Inescapable (23 page)

Read Inescapable Online

Authors: Nancy Mehl

Tags: #FIC042060, #FIC042040, #FIC042000, #Young women—Fiction, #Stalkers—Fiction, #Mennonites—Fiction, #Kansas—Fiction

I turned and left, hoping her shyness would disappear. It was important to me that Clay see how bright she was. I needn't have worried. It only took a couple of questions from Clay to get her wound up. I could hear her beginning to jabber as I went into the kitchen to fetch the tray with our plates. While carrying it to the table, I cautiously avoided the dangerous bump in the rug. By the time I got back, Clay was laughing heartily at something Charity had said. It felt strange to see them together, even beginning to bond.

“Chicken-fried steak?” Clay said when I put the plates down. “Wow, I haven't had chicken-fried steak in a long, long time. One of my very favorite foods in the whole world.”

“Me too,” Charity said, never taking her eyes from his face.

I could have pointed out that she'd only had chicken-fried steak one other time, but I kept my mouth shut.

I gave in to Charity's plea for pop and also brought a coffeepot to the table for Clay and me. Dinner went by quickly as Charity gave Clay the rundown about everything that had happened since she'd come to town. He got an earful. From my mother's “bad potty” to meeting a man who looked just like Prince Phillip from
Sleeping Beauty.
Clay glanced over at me during this particular part of Charity's recitation, and I tried to look innocent, but I could feel my cheeks burn. Thankfully, he didn't ask any questions, and we soon moved past the uncomfortable topic and on to something safer. Charity began to regale him with all the foods she'd helped Miss Cora prepare.

“You'll be running the restaurant by yourself before long,” Clay said, his eyes crinkled with humor.

Charity considered this idea. “I think I might be able to,” she said after a brief pause. “It's really not too hard. Alls you gotta do is drop stuff into grease or flip things over on the grill. But I'd hafta get a tall chair. I can't reach most things in the kitchen, you know.”

Clay shook his head. “No, I didn't know that. You look pretty big to me.”

She grinned at him. “Thank you. I'm really much taller than I look.”

Clay laughed. “You know, I've always felt the same way.”

I brought out cherry cobbler for dessert. After we finished, I told Charity it was time for bed. She could barely keep her eyes open.

“But I don't wanna go to bed, Mama,” she whined. “We have company, and I wanna stay downstairs.”

“You should mind your mother,” Clay said sharply. “Bad little girls don't get presents from Santa, you know.”

I frowned at him as Charity's eyes grew large, and her small bottom lip stuck out in a pout. “I'm not a bad little girl,” she said, hurt in her voice.

“No, you're certainly not,” I said. I stood up and took her hand. “Come on, we're going upstairs.” I could feel anger rising inside me, though I tried to keep myself composed.

Clay cleared his throat. “I . . . I'm sorry, Charity,” he said, stumbling over his words. “I know you're not a bad girl. Will you forgive me for saying that? I just wasn't thinking.”

She stared at him for a moment. Finally she smiled. “It's okay. Sometimes I don't think either. We all make mistakes. Mama says that all the time.”

“Yes, I do,” I said quickly, attempting to keep my temper in check. “Now let's go, young lady.”

I made her say good-night to Clay and took her upstairs to bed, still stinging over Clay's words. He had no right to say something like that to Charity. Perhaps she was his child too, but he wasn't raising her. I was. I intended to confront him when I went back downstairs.

After tucking Charity into bed, I said, “Honey, Clay hasn't been around many little girls. He didn't mean what he said. Some adults just don't know how to talk to children.”

She sighed, as if dealing with grown-ups were the bane of her existence. “I know that, Mama. Grown-ups say really silly things sometimes. Like Grandpa.”

I smiled at her. “Yes, just like Grandpa. Do you still want to pray for him?”

She nodded solemnly. “Yes, and for Clay too.”

I found it ironic that we were praying for my father as well as for her father, even though Charity had no idea who Clay really was. Charity's prayer was sweet and childlike. She simply asked God to help her grandpa to “not be sad anymore,” and to teach Clay “all about little girls.” By the time I returned to the dining room, Clay had cleared our table.

