Reclaimed (15 page)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Suzanna tossed beneath her grandmother’s star quilt. Emotions rolled as her day replayed. Starting it with Paul felt like a new normal, a hopeful future. Something she’d given up on. She hated to feel needy, usually to the point of overcompensation, but with Paul ... well, he didn’t seem to mind. He seemed, in fact, to like it.

Not neediness, per se, but that she was coming to depend on him. Maybe a little too much. Which was the drop in the ride. Didn’t she tell herself she was done with the roller coaster?

But he believed in her. For no reason whatsoever, Paul Rustin believed she could do what she set her mind to. She’d starved the longing for that kind of affirmation a long time ago. Feeding it now flared resentment.

Find a dream you can actually accomplish, Suzanna. Work within reality.

Mother had never approved of anything. Her clothes, her hairstyle, her posture, her body, her choice in college studies.

Her marriage.

Nothing was ever good enough. Resentment and defeat became neighbors. Moving away hadn’t changed anything on the inside.

Sitting under Paul’s affirmation had set off a storm. The warmth of his friendly smile collided with the chill of the past, stirring up the anger she was trying so hard to calm. It shouldn’t be so. Why couldn’t she take his friendship, the approval he offered, and live with that? Why did she have to let the past interfere?

Tossing aside the star-patterned quilt, Suzanna set her feet on the cold wood floor. She glanced at her digital clock. Five thirty. She usually slept until eight on a Sunday, but closing her eyes allowed only images from years gone by to play afresh. She moved from her bed and set out for the kitchen.

She found the switch for the light overhead and flipped it on. Daddy’s binder lay on the table. Reaching for it, Suzanna rubbed her eyes and dropped onto a chair.

Cattle. Who would have thought? Daddy running cows in an unknown corner of Nebraska. Suzanna cracked a tiny smile. Daddy had always been one for surprises. Birthdays and Christmas were special because he made them so. Even with Mother frowning in the corner.

Maybe she
could
do it. With Paul’s guidance and some classes from the ag school, she could chase down this dream of her father’s. There
was
a market for healthier beef. She’d been among them—the consumers who checked labels for things like
certified organic
and
heart-healthy
. Jason’s strict diet required careful attention.

But what about growing fruit? That had been her hope since she’d been a girl. A dream she’d shared with her father. A dream her mother would not condone. Why had Daddy abandoned it?

Did it mean she had to let it go too?

“You going to my sister’s today, Pickle?” Paul caught Suzanna before she escaped through the front door. Had nearly chased her down through the church hallway. How many people had noticed?

Suzanna looked at the floor. He understood. It’d been a chilly morning inside Rock Creek Bible Church, and that had nothing to do with the weather. It made him want to stand up and deliver a sermon of his own. Why were people acting so ugly?

There was only one reason. Paul intended to put an end to it. He’d catch Stanton before he headed home.

“I think so.” Suzanna sighed and then summoned a smile. “You have the nicest family, Paul. You’re lucky.”

He dipped his head. Maybe he should just leave with Suz. She looked beaten.

Her gaze moved over his shoulder, and her eyes turned cold. “I’ll see you later.”

She did an about-face, her green dress twirling at her knees, then she moved across the rocks toward her Jeep. Paul checked behind him, catching a glimpse of Chuck striding the other way. His mind made up, he’d deal with it here, now.

“Stanton.”

The man stopped and turned, his feet set like he was ready to go down into a three-point stance. Paul pulled in a breath as he moved forward, feeling like he was coming to the line of scrimmage against a guy who was known to take cheap shots. Maybe because he was.

“We need to talk.” Paul rolled his shoulder straight and crossed his arms.

Chuck looped his thumbs into his pockets. “That so?”

“Yep.” Paul held the man’s stare, not even trying to push aside his irritation. “What’s this I hear about Suzanna stopping up the creek?”

“Dunno.” Chuck shrugged, his expression smug. “What do you hear?”

“Stop playing stupid, Stanton.” Paul took another step forward. “You and I both know where that story came from and why. Put an end to it.”

Chuck hiked up a brow and then laughed. “Put an end to it?” He shook his head, his steely eyes fixed against Paul’s. “You’re not understanding the situation, Rustin. You don’t have position on me. This isn’t going away, and it will only get worse. Whether you get dragged into it is up to you, so you’d better consider carefully before you cross the line.”

“Line’s done been crossed, Stanton.”

Chuck moved closer, using his height to talk down over Paul. “Get this clear, Paul. There are advantages to having a wife with a loose tongue. It doesn’t take but a few days to have a story spread all over town. From what I hear, you’ve been spending a whole lot of time over at Suzie’s. Your truck’s been spotted in her drive pretty early in the morning. Wouldn’t take but a slip of the tongue to turn speculation loose.”

