Loving Tenderness (2 page)

Clean, but not feeling wholly cleansed, Hannah turned off the tap, grabbed a towel, and dried herself while her mind raced with questions. She needed safety and comfort. She needed protection from Jack. Tonight the shelter would provide that, but what about tomorrow and next week and the week after that?

Loving Arms. The name wrapped around her. That’s what she needed—loving arms to hold her close and guard her against hurt and evil. Her mind flew back to her childhood days and a picture book her mother had given her. It was filled with stories of Jesus, and she recalled the one where Jesus stood with his arms open to the children. Today she wanted to be that child, wrapped in Jesus’s loving arms. Anger tore through her instead, as she envisioned God’s arms folded tightly across His chest, unwelcoming. He hadn’t opened them to her. What had she done for God to forsake her?

Hannah made her way back to the bedroom and
crawled in beside JJ. He shifted as she settled in, and she touched his warm, relaxed hand, thankful that he hadn’t seen what had happened. She’d pulled him from sleep to make their escape.

She rolled on her side and closed her eyes, longing to fall asleep and awaken to find it had been a bad dream.

In the morning when Hannah opened her eyes to the strange surroundings, the night’s events crashed down around her, and she knew it hadn’t been a dream at all.

Seeing JJ’s chest still rising and falling in deep slumber, she gazed at him a moment, seeing his brown curly hair pressed against his head by beads of perspiration. He looked so innocent. Hannah inched her legs over the edge of the bed so as not to disturb him and gathered her thoughts.

During the night her anger had given way to resentment. She’d been able to stand on her own after Jack left, and Hannah loved her independence. It gave her pride to provide a home and support for her son. Now she felt displaced.

In a few weeks, she would begin a better-paying job, one that could give them a few luxuries.
Work?
This morning, the word filled her with questions. If she worked today, she would have to worry about Jack showing up at the salon. Plus, Jack had hidden her keys so she’d left her car at the apartment. Though she had extra keys somewhere, she needed to find them, and now she feared returning for them.

And their clothes. Hannah thought about her closets at home and wondered when she could go back inside. She eyed the pile of garments on the chair where she’d dropped them the night before. She rummaged through
the stack until she found a pair of slacks and a top that looked as though they might fit.

The scent of coffee drifted beneath the bedroom door. She didn’t like being beholden to anyone, but it was temporary, and she appreciated the help. One bright memory was the man who picked them up on the road— Philip Somerville’s brother Andrew. He made her curious. The Somervilles knew nothing about poverty or hardship. They’d lived in the lap of luxury all their lives. Yet he’d stopped to give her a ride. Perhaps it was his good deed for the day, but she appreciated his kindness.

In the bathroom, Hannah brushed her teeth and faced the mirror. She looked worse than she had the night before. The bruise had darkened to a deep purple edged with sickly green. She lifted her chin. Jack could hurt her body, but he couldn’t destroy her spirit.

Though she’d washed the blood from her lip the night before, her lip remained swollen. She dug into her purse for lipstick and dragged the tube of coral across her mouth, wincing at the pressure. Internal scars could be hidden—she’d lived that way much of her life—but the outer ones were a visual reminder of Jack’s rage. He’d tried to bring her down before, but he’d failed. He would fail again. Hannah would come out the winner.

Andrew straightened his tie as he neared his office at Bay Breeze Resort. He felt weary and rattled as he covered a yawn. He’d awakened before sunrise—not awakened really, because he hadn’t really slept at all, thinking of the woman and child. So he’d risen and come to work. Even at this early hour, seeing eager guests at breakfast or already outside in the cool morning sunshine wearing jackets and coats surprised him.

He stepped into the lobby. He had always admired his father’s vision of the hotel and all that it offered—tennis courts, golf, gardens, fine dining and well-appointed rooms. During the seven years Andrew had been gone, his father had died and Philip had taken over the reins. Under Philip’s guidance, the resort had blossomed and now offered sailing and many other amenities that helped make it one of the finest resorts in the area.

The memory of the years he’d been gone clouded Andrew’s thoughts. He’d walked away, left the family home and business to strike out on his own. He’d taken his share of his inheritance and headed into a world that failed him. No, he’d failed, and that was what had hurt so badly. Then he’d been too ashamed to come home, needy and empty. The experience raked at his pride and self-worth.

