Sweet Justice (21 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

M
ALLORY
PULLED
UP
to the farm and stopped so abruptly that a cloud of dust billowed around her car. Slamming the door, she stood, hand shielding her eyes. Yes, there was Katelyn—on a horse, with Andrew beside her.

Mindless of anything but her towering rage, Mallory crossed to the paddock. Katelyn's smile and wave faltered. Her hand dropped to her side.

“Off,” Mallory ordered. “Get off that horse.”

“Mal—”

Andrew interjected, “We're almost done, if you'll give me a few minutes—”

She cut him off. “You,” she said, pointing a finger at him, “have done quite enough, thank you.” Mallory whirled back around to face Katelyn. “And you—I am so disappointed in you. You lied, Katelyn. You lied.”

Katelyn went two shades grayer. She made no move to get off the horse, but instead gripped the reins tighter. “About what?”

“You withdrew. From your classes. Without telling me. And you forged my signature on your progress reports from the school—progress reports
I
asked about and
you
told me they didn't send.”

Katelyn gulped. “Because I knew you'd go all ballistic on me. You don't make it easy to tell you stuff.” She turned to Andrew, the horse becoming restless under her. “You said you talked to her!”

Andrew held up his hand. “Whoa—this is not the best place to be having this conversation—”

It was the wrong thing for him to have said. “When
is
the best time?” Mallory demanded. “You're either at the station or on a horse, so when would it suit you to pencil me in?”

The horse pulled back, high-stepping away from Andrew and Mallory. “Katelyn, do you have him?” Andrew asked.

“Yeah. I'll walk him over to the other end of the pasture—away from some high-strung people!” Katelyn jerked on the reins and quickly put distance between her and Mallory.

“How dare you!” Mallory tightened her grip on the fence that separated her and Andrew. “I needed to talk to her—”

“No. You didn't. Not while she was on a horse. She's come a long way in the time she's been here, but she doesn't have the strength to control a riled-up horse.” He said it firmly. Then he clambered over the fence and dropped down beside her. “And I think you'll appreciate me giving you a chance to cool off—”

“I'd appreciate it if you hadn't encouraged her to quit!” she snapped. “She quit, Andrew. She withdrew two weeks ago. And she's failing.”

“Hey. Remember what I said the other day. There is no timetable. She'll get her act together—”

“There
is
a timetable! I had a plan, Andrew. She graduates high school, she gets her degree—a real degree—she gets a good, dependable job that she can do— She has so many opportunities that I never had—”

He laid a hand on her arm, looked deeply into her eyes. “Mallory, one thing my dad never did was confuse his dreams for mine.”

Mallory shook his fingers off. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe...” Now Andrew stared down at the grass under their feet, kicked a loose pebble with the toe of his boot. When he lifted his head, he didn't meet Mallory's eyes. He fixed his gaze on Katelyn, who was walking the horse in a slow trot at the far end of the paddock. “Maybe you should be the one to go to college. Maybe that's your dream, not Katelyn's.”

If she'd thought she was angry before, it didn't hold a candle to the fury that rose up from her core. “Andrew Monroe! Do you hear yourself? I. Can't. Go. To. College. Not until I get Katelyn settled. I can't. Because I have to work, I have to get groceries on the table and pay for health insurance and utilities and clothes—”

Her anger turned to despair. She'd thought he'd understand. A sob tore loose from her, and she pressed her hand to her mouth. She would fly apart before she cried in front of him again.

In a quieter, more controlled voice, she told him, “I can't go to college until I make sure that Katelyn has a secure future...and because of you, she's further than ever from that.”

It was funny how, when she said that, it crystalized everything. There it was, the nut of the problem. She had to get Katelyn a secure future. Before Andrew had come into the picture, she'd had that goal in the forefront of her mind, but he had distracted her.

She'd allowed herself to be distracted by him.

No more. She would do whatever it took.

She turned and started walking for the car.

“Hey, wait, where are you going?” he called after her.

“To do what I should have done a long time ago.”

“What do I tell Katelyn?”

