“New shoes, for starters. Since she doesn’t have a car, she’s going to be on her feet, walking a lot. And some clothes. Just a few things. I’ll spend three, four hundred dollars, tops.”
Riley winced again, this time at the memory of her buying
his
breakfast this morning, remembered how carefully she’d laid out the bills. “She won’t take charity, particularly from me or one of my friends.”
“I don’t plan to give her a choice.”
A line of other cars flowed past. “How are you going to avoid that?”
“I’ll buy the stuff and leave it on her doorstep anonymously—if I can get to her doorstep without being bitten by Lizzie’s dogs.”
“How do you know her size?”
“I was hoping
you’d
have that information.”
“No. I haven’t got a clue.” He suddenly remembered a lazy afternoon when they were hanging out together, and he was teasing her about how small her feet were. She’d told him she wore a six. That jumped into his mind, but he didn’t retract his initial answer. Kyle was going to need more than her shoe size.
“Then I’ll guess, pay cash and include the receipt so she can return or exchange the stuff.”
Riley pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’ve put some thought into this.”
“It’s been all I can think about since I dropped her off.”
“Fine, if that’s what you’d like to do,” he said. “I’m not sure why you’re even telling me about it.”
“You’re
not
?”
“It’s not as if she’s my enemy!”
“Really? Because I distinctly remember you not wanting her to come back. You spent years dreading the day.”
Riley couldn’t keep from feeling defensive. “I have a lot on the line,” he said.
“I understand. I’m not faulting you. I just felt I should let you know, because making things easier for her might also encourage her to stay when you’d rather she left.”
He had a feeling she’d stay regardless. She was
so
stubborn. “I don’t care if you help her.”
“Good. Thanks. And if it’s any reassurance, she told me she’s not out to cause you any trouble.”
“She volunteered that?”
“Pretty much.”
“Why?”
“My guess? To make it clear that she’s on her best behavior. That she wouldn’t ask you for anything, wouldn’t expect anything—even a ride from a friend of yours. She just wants everyone to leave her alone. And she wants to get to know Jacob, of course.”
Riley thought about how quiet his son had been all day. “I think he wants to get to know her, too.”
“Are you comfortable with that?”
He leaned his head back on the seat. “He’s sixteen. I don’t feel it’s my choice anymore.”
“Then we’d better hope her intentions are as good as she claims.”
No kidding. “I guess we’ll see, huh? I’ll talk to you later.”
“Riley?”
He hesitated before hanging up. “What?”
“She’s a lot prettier these days.”
A flash of anger shot through him, and he sat up straight. “That had better not be why you’re helping her!”
“Calm down. It’s not,” he said. “I just wondered if you’d noticed.”
“I’ve noticed,” he responded, and hit the end button.
* * *
“What about this?”
Riley grimaced at the blue dress Kyle had pulled off the rack. He was beginning to wonder what had possessed him to call his friend back and offer to go shopping with him. Just because Kyle had decided to play Santa in the middle of spring didn’t mean Riley had to get in on the act. “I don’t know. I don’t even know what I’m doing here,” he grumbled.
“I do,” Kyle said. “Phoenix is your son’s mother. So there’s that. And you feel bad about letting her buy you breakfast this morning, knowing she’s got to be living on pennies.”
“No, it’s your fault,” he said. “You dragged me into this.”
“
Dragged
you? You’re the one who suggested we stop at the grocery store on the way over here and get some canned goods. Thanks to you, we spent nearly fifty bucks on soup and chili and crackers and shit, and walked out of there with almost two boxfuls.”
The memory of Phoenix sitting at Just Like Mom’s in probably the only nice outfit she owned, counting out the money to cover his breakfast, made him squirm. But this wasn’t
just
about that. Spending a couple hundred bucks to help her get a start was the least he could do,
especially
if she was innocent. “Food makes sense. She probably needs that most of all.”
