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“They are if you start thinking those kinds of events are the most important things in life,” Raylene said. “I was so determined to make my mother and grandparents happy, I forgot what mattered to me. And let’s not forget that was the night I met Paul Hammond and sealed my fate with that louse.”
Paul had been older, a medical student, in fact, but he’d come to the party as a date for a plain Jane cousin whose partner had bailed on her. He’d spent the entire evening flirting with Raylene, whose own dull date was the grandson of friends of her grandparents.
By the end of the evening she’d been smitten, and despite the difference in ages, her grandparents and even her mother had encouraged the match. Her father had clearly disapproved, but he hadn’t gone against his wife’s wishes. She and Paul had married soon after she turned eighteen, while he was serving his medical internship.
The stress of his demanding training had been the excuse for all the times he’d lost his temper with her. After a while he hadn’t bothered with excuses for what began as verbal attacks and escalated over time into more violent behavior.
The marriage had been a horror show, all the more terrifying because on the few occasions when she’d tried to tell her mother what was happening, her fears had been dismissed. She’d been told she was overreacting, and that all marriages hit rough patches. Too many times she’d been reminded of all the advantages that would come with being married to a successful doctor from a prominent Charleston family. Her relationship with her mother had been permanently damaged by Raylene’s discovery that she couldn’t count on her mother when it mattered.
Not wanting to dwell in the past, Raylene shook off the memories and took another sip of her margarita. “Let’s not go there,” she said as the others nodded readily and lifted their glasses.
“I propose a toast to Raylene and a brighter future,” Sarah said. “Do you mind if I tell them about tomorrow?”
“What’s happening tomorrow?” Helen asked.
“Dr. McDaniels is coming here to determine if I have a panic disorder of some kind that keeps me from leaving the house,” Raylene told them. “I guess we’ll find out if I’m nuts or just lazy.”
“You’re not either one,” Sarah said fiercely. “Stop saying things like that.”
“I agree,” Dana Sue said, crossing the room to give Raylene a hug. “I’m so glad you’re finally seeing her. She was a godsend to Annie, wasn’t she, sweetie?”
Annie nodded. “I’d probably be dead if not for her. I still rely on her guidance from time to time when I get scared that I’m falling into my old eating pattern. Fortunately, right now, I seem to be eating all the time. And nursing Meg seems to keep me from gaining an ounce.”
Any mention of Annie’s baby was enough to make Raylene feel a deep sense of sorrow for the baby she’d lost. Even though she’d only been in her first trimester, the baby had already been real to her. When she’d started bleeding and had miscarried just days after one of Paul’s beatings, it had been worse than anything else she’d suffered at his hands. The only blessing that had come from that awful tragedy was that she’d finally found the strength to leave him and end her marriage.
Annie gave her hand a squeeze, her expression sympathetic. Though Raylene had never mentioned losing her child to Annie, she knew Sarah had probably told her. It was one secret she was relieved not to have to talk about herself.
“Your turn will come,” Annie whispered. “I know it.”
Raylene regarded her sadly. “I’m just glad to be here with friends. I don’t need miracles.”
“But you deserve one,” Annie insisted. “And something tells me one is just around the corner.”
When Raylene saw the sheriff’s cruiser pull to a stop in front of the house, her heart climbed into her throat. She thought of Annie’s words the night before and had to choke back a laugh. Surely this wasn’t the miracle Annie had had in mind for her. She knew what the man now identified as Carter Rollins thought of her. Travis had told Sarah of their conversation, and Sarah, fit to be tied, had told Raylene after last night’s Sweet Magnolias gathering.
She watched as he crossed the front lawn with long strides and a look of purpose on his face. Was it possible he’d found some crime with which to charge her? Could he do that without Travis and Sarah wanting him to? She barely resisted the desire to grab the phone and call Helen for advice before opening the door to him.
Instead, though, she stood tall and waited. One thing she knew all too well was how to put on a facade when she was feeling scared or out of her element. She’d put on more shows in public during her pitiful marriage than any actress in a Broadway production. The minute the doorbell rang, she swung open the door and offered him her brightest smile.
