she’d made it work, managed to create her own style. He’d come to admire that—and more—while they were together. He’d considered her someone who dared to go against the norm and disregard the dictates of the “in” crowd.

At least, that was what he’d thought of her until everything went so horribly wrong. Then it was easier to believe, like everyone else, that she didn’t have the conscience of a normal person.

“I think she’s pretty,” Jacob said.

“She’s okay,” Riley muttered, but these days she was much better than “okay.” Despite two or three scars, which didn’t detract from her appearance, there was a sophistication to her face that hadn’t been there before. And her eyes... They were more guarded than ever, but a measure of strength, maturity and determination shone through that set her apart. So he wasn’t fooled. Although she’d been very respectful this morning, almost deferential, there was still some fight left in her. All he had to do to find out how much was deny her the chance to be part of her son’s life. That was another reason he felt so torn. She wouldn’t be easy to dissuade where Jacob was concerned. He’d tried—to no avail.

“And I like the bracelet she gave me,” Jacob said.

“I can tell.” Riley pulled into the parking lot of Meek’s Lumber. “Are you going to invite her to one of your games?”

“Why not? Anyone can go to the school.” He hesitated with his hand on the door latch. “You’ll let me, right?”

As much as he wanted to refuse, if only to keep their lives simple and moving forward on the same track, Riley didn’t see how he could continue to enforce his will. “If having her there is what you want.”

“I can’t see how it’ll hurt anything,” he said.

Riley hoped that was the case.

* * *

Phoenix spent the first half of the walk home in a daze, reliving every minute of breakfast and thinking about Jacob—what it’d been like to meet him, to speak with him, to see him put on the bracelet she’d made. But after a couple of miles, she could no longer ignore the blisters that were forming on her feet. It was so hot today; every part of her body felt sticky.

She wiped the sweat from her forehead with one arm and considered removing her sandals. She would have, except there were too many briar-like plants and sharp rocks along the side of the road. And she couldn’t walk on the pavement without getting burned.

“Not much farther,” she told herself, but that was hardly encouraging when she had another three miles.

Why hadn’t she been more practical with the pittance the state had given her on her release? She could’ve bought some cheap running shoes. She’d tried on a pair. But she’d had her first encounter with Jacob in mind when she chose these sandals. She’d wanted to look her best.

She wondered if she’d hear from him on Facebook...

At the sound of a vehicle approaching from behind, she stepped off to one side, kept her face averted and waited for whoever it was to pass by. She didn’t want anyone to see how badly she was limping. She felt too many people in Whiskey Creek would take pleasure in her distress.

And what if it was one of Lori Mansfield’s parents or another member of her family?

They might try to take revenge. They’d certainly sent her enough ugly letters once they found out she was going to be released, warning her not to return to Whiskey Creek, threatening her if she did.

She tensed as the vehicle drew closer. It didn’t whiz by with a blast of hot air, as she expected. It slowed and came to a stop a few feet ahead of her. Then the driver—a dark-haired man from what she could see through the back window—leaned over and opened the passenger door. “Would you like a lift?” he called out.

Because she had no idea who this person was or what he might do to her, she almost waved him off. But this was Whiskey Creek; there wasn’t any violent crime here to speak of. As long as he wasn’t connected to the Mansfields, she should be okay. Not everyone in Whiskey Creek these days had been around when she lived here before. This could be a complete stranger, his offer the simple kindness it appeared to be.

Grateful that she wouldn’t have to continue the painful journey on foot, she hobbled to the truck. “Thank you. It’s so hot out today. And these darn sandals...”

As soon as she recognized him, she choked back the rest of her words. He wasn’t connected to Lori Mansfield—thank God. But he was connected to Riley. This was Kyle Houseman, one of the many friends who’d hung out with Riley all through school.

Phoenix didn’t want Riley to find out that Kyle had discovered her in such a pathetic state, so she backed away. “Actually, never mind. I just realized there’s no way we could be going to the same place. But thanks!”

She slammed the door, praying that would be the end of it. But he didn’t drive off. He reached over and opened the door again.

“You might not be aware of it yet, but you’re getting sunburned,” he said. “And it looks like we’re traveling in the same direction at least. I don’t mind going a little out of my way.”

If he knew who she was, he didn’t let on. But he would figure it out if she had him drop her anywhere close to her mother’s property. And getting close to her mother’s property was the whole point of accepting a ride. “I’m fine. Really. It’s not much farther.”

His eyes narrowed as recognition dawned. “Wait a second...you’re Phoenix.”

“Yes. Another reason you should go on your way.” After closing the door, she forced herself to walk without favoring either foot. But he lowered the window and rolled along beside her.

“I know where you live. Let me give you a ride.”

“I can walk a couple of miles,” she said.

“You seemed to be struggling when I came up behind you.”

He’d noticed? From so far away? “These sandals are new, that’s all. I’ll break them in.”

“So you don’t need a ride.”

“No, thank you.”

“Come on!” he argued. “I can’t leave a woman limping on the side of the road.”

“According to most folks around here, I’m not a regular woman.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’m a murderer, remember? Surely, you can leave me.” Instantly regretting the harshness of those words, she glanced over and attempted a smile. “I didn’t mean to be rude. I just...I’d rather not trouble you.”

“But it’s no trouble!”

Refusing was making a bigger issue out of this than simply giving in. Besides, she couldn’t tolerate the pain of marching beside him anymore.

When she stopped, so did he. “Fine. I guess I will take that ride,” she said, and climbed in.

As she put on her seat belt, he studied her with avid curiosity, and she supposed that was the price of his help. She was a freak in this town—the one person more reprehensible than all the rest.

“I’m sure you’ve got a camera on your cell phone,” she said. “Go ahead and take a picture.”

“I’m sorry.” He sounded a little abashed. “It’s hard not to stare. You look...different.”

So did he. Like Riley, he’d filled out, not that she cared. Anything that had to do with Riley—except Jacob, of course—was off-limits. She couldn’t even be friends with this man. “I’m nearly seventeen years older. Of course I look different.”

“What I mean is you look good,” he clarified. “You’ve aged better than the rest of us.”

He must not have noticed her scars. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

He leaned over to examine her feet. “You’re bleeding.”

Embarrassed, she raised the foot that hurt the most so it couldn’t touch anything, but he was increasing his speed, so he obviously didn’t expect her to jump out. “You’re the one who made me get in.”

“This is a work truck, nothing fancy, so don’t worry about that. But you might want to grab a napkin from the glove box.”

She did. Trying not to show how badly it stung, she patted one of those napkins against the blister that had burst.

“How long have you been home?” he asked as he drove.

“If you’re still friends with Riley, you know the answer to that question,” she replied.

He grinned as if she’d caught him. “Right. I admit he’s mentioned it. You got back...what? Two, three days ago?”

She kept her eyes on her foot. Kyle was nearly as handsome as Riley, but she didn’t want to acknowledge that. “Look, I’m not sure why you’re helping me. But if it’s because you want the chance to warn me not to cause your buddy any trouble, I assure you I won’t. I’m not going to cause anyone any trouble, least of all Riley or Lori’s family. I plan to keep to myself, mind my own business and...and see if I can’t get to know my son before he’s an adult and off to college.” She almost added, That’s not too much to ask, is it? But she understood that for many people here, it was too much to ask. They didn’t think she deserved anything—even to breathe the same air.

“You don’t have to be defensive with me,” he said. “I have no hidden agenda. I’m curious about you. Everyone is. But I don’t wish you any harm. And I’m pretty sure Riley can fend you off, if necessary.”

She folded her arms, wrapping them tightly around herself as she watched the scenery fly past her window. “He won’t have to fend me off.”

They’d almost reached the entrance to her mother’s property when Kyle said, “It was nice of you to send money to Jacob. I don’t think many people in your situation would’ve bothered.”

Riley had told him about her child support, too? He and Kyle must be as close as ever, she decided, but said nothing.

“The amounts you sent had to have been a sacrifice,” he added. “It’s tough to earn much inside.”

“I did my best.” God, wasn’t that the truth. She’d worked long, hard hours in the laundry, made bracelets on the side, thanks to the craft class that had inspired her business, and gone without everything she possibly could to provide that pittance for Jacob. “I wanted to do my part.”

“What did you say?”

Apparently, she’d spoken too softly. “I was happy to do it,” she said in a louder voice.

He pulled through the gate, which was sagging so much it couldn’t be closed, and her mother’s dogs, the three that weren’t inside Lizzie’s trailer, went wild.

She opened the door, which drew them, barking and jumping, to her side. The dilapidated condition of both trailers, not to mention the state of the yard, made her even more self-conscious about her situation here at home. She didn’t want Kyle to take note of all the junk, but she didn’t get out immediately in spite of that. He’d been surprisingly nice and, since she was prepared to meet hostility around every corner, she felt she hadn’t responded as politely as she should have. “Thank you for the ride. I apologize if I seemed...reluctant or ungrateful at first.”

With that, she managed to hop to the ground despite her blisters. Then she stood on one foot to watch him leave—it hurt too much to use the other—and was puzzled when, after he put the transmission in Reverse, he didn’t leave.

“If you ever need a ride, especially before your feet have healed, call me,” he said, and wrote his number on a scrap of paper, which he handed her.