The sales assistant approached, a woman by the name of Kirsten, according to her badge.
“Clothes make sense, too,” Kyle said. “So...should we buy it?” He shook the dress to bring Riley’s attention back to it.
“That’s part of our new spring line,” Kirsten volunteered. “The cap sleeves are darling. So is the print. And with the way cotton breathes, it’s perfect for the warmer months. Any woman would love it.”
Riley figured she’d know better than they would. The girl he’d dated years ago would never wear something so feminine. But Phoenix was a woman now, and judging by what she’d had on at the restaurant this morning, her tastes had matured.
Even if it wasn’t the
perfect
choice, he doubted she’d be too critical. No one could ever accuse her of being spoiled. “I guess it’s fine.” They’d already been shopping for two hours and had agonized over their other purchases just as much. Now the mall was about to close, and they still had a ninety-minute drive home. He was anxious to be done.
With a sigh of relief, Kyle turned to the sales associate. “We’ll take it.”
She was heading to the register when Riley stopped her. “Wait! I don’t think that one will fit.” They hadn’t even looked at the tag.
“What size do you need?” she asked.
“A small one,” he replied.
“That doesn’t tell me a lot.” She chuckled. “
How
small?”
“We bought something in a size three at the last place,” Kyle told her.
Her heels clicked on the floor as she approached the rack where Kyle had found the dress. “I’m afraid this brand only comes in even numbers—zero, two, four. And I doubt we have a zero. We don’t get many of those. Is there someone you could call or text to ask?”
Kyle took out his phone. “Maybe one of our female friends has seen Phoenix since she’s been home,” he said, but Riley stopped him before he could dial.
“I doubt they have. And it doesn’t matter, anyway, because no one’s supposed to know about this, remember?”
“We can trust Callie, Eve or Cheyenne!” Kyle said.
“The fact that I’m pitching in on this is just between you and me,” Riley insisted.
Kyle scowled. “If it’s not going to get back to Phoenix, what does it matter?”
After everything he’d said through the years, it would seem like too much of a contradiction. And he didn’t want to deal with the questions his buying clothes for her would raise, or what the rest of the gang might surmise from his answers. “We agreed.”
Kyle shoved his phone back in his pocket. “So...what do we do? Make another guess?”
“That’s what we’ve done so far, isn’t it? You said yourself she can always return or exchange.” At least he’d known her shoe size...
“If she can walk all the way to Sacramento,” he muttered. “I wasn’t really thinking of the logistics when I said that.”
“With any luck, all the stuff will fit or she’ll figure out how to get back here and return the things that don’t.” Riley picked up the bags he’d put on the floor. “We’re just dropping this shit on her doorstep and leaving it at that.”
Kirsten obviously didn’t overhear a conversation like this every day. “Who’s the lucky recipient?” she asked, her gaze darting between them.
“An old acquaintance.” Riley had no intention of explaining more than that, even though he could tell she was curious.
“Maybe someone could give her a ride if it doesn’t fit,” she said, as if she’d easily solved that problem.
Riley ignored the comment. She couldn’t know that after spending nearly seventeen years in prison Phoenix had far fewer resources and friends than most people. “We’ll take a two or a four. Your choice.”
“
My
choice?” she said in surprise.
“If it helps, she’s small, maybe a hundred pounds, but she’s not flat or anything,” Kyle told her. “She’s got a really nice, um, figure.”
“I see.” As Kirsten turned to sort through the rest of the dresses, Riley shot Kyle a dirty look.
“What?” Kyle murmured.
“She’s got a really nice figure?”
He spread out his hands. “It’s the truth!”
“A hundred pounds isn’t much,” Kirsten mused, concentrating hard enough that she seemed oblivious to what they were saying behind her. “I haven’t weighed that since I was twelve. So...I’m thinking a two.”
“That’ll work,” Kyle said, but he would’ve responded the same way no matter what she recommended. They had no idea what they were doing.
