Jailbird Read online

  “Oh please, Miss Neena?” Cara pleaded from the back seat.

  “The Torres place is on the way,” he argued.

  “Okay then. Thank you,” I caved, sliding nervously into the seat. I knew I must look like a scared cat as I practically clung to the door, but I couldn’t seem to make myself sit in the center of the seat.

  “It’s an awful hot day for such a long hike,” he mused.

  “Oh, I don’t know. I find walking to be very liberating,” I smiled a little to myself.

  “That’s an interesting way of looking at it.”

  “It frees my mind of all the clutter,” I amended.

  “So are you staying with the Torres family for long?”

  “I hadn’t really decided.”

  “Please do,” Cara joined in.

  “We’ll see. I wouldn’t want to wear out my welcome,” I turned to give her a little smile. “Everyone has been so kind.”

  “What brings you this way?” Charlie moved the conversation along.

  “Change of scenery,” I hedged then quickly pointed the conversation in a different direction. “So where are the two of you headed on this pretty day?”

  “A nature walk,” Cara rushed to inform me.

  “That sounds fun. You know, Cara, maybe you could help me with something. I was hoping to go fishing today. I thought maybe I could catch our supper. Do you know of any good fishing holes around here?”

  “I’ve never been fishing,” her smooth brow puckered and she glared at her father. I’d apparently stumbled on a bone of contention. I turned my gaze to Charlie as well.

  “Really?”

  “I just never got around to it,” he seemed to squirm in his seat.

  His excuse was met with silence. Cara folded her arms and glared at him. I folded my arms and regarded him expectantly.

  “I suppose I could take you guys down to the river,” he sighed in resignation and looked at me. “Do you have gear?”

  “Give me ten minutes in Manny’s shed and I can make us some gear,” I promised.

  “How can I argue with that?” He grinned at me and shook his head. Cara bounced with excitement and I pondered the 180 my life had taken in such a short time.

  After we pulled down the long driveway leading to the Torres place, Charlie put the car in park and I instantly hopped out as if the seat were on fire. Some things are just too deeply imprinted in my brain, I guess.

  “Let me find Mamá Torres to see if she needs anything before we take off again,” I went for the door.

  “I can do that. You work your magic in the shed,” he waved me off. “Cara will want to try to swipe some candy anyway.”

  “It’s not stealing if she offers it to me, Daddy,” Cara made a face at her father.

  I wasn’t entirely sure I could take an afternoon of their loving interchanges. It made me wish for a time machine. I wanted to be that six-year-old little girl again, sure of the world and safely ensconced in the protective arms of her daddy. Back before I knew people like Todd Winslow and the Chicas even existed.

  Before either of my companions could see the expression on my face, I hurried to Manny’s tool shed. Thanks to the tour I’d been given by Anjelita, I knew right where he kept his fishing line and quickly cut myself a few lengths. I put a few sinkers and hooks in a small bag and pocketed those as well. When I dropped my shopping bag off inside the small house, I was greeted by Mamá Torres bearing brownies.

  “You are too thin, child,” she admonished as she handed me the desserts. I accepted the gift and the hug that went with it, still a little wary of the human contact and unsure what do with the affection this family was pouring out on me.

  “If I can catch enough fish, I’ll make my special fish fry for dinner and see if I can fatten us all up,” I promised.

  “Don’t let me keep you, then,” she smiled at me and then Charlie. “You kids have fun.”

  “Gracias, Mamá,” Charlie kissed her cheek even as Cara darted back out the door.

  “Tell Manny I owe him four lengths of fishing line,” I remembered. “And some hooks and sinkers.”

  “You just bring back dinner and we’ll call it even,” she shooed me out the door.

  “Do you need me to stay and clean?” I was suddenly nervous about the pending expedition.

  “Go.”

  It was hard to argue with a woman like Mamá Torres when she was so firmly set on something. She probably had misguided visions of me and Charlie falling madly in love, although that was totally ridiculous. If she knew who I really was, she’d be chasing me from her house with a broom. That knowledge shamed me into a brooding silence for most of the ride. I was only vaguely aware of the lush greenery passing my window as the car traveled deeper into the woods.