“You didn't have to do that,” I said.

“Yes, I did.” He shook his head. “I'm so sorry, Lizzie. Guess I was channeling my dad. He used to talk to me that way all the time. It just popped out.” He gazed into my eyes. “Please forgive me. It won't happen again.”

“All right, Clay. As long as you never make another comment like that to Charity. Even when she's acting badly, I never call her bad.”

“You're totally right. I wasn't raised in a home that was very affirming or supportive. I'm so glad Charity is being brought up differently. You're a wonderful mother, Lizzie.”

I shook my head. “I'm not sure about that, but I try. I love Charity with all my heart.”

“Am I forgiven?”

“Yes. As long as we understand each other about Charity.”

He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “You're the boss. I'll work at keeping my dad's voice out of my head and his words out of my mouth.”

“Thanks.” The remnants of my previous anger melted away. If anyone understood the echoes of a parent's disapproving words, it was me. “And thank you again for clearing the table. It was very thoughtful.”

He grinned. “After that great dinner? It was my pleasure.” He patted his flat stomach. “That's the best meal I've had in a long, long time. I don't cook, and neither does my mother. After Dad died, she decided she'd fixed all the meals she was going to.”

“Well, I can't blame her. I guess when you're alone it's a relief not having to cook anymore.”

“I guess so, but sometimes I wish she'd venture into the kitchen again for me. Even on holidays we go out to restaurants. I miss the family dinners we used to have.”

“You still have other family, don't you, Clay? I remember that there were some aunts and uncles.”

He sighed and shook his head. “After my father died, Mom cut everyone off. She's become something of a hermit. It's obvious she's really hurting, Lizzie. She keeps it all inside, but she's different than she used to be. Kinder but sadder. I've tried my best to make her happy. Unfortunately, I've come to the conclusion that I'm just not enough. As hard a man as my dad was, she loved him. And I think she counted on him too.” He shrugged. “Maybe having security was even more important to her than love. I don't know.”

I reached over and touched his arm. “I'm sorry, Clay. I really am.”

He put his hand over mine. “Thank you. I really appreciate that. My parents weren't kind to you, Lizzie. Wish I'd known what was going on at the time. When my mother finally told me about their
offer,
I was absolutely horrified.”

“I . . . I assumed they were acting for you,” I said softly. “I had no idea. . . .”

He let go of my hand and picked up his coffee cup. “I know I didn't handle things the right way, but I must say I'm still surprised you could believe that. I thought you knew me better. In fact, I thought you loved me. Was I wrong?”

I shook my head. “No, you weren't wrong. But after your parents tried to pay me to have an abortion and I didn't hear a word from you, I assumed it had all been an act.”

“So I could get what I wanted?”

I stared down at the table, too embarrassed to look at him. I could only nod.

Clay let out a deep breath. “I guess I can see why you came to that conclusion. After you got pregnant, I disappeared. I sure wish you would have had more faith in me, though.”

“I do too, Clay. I wasn't a very secure person. My father—”

“I know. He didn't treat you very well, did he?”

“No. Maybe I judged you by his standards. I can see now what a big mistake that was.”

He waved a hand in the air. “Don't apologize to me. The truth is, none of it was your fault. I took advantage of you and caused the entire mess. It shouldn't have happened.”

“You're right. It shouldn't have happened, but I'm certainly glad to have Charity. So something good came out of it.”

He smiled. “She's beautiful, Lizzie. You've done a wonderful job with her. I'm sure it hasn't been easy raising her alone.”

“It hasn't, but being her mother is the most important thing in my life. She's given me so much joy. I don't know what I'd do without her.”

He sipped his coffee and then put the cup down. “You never did tell me why you came back to Kingdom. I was certainly surprised to find out you were here.”

I hesitated. Should I tell him the truth? I looked into his face and saw something there that made me remember how I used to feel about him. How much I'd loved him. Slowly but surely the entire story tumbled out. About the threatening notes, the man in the red cap, Reba, running from Kansas City to Kingdom. Everything. Even things I hadn't told my mother. When I finished, I felt better, as if sharing my burden had cleansed me, but I was also a little terrified of having made myself so vulnerable.

