“Pull him out, Liss! Don’t jump it!” Cammie was yelling across the ring.
With Lissa still seesawing on her reins and calling out “Whooaaaa!” the red horse sprang over the fence, shaking his head as he lifted off the ground. Silvano heard the cracking and splintering of the wood as the horse’s hooves knocked into the fence and it stumbled in midair, jerking oddly to the side and throwing Lissa full force into one of the thick wooden posts holding the poles. She hit it with a thud and collapsed to the ground. The horse went down on its knees, struggled, and then regained its balance, coming to a halt a few feet away.
“Lissa!” Cammie said, hurrying to where Lissa had fallen. “Liss, you okay?”
Silvano rushed out of the bleachers, ducked under the railing, and knelt down beside Lissa. For a few seconds he thought she had been knocked unconscious. Then she groaned and opened her eyes.
“Where does it hurt, Liss?” Cammie asked.
Dazed, she said nothing for a few seconds. Then she murmured, “Just got the breath knocked out of me. I’ll be fine.” She tried to sit up, winced, then gave a sharp cry.
“Where does it hurt?” Cammie repeated.
“My shoulder and my wrist.”
“I think we need to get you to the emergency room.” Cammie looked over at Silvano.
“I’ll get my car.”
As he hurried off, he heard Lissa’s plea: “Cammie, please don’t tell my father.”
There was no way to hide Lissa’s injuries when she arrived home late on Sunday evening with her left wrist in a cast and her shoulder bandaged.
“He’s gonna kill me, Silvano. Kill me.”
“Tell me how I can help.”
Lissa’s eyes had lost every bit of spunk. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do.”
Mr. Randall opened the front door as soon as he heard the car in the driveway, and hurried down the flagstone steps. “Where have you been? I thought you said you’d be back hours ago.” Then he noticed her bandaged arm. “What happened to you, Lissa?”
“Just a little accident, Dad. Nothing serious. I just need to get inside and sit down.”
In the entrance hall, Gary Randall turned an angry face to Silvano. “Was it a car accident? What happened?”
With a tone of complete resignation, Lissa said, “No, Dad. Silvano had nothing to do with it. I fell off of Caleb.”
Her father’s roar reverberated throughout the house. “What? You went to the barn?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You are not allowed to ride! Not allowed! How could you?”
Lissa’s eyes flashed fury at her father, but then she turned them down.
Silvano ventured to speak. “She’s nineteen, sir. Isn’t that a little old to be telling her what she can and cannot do?”
“You stay out of this! You have no idea! No idea!”
His face red with rage, Mr. Randall paced back and forth in the den. “I told you it was dangerous! I knew this would happen! Knew it!”
Finally he went into the kitchen, picked up the phone, and dialed a number. Silvano heard him blasting Cammie in a monologue that went on and on.
“You call that girl in Virginia, and you sell that horse,” he stormed. “Do you understand? Get him out of here!”
Lissa sank down on the steps with Silvano beside her.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked again.
“Nothing, Silvano. There’s nothing you can do.” Her face was chalky white.
“I could help you get out of those boots.”
She gave a half grin. “Yeah. That would be great.”
He pulled each boot off as Lissa braced herself on the stairs with her good arm. “Thanks.”
“Can you manage? Will he help you?”
She winced as she stood back up and nodded. “I’ll be okay. Don’t worry.” She paused on the first step and added, “Thank you for everything— for taking me to the barn, for waiting at the ER. I’m so sorry.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow.”
She nodded, and he watched her climb the stairway with the angry voice of her father still punctuating the air.
________
Failure! Failure! All your fault!
Lissa lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. She let the voices taunt her, a horrible throbbing ache in her heart that matched in every way the stabbing pain in her wrist and shoulder. She reached with difficulty and opened the little drawer beside the bed. The pills were still there, all thirty-two of them, prescribed by a doctor months ago to help her sleep. She had not thought of them since she had started taking driving lessons.
There would be no more driving lessons, at least not for four weeks, the time it would take for the shoulder and wrist to heal. Nor could she ride Caleb. Every rider knew that the secret to overcoming a nasty spill was to get back on the horse as soon as possible. But if her father had his way, in a matter of days she would not have a horse to get on.
