Dorothy Garlock - [Tucker Family] (21 page)

“Howdy, Uncle Samuel,” Tyler said as they got out of the car. “I hope you don’t mind my having a word with your new nurse. This time, I promise I won’t kidnap her.”

“I’d appreciate that.” Dr. Barlow nodded. “I’ll be inside when you’re done, Christina.” Without another word, he headed inside.

“Boy, he’s in a sour mood today.” Tyler frowned.

“It’s because Eunice Hester died,” Christina explained. From the moment she’d gotten out of the car, she’d been unable to meet Tyler’s eyes, instead keeping them at her feet.

“That’s too bad. Although I reckon even she knew she was living on borrowed time.”

“I should probably go and see if he’s okay,” Christina said quickly, shuffling her feet toward the door. She knew that the longer she spent with Tyler, the greater the chance she’d have to come clean, and right then she just wasn’t ready to face his probable reaction.

“Now hold your horses for a moment,” Tyler replied, gently but firmly taking Christina by the arm. “I hoofed it all the way from the garage to show you the gift I made, so the least you can do is take a look.”

“Gift?”

“Here.” He handed her the box. Inside, she found the same mesh and cloth outfit he’d shown her when he’d taken her to see his beehives.

“It’s a beekeeper’s clothes,” Christina said.

“Right as rain.”

“I don’t understand. You’ve already shown me this.”

Tyler shook his head. “This isn’t the same one,” he explained. “What you’re holding is the one I made for you. It took me a bit longer than I’d expected, but now you can join me, that is, if you still want to.”

The thoughtfulness of Tyler’s gift was enough to overwhelm the last remaining defenses Christina had built around her shame. No matter what she might’ve wanted, it would’ve been impossible to stop the downpour of tears that came gushing from her eyes.

“What’s the matter?” Tyler asked with concern, undoubtedly surprised to find that instead of the gratitude he might’ve expected, he got tears. “If you’ve decided against harvesting the h-h-h-ives with me, that’s f-f-ine,” he stammered, utterly confused. “I just thought…because of what you said…”

Christina knew she had no choice; she couldn’t be around Tyler, not now, not after what she’d done.

Dropping the box onto the ground, she yanked her arm free of his grasp and dashed toward the back door of the clinic.

“Christina!” Tyler shouted. “Wait!”

But she was already inside, leaning her weight against the door, hoping that he wouldn’t come after her and demand an explanation for how upset she’d been. Long seconds ticked by, but nothing happened. Finally, Christina opened the door to check, certain that he would be just on the other side, waiting her out.

But Tyler wasn’t there, leaving Christina alone with her misery.

It seemed that she was making a habit out of running away from the Sutter brothers.

F
OR THE THIRD
TIME
in nearly as many days, Christina heard sounds on the stairs that led to her apartment. She lay in bed, hardly stirring, when there was a sharp knock on the door, and wondered if she should answer.

What I really need now is to be left alone.

Christina’s evening had been quiet. She’d come home from work exhausted, both physically and mentally. After a simple dinner, she’d tried to do some reading, thought about going for a walk, but her mind was such a state that she’d decided the best course was to go to bed early, get a good night’s sleep, and start again in the morning. She’d even had the irrational hope that maybe a solution to her problems would come to her in a dream.

Lying in bed, she found sleep as elusive as a slippery fish struggling to get back to its watery home. No matter how much she tossed and turned, she couldn’t get her dilemma with Tyler and Holden out of her mind. So instead, she’d stared at the ceiling as the hours drifted by.

But now she had a visitor.

Which of the Sutter brothers stood outside her door? After what had occurred in front of the school, Holden had plenty to apologize for. On the other hand, Tyler was undoubtedly confused by what had happened that afternoon. Maybe he’d come for an explanation, one she still didn’t want to give.

The knock came again.

Christina sighed deeply.

There seemed little chance she could just lie in her bed and pretend she wasn’t home. Regardless of which brother was out there, he’d probably become so worried he’d knock her door down. There was no choice but to get up and face the consequences.

Putting on her robe, Christina turned on a light in the living room and went to the door. Her hope had been to put this moment off, if only for a little while longer. She turned the knob and opened the door.

Before she could see who stood on her landing, something struck her out of the night, flooding her arm with excruciating pain. The agony was so great, so unexpected, that she screamed as much out of surprise as hurt. But even as she grasped her arm, she was struck again and again.

The only way for Christina to get away was to fall onto her back and desperately try to wiggle away. It was then, scuttling on the palms of her hands, trying to elude the vicious assault, that she finally got a look at her attacker.

The person on the other side of the door hadn’t been Tyler or Holden.

It was a woman.

The moment Christina Tucker opened her door, the instant Annette saw her face, the rage she’d struggled to keep inside of her exploded. Gritting her teeth, she swung the steel pipe as hard as she could. The feel of it striking Christina’s arm was ecstasy. Blinded by anger, Annette swung over and over, hitting her rival for Tyler’s affections, hoping to break her bones into tiny pieces, all with the grim determination to go back to the way things used to be, back before she’d interfered with the future Annette so desperately wanted.