The thing that hurt the most had been—

“Andrew.”

Hearing his brother’s voice, Andrew turned. “What are you doing here?”

“Just visiting. We haven’t seen you lately, and I wondered how things are going. Ian said he’s turning the resort over to you while he and his family go on vacation. A well-deserved one, I might add.”

Andrew studied his brother’s face. Did Philip doubt he could handle the manager’s job? Ian Barry would only be gone two weeks. Andrew felt certain he could deal with the resort details for that short time, but— He stopped his negative thoughts. “I said I’d manage the place for the fortnight, unless you have some reservations.”

“Reservations?” Philip’s forehead wrinkled as a frown settled over his face. “No. I think it’s a great idea. You know the business backward and forward. If I hadn’t
given the manager’s job to Ian before you returned home, I’d have given it to you happily. You know that.”

Insecurity clawed at Andrew. “Thanks for your confidence, but I’ve been away a long time. You’ve made a lot of changes.”

“Yes, but you’ve been back for a few months now. It’s not that different. The marina is the biggest change, but we have staff who know that business.”

Philip had a knack for hiring quality people. He’d been a workaholic for years, just like his father. That’s why Andrew had left. He hadn’t been able to compete with them, and he’d hoped being on his own would help him find his own niche and prove his worth. Unfortunately, he hadn’t succeeded.

“So what about dropping by for dinner?” Philip asked. “Ellie misses you, and since Jemma’s due in another month, she won’t be up for preparing you a home-cooked meal after the baby comes. You don’t want to settle for my cooking, do you?”

Andrew grinned, knowing cooking wasn’t one of his brother’s talents. He envisioned Philip’s wife Jemma, a woman filled with grace and charm who’d made Philip a new man.

When Andrew had returned to town, he’d spotted her rounded belly and, surprising himself, envied Philip’s fatherhood. Three-year-old Ellie, as sunny as her mother, couldn’t help but make him smile. “How about Friday night?”

“Friday it is. We’ll see you then,” Philip said. He squeezed Andrew’s shoulder and headed toward the registration desk.

Andrew watched him for a moment, then turned toward the broad expanse of lobby windows that looked
out onto Lake Michigan. Along the sidewalk, he saw a young woman and boy walking hand in hand—mother and son, he guessed, and his mind slipped back to the evening before.

Hannah and JJ had filled his mind as he tried to sleep, and he still couldn’t shake the image of their drenched forms the night before. Their lives had been upset by something brutal, so unlike the carefree young woman and child he now observed through the window. As he watched, the young woman prodded the boy, and he ran forward into the arms of a man—his father probably. The woman joined them, and they walked arm in arm down the path toward the lake’s sparkling water—a happy family.

A sunshiny lake had not been what greeted Hannah on this bright morning, Andrew knew. She’d probably awakened in a barren room inside the Loving Arms Women’s Shelter. His stomach tightened as he recalled awakening in one too many barren hotel rooms himself after too many drinks had blurred his thoughts and drowned out his failures.

He’d never been a drinker before he left home, but somehow, his life had changed from a walk with God to a walk with sin. He’d wallowed away his days on speculative business deals and eager women looking for a man with money. Now nothing seemed to relieve him from those painful recollections.

Andrew turned away from the window and shifted direction toward the restaurant. He would make sure everything was running as smooth as their chocolate silk pie, and then he hoped to slip out and make a quick trip to Loving Arms to check on Hannah. He sensed she needed help, and he wanted to offer his assistance.

As the plan began forming in his mind, he recalled her insistence on lugging JJ up the porch stairs without his aid. He pictured the determination on her face. Maybe what he now sensed was his own need and not Hannah’s at all.

H
annah lowered the telephone receiver and leaned against the hall stand. Missing work hadn’t been her preference, but Lucy had insisted, saying she needed to get her thoughts and possessions together. Their clothing was at the apartment, and she needed to retrieve it, along with her car. JJ needed to have his own toys, too. She wanted to protect JJ from any more upheaval than necessary.