“Here we go.” A pleasant smile curved her lips. “Will there be anything else?”
“We’d like one more outfit,” Riley said.
“For the same woman?” she asked.
“Yes.”
She draped the dress over her arm. “Something similar to this or...?”
“Maybe some shorts?”
“Got it.”
When she set off to fulfill Riley’s request, Kyle lowered his voice. “What about underwear?”
“What about it?”
“Don’t you think we should get her some?”
“Hell, no!” He wasn’t about to look at lingerie with Phoenix in mind.
At his unequivocal response, Kyle frowned. “Look, I’m not an only child, like you. I have a sister, so maybe I’m more comfortable with this. But a woman’s got to have underwear. And we passed a Victoria’s Secret store. I say we stop there on our way out, grab a handful of panties and a bra and be done with it.”
Riley stretched his neck. To continue to refuse would only make him seem immature. Kyle was just being practical. But Riley had slept with Phoenix. Of course he’d conjure up images and memories best forgotten. He’d been with only one other girl before her, an older girl who’d approached him at a party with one thing in mind. It had been more of an initiation than anything. But as much as he didn’t want to acknowledge it, even to himself, what he’d experienced with Phoenix had been different—all about mutual discovery and young love. She didn’t realize it, but their breakup had been almost as hard on him. He’d trusted his parents to know what was best for him, and yet he’d never felt sure they were right. “No one had better find out about this.”
Kyle slapped him on the back. “They won’t.”
“Including
her
.”
“It’s a doorbell ditch. She’ll never catch us.”
“We’re not ringing the damn bell. She can find whatever we leave in the morning. It’s not like it’s going to rain.”
The saleswoman was on her way back, arms full. “Do you like any of these?”
Kyle sifted through the various styles of shorts and shirts she’d collected. “I bet the cutoffs would look nice.”
The saleswoman seemed pleased with his choice. “Would you like to purchase them, too? Maybe with this purple shirt?”
He scratched his head. “I’m not sure about the shirt. I’m not big on purple.”
As they walked over to see about getting the shirt in a different color, Riley wandered through the rest of the store. They’d already bought Phoenix an expensive pair of running shoes, some flip-flops, a pair of “skinny” jeans and a white, lacy tank top. As far as he was concerned, except for underwear, they were finished. But when he turned around to go over to the register, he caught sight of an aquamarine top that looked as if it would match those stormy eyes of hers.
“You coming?” Kyle called.
Riley almost walked off without it. They had enough. But at the last second, he changed his mind and went back.
“Do you want that instead of the pink one we just got?” Kyle asked when he saw what Riley was carrying.
“No, we’ll get this one, too,” he replied. “I’m sure she could use an extra top.”
“You’re spending a lot of money,” his friend complained.
“What are you talking about?” He took out his wallet. “I’m paying half, so you’re still in it for less than you planned.”
“That’s all well and good. But I don’t want you to blame me later for what this cost you, just because it was my idea. You’re the one who’s running up the bill. You insisted on getting the more expensive tennis shoes.” He checked the tag on the shirt. “And this is sixty dollars!”
They could swing sixty bucks for someone who’d never had much of anything. He’d used the same rationale when considering the running shoes. Although he was probably a fool for getting involved in this—it made Phoenix sympathetic to him when he was hoping to keep her at a distance—he was starting to get excited now that they were finished with all the style and size choices. He kept imagining the relief these things would bring her, and that made him feel good despite the ambiguity of the past—or perhaps because of it. “It’ll only be thirty dollars since we’re splitting it,” he said, and watched the salesgirl ring it up.
4
A
noise startled Phoenix. Earlier she’d awakened with a crick in her neck after nodding off at her desk and had stumbled to her bed, where she’d been sleeping ever since. She’d gotten very little rest the past few days; she’d been too busy, too anxious, too worried. Apparently, her exhaustion had overcome all of that. But she was still uneasy enough not to allow herself to sink
too
deeply into unconsciousness. At the back of her mind were those letters from Lori Mansfield’s family and the threats they contained. This was
their
town, they’d said.