If I have to, I’ll kill you. Tyler is mine!

After days of watching Christina strut around Longstock as if she were the prettiest girl at the church dance, Annette had decided to act. Watching Luther Rickert knock Christina to the ground had been satisfying, but Annette knew it would take
much
stronger measures to send the message that Tyler Sutter was off-limits.

That evening, Annette had followed Christina on the short walk from the doctor’s office to her apartment and then waited in the shadows across the street, hoping the bitch wouldn’t have any company. Hours had slowly passed. Eventually, Christina had shut off her light, but Annette still didn’t move. She’d wanted to be certain her rival had gone to sleep; if she was groggy when finally confronted, she’d be far less capable of fighting back. Once midnight had come and gone, Annette knew the time had come. Squeezing her steel pipe so hard that her hand hurt, she’d made her way up the staircase. After a simple knock on the door, she’d waited, certain that this night would be better, more satisfying, than when she’d shown Caroline Satterly the error of her ways.

“Stay away from him!” Annette shouted, stalking after Christina as she scuttled away in terror. “You’re not good enough! Only I am! Me!”

“Who-who are you?” Christina asked, her voice panicked, her eyes wide with shock and pain.

Annette answered with her pipe, swinging it hard against Christina’s knee; the sound of her scream was sweet music to Annette’s ears.

“Why is he interested in a whore like you?” Annette screamed so hard that her throat hurt. “You must’ve lied to him! Deceived him! Why else would he show you his bees?”

For the first time since Annette burst through her door, Christina appeared to have some idea of why she was being attacked. “T-Tyler?” she stammered. “This is about Tyler…?”

Listening to the slut saying Annette’s beloved’s name drove her over the edge. With a snarl, Annette again swung the pipe at Christina’s legs, but this time she must’ve been too obvious; quickly the wounded woman slid to the side, and the pipe struck nothing but the wooden floor below; the weapon hit the ground so hard it sent sharp needles of pain racing up the length of Annette’s arms.

“Don’t you dare say his name!” Annette bellowed.

Christina tried to roll over onto her side, struggling to get to her feet, but the effort seemed too great for her. While she was on her knees, Annette kicked Christina in the rear, sending her sprawling onto her face with a thud. Wisps of a smile curled at the corners of Annette’s mouth when she saw how helpless Christina truly was, but it wasn’t enough to quell the boiling rage seething inside her.

“Everything was fine before you came here!” Annette shouted. “We were going to be married! I just needed more time, but then you came along and ruined everything!”

“Wait!” Christina yelled. “Wait!”

“Everything will go back to the way it should once you’re gone!” Annette yelled, shouting over Christina’s protests. “I’ll be the one who marries him! I’ll be the one sharing his bed! Not you!”

Deciding to end things once and for all, Annette raised the pipe and prepared to strike. It’d be so simple: just drive the steel rod into the back of Christina’s head. If she died, no one would discover who’d done it. With her gone, Tyler would need someone to help him through his grief, someone who’d give him whatever he needed.

But just as Annette swung the pipe downward, Christina desperately kicked out, striking her just below the knee; it was enough to unbalance her, making her legs wobble before she tumbled to the floor, landing awkwardly on her shoulder. The metal pipe flew from her hand, skittering off into the corner.

Annette was not hurt, wasn’t frightened that Christina had managed to defend herself; she even wasn’t surprised that it’d happened. All she felt was anger.

If it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to kill this whore!

Christina knew she had to get away. Whoever this woman was, she was absolutely crazy. Even though Christina had managed to knock her off her feet and separate her from the iron pipe that had inflicted bruises on her arms, hands, and knee, she was far from safe. Her attacker still lay between her and the door, so Christina glanced toward the windows; it might be worth trying to reach them, but as hurt as she was, there was little chance to get one open before she was again assaulted.

Even as Christina struggled about what to do, she wondered about the woman’s identity. From what she’d been shouting, it was clear she was infatuated with Tyler. He’d never mentioned another woman.

So who is she?

Suddenly, Christina remembered the enormous house Holden had stopped before the night he’d kissed her. He’d spoken about a girl who was in love with Tyler, who’d been obsessed with him ever since they’d been children. Was this the
same
woman?

“Annette?” she asked softly, the name rising through the fog of memory.

Though the crazed woman didn’t reply, Christina knew from her reaction that she’d been right; Annette’s eyes grew wide and her jaw clenched tightly. Immediately she scrambled to her feet, so Christina did the same.

Christina’s knee throbbed so badly that she could barely put any weight on it; the moment the pipe had struck, she’d feared it might be broken. But now that she was upright, she tried to put the pain out of her mind and focus on getting away.

But Annette had a different idea.