3 (#ulink_f8e92221-547a-54cb-b6a9-2c658457c4e6)

The noise of the dogs brought her mother to the door. Because of Lizzie’s tremendous weight, she moved slowly and ponderously, so Kyle was gone by then. Phoenix was glad of that. But it was never easy to contend with her mother.

“What the hell’s going on out here?” Lizzie shouted, her words and tone containing the caustic edge she was so famous for.

Phoenix pocketed the slip with Kyle Houseman’s number, removed the sandal on the foot that hurt the most and limped close enough that she wouldn’t have to shout. She’d promised herself before she left prison that she’d be unfailingly kind to her mother. As ornery as Lizzie could be, she hated herself more than anyone else did. After what Phoenix had been through, she had greater empathy and understood that Lizzie sounded worse than she actually was. It was smarter not to react to all the cussing and yelling and the harsh things her mother said to drive people away.

Fortunately, the dogs stopped barking and settled down, so it became possible to speak in a normal voice. “Everything’s okay, Mom. Don’t worry,” she said, but a few calm words would never reassure Lizzie. She took nothing on faith and was always ready to fight, even if she was only shadowboxing some imaginary enemy.

A scowl creased what Phoenix could see of her face through the narrow opening. “Thought I heard a car.”

“You did.” Phoenix picked up her sandal. “My feet were hurting, so I caught a ride home.”

Now that she was no longer in danger of revealing herself to anyone else, Lizzie opened the door wider. “From who?”

“Just some guy who passed me.” Phoenix shrugged. Her mother didn’t need to hear the details. She wasn’t even sure what to make of Kyle, whether or not she could trust his kindness. She had few friends in this town and that probably wouldn’t change.

“You hitchhiked?”

“More or less.”

Her mother tsked. “You better watch out. Folks around here hate you, and you have no idea how they might decide to show it,” she said. Then she shut the door.

Phoenix stared at it, wondering why her mother had to be so difficult. Before she left this morning, Phoenix had told Lizzie she’d be having breakfast with Jacob. Why couldn’t she have shown a little interest in that momentous occasion?

She could have at least asked how it went...

Except that Lizzie thought reaching out to Jacob, holding on to any shred of hope that he might accept her, was a waste of time. She insisted that Riley would never allow either one of them to play a significant role in Jacob’s life and Phoenix was a fool for trying to prove she cared.

Maybe it was true.

With a shake of her head, she started back to her own trailer, which wasn’t easy with one bare foot. She had to thread her way through the refuse that had been dumped in the yard since before she was born. That meant circumventing old tires, two broken-down vehicles from when her mother did drive, a decrepit, hand-powered lawn mower, a washing machine. But it wasn’t the big stuff that worried her now that Kyle wasn’t there to see it. She was afraid she’d step on a nail or a piece of broken glass.

If she hadn’t been looking so carefully, she might’ve missed the banged-up bike peeking out from under an old mattress. Once she’d pulled it out, she saw that it had two flat tires and the frame was rusty, but...maybe she could fix it. Then she wouldn’t have to walk every time she needed to go to town.

Pushing the bike, she reached the trailer and leaned it up against the side. This was a project she’d have to tackle later.

She was just climbing the three steps to her door when her mother screeched her name.

From her new vantage point, Phoenix couldn’t see Lizzie’s steps—or Lizzie, either—but it wasn’t difficult to tell she was standing where she’d been before. She rarely came all the way outside.

“Yes?” she called back.

“My toilet’s plugged up!”

Phoenix allowed herself a grimace but was careful to keep the impatience out of her voice. “Did you try to plunge it?”

“You know I can’t bend over like that!”

So who’d played the role of plumber before Phoenix got home? The guy who’d delivered the groceries? Or did Lizzie call—and somehow pay—for a professional? Maybe she got a cut rate, like at the vet’s...

Phoenix didn’t bother asking. She went back and unclogged the toilet. Then she washed the blood off her feet and found some Band-Aids to protect her blisters.

“I’m hungry,” her mother announced as soon as she was done, so she warmed up some soup, hoping her mother would eat a healthy meal instead of the cheap pizza, soda, chips, cookies and candy she normally consumed. Only when Phoenix had finished cleaning out a small section of her mother’s kitchen—the one part not buried beneath all the things her mother hoarded—did she feel free to return to her own place, and by then it was after two in the afternoon.

The day was getting away from her, and she still had several bracelet orders to fill. She also planned to make some progress on the overhaul of her trailer. She’d been living out of the kitchen, bathroom and one bedroom—all she’d managed to put right so far. That alone was a major improvement over what she’d known in prison, but she was determined to turn her humble abode into a home she could be proud of, for its cleanliness if nothing else. People in Whiskey Creek might not believe that she was innocent of Lori Mansfield’s murder, but at least she’d show them she wasn’t willing to live in filth, like her mother.

She’d eventually have to clean the yard, too, if Lizzie would let her. It hadn’t been easy to talk her mother into allowing her to move the junk from the trailer into an old shed. Lizzie was terrified some of it would be thrown away, since the shed was full, too. And that was exactly what Phoenix had done. There wasn’t room for all the newspapers, plastic bags, paper sacks, balls of aluminum foil, empty soda bottles and other garbage her mother had collected. So when Lizzie wasn’t looking, Phoenix had made piles behind her trailer. Then she’d gone out early yesterday morning, on trash day, and dumped everything in the county’s container.

Phoenix was still frightened her mother would find out. Lizzie couldn’t bear to part with a single scrap of anything for fear she’d need it later. But she wasn’t as mobile as she used to be. Phoenix hoped that would save her from discovery. She had enough battles to fight at the moment. She didn’t need a big argument with her mother.

Once Phoenix removed her brown linen shorts and crisp blue cotton blouse—more damp than crisp after her walk home—she pulled on a T-shirt and a pair of old jeans she’d cut into shorts and belted because they were too big for her. The clothes had belonged to one of her brothers. She wasn’t sure which. She hadn’t seen Kip or Cary since she was ten. They’d both left town as soon as they could and never looked back. Kip hadn’t even been eighteen.

Phoenix had thought they might return one day, for her sake, and maybe they would have, if she hadn’t gone to prison. Her mother had spoken to them during her trial and asked them to send money for her defense. They’d helped a little, but it hadn’t been nearly enough to do any good, and they’d only written her a couple of times since. She guessed they considered her a lost cause, like their mother.

Finally beginning to relax after her anxious morning, she started the bracelets that had to be shipped on Monday. She planned to paint afterward. Although the gallon she’d discovered in the old shed at the back of the property wouldn’t go very far, there were another couple of gallons out there, and she found rehabbing the trailer to be a soothing exercise. She loved seeing the place transformed, figured she might as well do what she could with the paint while her mother had her favorite shows to entertain her and was less likely to need anything.

But she couldn’t work as fast as usual. She was too absorbed in thinking about her son, kept stopping to look at the picture of him with braces. She was just planning how she’d decorate his room, which was something she enjoyed imagining, when she put her head down on her wobbly excuse for a desk. She was only going to rest for a few minutes...

* * *

“What do you mean you gave Phoenix a ride?” Although Jacob had helped Riley do the prep work for the shower they were putting in the Victorian that was their current project, Riley had dropped him off at the high school so he could do some weight training with the rest of the baseball team. He’d purposely waited until he was alone to follow up on the text he’d received from Kyle at noon.

“She was walking along the side of the road when I was heading out to see Callie, who has some interesting news to share, by the way.”

Riley opened his mouth to ask for more information about Phoenix but was distracted by the mention of Callie.

“What kind of news?”

“I want to tell you, but...on second thought, I’d better wait and let her.”

“Is something wrong? She’s okay, isn’t she? I mean...nothing’s wrong with the transplant?”

Due to nonalcoholic fatty liver disease, their good friend had a liver transplant a couple of years ago, just before she married her husband, Levi. She seemed to be doing well since, but she had to take immunosuppressant drugs every day, and they had some unfavorable side effects. Riley had always been a little uneasy about her, terrified that there might be a problem with her new liver. If the transplant hadn’t become available when it did, they would’ve lost her.

“She’s fine. It’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

So what, then? Riley reflected on what they’d been talking about yesterday, when the entire group met at Black Gold Coffee, like they did every Friday. “She’s been planning to expand her photography studio. Is that what’s going on? Did she find the right location? Are you looking over the lease for her?”

“No. I’m sorry I brought it up. I spoke without thinking, because it’s been on my mind so much. But it’s her news. I should let her share it.”

“Why would she tell you and not me?” Riley asked. “If the space she’s considering needs improvements, she’d come to me.”

“You’ll understand later,” Kyle replied with a laugh.

That laugh reassured him. Kyle wouldn’t be jovial if Callie’s life was on the line again. “As long as her new liver is functioning properly...”

“It is. I swear.”

Riley took a deep breath. “Then back to Phoenix. She was probably walking home from Just Like Mom’s, where we had breakfast this morning. I told her it was too far in those sandals.”

“By the time I saw her, she’d gotten about halfway and had such bad blisters she could hardly walk.”

The mental picture made Riley wince, since he could’ve spared her that. “Did she recognize you?”

“Immediately. That’s what made it so difficult to get her into the truck.”