“Oh, Lizzie,” Clay said, reaching out for my hand. “I hate to think of you going through all of this by yourself. What can I do?”

“There's nothing anyone can do. I've put it in God's hands. I didn't take that money, and I had nothing to do with that man's death. God will have to defend me, I guess. I plan to raise my daughter and not worry about what might happen next.”

He smiled and squeezed my hand. “I think that's the best thing you can do. I'm proud of you.” He frowned as he stared at our hands, fingers intertwined. “My father had business partners in Kansas City. Some of them have good connections into the political goings-on there. Would you let me ask them to find out what's happening in regard to these trumped-up charges?”

“I want to know what's going on, Clay, I really do. But what if their inquiry leads back here? I haven't decided what I want to do about this situation yet.”

“Nothing will go wrong, Lizzie. Trust me. These are the kind of people who wouldn't do anything to put you in danger. They're very discreet. Long-term friends of the family.”

I mulled it over. Not knowing was almost worse than the original threat. If the charges had been dropped, Charity and I would be free. I decided the chance was worth taking. “Okay,” I said slowly. “But please tell them to be very careful.”

“I will. Don't worry.”

Clay pulled my hand up and kissed it lightly. “If I'd been with you, none of this would have happened. You wouldn't have had to run away. I'm to blame for everything.”

“No,” I said firmly. “You're not. I see that now.” I shook my head. “Since coming back here, I've realized a lot of things. My father planted a seed of insecurity in me that gave me a wrong view of my life, and of so many people. Maybe I had no way to know what was going on with you, but I immediately jumped to the wrong conclusion when you moved away. If I'd been a little more self-confident, I probably would have tried to contact you for an explanation. Instead, I just assumed the worst. That you didn't care.”

He stroked my arm lightly, causing goose bumps to pop out all over my skin. “You made a very logical conclusion, Lizzie. Frankly, we both made mistakes. After we buried my father, I should have come back here in person, not relied on letters as a way of contact. My mother might have wanted me by her side, but she would have been all right for a week or two. I put her above us. Above you. Above my daughter. And that was wrong.” He blinked back tears. “I've missed out on so much. I'll never get those years back.”

“Maybe we both need to stop blaming ourselves,” I said gently. “Isn't it time to move on?”

He took both my hands in his. As I looked into his eyes, I had the strange sensation of falling off a cliff. The emotions I once felt for him flooded back.

“Lizzie, I know this will seem sudden, but it isn't. Not really. I want what we should have had all this time. I want you to marry me and come back to Seattle. I'm serious about Dad's business. In a few years I'll be in charge, and we'll have everything we could ever want. Charity will be able to go to the best schools. The best college. And you'll both be safe. No more running. No more worrying about money. Let me take care of you, Lizzie. Let me love you the way I should have six years ago. I'll make you happy. You have my word.”

The sincerity in his face made me believe it was possible, but I was so taken aback by his proposal, I couldn't come up with an answer. This is what I'd always wanted. To give Charity her father. Wasn't this the reason God brought me back to Kingdom? I wanted to say yes, but feelings for Noah gripped my heart and stopped me from being able to give Clay the answer he wanted.

“I . . . I don't know, Clay. It sounds so amazing, but will you let me think about it?”

He kissed my hand again. “Of course. Maybe my offer took you by surprise, but it really shouldn't. Haven't we both always known that we were meant to be together? We're simply righting a long-standing wrong. Doesn't that make sense to you?”

I nodded. “It makes complete sense. I feel the same way. I'm just confused . . .”

“I understand. There's no pressure. I want you to be sure. Sure of us. Sure of me.”

I smiled at him. “I never stopped loving you.”

He grinned. “I fell in love with you the first time I saw you. Did I ever tell you that? When your father pulled you out of school, I was heartbroken. That's why I begged to take over the delivery route to Kingdom back when Cora was buying her supplies through our family store.”

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