Tottie came into the kitchen, yawning. “You still up?”
“I thought I heard something and came downstairs. Ruth was having a cup of tea, so I joined her.”
She nodded. “Think I'll have one too. I'm having trouble going to sleep.”
“You'd think we'd be exhausted after the long day.”
“Running on nerves. We're too keyed up to sleep.” The microwave dinged, and Tottie removed her cup of hot water. “We'll all be glad when this is over.”
“Did you clean Warren's house today?”
“Clara isn't the neatest woman in the world, I can tell you that. Drops things all over the house, eats and leaves a mess. She's about to drive Warren up a wall.”
“She's used to having people wait on her. Probably has servants and aides and all of that.”
Tottie removed the tea bag from her cup and sat down at the table. “You know, sometimes she isn't all that bad. In fact, get her off to herself without Warren around, and she's nice enough. She's had a hard time. I know she's spoiled, used to having her own way, but she was raised poor. Clara has had to work her way up the chain, and it hasn't always been easy.”
“And then she was unfortunate enough to marry an abuser.”
“She's not the first woman to make that mistake.” Tottie took a sip of tea, her manner preoccupied. “You know there's more than one kind of abuse. There's physical, but there's mental and emotional abuse too. I think Clara has been emotionally abused as well as physically.”
“Sometimes that leaves the deepest scars.”
“It's true.”
Tottie was silent for a minute, and from her expression Katie could tell she was in serious thought. Finally she looked up. “You think we can hold on to the shelter?”
“I don't know. Warren wants me to close it. He thinks keeping it open is dangerous.”
“It can be, but nowhere is safe these days. People get killed working in a post office or convenience store. I don't suppose it's any more dangerous than anywhere else, if you really think about it.”
“I told him I'd consider closing, but I can't bring myself to seriously think about it. It's so much a part of my life.”
Tottie nodded. “Guess when all is said and done, you owe it to your grandparents' memory to save it if you can.”
Yes, of course, and without Tottie's help, physically and financially, she could have never opened the establishment. She had been left the ranch in an agreement of trust. Her grandparents had worked hard to build up this property. She couldn't betray their confidence. Somehow she had to find a way to keep it and the shelter too.
Tottie moved the mug, creating wet circles on the tabletop. “What if Neil Townsend isn't behind the harassment? What if it's someone you've never considered?”
“I guess we'll soon know,” Katie admitted. “If Clara leaves and the harassment stops, then it was Neil.”
“And if it resumes, it wasn't Neil.”
Katie glanced up. “You don't think it's over?”
“I didn't say that, but we can't know for sure. Anything is possible. You're trusting, Katie. You may have an enemy you don't know about. A deadly enemy.”
Coldness washed over Katie. A killing frost. “It has to be Neil Townsend. Who else can it be?”
Tottie shook her head. “I have no idea, and maybe you're right and it is Townsend. I'm just saying we can't drop our guard until we know for certain.” She got up and carried her cup to the sink. “I'm going back to bed. Tomorrow's another day. If I'd known I was going to be a TV star, I'd have lost a few pounds before the cameras arrived.”
The phone shrilled before daybreak. Startled from a sound sleep, Katie fumbled for the receiver. Sleep tinted her voice. “Yes?”
Ben's friendly timbre greeted her. “Sorry to call so early, but we need to move quickly on this. I've arranged for Clara to move to Whispering Springs â ”
“In Cope?” Cope was bigger than Little Bush by a few hundred people, but it was a safe distance away.
“They can accommodate her, and the place is so remote, it's unlikely the press will find her before the election.”
Katie sat up clearing her throat. “How will we move her without the reporters spotting her?”
“Here's the plan: dress her like Bobbi Weller.”
Jodi Weller's sixteen-year-old? It could work. Bobbi's “Britney Spears” obsession was about to ruin her. Any tasteless bit of fashion to hit the streets drew her like a magnet.
“Bobbi runs errands for you, doesn't she?”
“Occasionally.” Before Warren put a stop to the unnecessary expense.