“Why? You don’t have any history with her.”

“But you do, and I’m part of your circle.”

Riley had gone from being the object of her desire to being anathema to her. At breakfast, she was careful not to show her dislike, but she’d barely looked at him. “How’d you convince her?”

“I wouldn’t take no for an answer. I couldn’t bear to let her continue walking on those bloody feet.”

Riley supposed he should’ve insisted on giving her a ride. She wasn’t his responsibility, and yet she sort of was. “Did she tell you we met up this morning?”

“No. She didn’t say much of anything.”

Then what was the purpose of this call? “That’s all you wanted to tell me? That you gave her a ride?”

Kyle cleared his throat. “Actually, no. I wanted to see if you’d mind if...”

“What?”

“If I bought her a few things.”

Riley pulled to the side of the road and sat there with his engine idling. He had his Bluetooth on, so he could legally talk while he was behind the wheel but at the moment, he couldn’t concentrate on anything besides the conversation. “What are you talking about? What kind of things?”

“A few necessities. Nothing big.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I feel sorry for her, okay? She has nothing. I don’t know how long it’s been since you were out at Lizzie’s place, but...it doesn’t look good. When she gets rid of something, she just throws it in the yard. With that kind of start, it won’t be easy for Phoenix to rebuild her life. She couldn’t have saved much in prison, not with the money she kept sending you.”

Riley shook his head in disbelief. “Since when did you develop such compassion for my ex-girlfriend?”

“Since I saw her hobbling down the road, and she was hesitant to accept even the slightest kindness for fear...I don’t know, for fear it would turn out to be another kick in the teeth. She reminds me of an abused animal, the way she tries to avoid people or skirt around them.”

“You learned all this from one encounter.”

“Even after she got in, she hugged the door. She looked like she’d jump out if I so much as raised my hand to scratch my head. She’s got a difficult road ahead of her, especially here in Whiskey Creek. But she’s facing down her detractors for the sake of her son. That takes guts, man. I can’t help admiring it.”

Riley felt the same grudging admiration, but he hated to acknowledge it. Hated to acknowledge that he’d probably go anywhere but Whiskey Creek if he were in her shoes. Not many people could withstand so much negative sentiment, and that wasn’t her only challenge. “Her mother lives here, too,” he pointed out, as if Lizzie gave her a second compelling reason to return.

“If anything, that impresses me more. It’s damn noble of her to come back to that kind of situation.”

Noble wasn’t a word he’d ever heard in conjunction with Phoenix. “You’re serious.”

“I don’t want to debate whether or not she’s really a murderer, Riley. As far as I’m concerned, that’s in the past. Who can say what was going through her mind when she did whatever she did? I only know that according to the judicial system, she’s paid her debt to society. Maybe the Mansfields aren’t satisfied, but seventeen years is a long time and I, for one, am ready to let her move on.”

Riley rubbed a hand over his face. If what she’d said in court—and reiterated this morning—about her friend yanking on the steering wheel was true, she wasn’t even responsible for what had happened. But he didn’t see anything to be gained by dredging that up. The truth was, Kyle’s offer to help her bothered him for other reasons, none of which he wanted to examine too closely. “What are you thinking of buying her?”

“New shoes, for starters. Since she doesn’t have a car, she’s going to be on her feet, walking a lot. And some clothes. Just a few things. I’ll spend three, four hundred dollars, tops.”

Riley winced again, this time at the memory of her buying his breakfast this morning, remembered how carefully she’d laid out the bills. “She won’t take charity, particularly from me or one of my friends.”

“I don’t plan to give her a choice.”

A line of other cars flowed past. “How are you going to avoid that?”

“I’ll buy the stuff and leave it on her doorstep anonymously—if I can get to her doorstep without being bitten by Lizzie’s dogs.”

“How do you know her size?”

“I was hoping you’d have that information.”

“No. I haven’t got a clue.” He suddenly remembered a lazy afternoon when they were hanging out together, and he was teasing her about how small her feet were. She’d told him she wore a six. That jumped into his mind, but he didn’t retract his initial answer. Kyle was going to need more than her shoe size.

“Then I’ll guess, pay cash and include the receipt so she can return or exchange the stuff.”

Riley pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’ve put some thought into this.”

“It’s been all I can think about since I dropped her off.”

“Fine, if that’s what you’d like to do,” he said. “I’m not sure why you’re even telling me about it.”

“You’re not?”

“It’s not as if she’s my enemy!”

“Really? Because I distinctly remember you not wanting her to come back. You spent years dreading the day.”

Riley couldn’t keep from feeling defensive. “I have a lot on the line,” he said.

“I understand. I’m not faulting you. I just felt I should let you know, because making things easier for her might also encourage her to stay when you’d rather she left.”

He had a feeling she’d stay regardless. She was so stubborn. “I don’t care if you help her.”

“Good. Thanks. And if it’s any reassurance, she told me she’s not out to cause you any trouble.”

“She volunteered that?”

“Pretty much.”

“Why?”

“My guess? To make it clear that she’s on her best behavior. That she wouldn’t ask you for anything, wouldn’t expect anything—even a ride from a friend of yours. She just wants everyone to leave her alone. And she wants to get to know Jacob, of course.”

Riley thought about how quiet his son had been all day. “I think he wants to get to know her, too.”

“Are you comfortable with that?”

He leaned his head back on the seat. “He’s sixteen. I don’t feel it’s my choice anymore.”

“Then we’d better hope her intentions are as good as she claims.”

No kidding. “I guess we’ll see, huh? I’ll talk to you later.”

“Riley?”

He hesitated before hanging up. “What?”

“She’s a lot prettier these days.”

A flash of anger shot through him, and he sat up straight. “That had better not be why you’re helping her!”

“Calm down. It’s not,” he said. “I just wondered if you’d noticed.”

“I’ve noticed,” he responded, and hit the end button.

* * *

“What about this?”

Riley grimaced at the blue dress Kyle had pulled off the rack. He was beginning to wonder what had possessed him to call his friend back and offer to go shopping with him. Just because Kyle had decided to play Santa in the middle of spring didn’t mean Riley had to get in on the act. “I don’t know. I don’t even know what I’m doing here,” he grumbled.

“I do,” Kyle said. “Phoenix is your son’s mother. So there’s that. And you feel bad about letting her buy you breakfast this morning, knowing she’s got to be living on pennies.”

“No, it’s your fault,” he said. “You dragged me into this.”

“Dragged you? You’re the one who suggested we stop at the grocery store on the way over here and get some canned goods. Thanks to you, we spent nearly fifty bucks on soup and chili and crackers and shit, and walked out of there with almost two boxfuls.”

The memory of Phoenix sitting at Just Like Mom’s in probably the only nice outfit she owned, counting out the money to cover his breakfast, made him squirm. But this wasn’t just about that. Spending a couple hundred bucks to help her get a start was the least he could do, especially if she was innocent. “Food makes sense. She probably needs that most of all.”

The sales assistant approached, a woman by the name of Kirsten, according to her badge.

“Clothes make sense, too,” Kyle said. “So...should we buy it?” He shook the dress to bring Riley’s attention back to it.

“That’s part of our new spring line,” Kirsten volunteered. “The cap sleeves are darling. So is the print. And with the way cotton breathes, it’s perfect for the warmer months. Any woman would love it.”

Riley figured she’d know better than they would. The girl he’d dated years ago would never wear something so feminine. But Phoenix was a woman now, and judging by what she’d had on at the restaurant this morning, her tastes had matured.

Even if it wasn’t the perfect choice, he doubted she’d be too critical. No one could ever accuse her of being spoiled. “I guess it’s fine.” They’d already been shopping for two hours and had agonized over their other purchases just as much. Now the mall was about to close, and they still had a ninety-minute drive home. He was anxious to be done.

With a sigh of relief, Kyle turned to the sales associate. “We’ll take it.”

She was heading to the register when Riley stopped her. “Wait! I don’t think that one will fit.” They hadn’t even looked at the tag.

“What size do you need?” she asked.

“A small one,” he replied.

“That doesn’t tell me a lot.” She chuckled. “How small?”

“We bought something in a size three at the last place,” Kyle told her.

Her heels clicked on the floor as she approached the rack where Kyle had found the dress. “I’m afraid this brand only comes in even numbers—zero, two, four. And I doubt we have a zero. We don’t get many of those. Is there someone you could call or text to ask?”

Kyle took out his phone. “Maybe one of our female friends has seen Phoenix since she’s been home,” he said, but Riley stopped him before he could dial.

“I doubt they have. And it doesn’t matter, anyway, because no one’s supposed to know about this, remember?”

“We can trust Callie, Eve or Cheyenne!” Kyle said.

“The fact that I’m pitching in on this is just between you and me,” Riley insisted.

Kyle scowled. “If it’s not going to get back to Phoenix, what does it matter?”

After everything he’d said through the years, it would seem like too much of a contradiction. And he didn’t want to deal with the questions his buying clothes for her would raise, or what the rest of the gang might surmise from his answers. “We agreed.”

Kyle shoved his phone back in his pocket. “So...what do we do? Make another guess?”

“That’s what we’ve done so far, isn’t it? You said yourself she can always return or exchange.” At least he’d known her shoe size...