Christina had hoped her attacker would go after the pipe, looking away long enough for her to burst past and out onto the landing. Instead, Annette charged her with the viciousness of a starving wolf, the taste of blood on its muzzle.

Annette bowled into Christina so hard she couldn’t stay on her feet. The two of them crashed to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs. Christina landed on her back, the air driven from her lungs; her head struck the floor so hard that she saw stars blinking before her eyes. Before she could react, Annette grabbed two fistfuls of her hair, yanking with all her might.

“You won’t have him!” she cried, tears streaking her cheeks. “I won’t let you come between us!”

Filled with a furious anger, Annette pulled Christina’s hair one way and then the other. With surprising strength, Annette drove her victim’s head down to the floor; desperately, Christina tried to keep the blackness crowding the edges of her vision from overcoming her. The pain was incredible as her eyes filled with tears.

Frantically, Christina mustered what little strength remained to her, certain that if she didn’t, Annette was going to kill her. Balling up her fist, she punched as hard as she could, striking the crazed woman in the stomach. The blow wounded Annette; air whooshed from between her snarled lips, and, while her hands remained tangled in Christina’s hair, her grip relaxed. Again and again, Christina punched, sensing an opportunity to get free. For a moment, it looked as if it might work; Annette tottered unsteadily above her, but then Christina was slapped so hard she saw more stars and her hope faded.

Fear raced through Christina. Only minutes had passed since she’d opened her door, but it felt as if she’d spent hours fending off Annette’s attack. Christina’s whole body hurt from being struck by the pipe, wrestled to the floor, and now pummeled in the head. Though she was fighting back as best as she could, she knew it wouldn’t be enough, that soon she’d be defenseless.

But just as Christina was about to give up hope, Annette was lifted off her as easily as if she were a child’s doll. All Christina could see were Annette’s two kicking feet before she was flung toward the door.

“What in the hell are you doing?”

Blinking through tears, Christina saw Tyler standing above her, his face a mask of confusion and anger. He was looking at Annette, who’d already scrambled back to her feet and was again going after Christina. Tyler grabbed Annette, holding her in place, but she was so desperate to get at Christina, straining so hard, that he was forced to lift her from the floor.

“I won’t let her come between us!” Annette yelled, her voice shrill, full of violence and insanity.

“Stop it, Annette!” Tyler shouted. “Stop fighting me!”

Though he was the object of her infatuation, Tyler’s words seemed to enrage Annette further. Christina was shocked to see her clawing madly at his arm, desperate to break free.

“Let me go!” she hollered. “Let go, damn you! I’ll kill her! I’ll—”

With his free hand, Tyler slapped Annette hard across her face. The sound was like the cracking of a whip, filling the apartment. The blow was solid; immediately Annette’s cheek flushed a bright red. Her eyes grew wide with shock, filling with tears, as she crumpled to the floor at his feet.

Christina wanted to get up, run to him, and bury herself in his arms so that she could feel safe. But the wave of darkness that had threatened her finally crested, crashing down and pulling her under.

She saw Tyler bending down toward her, his mouth moving, and then everything went black.

Sitting on the examination table in the doctor’s office, Christina winced as Dr. Barlow poked and probed around her knee. Every touch felt as if a thousand needles were being jabbed into her skin. Her knuckles were white from gripping the table beneath her. Biting down on her lower lip, she tried to squelch the scream welling in her throat. She tried to focus on the wall opposite her, but the effort made her vision swim.

“I don’t think anything’s broken,” the doctor said once he’d finished. “But I reckon you’re going to be black-and-blue come morning. You’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”

“She meant to kill me,” Christina said, shivering at the memory.

“Don’t worry. Annette won’t be a danger to anyone now.”

In the aftermath of Annette’s assault, Tyler had first phoned his uncle and then called the sheriff. Annette Wilson now sat in one of Longstock’s jail cells. Once her father had been notified of what happened, he’d ranted and raged, demanding that his daughter be set free, but nothing would be getting her out for a long time. Since she’d been slapped Annette hadn’t said a single word but had only cried, her head in her hands, her blond hair shaking with each sob.

“That girl was always a bit odd,” Dr. Barlow said. “All those years pining for someone who didn’t want her must’ve sent her over the edge.”

Christina looked over at Tyler. He stood in the doorway, his arms folded sternly across his chest, his eyes never leaving her. Usually, his look was easygoing, carefree, a smile only a joke away. Now, there was no humor to be seen in his frown of concern.

“All that matters now is Christina,” Tyler said. “She took a heck of a beating before I got there.”

“She checks out all right.”

“I’m more worried about her head. With the way she blacked out, something could be wrong that you can’t see.”

“I’m fine,” Christina tried to reassure him, but even as the words left her mouth she was again submerged beneath a wave of dizziness and had to steady herself on the table. When her vision cleared, she found that he’d moved to stand beside her, his fingers gently touching her own.