  I couldn’t be sure, but it seemed Charlie wanted to ask me something. He didn’t, though. Other than the occasional sideways glance, he kept his focus centered on Cara and their conversation about the types of trees that surrounded them.

  He parked the car on the shoulder of the road and helped Cara out. The two waited expectantly for me at a nearby trailhead while I sat rooted to my spot, trying to convince myself to get out of the car. I hadn’t thought about the possibility of his fishing hole being deep in the woods.

  Panic clawed at my throat as I watched him kneel to tell Cara something, then walk carefully back to the car. He approached me as if I were a wild animal who’d been cornered. Maybe that was really smart of him.

  I reluctantly let go of the death-grip I had on the door when he opened it for me. I stared fiercely at the ground, willing myself to just get out of the car. He had his daughter with him. He was a gentle man. He wouldn’t hurt me. Just get out of the car, I mentally ordered my feet.

  “Are you okay?” he knelt beside me.

  I nodded, meeting his eyes at last. I expected to see confusion or maybe impatience for my strange behavior. Instead, his steady gaze seemed to assure me that he and his daughter would wait as long as needed. His patience stood in stark contrast to the cajoling I’d received the last time I balked at a walk in the woods.

  He held his hand out and I found myself placing my hand in his. His grip was warm and firm and calming and it got me out of that car. Cara eyed me curiously as we approached and I felt a little silly for my hesitation. I crossed my eyes and stuck out my tongue. She giggled and the uncomfortable moment passed. I didn’t even mind that Charlie still held my hand in his. In fact, I kind of liked it.

  Chapter Three

  Ten years ago, the woods had brought me terror. Forty-five days ago, freedom. Today, they brought me peace.

  “Find me branch about yeah big,” I held my hand out flat in front of me to demonstrate. “Make sure it’s still green and the straightest one you see.”

  “Right,” Cara scurried off with Charlie in tow to do as told. I grabbed a couple of sticks at my feet and began constructing our stringer. I’d just about finished my own fishing pole when Charlie and Cara returned triumphant.

  “No fair,” Charlie’s proud smile faded when I set my finished pole to the side. “How’d you find yours so fast?”

  “Practice. Lots and lots of practice.”

  “Make mine first,” Cara shoved her stick at me.

  “This is a fine-looking branch,” I praised. “Now hold it steady like this and we’ll get it fixed up.”

  I used my small pocket knife to cut a notch in the tip of the branch. A few deft maneuvers and the line was attached. A few more and the sinker and hook were as well.

  “I think I might have left my manhood back at the car,” Charlie’s expression was a little incredulous.

  “I wouldn’t expect a paleface to know how to rig a good fishing line,” I winked with a smile. That wasn’t entirely true. My French-Creole grandpapa was the one who’d taught me to fish.

  “So I take that to mean you’re not really a Torres?” Charlie accepted the pole I handed him.

  “No, I’m not a Torres,” I couldn’t help smiling
a little at that. “But they’ve certainly welcomed me as if I were.”

  “Are we ready to fish?” Cara’s hook dangled precariously close to her father’s arm.

  “I don’t think the fish are going to just grab hold of the line without some encouragement,” Charlie gingerly caught her hook before it could snag him.

  “That’s right. Do you want worms or bugs?”

  “Ewww,” Cara wrinkled her petite nose.

  “Sorry sweetie, your daddy’s right… the fish aren’t going to just jump out of the water at you. How about we stick with bugs and I’ll bait your hook for you? Just this once,” I promised.

  Cara still looked skeptical but went along as Charlie and I proceeded with our bug hunt. Once her hook was baited, her father taught her how to cast. It was all very exciting for 60 whole seconds. Then Cara got bored and went off to pick wildflowers while Charlie manned her pole and his. She was quick to rush back to claim the prize when her line got the first catch of the day.