“If she can walk all the way to Sacramento,” he muttered. “I wasn’t really thinking of the logistics when I said that.”

“With any luck, all the stuff will fit or she’ll figure out how to get back here and return the things that don’t.” Riley picked up the bags he’d put on the floor. “We’re just dropping this shit on her doorstep and leaving it at that.”

Kirsten obviously didn’t overhear a conversation like this every day. “Who’s the lucky recipient?” she asked, her gaze darting between them.

“An old acquaintance.” Riley had no intention of explaining more than that, even though he could tell she was curious.

“Maybe someone could give her a ride if it doesn’t fit,” she said, as if she’d easily solved that problem.

Riley ignored the comment. She couldn’t know that after spending nearly seventeen years in prison Phoenix had far fewer resources and friends than most people. “We’ll take a two or a four. Your choice.”

“My choice?” she said in surprise.

“If it helps, she’s small, maybe a hundred pounds, but she’s not flat or anything,” Kyle told her. “She’s got a really nice, um, figure.”

“I see.” As Kirsten turned to sort through the rest of the dresses, Riley shot Kyle a dirty look.

“What?” Kyle murmured.

“She’s got a really nice figure?”

He spread out his hands. “It’s the truth!”

“A hundred pounds isn’t much,” Kirsten mused, concentrating hard enough that she seemed oblivious to what they were saying behind her. “I haven’t weighed that since I was twelve. So...I’m thinking a two.”

“That’ll work,” Kyle said, but he would’ve responded the same way no matter what she recommended. They had no idea what they were doing.

“Here we go.” A pleasant smile curved her lips. “Will there be anything else?”

“We’d like one more outfit,” Riley said.

“For the same woman?” she asked.

“Yes.”

She draped the dress over her arm. “Something similar to this or...?”

“Maybe some shorts?”

“Got it.”

When she set off to fulfill Riley’s request, Kyle lowered his voice. “What about underwear?”

“What about it?”

“Don’t you think we should get her some?”

“Hell, no!” He wasn’t about to look at lingerie with Phoenix in mind.

At his unequivocal response, Kyle frowned. “Look, I’m not an only child, like you. I have a sister, so maybe I’m more comfortable with this. But a woman’s got to have underwear. And we passed a Victoria’s Secret store. I say we stop there on our way out, grab a handful of panties and a bra and be done with it.”

Riley stretched his neck. To continue to refuse would only make him seem immature. Kyle was just being practical. But Riley had slept with Phoenix. Of course he’d conjure up images and memories best forgotten. He’d been with only one other girl before her, an older girl who’d approached him at a party with one thing in mind. It had been more of an initiation than anything. But as much as he didn’t want to acknowledge it, even to himself, what he’d experienced with Phoenix had been different—all about mutual discovery and young love. She didn’t realize it, but their breakup had been almost as hard on him. He’d trusted his parents to know what was best for him, and yet he’d never felt sure they were right. “No one had better find out about this.”

Kyle slapped him on the back. “They won’t.”

“Including her.”

“It’s a doorbell ditch. She’ll never catch us.”

“We’re not ringing the damn bell. She can find whatever we leave in the morning. It’s not like it’s going to rain.”

The saleswoman was on her way back, arms full. “Do you like any of these?”

Kyle sifted through the various styles of shorts and shirts she’d collected. “I bet the cutoffs would look nice.”

The saleswoman seemed pleased with his choice. “Would you like to purchase them, too? Maybe with this purple shirt?”

He scratched his head. “I’m not sure about the shirt. I’m not big on purple.”

As they walked over to see about getting the shirt in a different color, Riley wandered through the rest of the store. They’d already bought Phoenix an expensive pair of running shoes, some flip-flops, a pair of “skinny” jeans and a white, lacy tank top. As far as he was concerned, except for underwear, they were finished. But when he turned around to go over to the register, he caught sight of an aquamarine top that looked as if it would match those stormy eyes of hers.

“You coming?” Kyle called.

Riley almost walked off without it. They had enough. But at the last second, he changed his mind and went back.

“Do you want that instead of the pink one we just got?” Kyle asked when he saw what Riley was carrying.

“No, we’ll get this one, too,” he replied. “I’m sure she could use an extra top.”

“You’re spending a lot of money,” his friend complained.

“What are you talking about?” He took out his wallet. “I’m paying half, so you’re still in it for less than you planned.”

“That’s all well and good. But I don’t want you to blame me later for what this cost you, just because it was my idea. You’re the one who’s running up the bill. You insisted on getting the more expensive tennis shoes.” He checked the tag on the shirt. “And this is sixty dollars!”

They could swing sixty bucks for someone who’d never had much of anything. He’d used the same rationale when considering the running shoes. Although he was probably a fool for getting involved in this—it made Phoenix sympathetic to him when he was hoping to keep her at a distance—he was starting to get excited now that they were finished with all the style and size choices. He kept imagining the relief these things would bring her, and that made him feel good despite the ambiguity of the past—or perhaps because of it. “It’ll only be thirty dollars since we’re splitting it,” he said, and watched the salesgirl ring it up.


4 (#ulink_0b545280-a22e-5e9a-b470-42600807520a)

A noise startled Phoenix. Earlier she’d awakened with a crick in her neck after nodding off at her desk and had stumbled to her bed, where she’d been sleeping ever since. She’d gotten very little rest the past few days; she’d been too busy, too anxious, too worried. Apparently, her exhaustion had overcome all of that. But she was still uneasy enough not to allow herself to sink too deeply into unconsciousness. At the back of her mind were those letters from Lori Mansfield’s family and the threats they contained. This was their town, they’d said. Lori’s town. Phoenix had no idea if Buddy, the brother who’d sent the worst of the letters, would actually “make her sorry,” as he claimed. But this sound...it wasn’t just the dogs, although she could hear them barking from her mother’s trailer.

She blinked into the darkness as the wooden steps leading to her door creaked again. Was someone looking for a way in? The fact that finding one wouldn’t be hard made her supremely aware of her own vulnerability. She’d opened her windows because it had been so warm in the afternoon and she didn’t have a working air conditioner. Then she’d been too out of it to remember to close them when she went to bed. Buddy could easily cut the screen on the large living room window beside the steps and hoist himself through...

Her heart in her throat, Phoenix scrambled out of bed and rummaged around until she found the bat she’d brought in from the yard her first night back. It was all she had to defend herself with, but she was determined that she would not let Buddy stop her from being part of Jacob’s life. She’d suffered enough for what had happened to Lori Mansfield. Since she hadn’t done anything wrong, besides make a couple of stupid crank calls to Lori before the accident, she’d basically been punished for falling in love with Riley Stinson. Her crush on him was what had given her the supposed “motive.”

“Who is it?” She hated the tremor in her voice. She needed to sound strong in order to convince Buddy—it had to be him—not to try anything. But he didn’t seem to be breaking in. She heard a thud, as though he’d dropped something on her porch. Then there was another thud and the tap, tap, tap of receding footsteps.

Holy shit! It sounded as if there were two people on her porch! What had they left behind? And what would it do to her?

Wielding the bat with single-minded purpose, she charged down the hall and through the front door, screaming like a banshee. “I’m not going anywhere, you sons of bitches!” she yelled.

Her mother had had a floodlight installed to discourage teenagers from coming out and throwing beer bottles at her trailer, so Phoenix could see the back of a tall figure dressed in black and wearing a hoodie. She thought he called out, “Shit! Let’s go!” But she couldn’t see anyone with him, and there was no way she could catch him. He ran off the property and sprinted down the road, too far ahead for her to even give chase.

“Phoenix?”

The dogs—and possibly her shouting—had awakened her mother.

“It’s nothing,” she told Lizzie, and squinted into the darkness, trying to make sure that was true. There wasn’t anyone else on the property, was there?

No one she could see. If there’d been two people, they’d both run off—but they’d left two medium-size boxes outside her door.

She wondered what mean thing her fellow Whiskey Creek residents had gotten up to as her mother reprimanded the dogs. “Settle down!”

Using her bat to poke the boxes so she wouldn’t have to get too close, Phoenix pushed them onto the ground. She was convinced they contained a bomb or a snake or something that was just unpleasant, like dog crap—so convinced she almost didn’t want to open them. She knew she wasn’t welcome here, didn’t need any more warnings. But one of the boxes broke apart when it struck the ground and what spilled out didn’t look dangerous or unpleasant.

From what she could tell, it was...clothes. And canned goods, which was why they’d hit the ground with such force.

She peered at the man—or men—who’d run off. Why would Buddy, or anyone else, bring her clothes and food?

Was there something wrong with it? It would be far crueler to make her believe this was a nice gesture, only to let her discover later that there were words written on the various articles, like Murderer, that he’d urinated on everything or that the canned goods were rotten or poisoned.

And what was in the other box? The one that hadn’t broken open?

Slowly descending the steps, she made her way around to find out, but she kept looking over her shoulder, checking to see whether whoever it was would come back. If Buddy had dropped off something intended to be hurtful, he’d want to stick around to make sure it had the proper impact.

There was also the possibility that he’d been hoping to draw her outside...

But everything remained quiet. There was no movement, no noise.

Just to be certain they were gone, she walked to the gate and stared as far down the road as she could. Nothing.