Lori’s
town. Phoenix had no idea if Buddy, the brother who’d sent the worst of the letters, would actually “make her sorry,” as he claimed. But this sound...it wasn’t just the dogs, although she could hear them barking from her mother’s trailer.
She blinked into the darkness as the wooden steps leading to her door creaked again. Was someone looking for a way in? The fact that finding one wouldn’t be hard made her supremely aware of her own vulnerability. She’d opened her windows because it had been so warm in the afternoon and she didn’t have a working air conditioner. Then she’d been too out of it to remember to close them when she went to bed. Buddy could easily cut the screen on the large living room window beside the steps and hoist himself through...
Her heart in her throat, Phoenix scrambled out of bed and rummaged around until she found the bat she’d brought in from the yard her first night back. It was all she had to defend herself with, but she was determined that she would not let Buddy stop her from being part of Jacob’s life. She’d suffered enough for what had happened to Lori Mansfield. Since she hadn’t done anything wrong, besides make a couple of stupid crank calls to Lori before the accident¸ she’d basically been punished for falling in love with Riley Stinson. Her crush on him was what had given her the supposed “motive.”
“Who is it?” She hated the tremor in her voice. She needed to sound strong in order to convince Buddy—it had to be him—not to try anything. But he didn’t seem to be breaking in. She heard a thud, as though he’d dropped something on her porch. Then there was another thud and the
tap, tap, tap
of receding footsteps.
Holy shit! It sounded as if there were
two
people on her porch! What had they left behind? And what would it do to her?
Wielding the bat with single-minded purpose, she charged down the hall and through the front door, screaming like a banshee. “I’m not going anywhere, you sons of bitches!” she yelled.
Her mother had had a floodlight installed to discourage teenagers from coming out and throwing beer bottles at her trailer, so Phoenix could see the back of a tall figure dressed in black and wearing a hoodie. She thought he called out, “Shit! Let’s go!” But she couldn’t see anyone with him, and there was no way she could catch him. He ran off the property and sprinted down the road, too far ahead for her to even give chase.
“Phoenix?”
The dogs—and possibly her shouting—had awakened her mother.
“It’s nothing,” she told Lizzie, and squinted into the darkness, trying to make sure that was true. There wasn’t anyone else on the property, was there?
No one she could see. If there’d been two people, they’d both run off—but they’d left two medium-size boxes outside her door.
She wondered what mean thing her fellow Whiskey Creek residents had gotten up to as her mother reprimanded the dogs. “Settle down!”
Using her bat to poke the boxes so she wouldn’t have to get too close, Phoenix pushed them onto the ground. She was convinced they contained a bomb or a snake or something that was just unpleasant, like dog crap—so convinced she almost didn’t want to open them. She knew she wasn’t welcome here, didn’t need any more warnings. But one of the boxes broke apart when it struck the ground and what spilled out didn’t look dangerous
or
unpleasant.
From what she could tell, it was...
clothes
. And
canned goods
, which was why they’d hit the ground with such force.
She peered at the man—or men—who’d run off. Why would Buddy, or anyone else, bring her clothes and food?
Was there something wrong with it? It would be far crueler to make her believe this was a nice gesture, only to let her discover later that there were words written on the various articles, like
Murderer
, that he’d urinated on everything or that the canned goods were rotten or poisoned.
And what was in the other box? The one that
hadn’t
broken open?
Slowly descending the steps, she made her way around to find out, but she kept looking over her shoulder, checking to see whether whoever it was would come back. If Buddy had dropped off something intended to be hurtful, he’d want to stick around to make sure it had the proper impact.
There was also the possibility that he’d been hoping to draw her outside...
But everything remained quiet. There was no movement, no noise.