Eyes still open, she let the scenes collide in her mind—Ole Bessie’s tires screeching on the interstate and Caleb crashing into the fence.
Lissa, I know you hate failure. I know you’re scared of it. But failure is just a stepping-stone to success. It’s not the final story.
A stepping-stone to success! Ha!
Failure!
She took the bottle out of the drawer and held it in her hand. She had other medication now as well, which the doctor at the ER had given her, tucked in a foil-lined wrapper and lying beside the Bible on the bedside table. Hope and despair—right there together, tempting her.
Mix the pills all together and swallow them down. That should do the trick.
Was it Ev MacAllister’s words or Silvano’s black eyes that kept her from doing it? Her father wouldn’t mind if she disappeared off the planet. He hadn’t even come upstairs to check on her.
She put the bottle back in the drawer, then she punched one tablet out of the foil and examined the tiny cylinder between her fingers before swallowing it down.
“This should help the pain,” the doctor had said.
Oh, no, sir, it won’t. Nothing will help the pain.
Sleep eluded her.
Sometime later she heard her father enter the room and walk to her bed.
“Lissa?” he whispered, but she kept her eyes closed. His hand brushed her forehead. Still she did not open her eyes. She heard his breathing, heavier than usual, and imagined him towering over the bed, wondering what in the world to do. At length, he turned and left. She heard the click of the door as he closed it and then his heavy steps on the stairs.
________
Jet lag was long over, and it was time to face reality. Reality, in fact, sat on the desk in front of Katy Lynn in the form of two manila envelopes. One held divorce papers from Hamilton. The other held photos, plenty of photos, of Hamilton with the other woman. At least the photos were safe in her house, not displayed on the front page of the
Atlanta Journal
. At least not yet.
“Gina got to see Hamilton three or four times while you were gone. I know that’s hard to hear, but I think it really did her good.”
That piece of information, offered by Ellen Lewis, had done nothing to calm Katy Lynn’s already shattered nerves. It would be just like Hamilton to try to turn their daughter against her. She felt her temples pulsing as if they would explode. She wanted to kill him. She wanted to drag him through so much mud that he’d never be able to hold his head up in Buckhead society again!
What are you hoping for, Katy Lynn? Are you really looking for a fight and a way to ruin Hamilton’s reputation, or do you want to go through this in the least painful way possible, trying to preserve some type of peace for you and Gina?
She dialed Janelle’s number for the fourth time in the eight days she’d been home. Her sister answered on the second ring.
“
Oui, allô?”
“Nelli, it’s me. Are you alone?”
“Katy Lynn! Yes.”
“Brian’s not there?”
“No, he’s at the office.”
“And the kids?”
“They’re still at school. What is it?”
“Back away from the phone.”
“What?”
“Back away from the phone, but don’t hang up.”
“Katy … okay …”
Holding the phone away from her, Katy Lynn screamed her lungs out. “
I hate him! I hate him
and I am going to
kill
him!” She let out a string of curse words she hadn’t pronounced since her father grounded her for three weeks in the tenth grade.
She imagined Janelle’s startled expression in the silence that followed the outburst. Finally her sister came back on the line. “Wow, Kat! I guess that’s what’s called venting.”
“Sorry, Nelli. I needed to get that out. I had a choice between calling you or grabbing a kitchen knife and going after Hamilton.”
Janelle gave a harsh chuckle. “You made the right decision. Glad I could be of help.”
Katy Lynn whispered, “I think I’m losing my mind, Nel.”
“Yes, I can well imagine you do. I’m so sorry.” There was a pause, then, “For completely different reasons, I know what that feels like. It’s horrible.”
“I’m trying to take things one day at a time.”
“You’re right. It’ll get better, eventually.”
“But there are so many decisions to make now.” Katy Lynn gave a long sigh. “Just keep praying for me, Nel. Please.”
What a silly thing to say, and yet somehow she needed to be assured of their prayers.
“You know we are, Katy. And thanks to your gift, I’ll be coming over soon. Your giving that money for my ticket was such a confirmation. Thank you so much.”
“You’ve said that enough, Janelle. It was really my pleasure.”