“Phoenix?” Her mother had managed to quiet the dogs. “You still out there? What’s goin’ on?”

Phoenix returned to study what lay on the ground, searching for movement. Had Buddy filled those boxes with cockroaches or earwigs or some other kind of bug? “I told you, nothing. Go back to sleep.”

“The dogs heard somethin’ or they wouldn’t have gotten themselves worked up like that!” her mother insisted.

“It was just me, chasing off a raccoon.” Whatever her visitors had brought, her mother didn’t need to know about it. Lizzie had been tormented enough for being odd, difficult, overweight, a recluse.

“You best be careful, girl,” her mother warned. “There ain’t nobody in this town who likes you.”

“I know, Mom. You tell me that every day,” she said, but not loudly enough for her voice to carry to the other trailer.

“Did you hear me?” her mother yelled.

Phoenix spoke louder. “I heard you. Don’t worry. I can take care of myself.” Tough talk for someone acutely aware of her own weakness. Fighting with other women was one thing. That had been frightening enough. But Buddy? He was a huge man, positive she’d killed his baby sister, who’d been only a year younger than he was, and he seemed to believe that justice meant an eye for an eye.

“Get inside and lock the door,” her mother urged. “The bastards who run this town would love nothing more than to catch you out at night.”

“I’m going,” she said, but circled the boxes that had fallen instead. Whatever they contained—bugs or snakes or rat poison—she needed to get rid of it.

Once again using her bat, she nudged the box that had broken open. It was clothes, all right. As she’d noted before, it also contained canned vegetables, beans and soup. And a shoebox. She thought that might be where she’d find the dog shit, but when she knocked off the lid, she saw that it was...running shoes?

“What’s going on?” she murmured. The clothes were for a woman. There wasn’t any writing on them or blood that she could see. She couldn’t smell urine. Everything looked nice and new. These were name-brand items with the tags still on them.

More of the same, as well as some packaged food, filled the second box.

Who’d brought her these things?

Whoever it was had included a receipt. Whoa...someone had spent a great deal and left her the option of return or exchange.

That sure as hell wouldn’t be Buddy.

Were these gifts, then? Everything was in her size, or close, and had been dropped at her doorstep. It had to be for her. But she was afraid to trust what she saw. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had given her anything, other than the small handmade gifts she’d exchanged with her friend Coop and a few of the other women in prison at Christmas. Cara had given her that laptop, but she’d also made Cara a fair amount of money for helping facilitate the bracelet business.

“Look at this stuff!” she muttered as she began to dig through everything in earnest. This was better than any Christmas she’d ever had.

She held up a pair of lace panties. Victoria’s Secret?

Returning those to the pile, she pulled out a sundress, carefully brushed off the dirt and hugged it to her. It was a two. She was fairly sure it would fit. And it was so darn pretty...

Eager to try it on, along with everything else, she started gathering up what had spilled. But she couldn’t stop thinking about the dark figure in the hoodie. She figured it had to be Kyle and felt bad for misjudging him. He was the only person who’d shown her any kindness so far.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and was suddenly so overwhelmed with gratitude all she could do was sink down on her knees and cry.

* * *

Afraid the dogs would start barking again, Riley held very still. When Kyle had run off, Riley had hidden. Now he was pressed up against the back of Lizzie’s trailer, taking advantage of the deep shadows, and couldn’t go anywhere until Phoenix went inside. He’d thought he’d just wait until she went in, then slip out of the yard. But she was too overcome to be in any kind of hurry. And seeing her, someone who was so distrustful, so prepared to battle some unknown assailant, break down when she finally realized she had nothing to be afraid of made Riley’s chest tighten to the point that he could barely breathe. He could only imagine what it must be like for her, to have so little in the way of resources and yet feel as if she had to take on the whole world.

There ain’t nobody in this town who likes you.

And yet she’d come back...

He clenched his fists and leaned into the rusty old filing cabinet that helped provide his cover. He refused to tear up—but fighting his emotions left a huge lump in his throat. Damn it! He’d known better than to get involved in this.

But it was the burning behind his eyes and the empathy that made his heart ache that caused the anger. He’d never been happier to give someone a gift.

Grateful to Kyle for thinking of it, for bringing it to his attention and making him feel responsible for meeting at least some of her needs, he watched as Phoenix wiped her cheeks, dusted off each item and restacked the cans inside the boxes.

The lights inside her trailer snapped on as soon as she carried the heaviest carton through the door. Then she returned to collect the other one.

After her door closed for the second time, Riley could have left without giving himself away. Instead, he was tempted to creep up to her window to see if she was trying on what they’d bought. It would be gratifying to see how it fit. His interest wasn’t sexual, so it didn’t seem all that reprehensible. But he decided that peeping through her bedroom window wouldn’t be appropriate despite his intentions.

Besides, Kyle had to be impatient waiting at the truck, which they’d parked half a mile or so away.

With a final glance at the bat she’d left on the ground, Riley was moving toward the street when he spotted a piece-of-shit bike leaning up against Phoenix’s trailer. She must have plans for that, he decided. She probably intended to fix it so that she’d have some transportation.

Noah, one of his best friends, owned the bike shop in town. Riley could get it fixed quicker and cheaper...

One of the dogs barked, making him a little anxious, but he couldn’t stop himself. He grabbed the bike before he left and was carrying it with him when he met Kyle on the road.

“What the hell is that?” Kyle asked.

“What does it look like?” he replied.

“Is that where you’ve been? Trying to steal her bike? I was beginning to think she caught you.”

“It wasn’t the bike that held me up.”

“Then what did?”

“It took her a while to open those boxes and figure out they were safe to accept.”

Kyle’s expression showed interest. “You saw her open them?”

“Yeah. After she chased you off, she thought whoever had left the stuff was gone.”

“But...how did she not see you? With that damn floodlight it wasn’t even very dark.”

“That’s why I couldn’t move. I was hiding in the shadows behind her mother’s trailer.” And she definitely hadn’t seen him. If she’d known he was there, she would never have broken down. That was what had made her relief and gratitude so honest. Here was someone who’d withstood so much tragedy without flinching. She hadn’t complained or railed at him when he didn’t bring Jacob to see her in the correctional facility, even though she’d requested it several times. She would simply wait a few months and politely ask him again.

Now he felt like shit that he hadn’t shown more consideration. But he hadn’t wanted to confuse Jacob, hadn’t wanted to do anything that might cause his son to stumble. His parents, who’d been so much help when Jacob was small, had convinced him that allowing any kind of contact with Phoenix would be a grave mistake. And there was something about believing that she’d gotten what she deserved that neutralized compassion in general—and in him, too—especially when so many people he respected stood united in that opinion.

“So what did she think?” Kyle asked as they walked toward the truck.

Riley shifted the bike to his other hand. It wasn’t heavy, but it was awkward to carry. “She liked everything.”

“Really?” He seemed pleased, and Riley understood why. He’d felt the same way when she’d held that sundress to her chest as if it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. “How do you know?”

Riley grinned at him. “Trust me, it was obvious.”

“She’s too guarded to show much emotion. But you could tell, huh?”

She wasn’t guarded when he saw her because she’d thought she was alone. All her walls had come crumbling down. But he felt it would violate her privacy to share the moment he’d witnessed, with those tears streaming down her face, so he kept it to himself. “Yeah, I could.”

“I hope I get to see her wear something we bought,” he said.

They reached the truck. “That felt great,” Riley admitted as he climbed into the passenger seat. “Thanks for including me.”

Kyle looked surprised. “Seriously, man? I know it’s hard for you to have her back.”

Riley had had his own challenges, but he’d never been through anything even close to what she had—and maybe none of it had been her fault. “Seriously.”

* * *

Riley almost ignored the knock that sounded early the next morning. He’d been up most of the night, and Sunday was his day off.

Jake can get it, he thought, and rolled over. It was probably one of Jacob’s friends, anyway, rousting him to go mountain biking or out for a hike.

But when the knocking continued, he remembered Jacob wasn’t even home. He’d stayed with his best buddy, Tristan Abbott, last night and Riley had been happy to let him. He’d known that if Jacob stayed elsewhere he wouldn’t have to explain his own whereabouts or actions.

“Coming!” he called as he dragged himself out of bed and yanked on a pair of jeans.

“Where’s your shirt?” his mother snapped once he opened the door.

He shoved a hand through his hair. “You’re lucky I have my pants on. Anyone who bothers me this early deserves to see me in whatever state I decide to answer the door.”

“Have you seen her?” she asked as she brushed past him and into the house.

He didn’t really want to have this discussion. He knew who “she” was, and he knew that he and his mother were going to have very different opinions on Phoenix, especially after what he’d witnessed last night. He wished everyone would leave her alone, let her live in peace.

“She took Jacob and me to breakfast yesterday morning at Just Like Mom’s. Why? Is that the reason you’re here? Did someone tell you about that?”

“No. But I’m surprised you didn’t.”

“This is the first time I’ve seen you. Did you want me to file a report?”

She perched on the edge of his couch. “That would’ve been nice. You’re not the only one who has a stake in this, you know.”

“Where’s Dad?” he asked.

“On his way to the golf course with his friends.”