Just to be certain they were gone, she walked to the gate and stared as far down the road as she could. Nothing.
“Phoenix?” Her mother had managed to quiet the dogs. “You still out there? What’s goin’ on?”
Phoenix returned to study what lay on the ground, searching for movement. Had Buddy filled those boxes with cockroaches or earwigs or some other kind of bug? “I told you, nothing. Go back to sleep.”
“The dogs heard somethin’ or they wouldn’t have gotten themselves worked up like that!” her mother insisted.
“It was just me, chasing off a raccoon.” Whatever her visitors had brought, her mother didn’t need to know about it. Lizzie had been tormented enough for being odd, difficult, overweight, a recluse.
“You best be careful, girl,” her mother warned. “There ain’t nobody in this town who likes you.”
“I know, Mom. You tell me that every day,” she said, but not loudly enough for her voice to carry to the other trailer.
“Did you hear me?” her mother yelled.
Phoenix spoke louder. “I heard you. Don’t worry. I can take care of myself.” Tough talk for someone acutely aware of her own weakness. Fighting with other women was one thing. That had been frightening enough. But Buddy? He was a huge man, positive she’d killed his baby sister, who’d been only a year younger than he was, and he seemed to believe that justice meant an eye for an eye.
“Get inside and lock the door,” her mother urged. “The bastards who run this town would love nothing more than to catch you out at night.”
“I’m going,” she said, but circled the boxes that had fallen instead. Whatever they contained—bugs or snakes or rat poison—she needed to get rid of it.
Once again using her bat, she nudged the box that had broken open. It was clothes, all right. As she’d noted before, it also contained canned vegetables, beans and soup. And a shoebox. She thought that might be where she’d find the dog shit, but when she knocked off the lid, she saw that it was...
running shoes
?
“What’s going on?” she murmured. The clothes were for a woman. There wasn’t any writing on them or blood that she could see. She couldn’t smell urine. Everything looked nice and new. These were name-brand items with the tags still on them.
More of the same, as well as some packaged food, filled the second box.
Who’d brought her these things?
Whoever it was had included a receipt. Whoa...someone had spent a great deal and left her the option of return or exchange.
That sure as hell wouldn’t be Buddy.
Were these gifts, then? Everything was in her size, or close, and had been dropped at her doorstep. It had to be for her. But she was afraid to trust what she saw. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had given her anything, other than the small handmade gifts she’d exchanged with her friend Coop and a few of the other women in prison at Christmas. Cara had given her that laptop, but she’d also made Cara a fair amount of money for helping facilitate the bracelet business.
“Look at this stuff!” she muttered as she began to dig through everything in earnest. This was better than any Christmas she’d ever had.
She held up a pair of lace panties.
Victoria’s Secret?
Returning those to the pile, she pulled out a sundress, carefully brushed off the dirt and hugged it to her. It was a two. She was fairly sure it would fit. And it was so darn pretty...
Eager to try it on, along with everything else, she started gathering up what had spilled. But she couldn’t stop thinking about the dark figure in the hoodie. She figured it had to be Kyle and felt bad for misjudging him. He was the only person who’d shown her any kindness so far.
“Thank you,” she whispered, and was suddenly so overwhelmed with gratitude all she could do was sink down on her knees and cry.
* * *
Afraid the dogs would start barking again, Riley held very still. When Kyle had run off, Riley had hidden. Now he was pressed up against the back of Lizzie’s trailer, taking advantage of the deep shadows, and couldn’t go anywhere until Phoenix went inside. He’d thought he’d just wait until she went in, then slip out of the yard. But she was too overcome to be in any kind of hurry. And seeing her, someone who was so distrustful, so prepared to battle some unknown assailant, break down when she finally realized she had nothing to be afraid of made Riley’s chest tighten to the point that he could barely breathe. He could only imagine what it must be like for her, to have so little in the way of resources and yet feel as if she had to take on the whole world.