She shook her head and returned to the kitchen, eyeing her half-empty coffee cup. The contents felt cold to the touch, and she headed to the pot to warm it. Except for Lucy, she hadn’t heard a soul that morning and it was already nine. Lucy had popped into the kitchen earlier to say she’d spent the morning filling out report forms and would be leaving as soon as her replacement arrived.

Irritation skittered up Hannah’s back. She wanted to leave, but she felt bound to the shelter. Though she tried to block the thought, she couldn’t help wondering if Jack had been driving the streets looking for her. Jack’s violence preoccupied her. She’d done everything she
could to stop his ranting. In Proverbs, God said a gentle answer turns away wrath, but it hadn’t worked on Jack. Nothing had.

Hannah looked up when she heard Lucy.

“I’ll be leaving now,” Lucy said, slipping on her coat.

“Thanks again for your help last night,” Hannah said, truly grateful the woman had answered the door.

“That’s what I’m here for. I’ll see you tonight.” Lucy gestured behind her. “I’m leaving you in good hands.”

As she said those words, another woman appeared in the doorway. “Hi,” she said, stepping forward and extending her hand. “I’m Annie Dewitt. I live next door.”

Her comment confused Hannah. She glanced at Lucy, then back to the attractive blond woman. “You’re a neighbor? At first I thought you worked here.”

“I do. It’s very convenient living next door.”

Hannah felt a smile rise to her face, and the grin stretched her swollen skin. She rose and accepted the woman’s hand in a firm, amiable shake. Hannah liked her immediately. Her direct look and her smile made Hannah feel more at ease than she’d felt since she’d left her apartment in the middle of the night.

Lucy waved goodbye, leaving her alone with Annie who’d headed for the coffeemaker. Before Hannah returned to her seat, she strode to the doorway and listened for sounds of JJ stirring. She heard nothing.

When she turned, Annie had poured a cup of coffee and settled onto a chair.

“Where are the others?” Hannah asked, joining her.

Annie’s brows lifted in question. “Staff, you mean?”

“No. Other women. Children.”

“You’re alone today. People come and go. Once they feel safe again, they return home or sometimes move in
with family for a while. Security and independence are what we want for our families, and we do everything we can to empower them.”

That’s what Hannah wanted—security and independence, without fear of Jack’s threats.

Annie took another sip, then lowered the coffee cup to the table. “You have a son, Lucy tells me.”

“Yes. JJ. He’s four and a half.” She gestured toward the hallway. “He’s still sleeping. It was late when we left home.” Her heart lurched at the memory. “Jack hasn’t hurt him, and I can’t believe he would, but I’m afraid it’s possible.”

Annie gave her a compassionate look. “Jack is your husband?”

“No.” The question stung Hannah. “We’re—” The words wouldn’t come.

“Divorced,” Annie said, her voice tender with understanding.

“Yes. I hate the word. I tried everything to keep us together, but he became more and more violent and even dragged a woman home to flaunt at me, then later begged my forgiveness. I couldn’t live that way.”

Annie gave her a long, searching look. “Do you still love Jack?”

“Love? No. That died with my self-esteem. Jack fought leaving the apartment, but finally he did. He let me be for a while. He didn’t even come to see JJ—JJ’s short for Jack Junior—but then he started harassing me. Why? I don’t know. Maybe he got bored or he’s low on funds or couldn’t hang on to another woman he could slap around.”

“You put up with it a long time?”

Hannah’s arms prickled with gooseflesh. “Too long.
He wasn’t that way before we married. Occasionally he’d roughhouse, but when I let out a yell, he’d stop. Once we married it was a different story. I was his property, and he figured he could do what he wanted. At first he wasn’t too violent—a push, a slap, nasty language—but then, he began to punch and kick me. I realized it would only get worse.”

“You’re right. It’s a sickness. Abuse propagates abuse. He was more than likely an abused child. Sad but true. It doesn’t excuse it, but it explains it.” Annie lifted her cup and took a sip. “That’s not always the case. Some people learn to live normally. They realize it’s wrong and not the solution. Others fall into the family-predisposition trap.”

“His father was a rough man, but Jack never talked about it much.”