“He was willing to miss the ‘Phoenix’ talk?”

“He’d miss my funeral for a good golf game.”

Riley couldn’t help chuckling.

“So?” she said.

“So, what?”

“How did she act?”

They were back to the nitty-gritty details of his first visit with Phoenix. “She was very...polite.”

“Of course! She wants to impress you.”

“She wants to know her son, Mom. She’s made that clear, wouldn’t you say?”

“That’s what she’d like us to believe, but she hoped to get you before, and I’m sure she’d be thrilled to land you now. You remember how fixated she was on you.” She picked a piece of lint off her slacks. “You wouldn’t want to start something like that up again, would you?”

Even that aspect of Phoenix’s actions had been exaggerated over the years. “She deserves the chance to prove she’s changed.”

“What are the odds she changed for the better in prison?” his mother responded.

“Don’t make it sound like that’s impossible. Otherwise, why would we let anyone out?”

“Because there aren’t enough cells to keep all the murderers locked up. But I didn’t come here to debate the penal system. I was hoping to get you to reconsider being so flexible. She’s probably seen things you and I can only imagine. Who knows what kind of people she met in that place? I don’t want her to become a negative influence on Jacob after all we’ve done to raise him right.”

Riley’s temper was beginning to chafe. “Mom, Jacob’s sixteen. Almost an adult. We can’t protect him forever.”

“He’s at a very impressionable age!”

“Still, we need to trust in who he is. It’s up to him to decide whether he wants his mother in his life.”

“But he doesn’t know what’s best.”

“Neither do we! That’s the thing!”

“We have a lot more to base our decision on than he does.”

With a sigh, Riley slouched into the chair opposite her. “I’m not so sure. I’ve been wondering if we were wrong to keep them apart. It hurt Phoenix deeply, and I honestly don’t think she’s all that bad.”

His mother’s eyes widened. “Maybe you need to talk to Lori Mansfield’s family, to be reminded of how much they’ve suffered from losing their beautiful daughter.”

“I’m sympathetic to the Mansfields. I know you and Corinne are close friends, that her happiness is important to you. But they’re not the only ones who’ve suffered. And if Phoenix has been telling the truth about the events of that day, her punishment was completely unjustified. I’d hate to add to that.”

His mother got to her feet. “Now you believe she’s innocent?”

“There’s nothing to prove her guilt or her innocence.”

“Then look at the facts. That’s what they convicted her on, isn’t it? She was jealous when you started seeing Lori. So she tried to take her out of the picture. It was Phoenix’s car that ran her down, and Phoenix was behind the wheel. There was even a witness inside the vehicle!”

Who might have been lying, but he could tell the argument was only going to escalate if they continued talking about this. “We don’t know exactly what happened,” he insisted.

“What’s gotten into you?” she asked. “Just last week you were wishing along with the rest of us that Phoenix would go somewhere else.”

That was before he’d met her for breakfast, before last night. Both encounters had had a profound effect on him. It was much easier to malign someone who wasn’t around. Now that he’d seen the contrast between the real Phoenix and the monster they’d created in their minds, he understood that everyone’s negative comments and opinions had fueled fears in him that might not be well founded. “I didn’t want her to come back. I wrote her and told her as much.” He didn’t say that was one letter he wished he could unsend. “But Whiskey Creek is her home as much as ours. She can come here if she wants, and there’s nothing we can do to stop her.”

“So you’ve made up your mind? You’re going to support a relationship between her and Jacob?”

“If that’s what he wants, yes—unless she does something that seems...wrong.”

“By then it might be too late.”

“That’s the chance I have to take.”

“When they’d both be better off if she’d just move somewhere else?”

He thought of the shopping he and Kyle had done. His mother would not be happy if she learned that they’d helped Phoenix, but he didn’t regret it. Giving her those things had felt right.

“How would they both be better off?” he asked. “She has nothing to start over with. At least if she stays here she’ll have a free place to live until she gets on her feet.”

“That dump out there isn’t even sanitary. A normal person wouldn’t want to stay there.”

He felt slightly defensive. “She’s doing what she can to clean it up.” She’d told him as much.

“Either way, the Mansfields won’t put up with her living in this town.”

Riley scooted forward but rested his arms on his knees. He didn’t want to come on too strong. “There’s nothing the Mansfields can do.”

“Of course there is,” she said.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying someone should warn her. Maybe that’ll make her think twice about burdening us with her presence.”

He’d been uncomfortable with this conversation from the beginning, but now he was downright concerned. “Warn her? Really?”

“Yes! I’ve heard Corinne say that Buddy won’t allow it. You know how close he was to Lori. They were thirteen months apart and did almost everything together growing up.”

“I know he’s angry that his wife left him last year. He always seems to be out causing trouble now that she’s gone. But Phoenix has nothing to do with his current misery.”

“How can you say that? She’s at the root of it. He’s never been able to get over Lori’s murder.”

“So it’s also Phoenix’s fault that he goes from job to job? That he’s currently making minimum wage working as a clerk at the hardware store and living with his parents?”

“You can’t judge him!”

Although Riley had spent a lot of time around Buddy through the years—thanks to the friendship between families—he’d never cared for him. Buddy had always been an egotistic braggart. “But he can judge others.”

“In this instance, I think he’s got the right. Anyway, he wrote Phoenix before she was released. But either she didn’t get his letter, or she ignored it, like yours.”

Riley felt his muscles tense. Buddy was six feet four inches tall and weighed probably 230 pounds. A single blow from his meaty fist could cause significant damage. Even with a bat, Phoenix would never be able to defend herself. “What did Buddy say in that letter?”

“I don’t know. It’s not as though Corinne read it to me. But it was something to the effect that she’d regret it if she came back here.”

No wonder Phoenix had reacted the way she had when she’d heard them on her porch last night. She must’ve thought the Mansfields were coming for her. “He’d better not hurt her,” Riley said.

His mother frowned at the firmness in his voice. “I have no say over what he does,” she responded.

“Then maybe he should be warned.”

“About...what?”

“If he hurts her, he’ll answer to me.”

His mother’s mouth dropped open. “You’re taking her side? Coming out in opposition to my best friend’s son? When he’s the one who’s lost a sister?”

“Phoenix is Jacob’s mother,” he said, as if he’d be doing it for the sake of his son. But he knew in his heart that Jacob wasn’t the only reason he was willing to defend Phoenix. He admired her guts and determination almost as much as he admired her desire to be a mother to her child. Whether she was guilty or not seventeen years ago, she deserved the chance to prove herself.

He was drawing the line.


5 (#ulink_e800fb47-e8ea-5e14-adeb-483a58787d4c)

“What’s wrong with you?” her mother snapped.

Phoenix set the frying pan to one side and turned in surprise. It wasn’t easy to cook in Lizzie’s trailer. Hemmed in by stacks of packaged goods—trash her mother, for some strange reason, found valuable—plants, a bevy of dog bowls and giant bags of dog kibble and an overlarge hamster cage that took up most of the table, she had barely enough room to move on the sticky linoleum. Maybe that was why her mother never bothered with real food—she could no longer fit in her own kitchen. “What do you mean?”

“You’re smiling and humming and acting all...happy. What have you got to be happy about?” Lizzie absently petted one of her five dogs, this one a poodle, as she narrowed her eyes. “Did you have a man over last night? Was that the fuss that woke me?”

Phoenix felt her face flush. “No, I didn’t have a man over.”

Lizzie studied her more closely. “Then why are you blushing?”

“Because you’re embarrassing me!” For the past seventeen years, she’d rarely allowed herself to even think about sex. She hadn’t wanted to miss physical intimacy as much as the other women seemed to; that was all some of them talked about. She also hadn’t wanted to get involved in the kind of romantic relationships that sometimes sprang up between them as a replacement. “I’d rather not talk about my sex life—especially with you,” she added as she dished up the scrambled eggs she’d made for breakfast.

“What is it, then?” her mother pressed. “What’s put you in such a good mood?”

“Nothing! It’s a beautiful Sunday, that’s all. And I have plans to go into town.” She was going to use the internet to create her Facebook page so Jacob could message her. She was looking forward to making contact with him again without having to go through Riley.

“Yesterday was a beautiful day, too,” her mother said with a saucy lilt, as if there had to be more to it.

And there was. Her lift in spirits had nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with the fact that at least one member of the Whiskey Creek community didn’t have hard feelings toward her—that and how feminine she felt in her new clothes. Who would’ve thought a lacy bra and a pair of matching panties could make a woman feel so...attractive?

She was beginning to think that maybe it wouldn’t spell doom to have a man’s hands on her body—as long as she waited until after Jacob went to college. At that point, she could probably start dating and, possibly, get serious.

“You’re not a lesbian, are you?” her mother asked.

Phoenix slammed the drawer after getting them each a fork. “Stop. No.”

“Did those women in that prison ever try to touch you?” Lizzie accepted her plate grudgingly, but Phoenix guessed that, deep down, she enjoyed the care she was receiving. At any rate, Phoenix hoped she did. It wasn’t readily apparent, wasn’t as if her mother ever said anything to show her appreciation.

“Did they?”

“No,” Phoenix insisted, but that wasn’t strictly true. Although no one had gotten very far, in the beginning she’d had to fight to keep herself from being used—and that had earned her some dangerous enemies, which hadn’t made the time she’d served any easier.