  Charlie’s eyes met mine as she bounced with excitement in between us. Something in them made my cheeks hot and I quickly knelt to help Cara pull the hook out of her fish’s mouth. Or rather, to do it for her because the first time she went to touch the fish it began to flop on the line, eliciting a squeal.

  “That’s definitely a keeper,” I smiled and placed it on my makeshift stringer. “You’ve officially contributed to dinner.”

  “Cool,” she beamed then darted off again. Charlie shrugged and turned back to his own line. Mine was the next to get a hit and Cara darted back to see the excitement. She was off again once the lines were back in the water.

  If I’d stopped to think about who I was, or the fact that I didn’t know this man, I might not have enjoyed the afternoon quite as much. But I didn’t want to think too hard about anything just then. It was nice to feel the sun kissing my face and the breeze caressing my skin.

  I liked talking to Charlie. He was funny and his voice made me feel happy. So maybe I was borrowing trouble, but I let myself forget for one afternoon that we were anything other than just an ordinary man and an ordinary woman.

  I heard the rumble of a boat’s motor before I saw the boat. Out of instinct, I froze, trying to figure out who was heading our way.

  “Looks like the game warden. You’d better get your fishing license out,” Charlie put his pole down and pulled his wallet out of his pocket.

  “License?” Shoot. I hadn’t thought of that. “We don’t exactly worry about that kind of thing where I’m from. Can we just say you’ve had a good day?”

  Charlie frowned a little at me as I discreetly slid my gear into the thicket beside me. It was an unexpected perk to using a branch for a fishing pole—it was easy to hide.

  “I don’t know…” he hesitated. I could see that it would pain him to lie, but I wasn’t about to wind up back in prison because I’d been caught fishing. Without giving him much time to mull it over, I darted off to find Cara. Maybe she needed help picking flowers. Of course, maybe I needed a permit for that, too, in this crazy place.

  The sound of voices drifted our way. I couldn’t make out the words, but the tone seemed friendly enough. Then the voices stopped. The boat left but I found myself too chicken to go see what had been said. Turns out I didn’t have to. It wasn’t long at all until a rather stern-faced Charlie appeared with a stringer-full of fish and three handmade fishing poles.

  It was obvious he’d talked his way out of any potential trouble, but wasn’t too thrilled with me for having to do so. Cara didn’t seem to notice the tension that had arisen between her father and me. She kept up a steady course of chatter the entire way back to the Torres house.

  “Look at all the fish we caught,” she proudly announced before she was fully out of the car.

  “That’s some catch,” Manny whistled appreciatively. “Do you want me to clean those for you?”

  “I’ve got it,” I waved him off as I took the stringer from Cara. “All of you rest. I’ll cook dinner tonight.”

  “I can help,” Anjelita rose instinctively.

  “I mean it. I can do this. Consider it some small measure of payment for your kindness.”

  “You owe us nothing,” Anjelita frowned a little as if worried she had somehow given me the impression I was indebted to them.

  “Maybe in your eyes I don’t, but I’d feel better nonetheless,” I patted her hand in reassurance. I could feel Charlie’s eyes boring into my back. My reluctance to meet a game warden had certainly raised his suspicions. I tried to come to terms with the fact that I would probably have to move on again now. It made me a little angry. I told myself it shouldn’t, that he was just being a good friend. But it irritated me anyway. I squared my shoulders and took my stringer of fish into the kitchen.

  It occurred to me that most women seem to have the same sense of organization as I was able to easily maneuver Anjelita’s kitchen. It didn’t take long before I had the fish on to fry, some potatoes boiling and some cornbread in the oven. I wondered what it would be like to have a kitchen like this. What would it feel like to have a family to care for every night?

  Then I let my mind wander down an even more agonizing path… what if I had married one of the boys on the reservation instead of heading off to LSU? I knew Ben was getting serious about me. I’d known and I’d left anyway. What would our babies look like if I had married him?