Paul’s stomach rolled as heat swept over him. “She’s my neighbor and friend. There’s nothing else going on.”

Chuck smirked, and his laugh set Paul’s neck hairs on end. “Rustin, a story doesn’t have to be true to be told. The most prolific ones often aren’t. Just think on that. What would that do to your perfect reputation? Aren’t you up for elder right now?” He clicked his tongue. “Smear your integrity all over the windows of this quaint little church and break your mama’s heart all over again. You want that?”

“You and I both know my reputation’s far from perfect.” Paul’s muscles tensed as he balled his fists. “And lies always surface in the end. Leave Suzanna alone.”

“Or what?”

Paul swallowed. His heart beat against his ribs, and the urge to employ his fists kept his body taut. “Just leave her alone.”

Chuck’s eyebrows rose again. Paul returned his cold stare until Chuck spat, landing blackened saliva on Paul’s brown boots.

“Just so you know what you’re getting into.” He turned and sauntered away.

Paul watched him stride to his ridiculously tricked-out pickup. His jaw clenched until his face hurt. He couldn’t protect Suzanna from this. He could only hope the people of this town, more importantly, the people of his church, would trust his honor more than they did Stanton’s stories.

It didn’t seem likely.

“I’ve gotta head south this week.” Paul leaned back in the Adirondack chair, running a hand over his head.

“This week?” Dre sat forward. “I thought the sale wasn’t until the thirty-first.”

Paul sighed. The day had been overcast, fitting for his gray mood. The crisp air hinted snow, which would not work in his favor. Freezing mud was always miserable when it came to sorting and loading cows.

“I know. I’ve had to change my plans.” He slid forward, leaning his elbows on his knees. “I need to ask if you guys can wait until the end of November to sell the head you had intended to have go this month.”

Tom and Dre exchanged a glance.

“Sure,” Tom said. “Not a big deal.”

The crackling of the fire filled the night air. Paul stared at the flames as they danced in against the darkness. How bad would this get? He couldn’t put out all of the flames Stanton was capable of lighting. And he couldn’t protect Suzanna all of the time.

Next week, case in point. He’d be gone for at least four days. Stanton was sure to know it when he got wind of the sale on Saturday. Probably already did and was conniving something sinister.

Not to mention. . . Maybe he should bring it up with Tom and Dre. If nothing else, so they’d be prepared. Putting words to Chuck’s threat made his stomach turn though.

Dre stood and refilled her mug. “What’s going on, Paul?”

Paul bounced his fist on his chin, eyes still fixed on the fire. Might help for Tom and Dre to know how deep Suzanna’s troubles ran. But he couldn’t quite justify robbing Rodney of his dignity. Which would be exactly what would happen if word got around town about his situation.

“Stanton’s dead set on Suzanna’s place.” Paul looked to Dre and then Tom. “He’s stirring trouble, and he has a mighty big spoon to do it.”

“Does she need money?” Tom scooted to the edge of his chair. “Is that why you’re selling early?”

“No. Suz doesn’t need the money.”

Tom and Dre stared at him. He wasn’t making any sense, and their worry was climbing by the moment.

“Look, this stays here, okay?” Paul stood, tossing his cold coffee onto the lawn.

“Of course.” Tom answered, and Dre bounced her head.

“Rodney took a loan out a few years back to expand. He didn’t go through the bank though. He went straight through Chuck. Chuck called it in this week. Rodney has to have half the balance in by the end of the month.”

Dre dropped back into her chair. “What does this have to do with you or Suzanna?”

“Chuck’s mad at me.” Paul’s skin felt hot, and his voice turned intense. “He doesn’t want me helping Suzanna. I happened to drive by Suzanna’s when he was paying her a visit Monday. He all but threatened her and wasn’t very happy when I pulled up in the middle of it. Chuck doesn’t have anything on me, nothing to take me by the neck, so he’s going after the people I’m associated with. Starting with Rodney.”

Dre reached for Tom’s hand as worry turned to alarm in her eyes. “Is Suzanna in any danger?”

Paul jammed his hands into his hoodie pocket, wishing he knew. “I don’t know how far Chuck will go. Right now, he’s pretty underhanded. His reputation in town means maintaining his prime position at the bank, but he’s also crazy over this. He’s not letting it go, and I don’t understand why. He’s even started a ridiculous rumor about—”

“About Suzanna damming up the creek.” Tom finished before Paul could.

Their gazes collided, and Paul knew Tom understood the situation.

Dre’s questioning eyes focused on Tom.

“Jim Calloway came into the office on Wednesday all up in arms about it.” Tom said. “Said if she carried through with it, he might just reinstitute the lynching code.”