“Then it shouldn't raise suspicion if Tottie left and came back with Bobbi, then half hour later came out of the house with Clara dressed in Bobbi's clothes, would it.”
“No â it could work. Clara is small like Bobbi. And Bobbi has black hair, and Clara has a black wig.”
“She has a wig? Great. Can you get Bobbi?”
Katie glanced at the darkened window. “It isn't daylight, Ben.” Good grief. Without telling the Wellers the whole messy story, she couldn't show up on their doorstep at this ungodly hour requesting that their daughter run an errand for her on a school day.
“Get around as early as you can. We have to shake the press. The town is getting antsy with the disturbance. My phone's been ringing off the hook.”
“I understand.”
Ben clicked off without saying good-bye. Katie fumbled the receiver back on the cradle, then groaned and yanked the sheets over her head.
Katie waited until six o'clock to call the Wellers. Jodi, Bobbi's mother, answered the phone. “Katie? You're up early. What's wrong?”
“Nothing. I need Bobbi to do something for me. I'll pick her up, and then when she's through, I'll take her to school.”
Jodi's tone had a frown. ”What do you need Bobbi for this early in the morning? Can't it wait until after school?”
“No, actually, it can't.” Katie searched for a plausible reason why Jodi Weller should allow her to pick up Bobbi at six-thirty in the morning. She didn't blame the woman's reservation.
“Look, Jodi. You know the situation we have out here.”
“How could I not know? It dominates every television channel day and night.”
“Well, I need Bobbi for something involved with that. I'll take care of her, I promise.”
Silence.
“Jodi?”
“I'm thinking. Katie, I really don't want Bobbi's picture all over the television screen. It's not safe.”
“I agree, and she won't be, I promise.” That word again. Hopefully she could deliver. She didn't want to expose Bobbi to the pitiless eye of the camera either.
Jodi sighed. “All right, Katie. I trust you. I guess it will be all right.”
“I appreciate it. I really do. Tell Bobbi I'll be there in a few minutes.”
Bobbi downed the last of her cereal when Katie arrived. She calmly buttered a piece of toast and swigged milk. “I'll be ready in a sec.”
Katie glanced at her watch. “I don't have a sec. We need to leave right now.”
Bobbi's expression turned rebellious, but Katie gave her a stern glance. The teenager rolled her eyes and then drew a deep breath. “Fine.” She shrugged into her coat, pulled on her backpack, and grabbed her toast. “Let's go.”
Once in the car, Bobbi munched her toast, not speaking, which was fine with Katie. At this point, she didn't have anything to say.
Bobbi finished her meal, took a tube of something shimmery out of her pea-sized purse, and swiped it across her lips. Her dark hair was longer than Clara's, but hopefully no sharp-eyed reporter would catch the minor detail.
“I'll miss cheerleading clinic.”
“I promise to have you in class no later than ten.”
“Too late.” She sat back and stuck a piece of sugarless gum into her mouth. “Practice is over at 8:30.”
Katie stepped on the gas, her thoughts focused on Ben's earlier summons. Even with Clara dressed like Bobbi, how did the sheriff intend to divert the reporters' attention? At this point, they were suspicious of anything. Bobbi perked up when they passed the reporters who were on the job, cups of steaming brew in their hands. The coffee shop was experiencing a financial boom from the hullabaloo.
“Am I going to be on television?”
“I hope not. I promised your mother you wouldn't.”
The teenager's expression fell. “But it would be awesome. Everyone would be so jealous.”
“Sorry, won't happen.” Katie hit the gas and zipped up the drive to park in front of the house. A stock trailer was backed up to the barn, and Ben's deputies were in the process of loading the injured horses. The barn lot was a beehive of activity.
Katie exited the jeep, pulling the hood of her coat up closer. A sharp wind cut through her. Ben approached, removing his leather gloves. He was dressed in a khaki uniform and a black ball cap with the letters SHERIFF emblazoned across the top. His cheeks and ear tips glowed with winter's bite.
Katie huddled against the blowing wind. “What's going on? Why are you loading the horses?”