“That I'll be back tonight to pick her up, and that I'll deal with her and her forgery then.”

She kept walking. Didn't turn. Didn't dare look at him because she might cry, and she didn't ever want him to see her cry again.

In the car, she backed out, pointed it toward Macon and picked up her phone.

The person picked up on the first ring.

“Chad?” she asked. “If you'll stay late, I'll come and sign those papers.”

* * *

A
NDREW
STARED
AT
the ceiling of the bunk room in the firehouse. He couldn't sleep. It had been two days since the big blowup at the farm, and still Mallory wouldn't return his calls.

He suspected that she wouldn't come when she knew he was off duty, either, because he'd seen neither hide nor hair of her during the rest of his forty-eight off.

Oh, he'd reamed out Katelyn but good for her part in the whole fiasco. She'd cried and moaned and groaned, but even Ma had taken Mallory's part about withdrawing without telling Mallory and forging her signature.

“Honey,” Ma had told her, “you face your problems, you don't run from them. If you turn your back on them or shove 'em under a rug, why, they'll grow twice the size they were, and then leap out at you when you least expect it.”

Still, Andrew had to take responsibility for his part. While he hadn't told Katelyn to quit, and he certainly hadn't told her to forge her sister's name to her progress reports, he'd encouraged her to buck Mallory's plans.

And, boy, were those plans rigid. If he could just talk some sense into her, maybe she could see that there could be a different way. Sure, it wouldn't be as quick as her original plan, but there was no one right way of doing things. There had to be a way to get that college education she craved and still take care of Katelyn.

The alert of a call-out buzzed through the building. He rolled out of his bunk in pure reflex. Pile-up on the interstate, from the sound of the radio, with possible entrapment and a fuel leak.

“Let's go, boys!” Captain said, motioning them onto the rig. “Seconds count! What are we, nailed to the ground tonight?”

The doors slammed, seat belts clicked, and they peeled out into the dark night. The few cars dotting the streets pulled off to the side as they made their way through the main intersections of town.

“Might as well get up and answer a call,” Eric grouched beside him. “The way you toss and turn on that top bunk makes the whole frame rock.”

“It's because you and Jackson had the brainy idea to put those cans under it—ever since then, it's felt loose,” Andrew grouched back as he watched their approach to another intersection. “I'm still cleaning up flour and Kool-Aid.”

“Boys, get your mind off your high jinks and on the job,” Captain ordered them. “We've got a possible entrapment, so, Eric, I want you on the—”

Whatever Captain intended to say, Andrew never knew. He heard a shout from the firefighter behind the wheel, felt the whole rig yank hard, then the right side lift and they were turning and sliding, metal screeching and tools flying, until, mercifully, blackness closed in on him.

* * *

M
ALLORY
PICKED
UP
the seam ripper and palmed it, a twist of pain zapping through her heart. She couldn't see this thing without thinking of Andrew and his kiss.

What did it matter about all that if
he
couldn't see what she needed? What Katelyn needed?

Nothing. She'd finished Kimberly's dress earlier in the week, and worked like a crazy woman to turn out the bridesmaids' dresses. She wanted them done so she didn't have to chance seeing him again.

And maybe soon she wouldn't ever have to see him. She'd signed the papers for Chad, explaining that Katelyn's failure had set her back and made her understand what she had to do.

“If we can get the power company to pay for Katelyn's medical bills,” she'd said, “then I can start with a clean slate, and maybe, just maybe I can go back to school myself. I owe that to me and to Katelyn.”

He'd grinned. “Leave it to me. You're going to have plenty of money to go back to school on...and Katelyn? She'll be set. When I get done, you won't have to worry about providing for her.”

Now she set aside the seam ripper and surveyed the white dress waiting for Kimberly. This was the final fitting, the verdict as to whether Kimberly would like what Mallory had done.

The Monroe girls had made a big ceremony out of it. Mallory had gone into the sewing room and given the gown a final once-over.

It was ready.

Kimberly came in and gasped in pleasure. “Ooh, Mallory! It's gorgeous! My daughter will be over the moon...and I can't wait for Daniel to see it.”

