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Jared. Before...

      “It’s nice to have my oldest home,” Norma said. “I was going to bake a cake, but I couldn’t get the stove to work.”

      “It’s just temperamental,” Hil replied. “I can make it work, but I brought food and pie. We’re good.”

      “Okay.” Norma continued to eat, but Jena noticed a change in her. She became quiet and stared at the refrigerator. Wrapping her arms around her waist, Norma mumbled, “It’s getting chilly. We’ll probably have ice in the morning. I saw on the TV it was snowing somewhere.”

      Hil choked on her pie, coughed and took a quick gulp of tea. “What the hell was she watching?” Hil mouthed.

      “Wheel of Fortune,” Jena mouthed back.

      Hil shrugged. “It’s not that chilly, Mama.”

      “I wonder where my flannel gown is.” Their mother stood and meandered to her room.

      They cleaned the table and put the containers in plastic bags. “I’ll take the trash to the café in the morning.” Hil tied the top of the bag into a knot.

      “What do we do about Mama?” Jena asked.

      “I don’t know. I just agree with whatever she says. That seems to work best.”

      They went to their mother’s bedroom and found her standing near the bed in a flannel nightgown, looking confused. “Where’s my electric blanket, Hilary?”

      “It’s on the bed.” Hil winked at Jena.

      “Good. I wanted to take a bath, but it’s just too cold.”

      “That’s okay, Mama.” Hil helped her into bed.

      “Is the blanket on?”

      Hil knelt and pretended to fiddle with something. “How’s that?”

      “Much better.”

      Her sister got to her feet and kissed their mother. “Night.”

      “Now, don’t you girls talk all night. You have school tomorrow.”

      “We won’t.”

      Her mother was in another time and another place. Maybe after all she’d been through it was a better place for her. And she had the resilient strength of Hilary to help her. Once again Jena was amazed at her sister’s patience and compassion.

      She kissed her mother’s forehead. “Night, Mama.”

      “I’m so happy to have my beautiful daughter home.”

      “Hey. What am I? The ugly duckling?” Hil teased.

      “You’re my sweet, good daughter.”

      Hil flicked off the light. “Yeah, like that’s gonna get me a date with Ryan Reynolds?”

      “The actor?” Jena asked as they walked out.

      “Yeah.”

      “Isn’t he married?”

      “So? I’m not picky.”

      “You’re a nut.”

      Before Hil could respond, Jena’s cell buzzed, and she ran into the bedroom to get it. “It’s Blake,” she said.

      “I’ll take a bath and give you some privacy.” Grabbing a T-shirt out of a drawer, Hil disappeared into the bathroom.

      “Hi, Blake.” She sat on the bed.

      “I was getting worried. You didn’t call.”

      “I didn’t realize you wanted me to.”

      “Of course. I worry about you going back to that place.”

      “I’m fine.”

      “Did you talk to the constable?”

      “Yes, and he’s being very cooperative.”

      “I don’t know why you don’t let me handle it. Then you wouldn’t have to go back there.”

      She drew a deep breath. Blake was a master manipulator. “My mother and my sister are here, and I wanted to see them. If I need help, you’ll be the first person I call.”

      There was a long pause. “The office is not the same without you.”

      “I’ve been gone one day.”

      “It feels like a month.”

      She gripped her phone. Blake was ten years her senior and good to her, but he tended to push too hard and that immediately sent alarms sounding through her. When she’d started working for Blake’s firm, she was hired as a receptionist, and she was happy to get the job. It paid well. Then one evening Blake and his team were working a major high-profile case and one of the assistants called in sick. Blake’s secretary asked if she could stay late and help out.

      The next day Blake complimented her on her hard work and that made her feel good about herself. The personal assistant who’d been ill soon quit because she was having a difficult pregnancy. Blake offered Jena the job, and she’d gladly accepted. Her job was basically being at Blake’s beck and call. Between his secretary and Jena, they kept him on track and on time. Jena usually joined the entourage who went with him to court, and she loved that part of her work.

      Jena looked on Blake as a father figure. He looked on her as something more. They’d gone out a few times, and she made it clear she wasn’t ready for the kind of commitment he wanted. She didn’t know if she would ever be.

      Of course, he’d wanted to know why. She had to be honest, so she told him about her ordeal in Willow Creek. As a lawyer, he was outraged and determined to get justice for her. He offered to do it pro bono.

      But she refused to let him fight her battles. If she did, it would move their relationship to another level, and she didn’t want that. She listened when he told her that her rights had been grossly violated and Asa Corbett should be in jail. Nine years was long enough, she’d decided. She had to face her past. She had to know about her child.

      “Jena?”

      “Oh...sorry.” She’d drifted away from the conversation. “I’ll probably stay longer than I’d planned. My mom is not well, and I need to help my sister with her.”

      “Take as long as you need, but don’t let that country constable take advantage of you.”

      “I won’t.” She couldn’t imagine Carson doing that, but then, she hardly knew him.

      “I could take care of everything, and you wouldn’t even have to see the Corbetts.”

      She gritted her teeth. Blake did not get the meaning of the word no. “I’ve got to go. I’ll call tomorrow. ’Bye.” She clicked off and slipped the phone back into her purse.

      “Through?” Hil asked from the doorway in a T-shirt that had Kiss My Grits on it.

      “Yeah.” She got her nightclothes out of her suitcase and went into the bathroom to calm down. Blake could be so sweet. Other times he was controlling. She would only ask for his help as a last resort. She could handle this on her own.

      When she came out, Hilary was sitting on the floor, her back against the bed, her head resting on the mattress as she stared at the ceiling.

      Jena followed her gaze and slid down beside her, looking up. “You painted that?” A mural of a baby-blue sky, fluffy white clouds with a rainbow shooting across, graced the ceiling.

      “Yeah. It’s relaxing, isn’t it?”

      “Mmm.”

      “I sit here or lie in bed and dream about what’s at the end of the rainbow. A place where the phrase ‘poor white trash’ doesn’t exist. Where rumors and gossip are unheard of. Where there are beautiful homes with manicured lawns and gorgeous flowers. And I live

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