“Need to borrow them for a day or two.”
“Why?”
He paused, smiling. “We need a distraction in order to move Clara.” His gaze located the jeep. “I see you have Bobbi.”
“I promised I'd have her in school by ten.”
“No problem. Clara arrived here a few minutes ago.”
“How? Without being seen?”
“Arrived in a U-Haul truck. The shelter just received a new mattress donation.”
“Really!” They could
use
a new mattress!
“Not really. Warren purchased one recently and still had the box in the garage.”
“Rats.”
“Take Bobbi into the house, then have her switch clothing with Clara. Come out again in fifteen or twenty minutes with Clara dressed as Bobbi. Get in the car and drive away. Take the main highway to the school allowing the reporters to keep you in sight. Let Clara out at the school and tell her to walk through the main hallway and meet you at the back exit. I've already spoken with the principal, so they know what's going on. Pick Clara up at the back exit and take her to the Conoco station. I'll arrange for one of my men to transport her to Whispering Springs.”
“Who'll take Bobbi to school?”
“Tottie will, once we pull this off.”
“What if she doesn't have a change of clothing in her backpack?”
“She'll have something.”
Right. The girl was a hound for fashion and changed clothes as often as a woman changed her mind. “Where's the press while all this is taking place?”
“Keeping an eye on the horses. Janet will come out dressed in Clara's clothing and get in the back of the trailer with them.”
A giggle escaped Katie at the image of Janet hunched on hay bales surrounded by horse poop, all for Clara's sake. “Then what?”
“I've arranged for a friend to take the horses for a couple of days. He'll take good care of them, Katie. He's a vet. Janet will ride back with me, and I'll deliver her to the shelter late tonight.”
“What does Warren think of the plan?” He'd have to love it. He'd be rid of Clara and the confusion.
“Haven't talked to Romeo. I'll let you handle that.” Ben turned and headed toward the activity.
“You don't believe he'll want to help her leave. He can't wait until she leaves!” Katie accused.
His reply was a barely perceptible lift of shoulders.
She reached for her cell and hit speed dial. Warren answered on the first ring.
“Hi.”
“Is she leaving?” He didn't have to mention names.
Katie knew he was referring to Clara â and they weren't talking about garbage. They were talking about a woman in trouble.
“She's being moved practically as we speak.” She filled him in on the plan and how Ben thought it would work.
Silence. Then, “She's not coming back here, Katie.”
“Warren â ”
“I mean it. I wash my hands of the whole mess.”
Katie closed her eyes.
God, tenderize his heart. Not all
women are bad. Not all women are Clara or the woman who
hurt him. Grant me the ability to show him the difference.
“I know she's been a pain, and I'm deeply indebted to you for giving her shelter. After today, she won't be a problem.”
“I wash my hands of it, Katie. I left New York because of the hassle, and I don't want it brought here. That's what the shelter does â you do know that? This was a quiet town until you brought those women here.”
“I know. I'm sorry and I understand.” Though she didn't. Not one shred of this attitude. Warren assumed that all women were bad, that all women were out to hurt and fleece a man. Granted, Clara wasn't the warmest guest or as pure as the driven snow in deed and thought, but Katie encountered moments when she saw through the thick protective veneer to the real woman. Clara was just a woman who wanted what most women want. Love. Acceptance. Security and respect.
Katie glanced at Bobbi, who was clearly restless. “I have to go â would you like to come by the shelter tonight for dinner?” She owed him a good meal if nothing else. Maybe something homemade would soothe his frayed hackles. “We're having meatloaf.”
“Not tonight. I'm going to bed early.”
“We're having mashed potatoes too.”
His tone softened. “One night next week, I promise. And I promise to be in a better mood. I know I've been a jerk, Katie, but I can't stomach Clara or her kind. The incident has disturbed the whole town, and I'm sick of it.”
That he'd made evident.
“Sure, one night next week.” She hung up thinking she'd take what she could get so she could soften the man's irrational dislike of women.
God, you've sent me a work in progress, but that's okay. I'm
content with your choice and I thank you.