“Deputy Rollins, I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon. Did you stop by to check on Tommy and Libby?” she asked, seizing the initiative. “They’re taking their naps right now. I can assure you they’re in their beds, right where they belong. Laurie, the babysitter, is in the den.” She leveled a knowing look directly into his eyes. “Feel free to check if you don’t believe me.”
To his credit, he flushed ever so slightly. He removed his sunglasses, revealing hazel eyes with emerald flecks. He fiddled nervously with the glasses. “Actually I was around the corner on a call and thought I’d come by to offer you the apology I think I owe you.”
“Oh?”
“I misjudged you the other day,” he admitted, looking uncomfortable.
“Did you really?”
His lips twitched a little at her response. “I’m sure you know all about it, because Mr. McDonald was pretty indignant on your behalf.”
“He might have mentioned something about a conversation the two of you had, though he told his wife, not me,” she admitted. “Sarah filled me in.”
He nodded. “I had a feeling it would work something like that, Serenity being the kind of town it is. As Mr. McDonald informed me, folks here look after their own.”
“We certainly try to,” she agreed. She decided he’d squirmed enough and let her ingrained manners kick in. Southern women were always ready to offer a cool drink, if not an entire spread of food, at a moment’s notice. “Could I offer you some coffee? Maybe a glass of lemonade or some sweet tea? It’s another scorcher out there today. There are cookies, too, if the kids haven’t gotten to them today.”
He looked a bit startled by the invitation. “You sure?”
She gave him a thoughtful survey that brought more color to his cheeks. “Well, despite the fact that you’re wearing a gun, you don’t look all that dangerous to me, so yes, I’m sure.”
“I just thought maybe me being a stranger would make you nervous.”
“It’s not people who terrify me,” she found herself saying. “It’s everything outside this house.” She gave him a wry look. “Crazy, isn’t it, since I grew up in this town and all my problems were over in Charleston.”
“What kind of problems, if you don’t mind me asking? Travis said something about domestic violence.”
Raylene hesitated. Her disastrous marriage wasn’t something she liked to talk about to anyone, much less a stranger. If he knew about the abuse, he knew more than enough.
“It’s in the past, and I don’t like to talk about it,” she said. “Now, about that coffee, are you interested?”
“The lemonade sounds better,” he said, then followed her inside.
In the kitchen, she gestured for him to take a seat, then poured two tall glasses of lemonade over ice and handed one to him. She put an assortment of chocolate-chip and oatmeal cookies on a plate and set it on the table, then took a seat herself. Only a trained observer might notice that she sat on the edge of the chair and a safe distance away, rather than relaxing. She had a hunch that Carter noticed.
Calling on her once-instinctive social graces, she said, “Are you new to Serenity? I know you weren’t in school with us, and you seem to be about the same age.”
“I moved here a few months ago when I hired on as a deputy. It seemed like a good place to raise kids.”
His response surprised her. She’d automatically checked for a wedding band and there hadn’t been one. Of course, as she knew all too well from her philandering ex-husband, some men were adept at hiding rings when it suited their purposes. Or he could be divorced or even a widower.
“How many children do you have?” she asked.
“None of my own, but my two younger sisters are living with me. They’re fourteen and almost sixteen. Our parents died a couple of years back. We stuck it out in Columbia for a while, but I liked the idea of a small town. When a job opened up here this spring, I grabbed it. I’m hoping they’ll get in less trouble here than they might have in the city.”
Raylene chuckled, thinking of some of the mischief she, Annie and Sarah had gotten into as teenagers. “Trust me, if girls want to get into trouble, they can do it anywhere.”
He regarded her with an impudent grin. “Do tell. Just what kind of trouble did you get yourself into? If I go into the computer, will I find a dark criminal past?”
“Hardly,” she said, then grinned. “We were far too clever to get caught.”
“Really?”