  Thinking about the reservation filled me with a longing to see my home and, more importantly, my brother. I could see his dark eyes dancing merrily with mischief. I could almost hear the deep rumble of his laughter. He was all Coushatta; strong and tall and proud. As I put the piping hot fish on the serving plate, I missed him so much tears burned my eyes.

  So naturally, it was at that moment Charlie entered the kitchen to see if I needed help. I thrust the platter at him and whirled back to the stove, hoping he missed the pained look on my face. He stood there long enough I was pretty sure he hadn’t missed it. Still, I stubbornly ignored him as I pulled the bread out of the oven and put the potatoes in a bowl.

  “Fine. Just fine,” he finally sighed and stomped off. I wasn’t exactly sure what he expected from me. Was I supposed to fall in his arms and confess my deepest secrets to him? A stranger?

  The profuse compliments the dinner received were tainted by the hostility that seemed to be rolling off of Charlie. I guess that was just as well. I was sending a few hostile vibes his way, too.

  The other adults picked up on it but were nice enough to not say anything. I tried not to let Charlie spoil what was looking to be my last meal with the Torres family. I’d come to adore them already, but if someone was questioning me then it was time to move on.

  After the dishes were cleared away and the Russells had gone home, I was sure to get a shower before bed. Who knew how long it would be until I had a chance to get another one. As much as I wanted to throw away the baggy clothes I’d stolen off a clothesline in Louisiana, I knew I needed all the clothing I could get right now. So I washed them out in the sink and hung them on the back porch railing to dry.

  Mamá Torres went to a friend’s house, Isabel went to bed and her parents sat on the porch swing to hold hands and watch the fireflies dance. I pretended to go to sleep on the couch.

  As I lay there, I formulated a plan in my mind. I’d get an early start and go back to the woods I’d seen that day. I knew what mushrooms and herbs were edible. I could harvest some and sell them. If I took the fishing line from the poles, I might be able to find the right stones to make some jewelry to sell.

  I wasn’t too far away from the Ozark Mountains. Maybe I could find some little town nestled in the hills and start fresh there. Or I could go west. I’d always wanted to see the west. Only next time I would remember that you needed a license to do just about anything. I wouldn’t be so careless next time.

  Those are the thoughts that finally lulled me to sleep that night. But it was Charlie that haunted me while I slept. Golden-green eyes seemed more bin
ding than any manmade chain. Instead of bestowing me with kind smiles, the lips in my dreams set a fire blazing in my belly as they met mine.

  After tossing and turning all night and even falling off the couch once, I woke the next morning tired and unsettled. I’d intended to take off before anyone else was awake but Anjelita was already sitting at the kitchen table having a quiet cup of coffee. I poured myself a cup and sat down across from her. Silence hung in the air like the morning mist as we both stared at the mugs in our hands.

  “Sometimes I wonder what you are running from,” Anjelita began softly. “But then I remind myself that it is your story to tell. I don’t know what Charlie did or said to make you want to run again, but I do want you to know you are safe with us.”

  “I don’t deserve the kindness you are showing me,” I couldn’t meet her eyes. What would she say if she knew she’d let a convicted murderer near her child? Would her kind eyes then fill with hatred?

  “None of us deserve grace. That’s what makes it beautiful,” Anjelita reached out to take my hand in hers. “You are free to do as you wish, of course. But I hope you stay. Let us help you find your way here. I know we have little to offer, but I welcome you as a sister in my home.”

  “Why do you care so much?” I could only whisper.

  “To be honest, I don’t know why. But I do. Everything in me is saying that you just need a chance—someone to shelter you from the storm while you find your path.”

  “I don’t think Charlie likes me much,” I struggled to reconcile what I wanted with what I felt I must do.

  “I wouldn’t worry yourself too much about that. If I had to guess, I’d say Charlie likes you and doesn’t know what to make of it.”

  “I seriously doubt that,” I tried not to snort in derision at the thought. I’m not sure I was all that successful. “So assume I do stay for just a little while, what are your expectations of me? I mean, should I keep going to work with you? Find a job in town? Do you care?”