Jailbird (3 page)

“I don’t think the fish are going to just
grab hold of the line without some encouragement,” Charlie gingerly
caught her hook before it could snag him.

“That’s right. Do you want worms or
bugs?”

“Ewww,” Cara wrinkled her petite nose.

“Sorry sweetie, your daddy’s right… the fish
aren’t going to just jump out of the water at you. How about we
stick with bugs and I’ll bait your hook for you? Just this once,” I
promised.

Cara still looked skeptical but went along as
Charlie and I proceeded with our bug hunt. Once her hook was
baited, her father taught her how to cast. It was all very exciting
for 60 whole seconds. Then Cara got bored and went off to pick
wildflowers while Charlie manned her pole and his. She was quick to
rush back to claim the prize when her line got the first catch of
the day.

Charlie’s eyes met mine as she bounced with
excitement in between us. Something in them made my cheeks hot and
I quickly knelt to help Cara pull the hook out of her fish’s mouth.
Or rather, to do it for her because the first time she went to
touch the fish it began to flop on the line, eliciting a
squeal.

“That’s definitely a keeper,” I smiled and
placed it on my makeshift stringer. “You’ve officially contributed
to dinner.”

“Cool,” she beamed then darted off again.
Charlie shrugged and turned back to his own line. Mine was the next
to get a hit and Cara darted back to see the excitement. She was
off again once the lines were back in the water.

If I’d stopped to think about who I was, or
the fact that I didn’t know this man, I might not have enjoyed the
afternoon quite as much. But I didn’t want to think too hard about
anything just then. It was nice to feel the sun kissing my face and
the breeze caressing my skin.

I liked talking to Charlie. He was funny and
his voice made me feel happy. So maybe I was borrowing trouble, but
I let myself forget for one afternoon that we were anything other
than just an ordinary man and an ordinary woman.

I heard the rumble of a boat’s motor before I
saw the boat. Out of instinct, I froze, trying to figure out who
was heading our way.

“Looks like the game warden. You’d better get
your fishing license out,” Charlie put his pole down and pulled his
wallet out of his pocket.

“License?” Shoot. I hadn’t thought of that.
“We don’t exactly worry about that kind of thing where I’m from.
Can we just say you’ve had a good day?”

Charlie frowned a little at me as I
discreetly slid my gear into the thicket beside me. It was an
unexpected perk to using a branch for a fishing pole—it was easy to
hide.

“I don’t know…” he hesitated. I could see
that it would pain him to lie, but I wasn’t about to wind up back
in prison because I’d been caught fishing. Without giving him much
time to mull it over, I darted off to find Cara. Maybe she needed
help picking flowers. Of course, maybe I needed a permit for that,
too, in this crazy place.

The sound of voices drifted our way. I
couldn’t make out the words, but the tone seemed friendly enough.
Then the voices stopped. The boat left but I found myself too
chicken to go see what had been said. Turns out I didn’t have to.
It wasn’t long at all until a rather stern-faced Charlie appeared
with a stringer-full of fish and three handmade fishing poles.

It was obvious he’d talked his way out of any
potential trouble, but wasn’t too thrilled with me for having to do
so. Cara didn’t seem to notice the tension that had arisen between
her father and me. She kept up a steady course of chatter the
entire way back to the Torres house.

“Look at all the fish we caught,” she proudly
announced before she was fully out of the car.

“That’s some catch,” Manny whistled
appreciatively. “Do you want me to clean those for you?”

“I’ve got it,” I waved him off as I took the
stringer from Cara. “All of you rest. I’ll cook dinner
tonight.”

“I can help,” Anjelita rose
instinctively.

“I mean it. I can do this. Consider it some
small measure of payment for your kindness.”

“You owe us nothing,” Anjelita frowned a
little as if worried she had somehow given me the impression I was
indebted to them.

“Maybe in your eyes I don’t, but I’d feel
better nonetheless,” I patted her hand in reassurance. I could feel
Charlie’s eyes boring into my back. My reluctance to meet a game
warden had certainly raised his suspicions. I tried to come to
terms with the fact that I would probably have to move on again
now. It made me a little angry. I told myself it shouldn’t, that he
was just being a good friend. But it irritated me anyway. I squared
my shoulders and took my stringer of fish into the kitchen.