She thought back over her high school years and chose one of many incidents. “Really. For instance, there was one memorable slumber party when we let boys sneak in,” she confided. “Annie’s mom, Dana Sue Sullivan…” Her voice trailed off.
“The owner of the restaurant,” he guessed.
“Exactly. She about had a fit over that one. Of course, the fact that Annie collapsed that night and wound up in the hospital pretty much trumped whatever trouble we probably would have gotten in over inviting the boys to the party.”
“What happened to Annie?”
She hesitated at talking about Annie’s personal business, but then everyone in town already knew the story. “She had anorexia. It nearly killed her.” She waved off the subject and grinned. “As for the mischief we got ourselves into, I’m sure I could tell a few other stories, if I racked my brain. And most of the teachers at the high school could probably add a dozen or more.”
He looked a little pale as he shook his head. “I’ll definitely keep that slumber party scam in mind when Carrie—she’s the fifteen-year-old—tells me she wants to spend the night with a friend. I had no idea teenage girls were so sneaky.”
“The ones I knew certainly were,” she told him.
He smiled, causing an unexpected bump in her heart rate. Then his expression sobered.
“May I ask you a personal question?” he said.
“Sure.”
“Travis mentioned something about you not being able to leave the house. Is that true?”
She nodded. Whatever embarrassment she’d once felt over her problem had faded as people in town had come to accept that if they wanted to spend time with her, they had to do it here.
“When I first came back to town, I was able to sit on the back patio. I was so relieved to be someplace safe that I didn’t realize at first that leaving here was even an issue.”
“Makes sense,” he said.
“Then, after a couple of months of healing physically and mentally, I tried going out with Sarah and Annie,” she said ruefully. “I never made it past the driveway before I’d break out in a cold sweat. My heart would start racing so fast, I was sure I was going to pass out. After that happened a few times, well, I hate to admit it, but I just stopped trying. Eventually it got so bad, I couldn’t even take a step outside.”
“Why’d you give up?”
The question was simple, but the answer was complicated. Raylene wasn’t sure she could explain it. “I suppose it just seemed easier,” she said eventually. She shrugged. “And there was no place I really needed to be, nothing I really wanted to do.”
Carter looked unconvinced. “You’re content to make this house enough for the rest of your life?” he asked incredulously.
“I suppose I haven’t let myself think long term. Right now, when I consider leaving here, the fear outweighs the joy of whatever might be out there. Forever’s not a concept I can grapple with.”
“What about the yard, at least? Can you go outside that far?”
“You know that I can’t,” she responded, meeting his gaze. “You saw me frozen in place on the top step the other day. If I could have gone farther, believe me, I would have. Knowing Tommy was somewhere out there and I couldn’t look for him was horrible. I’ve never felt so helpless in my life.” She regarded him with curiosity. “Why does this matter to you? Are you that worried about the kids? Because if that’s it, you can stop. I will never have the responsibility for looking after them again.”
“For their sake, I’m relieved to hear that,” he admitted candidly. “But it strikes me as sad that you might not get to experience all that life has to offer. You’re a young, beautiful woman. You’re smart and funny. Seems to me it’s a waste to stay hidden away here.” He frowned. “Don’t you even want to get better?”
“I doubt you can understand this, but getting better, leaving this house, seems to mean more to other people right now than it does to me. I feel safe here. I love being with Sarah’s kids. People come and go all the time, and that’s what matters. I’m not alone or lonely.”
“There must have been things you enjoyed before the panic attacks started,” he protested. “Don’t you miss at least some of them?”
Raylene thought about it. She wondered if maybe this whole cycle of fear and panic hadn’t started even while she’d been married. It wasn’t that her home had been a safe haven. Far from it, in fact. But in it, she had been free of the speculation that would have spread had people in her social circle ever spotted her with the kind of bruises that had been inflicted too many times to count.
Back then she’d lived a solitary life in many ways, living for quiet moments in the garden, where she’d nurtured her fragile plants the way she’d longed for someone to nurture her. Thinking about that brought on an overwhelming sense of nostalgia.