“So you still like men.”

Phoenix refused to meet her eyes. She was afraid her mother was saying, So you still like Riley, and she wasn’t going anywhere close to that question. She didn’t like Riley, not in that way. Anyone would think he was handsome, because he was. “Right now I’m only interested in Jacob, okay? I’ll worry about everything else in a couple of years.”

“You’re what...thirty-five?” Her mother spoke around the bite she’d just taken. “That’s getting up there, but you could have more children if you don’t wait too long.”

The toast popped up. Grateful for the distraction, Phoenix turned to butter it. “I’d better figure out how to support myself first.”

“You look like you’re doin’ fine to me, all dolled up in those tight jeans. They must’ve cost a pretty penny.”

She’d been thinking she’d help support her mother if she could. Lizzie had trouble getting by on her disability check. But that comment made her wonder why she’d even consider it. “They were a gift.”

“From who?”

Phoenix hadn’t been planning to tell her mother about last night. But if she did, maybe Lizzie would quit reminding her how much everyone hated her. It was difficult to hear, even though, for all intents and purposes, it was true. “Kyle Houseman.”

Her mother’s fork clanged on her plate. “Why would Kyle Houseman give you anything?”

“To be nice,” she said with a shrug.

“Don’t you believe it!” she scoffed. “He’s Riley’s friend.”

Already, she regretted revealing her secret. “I’m aware of that.”

“Then why would you accept anything from him? If you get involved with Kyle, you can kiss your chances of a relationship with Jacob goodbye. Riley won’t put up with you messin’ around with his friends.”

“I’m not going to be ‘messing around.’ Kyle’s not coming on to me, Mom.”

Her mother gave her a “stop lying to yourself” look. “Then what is he doing?”

“Trying to be generous, I guess.” She wasn’t really sure. He just didn’t seem as judgmental as everyone else. Or maybe he wasn’t as close to Lori’s family.

“No one’s that generous to an ex-con,” her mother said. “He expects a return on his money, or he wouldn’t have spent it.”

“That’s so jaded!”

“I’d rather be jaded than a fool who learns the hard way.”

Phoenix could no longer taste her eggs, but she shoveled them down, anyway. “He’s a friend,” she muttered. “And I could use a friend right now.”

Her mother hooted, making Phoenix feel like the biggest idiot in the world. “He’s the kind of friend who’d like to get inside your pants and then drop you on your ass the same way Riley did. Boys like Riley and Kyle don’t date girls like you, Phoenix. It’s time you faced up to that. It’ll save you a lot of heartache later.”

Her mother just had to be crass. “I don’t even want them,” she said, and left her plate in the sink instead of cleaning up because she couldn’t bear to remain in Lizzie’s presence.

* * *

It was a lazy Sunday morning, the kind of perfect spring day when people breezed in and out of Black Gold Coffee in twos, threes or fours, talking and laughing. The laid-back feel of the place, as well as the trendy atmosphere with its wooden floors and chalkboard menu, helped take the edge off the residual anger Phoenix felt after that encounter with her mother. Lizzie had issues. Phoenix tried hard not to let them affect her. Still, there were times when Lizzie’s negativity washed over her like a tidal wave, threatening to drown her. She had so much difficulty dealing with her mother. Even when she was young it had been tough. At least prison had taken her out of that situation, not that she ever wanted to go back to living behind bars.

Now she was getting a short break from Lizzie and using the internet, as she’d wanted, but she couldn’t completely relax. Whenever she was in public she worried about running into a member of Lori’s family. She felt certain the Mansfields would cause a scene. So far, she’d been lucky. She hadn’t bumped into them—or Riley’s parents, who’d come out in such strong opposition to her seventeen years ago.

Coop, a friend she’d met in prison, would call a reprieve like that “a tender mercy,” and Phoenix was inclined to agree. Coop spotted tender mercies everywhere. Although she readily admitted to shooting her father when she caught him molesting her two-year-old daughter, and had three years left on her sentence, she managed to retain her optimism and keep fighting. It was her encouragement that’d helped Phoenix through her darkest times. You’re young and you’re beautiful and you’ll get out of here someday, she used to say. Then you can do anything you want with your life, and don’t let anyone tell you different.

For a second, it was almost as if she could hear Coop’s voice. That brought on a moment of nostalgia, made her miss Coop and a few of her other friends.

She decided to write them. She’d promised she would. But first she had to set up a Facebook account, she told herself, and focused more intently on the screen.

She wasn’t particularly good with a computer. She had barely enough knowledge and experience to be able to post her bracelets on Etsy and eBay, to manage her PayPal account and to respond to the people who contacted her, but millions of others had gotten on to the social networking giant, and she was sure she could figure it out, too.

The only problem was the bell that jingled over the door whenever anyone walked in or out. It was distracting. That noise signaled a change in her environment, alerted her to something new and potentially dangerous, and that made her tense—until she saw another individual or small group she didn’t recognize.

Fortunately, she had her coffee, so she could sit in the corner and try to go unnoticed behind her computer screen.

She was reading Facebook’s instructions when the bell went off yet again. She leaned to one side to see who it was—and did a double take. The last person she’d expected to come walking through that door was Jacob. He strolled in with a friend, both of them wearing beanies and looking so cute she couldn’t help feeling a sense of pride. That was her boy and he was big and handsome and smart. He seemed like a really nice person, too.

But she didn’t want to put him on the spot. She was afraid that singling him out might embarrass him. So she kept working as if she hadn’t noticed him. She thought he and his friend would grab their lattes or whatever they were getting and head out without glancing in her direction. But Jacob spotted her while they were waiting for their order and surprised her by saying, “Hey! It’s my mom.”

He’d spoken loudly enough that it would seem strange if she didn’t look up. So she met his gaze and smiled. She was just trying to decide if she should walk over, or if he’d rather she just waved. But she didn’t have to make that choice; he brought his friend to her.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

She turned her computer so he could see it. “Trying to navigate Facebook for the first time.”

“Piece of cake,” he said. “Let me help you.”

He pulled a chair from another table and slouched into it while Phoenix nodded politely to the boy who was with him.

“I’m Tristan,” his friend said.

“Tristan’s on the baseball team with me,” Jake explained.

She extended her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“It’s cool to meet you, too.” He gave her a bashful smile. “Jake told me you were pretty, but...I didn’t think you’d be this pretty.”

“Dude, are you hitting on my mom? Sit down!” Jake said with a shocked laugh.

Phoenix was slightly embarrassed but flattered at the same time. It was good to know Jacob was proud of her, at least in one respect. And she was even more grateful to Kyle, if indeed it was Kyle, for providing the jeans and blouse she was wearing. Otherwise, she’d be in the same clothes she’d worn on Saturday.

“One iced coffee, one mocha,” the barista called out, and Jake asked his friend to get their drinks.

“See? You click on this,” he told her, shifting so they could both view the screen. “Then you choose a username and put your personal information in here.”

“My real name is different enough that I’ll stick with that.”

“Okay.” He typed it for her.

“Do you set up the page the same way if it’s for a business?” she asked.

“You want one for a business, too?”

She saw that he was wearing the bracelet she’d given him. “Yeah. I have a little something going and thought a Facebook page might help.”

“I’m pretty sure it would be the same.”

Tristan returned with their coffees, but instead of getting up and heading out, Jacob continued to prompt her through the Facebook process while Tristan looked on.

A few minutes later, her personal page went live.

“We did it!” she exclaimed.

“I’ll friend you when I get home,” Jacob said.

“So will I,” Tristan piped up.

Jacob cocked an eyebrow at him. “Dude, you’re not friending my mother.”

Tristan went beet red. “Why not?” he muttered, but Jake’s attention had already shifted back to her Facebook page.

“What are you going to use as your profile pic?” he asked.

“Just a photo of some scenery I can grab off the web, I guess. I don’t have a camera.”

“That’s a problem I can fix.” He stood up and pulled out his smartphone. “Smile.”

The optimism and happiness she’d felt this morning, before her mother had quashed it, swelled inside Phoenix again. She grinned up at him, and he snapped a picture before returning to his seat.

“How’d it turn out?” she asked.

He leaned over so they could both look at it, and she breathed deep, taking in the scent of her child and wanting so badly to put her arms around him—to feel him against her just one time, since she’d never been able to hold him when he was a baby.

“It’s good,” he said, oblivious to all the chaotic thoughts and motherly desires he was rousing in her.

“That should work,” she said, and he emailed it to her so she could load it.

“Does your father work today?” she asked as they waited for the photograph to hit her in-box.

“No. He takes Sundays off, which means I’m off, too.” He rocked back and stretched out his legs. “Hallelujah!”

“You don’t like working with him?”

He shrugged. “I don’t think it’s too much fun when all my friends are out messing around. But...I like being able to do what I can do. Nobody else my age can install a water heater or frame a house or put on a roof. And giving up my Saturdays is how I saved enough to buy some wheels.” He motioned to the window, and she glanced out to see a white Jeep. It wasn’t brand-new; it had some miles on it. But he was proud, and she admired Riley for making him earn the money.