The tension in Mallory's stomach uncoiled as she helped Kimberly step into the dress. Daniel's fiancée preened in front of the full-length mirror.

“Do you like it?” Mallory asked.

“Oh, yes.” Kimberly's eyes sparkled. From the other side of the closed door, the other women had started chanting, “Dress! Dress! Dress!”

“I think that's your cue,” Mallory said.

Kimberly picked up the voluminous cloud of tulle and waited for Mallory to open the door. She swept in ahead of Mallory.

Oohs and aahs rewarded Mallory the moment the women and Andrew's nieces spotted Kimberly. This was Mallory's true calling. Maybe, with the money Chad had promised her, she could get a degree in fashion design.

“And...that's not all, folks!” She twirled her hands à la a game-show hostess. “I have the bridesmaids' dresses done!”

The room erupted in applause. “Mom! You look so pretty!” Marissa hollered. “Daniel's gonna swoon!”

Ma beamed. “To think you did it all in my sewing room—”

A ringing telephone cut through the festivities. Ma rose from her seat to answer it. Mallory realized something was wrong from the way Ma gripped the counter. An uneasy quiet washed over the crowd of women as they, too, felt the tension.

Ma hung up. Her head was bent, her hands shaking. “Oh, my word. Not again. Not...”

Instantly her daughters and her future daughters-in-law surrounded her. Mallory hung back, not wanting to interfere in whatever family crisis had arisen.

“That was Daniel.” Ma's hand trembled. “There's been a wreck. One of the fire trucks... It's bad. Daniel said Andrew was on it when it happened—but he's okay, just a little banged up, got knocked on the head,” she rushed to add. “Daniel needs me to go, though. Because...”

Mallory's breath went out of her at the mention of Andrew hurt. She was glad Ma was taking the time to search for words because she couldn't have focused anyway.

“What does Daniel need, Ma?” Kimberly pressed. Her hands were balled up in the white tulle, and her face as white as the dress she was wearing.

“Eric's hurt bad. And...that nice captain of Andrew's...” Ma closed her eyes, and her body swayed. “He's had a heart attack. Oh, his poor wife...and Eric's mama... They're at the hospital... Oh, dear, when will all this trouble be over?”

* * *

T
HEY
'
D
COME
THROUGH
TOWN
, Mallory falling in with them, though she'd insisted that she and Katelyn should stay behind. Maegan had pulled her aside and took her by the hands.

“Please,” she begged. “Go in my place. Let me stay here with Katelyn. I can't see another woman lose her husband. I know I should be tougher. But all I can think about is the night we lost Dad, and...I just can't do it.”

Mallory had understood. Hadn't she been that way about hospitals?

Now she stood uncertainly by Ma in the doorway of the brightly lit waiting room of the ER. She spied two women sitting between Daniel and a bandaged Andrew, bruises already sprouting across his face.

Ma took a deep breath, grabbed Kimberly's hand, then reached down and grabbed Mallory's. “Girls. This is gonna be a hard thing. Help me all you can.”

Me? I'm not a firefighter's wife. I can't tell that poor woman her life is going to be okay if her husband dies, or that other woman—to bury a child, that has to be worse than losing both parents.

She didn't have a chance to hang back. She was moving in lockstep with Ma and Kimberly. Their approach attracted the attention of the younger woman, who blanched.

“No! No, please! Not my Eric, oh, please, not my husband—” she shrieked.

Ma was down on her knees in front of her, assuring her that Eric was still alive.

Kimberly exchanged glances with Ma, and then, as if there had been some elaborately choreographed plan, she drew Eric's mother to her feet. “Let's get some air. Do you need some help making any phone calls?”

Mallory stood by and watched Ma slide into the empty seat beside the captain's wife. The woman turned to face Ma, her eyes dead. She took Ma's hands in hers and said, “It's bad, isn't it? You wouldn't be here if it wasn't bad.”

Ma nodded. “We've got to hope for the best, Allison. That Will, he's a fighter.”