“I miss my garden,” she said softly, closing her eyes as she remembered it—purple, white and magenta azaleas in spring, a sea of tulips, then hollyhocks, summer phlox, golden lilies, shaded beds of impatiens and a tinkling waterfall amid a fragrant collection of rosebushes.
“Planting flowers, watching the yard fill with color, even pulling the weeds. The doggone honeysuckle nearly drove me mad, but it smelled so sweet, I even loved that. And I loved the way the sun felt on my shoulders.”
In the year before she’d finally ended her marriage, she’d stopped gardening. Even now she shuddered at the memory of the rampage her husband had gone on, destroying all her hard work, leaving the rosebushes ruined, the flowers wilted and dying in a chaotic heap before he was done. In some ways, his savage attack on her garden had hurt as much as any of the physical attacks she’d endured.
Even after all this time tears filled her eyes at the memory. Suddenly she felt a warm, solid hand covering hers.
“I’m sorry,” Carter said, his expression apologetic. “I shouldn’t have pushed you. This is really none of my business.”
She forced a smile. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”
She said the words, maybe even managed to sound convincing, but the truth was, she was anything but fine. The memories had touched a place deep inside that she’d almost buried and left her filled with longing.
The minute Carter Rollins left, she sank down on the sofa to await the arrival of Dr. McDaniels, relieved that she’d finally made the call, even as she was dreading what the psychologist might tell her.
Because if Carter Rollins had done nothing else with his well-timed visit and probing questions, he’d reminded her that there was a life outside these four walls—even if only as far as the backyard—that truly might be worth fighting for.
4 (#ulink_f5514870-fd7a-532f-93aa-156872327d67)
Dr. McDaniels was a thin woman in her fifties with a hint of gray threading through her short dark hair. She had the kind of reassuring smile that invited confidences and a warmth in her eyes that suggested compassion. Though Raylene had only crossed paths with her casually years ago during Annie’s hospitalization, she immediately felt comfortable with her.
“Thank you for agreeing to come here,” Raylene said as she led the way into the living room. “The sitter’s taken the kids to the park, so we won’t be interrupted.”
“Under the circumstances, I’m happy to come here,” Dr. McDaniels said. “Hopefully we can figure out what’s going on and determine the right treatment. If we can accomplish that, it won’t be long before you can come to me.”
“I don’t know,” Raylene said skeptically. “I haven’t left this house in a very long time.”
“How long?”
“I first moved in here right after I left Charleston. Back then, I could at least sit out back in the evening, but eventually even that got to be too much. I suppose it’s been a year or more since I’ve left at all.”
“Have you tried?”
Raylene shook her head. “Once I was back in Serenity and inside this house, it was like I’d used up every bit of bravery I had. I saw this as my safe haven. Thankfully I didn’t have to go back for my husband’s sentencing. He’d pleaded no contest once the D.A. showed him my deposition, along with the medical records that documented how many times I’d been to various emergency rooms, plus the condition I was in the night I lost my baby. Though the prosecutor opted not to charge him in the baby’s death, Paul didn’t want the whole messy incident coming out in court and causing an even bigger scandal for his family. The plea bargain lessened his sentence, as well.”
There was no visible reaction on the doctor’s face as Raylene reported the abuse that had driven her home to Serenity. “How long were you married?” she asked.
“Too long,” Raylene said fervently.
“And you were abused throughout the marriage?”
Humiliated, Raylene nodded. “It was mostly verbal at first, temper tantrums from the stress he was under as an intern.”
“And you thought it was your fault for triggering these bursts of anger,” the psychologist said.
Something in her matter-of-fact approach and her obvious understanding made Raylene feel less ashamed. “You’ve heard this before,” she guessed.
“Too many times,” Dr. McDaniels said. “You do know it wasn’t your fault.”
“I do now. I think I even understood that on an intellectual level back then, but when the man you love keeps hammering it home that you’re responsible if he gets angry, on some level you start to think it must be true. I was too young—barely eighteen when we married—to know better.”
“Did you consider leaving him?”