She could only imagine what the girls thought of her son and was so glad his high school experience seemed to be better than her own had been. “That’s a nice Jeep,” she said.

“Would you like me to give you a ride?” he asked.

Even at this late date, he seemed open to getting to know her. She wasn’t going to miss this opportunity. “Sure.” She closed her laptop, slid it into the backpack she’d found at her mom’s and appropriated for her own use and stood as he took out his keys.

“It’s a sweet ride,” Tristan said.

She followed them out. “Your father won’t mind you taking me for a test-drive...”

He made a face as if it was ridiculous of her to ask. “Why would he care? It’s my Jeep.”

But Riley wasn’t convinced yet that she was good for him. Jacob had missed that nuance, and she was so excited that he wanted to share something with her, she chose to ignore it. Riley didn’t have to know about the next few minutes. It wasn’t as though she was doing anything wrong by letting Jacob show her his Jeep.

“You can sit in the front,” Tristan volunteered, and hopped into the back without using the door.

Phoenix felt a huge smile stretch across her face. This was “a moment,” she decided, the moment she’d dreamed about for so long. She was with her son, and he seemed okay with having her there.

As Jake started the engine and pulled out, he managed the vehicle so effortlessly she had to marvel at how grown-up he was, and that he had so many abilities.

“I owe your father a lot,” she said, and meant it.

He didn’t seem to follow. “For what?”

“He’s done a great job with you.”

The cocky grin he flashed made her laugh, so then he laughed, too.

She loved the feel of the wind blowing through her hair as they drove, sometimes a little too fast but not so fast that she had to say anything. She was glad of that.

“Have you ever driven a stick?” he asked.

“Me?” Phoenix brought a hand to her chest. “No.” They didn’t teach that in prison. She’d missed out on so much. She hadn’t even been able to name her son. Riley had done that. But more than anything, she regretted not being there to watch Jacob grow up.

He pulled to the side of the road. “Come around. I’ll teach you.”

She shook her head. “No, I can’t. I haven’t been behind the wheel in a long time. I’ve got to get used to driving an automatic before I attempt a stick.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to try?” he said. “It’s not hard...”

“Just riding around with you is fun for me.”

“Okay,” he said, a bit reluctantly, and drove them to a muddy spot outside town to go off-road. As they lurched around, Phoenix clung to her seat belt. But he wasn’t getting too crazy, so she could enjoy it. By the time they returned to the pavement, her stomach was sore from laughing so much, and she wished she had some money she could offer him for gas.

Maybe next week, she thought. If she had enough bracelet orders. She sold most of her bracelets for fifty dollars, but she’d considered adding some new models, with various silver beads and options to personalize them, and planned to charge seventy-five dollars for those.

“You’re a good driver,” she said.

She expected him to thank her. When he didn’t, she looked over to see him watching his rearview mirror with an expression of concern.

“What’s wrong? Don’t tell me it was illegal to do those doughnuts.” If he got a ticket while he was with her, that wouldn’t please Riley, not when he was so concerned about the kind of influence she’d be.

Jacob didn’t answer that, either. He just changed gears and sped up, so she twisted around to see for herself.

She didn’t find a police car following them—but there was someone driving so close behind them, she was afraid they were about to be rear-ended.

“What’s going on?” she asked. “Why is that guy trying to hit us?”

Jacob’s jaw tightened. “That’s no ‘guy.’ That’s Buddy.”

Fear blasted through her, wiping out all the laughter and fun. “Mansfield?”

“Yeah.” He spoke through gritted teeth. But she could recognize the driver herself now, even with the limited view she had through the front window of his oversize truck. Buddy had changed a lot. From what she could see, he was now sporting a full beard.

“Pull over, Jake,” she said.

“That wouldn’t be a good idea,” he responded.

“Why?” Tristan shouted. “He’s gonna crash into us!”

Phoenix was too focused on her son to explain. “You have to let me out.”

“No way,” Jake said. “That’s what he wants. Then he could do anything.”

This was so dangerous. She was terrified that Jake or his friend would get hurt—because of her. “Stop now. Please!”

Her son’s eyebrows jerked together. He was obviously thinking fast, trying to decide the best course of action. But she just wanted to get him and Tristan out of this situation as soon as possible, before something tragic could occur. “What will you do?” he asked, sounding torn.

“Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

“Against someone like that?”

Buddy tapped their rear bumper, giving them a small jolt.

“I don’t want you in the middle of this!” Phoenix cried. “Do what I say! Now!”

“No!” he snapped, suddenly adamant. But they’d reached town. He had to brake at the light, so she released her seat belt and jumped out, not even trying to take the backpack that held her laptop and purse.

“Mom!” Jacob tried to stop her but she slipped out of his grasp.

“Get out of here!” she yelled back. “Go home!”


6 (#ulink_71a27d92-993a-5aa0-bae1-c6862fd2a906)

Riley had just finished mowing the lawn and was leaning against the kitchen counter, cracking open a cold beer, when his cell phone went off. Leaning over, he slid it toward him so he could see who was trying to call him.

As he’d expected, it was Jacob.

“’Bout damn time,” he muttered. His son had chores and homework to do before school tomorrow. “There you are,” he said after pressing the talk button. “Where’ve you been? I thought you were going to drop Tristan off and come home after you picked up a coffee.”

“Dad! You got to come now!”

At the panic in his son’s voice, Riley slammed down his beer, which splashed all over his hand. “What’s going on? What’s wrong, Jake? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, but...”

Although he couldn’t be sure, it sounded as if his son was crying, and that nearly paralyzed him with fear. He hadn’t heard Jake cry in a long time. “Did you get into an accident?” He rinsed off his hand and grabbed his keys. “Are you hurt?”

Jacob cleared his throat, obviously struggling to get the tremor out of his voice. “No. But...Buddy saw us and was...and was acting crazy. So she jumped out. Then he veered toward her. It didn’t look like he hit her hard, but she fell. And now she’s bleeding!”

He was speaking so fast he was leaving out pertinent details. “Who’s she?”

“Mom!”

Phoenix? Riley was at the front door, but at this revelation, he paused. He couldn’t help feeling betrayed, as though they’d held some kind of secret meeting. “What were you doing with her?”

“I ran into her at Black Gold, and I...I just wanted to give her a ride in my Jeep.”

Riley could easily see that happening. Jake was so excited to have his license, so damn proud of that old Jeep. And of course, Phoenix would never refuse his offer.

He threw open the door and hurried outside. “Where are you?”

“At the corner of Sutter and Kennedy, just as you come into town.”

“I’m on my way.”

“She fell into a ditch, Dad. I think she hit her head on a rock, but she won’t let me call 9-1-1. Tristan says I should do it, anyway. I would but she doesn’t like him to even mention it. And she keeps trying to get up.”

Riley climbed into his truck, fired the engine and threw the transmission into Reverse. “Where’s Buddy now?”

“Gone. He took off as soon as he did it.”

“Sit tight,” he said. “I’ll be right there.”

The drive took only a few minutes, but it felt like forever. Jake’s Jeep, when he finally found it, was parked off the road, halfway in a field, as if he’d pulled over and stopped wherever he could. Next to it, Riley saw Jake and Tristan leaning over someone else, who had to be Phoenix, although they were blocking his view.

Riley left his truck next to the Jeep and hopped out.

Jake met him before he could even round the back bumper. “I’m glad you’re here. She’s hurt, but she says it’s not bad, that head wounds bleed a lot.”

Riley didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say until he’d seen her injuries.

“I’m okay.” Phoenix waved him off when she caught sight of him. “I told Jake there was no need to bother you. I’m just a little scraped and bruised, and embarrassed to have caused a scene.”

She’d hit her head, all right. There was blood running down the side of her face. Jake pressed her back when she tried to get to her feet. Riley got the impression he’d been doing that since it happened.

“What do you think, Dad? Shouldn’t she go to the hospital?”

“There’s no need for that,” she said.

Riley crouched beside her and examined the gash above her temple. He was no paramedic. He wasn’t sure how deep it was or if she needed stitches. It was even possible she had a concussion, but she seemed coherent, and that was a good sign. He’d seen a friend get hit pretty hard during a football game in high school and could still remember how he’d repeated himself over and over and babbled on about strange things that weren’t even taking place.

Phoenix wasn’t doing any of that.

“What happened?”

“I told you...” Jake started, but Riley cut him off.

“I’d like to hear her tell it.” He wanted her perspective, but he also thought this might be a good way to judge whether or not she was thinking as clearly as it seemed.

“It was Buddy,” she said. “He was trying to run Jake off the road to get him to stop, and I was afraid...I was afraid he’d wind up causing an accident. So I got out, but it was just as the light turned green, which gave Buddy the chance to gun his motor and come straight at me. I jumped into the ditch, so he didn’t actually hit me and I...fell awkwardly and banged my head, I guess.”

“Then he took off?”

She nodded, giving him a wan smile. “I’m sorry about this. I never intended to put Jake in danger. We were only taking a ride in his Jeep.”

“It’s not your fault,” he said gruffly, so angry with Buddy that he could hardly speak. He could understand the terrible loss Buddy had suffered. He wasn’t unsympathetic to that. But Buddy had no right to drag the past into the present, to act as judge, jury and executioner. Phoenix had been through due process and served her full sentence.




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