There ain’t nobody in this town who likes you.
And yet she’d come back...
He clenched his fists and leaned into the rusty old filing cabinet that helped provide his cover. He refused to tear up—but fighting his emotions left a huge lump in his throat. Damn it! He’d known better than to get involved in this.
But it was the burning behind his eyes and the empathy that made his heart ache that caused the anger. He’d never been happier to give someone a gift.
Grateful to Kyle for thinking of it, for bringing it to his attention and making him feel responsible for meeting at least some of her needs, he watched as Phoenix wiped her cheeks, dusted off each item and restacked the cans inside the boxes.
The lights inside her trailer snapped on as soon as she carried the heaviest carton through the door. Then she returned to collect the other one.
After her door closed for the second time, Riley could have left without giving himself away. Instead, he was tempted to creep up to her window to see if she was trying on what they’d bought. It would be gratifying to see how it fit. His interest wasn’t sexual, so it didn’t seem all that reprehensible. But he decided that peeping through her bedroom window wouldn’t be appropriate despite his intentions.
Besides, Kyle had to be impatient waiting at the truck, which they’d parked half a mile or so away.
With a final glance at the bat she’d left on the ground, Riley was moving toward the street when he spotted a piece-of-shit bike leaning up against Phoenix’s trailer. She must have plans for that, he decided. She probably intended to fix it so that she’d have some transportation.
Noah, one of his best friends, owned the bike shop in town. Riley could get it fixed quicker and cheaper...
One of the dogs barked, making him a little anxious, but he couldn’t stop himself. He grabbed the bike before he left and was carrying it with him when he met Kyle on the road.
“What the hell is that?” Kyle asked.
“What does it look like?” he replied.
“Is that where you’ve been? Trying to steal her bike? I was beginning to think she caught you.”
“It wasn’t the bike that held me up.”
“Then what did?”
“It took her a while to open those boxes and figure out they were safe to accept.”
Kyle’s expression showed interest. “You saw her open them?”
“Yeah. After she chased you off, she thought whoever had left the stuff was gone.”
“But...how did she not see you? With that damn floodlight it wasn’t even very dark.”
“That’s why I couldn’t move. I was hiding in the shadows behind her mother’s trailer.” And she definitely hadn’t seen him. If she’d known he was there, she would never have broken down. That was what had made her relief and gratitude so honest. Here was someone who’d withstood so much tragedy without flinching. She hadn’t complained or railed at him when he didn’t bring Jacob to see her in the correctional facility, even though she’d requested it several times. She would simply wait a few months and politely ask him again.
Now he felt like shit that he hadn’t shown more consideration. But he hadn’t wanted to confuse Jacob, hadn’t wanted to do anything that might cause his son to stumble. His parents, who’d been so much help when Jacob was small, had convinced him that allowing any kind of contact with Phoenix would be a grave mistake. And there was something about believing that she’d gotten what she deserved that neutralized compassion in general—and in him, too—especially when so many people he respected stood united in that opinion.
“So what did she think?” Kyle asked as they walked toward the truck.
Riley shifted the bike to his other hand. It wasn’t heavy, but it was awkward to carry. “She liked everything.”
“Really?” He seemed pleased, and Riley understood why. He’d felt the same way when she’d held that sundress to her chest as if it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. “How do you know?”
Riley grinned at him. “Trust me, it was obvious.”
“She’s too guarded to show much emotion. But you could tell, huh?”
She wasn’t guarded when
he
saw her because she’d thought she was alone. All her walls had come crumbling down. But he felt it would violate her privacy to share the moment he’d witnessed, with those tears streaming down her face, so he kept it to himself. “Yeah, I could.”
“I hope I get to see her wear something we bought,” he said.
They reached the truck. “That felt great,” Riley admitted as he climbed into the passenger seat. “Thanks for including me.”
Kyle looked surprised. “Seriously, man? I know it’s hard for you to have her back.”