“Brian purchased the ticket yesterday. I’m flying into Atlanta on Thursday. Could I spend the first two nights with you and Gina?”
Katy Lynn actually laughed out loud. “I can’t think of any better news you could have given me at this moment, Nelli. That will be great.”
When she hung up, Katy Lynn went and washed her face, reapplied her makeup, and hurried out the door for her luncheon at the club. She felt new strength to face her friends. They did not need to know yet. Janelle was coming. Together they would figure out what to do next.
________
Lissa hadn’t slept a wink the night before, between the pain in her shoulder and wrist and the voices in her head. At eight o’clock she called Mrs. Rivers and explained what had happened.
“Heavens, child! You stay home and rest. Rest!”
Maybe her body needed rest, but her mind needed to keep busy. Otherwise she might go down a very dangerous path.
Her father had brought her breakfast before he left for the office. He’d even offered to stay home with her, but her seething “No thanks” had chased him away.
A tray with a glass of orange juice and a cup of soggy cereal sat on top of the Bible. Throughout the morning she kept looking at the orange juice, wondering how many pills she could gulp down with that one glass of liquid. Not many. She forced herself to stay in bed, away from the sink with the running water. Thankfully she dozed off and on.
Ev MacAllister’s calling card sat beside the Bible. She’d used it as a bookmark for
Eastern Crossings
. Seeing it lying there, she thought back to that day in September when she had chosen to dial his number instead of swallow the pills. Well, here she was again.
Her father had set the phone by her bed in case she needed to call him. She didn’t need him, but she had to make a call. With a shaking hand, she dialed the MacAllisters’ number. When Mr. MacAllister answered, she whispered, “Is there any way you can come get me?”
“Lissa? Lissa, is that you?”
“Yes. Yes, it’s me. I had an accident yesterday and broke my wrist and shoulder, so I can’t drive. I’m not at work. But … but I just …” She tried to clear her throat. “I’m having some bad thoughts… .”
“We’ll be there in thirty minutes, Lissa.”
She could hold on for thirty minutes. Surely she could do that. Thirty minutes and then maybe, just maybe, hope would walk back through the door.
________
Ev sat in a chair he had dragged over, and Annie perched right on the bed beside Lissa, holding her good hand.
“Dear me, child, what have you done?” That was Annie’s first reaction.
“I fell off my horse.”
“Ah,” Ev said. “The horse that your father doesn’t let you ride?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
Annie had fluffed up several pillows so that Lissa sat up straight in bed, her bad arm lying across her lap.
Annie asked, “How did that happen?
Lissa shrugged. “I, I made a stupid mistake in judgment, and Caleb crashed a fence.”
“And so your father found out about everything?”
“Yep, and he flipped. He’s gonna sell Caleb for sure now.”
Lissa was nibbling on her bottom lip, and her face was white. She looked again like the skinny teen Ev had met back in September, alone, frightened, anemic.
He said, “I imagine you aren’t feeling too great about yourself right now.”
Head still turned down, Lissa raised her eyes to meet Ev’s. “I feel like this past week has been one huge step backward, and I’ll never get any better. I … I’m having really dark thoughts.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Lissa. Can you tell me about them?”
“I hate my father,” she whispered. “But I hate myself more. I just wish I could escape from all of this.”
“How would you escape?”
“I’d stop existing.”
Ev watched Annie gently squeeze Lissa’s hand and softly rub her back. Lissa didn’t shed a tear, but she looked destroyed.
“I know you’ll say that all these failures are stepping-stones, Mr. MacAllister, but it doesn’t feel that way. It feels like I should just give up.”
With another pat, Annie said, “We’re here to make sure you don’t.”
________
When Annie offered to help her bathe, Lissa accepted. The older woman had an easy way about her, direct, self-assured but with a gentle streak, as if she was used to helping out suicidal young women. Sitting in a chair with her head leaning back over the sink, Lissa let Annie wash her hair. The warm water running over her scalp felt soothing, as did the way Annie massaged it.
Annie then filled the tub with water and helped Lissa into it. “My goodness, child, you’re black and blue.”
Self-conscious, Lissa nodded in agreement. Angry bruises covered the left side of her body. “It was a pretty bad fall.”