It occurred to me that most women seem to
have the same sense of organization as I was able to easily
maneuver Anjelita’s kitchen. It didn’t take long before I had the
fish on to fry, some potatoes boiling and some cornbread in the
oven. I wondered what it would be like to have a kitchen like this.
What would it feel like to have a family to care for every
night?

Then I let my mind wander down an even more
agonizing path… what if I had married one of the boys on the
reservation instead of heading off to LSU? I knew Ben was getting
serious about me. I’d known and I’d left anyway. What would our
babies look like if I had married him?

Thinking about the reservation filled me with
a longing to see my home and, more importantly, my brother. I could
see his dark eyes dancing merrily with mischief. I could almost
hear the deep rumble of his laughter. He was all Coushatta; strong
and tall and proud. As I put the piping hot fish on the serving
plate, I missed him so much tears burned my eyes.

So naturally, it was at that moment Charlie
entered the kitchen to see if I needed help. I thrust the platter
at him and whirled back to the stove, hoping he missed the pained
look on my face. He stood there long enough I was pretty sure he
hadn’t missed it. Still, I stubbornly ignored him as I pulled the
bread out of the oven and put the potatoes in a bowl.

“Fine. Just fine,” he finally sighed and
stomped off. I wasn’t exactly sure what he expected from me. Was I
supposed to fall in his arms and confess my deepest secrets to him?
A stranger?

The profuse compliments the dinner received
were tainted by the hostility that seemed to be rolling off of
Charlie. I guess that was just as well. I was sending a few hostile
vibes his way, too.

The other adults picked up on it but were
nice enough to not say anything. I tried not to let Charlie spoil
what was looking to be my last meal with the Torres family. I’d
come to adore them already, but if someone was questioning me then
it was time to move on.

After the dishes were cleared away and the
Russells had gone home, I was sure to get a shower before bed. Who
knew how long it would be until I had a chance to get another one.
As much as I wanted to throw away the baggy clothes I’d stolen off
a clothesline in Louisiana, I knew I needed all the clothing I
could get right now. So I washed them out in the sink and hung them
on the back porch railing to dry.

Mamá Torres went to a friend’s house, Isabel
went to bed and her parents sat on the porch swing to hold hands
and watch the fireflies dance. I pretended to go to sleep on the
couch.

As I lay there, I formulated a plan in my
mind. I’d get an early start and go back to the woods I’d seen that
day. I knew what mushrooms and herbs were edible. I could harvest
some and sell them. If I took the fishing line from the poles, I
might be able to find the right stones to make some jewelry to
sell.

I wasn’t too far away from the Ozark
Mountains. Maybe I could find some little town nestled in the hills
and start fresh there. Or I could go west. I’d always wanted to see
the west. Only next time I would remember that you needed a license
to do just about anything. I wouldn’t be so careless next time.

Those are the thoughts that finally lulled me
to sleep that night. But it was Charlie that haunted me while I
slept. Golden-green eyes seemed more binding than any manmade
chain. Instead of bestowing me with kind smiles, the lips in my
dreams set a fire blazing in my belly as they met mine.

After tossing and turning all night and even
falling off the couch once, I woke the next morning tired and
unsettled. I’d intended to take off before anyone else was awake
but Anjelita was already sitting at the kitchen table having a
quiet cup of coffee. I poured myself a cup and sat down across from
her. Silence hung in the air like the morning mist as we both
stared at the mugs in our hands.

“Sometimes I wonder what you are running
from,” Anjelita began softly. “But then I remind myself that it is
your story to tell. I don’t know what Charlie did or said to make
you want to run again, but I do want you to know you are safe with
us.”

“I don’t deserve the kindness you are showing
me,” I couldn’t meet her eyes. What would she say if she knew she’d
let a convicted murderer near her child? Would her kind eyes then
fill with hatred?

“None of us deserve grace. That’s what makes
it beautiful,” Anjelita reached out to take my hand in hers. “You
are free to do as you wish, of course. But I hope you stay. Let us
help you find your way here. I know we have little to offer, but I
welcome you as a sister in my home.”

“Why do you care so much?” I could only
whisper.

“To be honest, I don’t know why. But I do.
Everything in me is saying that you just need a chance—someone to
shelter you from the storm while you find your path.”

“I don’t think Charlie likes me much,” I
struggled to reconcile what I wanted with what I felt I must
do.

“I wouldn’t worry yourself too much about
that. If I had to guess, I’d say Charlie likes you and doesn’t know
what to make of it.”

“I seriously doubt that,” I tried not to
snort in derision at the thought. I’m not sure I was all that
successful. “So assume I do stay for just a little while, what are
your expectations of me? I mean, should I keep going to work with
you? Find a job in town? Do you care?”

“Today, I’d like you to go to church with us,
if you will. Then we observe a day of rest. After that, I expect
you to use this chance to make a life for yourself. How you do that
is up to you.”

Huh. After ten years of being told when to
eat and when to sleep and what to wear and how to spend each
day—with no hope for there ever being a time it might be
different—I wasn’t quite sure what to make of Anjelita’s
proclamation. But I did know it was worth the risk.

Chapter Four

It felt a little wrong having a whole day
with nothing to do but enjoy the company of those around me. I’d
gone to church with the Torres family because it made Anjelita
happy. And it was an excuse to wear the cotton dress. I hadn’t worn
a dress in a really long time. It was cool and comfortable on my
skin. I didn’t care that it was worn. I still felt more like a girl
in it.

To say people were curious about me at that
little church would be an understatement. Most people openly
gawked. They were nice enough when introduced, but it made me
uncomfortable just the same.

And then there were the single women. Venom
rolled off of them in waves when they saw Charlie slide into the
pew next to me. Cara squeezed my neck enthusiastically. I could
have told the jealous felines not to worry so much. Charlie might
have complimented my dress, but the terse tone he did it in took
away from the words themselves.

I began to wonder if I was destined for a
special kind of hell. Not only was I an escaped convict and a
thief, but I spent the entire church service intensely aware of the
man sitting next to me. He smelled really good. And there was this
amazing kind of heat that seemed to radiate off of him. I could
feel it the most in the places our skin almost touched. When we
accidentally made contact because we placed our hands on the pew in
front of us at the same time, I couldn’t control the impulse to
snatch my hand back.

I hadn’t believed Anjelita when she’d
insisted Charlie saw me as a woman. But the way his breath now came
in jagged gulps made me think maybe he was as befuddled as I was. I
tried to remind myself that he was on the other side of a chasm I
couldn’t cross. But with my arm getting goose bumps because it was
near his, he seemed awfully reachable to me.

After church, Charlie was reserved but no
longer hostile. It irked me a little that he seemed so calm. I felt
like I’d just gotten off the tilt-a-whirl.

Lunch was sandwiches and lemonade on
Charlie’s wraparound porch. I almost wish I hadn’t seen his
picture-perfect farmhouse, or its chicken coop, or the mares
grazing in the field behind the house. It made me feel weird, being
able to picture myself in his world.

Before the plates had been cleared, Cara and
Isabel had me by the hand dragging me out to meet Daisy and
Princess Tiger Lily. Daisy was nearly white with tinges of gray on
her muzzle and legs. Princess Tiger Lily was a bright bay pony. I
wondered if I should be offended that the red horse with a black
mane and tale was named after a Native American princess from a
children’s movie. It was obvious Cara meant it as a high honor,
though. She clearly doted on the animal.

By the time Anjelita came to tell us the
homemade ice cream was ready, I’d taught the girls how to make
dandelion chains and we were all three adorned in crowns of
yellow.

The summer breeze toyed with my hair while
the sun kissed my cheek. The ice cream was heaven to my taste buds.
Laughter bubbled like a brook all around me. It was a serene moment
of perfection.

Unbidden, images of the previous summer
flashed through my mind. Sweaty and aching after long days of
laboring in the sun, tempers would flare each evening. Mary’s
friendship had probably saved my life on more than one of those
evenings. It had certainly saved my sanity.