“We need to get you a protection order,” Annie said.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a restraining order but for domestic violence cases. I’ll give our nurse a call. Mildred Browne is retired, but she comes in as a volunteer and keeps tabs on our guests. We’ll take some photos of your face. Then a counselor will talk with you.”

Counselor, nurse, photos. The images were too much for Hannah. Tears blurred her vision, and she turned her head away to hide the emotion. She had to remain strong for JJ and for herself. If she didn’t, she would crumble and might never get the pieces back together.

Annie’s expression grew tender. “It’s difficult, I know, but we should document your bruises and cuts. It’s the only way we can litigate if necessary.”

She touched Hannah’s arm where Jack’s fingers had left an impression of his violence. “Since your divorce, has this happened before?”

Hannah cringed at the remembrance of her body pinned to the bed, his rough hands pressing against her skin, her nightgown torn in shreds on the floor, the violation of her body.

“Yes, about three weeks ago. I told him I’d call the police if he came again, but when he showed up last night, I realized it wouldn’t stop. He’d come back. It would never end.” She’d tried to wash away the degradation the night before, but soap and water had only cleaned the surface, not the disgust within her.

Annie rose and headed for the telephone while Hannah sat letting what the woman had said sink in. What good was a protection order? Jack didn’t follow the law. He had a law of his own.

As Annie talked on the telephone, Hannah heard the doorbell chime and, instinctively, rose.

“You shouldn’t answer the door,” Annie said, halting her. “I’ll get it.”

Hannah had forgotten. She had become a prisoner of sorts, yet sadly, a grateful one.

The bell rang again as Annie ended the call, then hurried into the hallway.

From the kitchen, Hannah heard a man’s voice, and she tensed, concerned it might be Jack. Common sense said he couldn’t know where to find her. But Jack was shrewd. He would find a way. Hannah eased closer to the kitchen doorway and listened.

“I’m sorry, but you know I can’t provide any information like that, Mr. Somerville. It’s against our policy.”

“I just want to see if she needs anything.”

“That’s very kind, but we have rules. For now, you’ll have to wait.”

Hannah’s heart tripped, hearing Andrew Somerville’s
request. What was his motivation? Compassion? She had been a stranger the night before, and he’d had no idea what she’d gone through, other than seeing her bruises.

The sound of the door closing sent Hannah back to her chair. As she settled into her seat, Annie came through the doorway, a frown pulling at her soft features. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Andrew Somerville was inquiring about you, but we can’t give out information without your permission. And we need to finish your intake information.”

Hannah nodded. “I understand.” She’d understood Annie’s comment, but she didn’t understand Andrew. What did he think he could do for her? “Mr. Somerville found us walking on the road last night. Jack hid my car keys, and after he fell asleep, we had to walk to get away.”

Annie’s eyebrows arched and lowered within a heartbeat, and Hannah knew Annie wanted an explanation, but Hannah wasn’t ready to talk about what happened. “He was drunk and fell asleep,” she added, hoping that would suffice.

Annie gave her a nod as if she understood. “I hope you understand about Andrew. If he’s a friend—”

“No, I’d never met him before. I don’t know why he came here today.” Though she knew Andrew meant well, his visit puzzled her.

Despite her questions, gratitude filled her. She and JJ might have had to walk into town if he hadn’t come along. He’d taken them into his car despite their appearance and without question. He’d driven them here, he’d offered to carry JJ onto the porch, he’d held an umbrella over her head for shelter. Why couldn’t she accept his kindness without questioning it?

While the question still clung to her thoughts, the doorbell rang again, and Hannah’s stomach somersaulted. Annie rose to answer, and in moments, Hannah heard a female voice. Her attention was drawn to the kitchen doorway as Annie entered followed by a pleasant-looking woman with graying hair.

“Hi Hannah,” she said, extending her hand. “I’m Mildred Browne.”

The name took a minute to register as she accepted the handshake. “The nurse?”

Mildred nodded. “Retired, but still a nurse. I’ve been volunteering at Loving Arms for a few months now.” She sat at the table beside Hannah. “Annie told me you’ve been through a difficult time.” Hannah watched the woman’s focus shift from her eyes to her bruised cheek, then to her cut lip. “I’d like to take some photos if you don’t mind.”

“She has bruises on her arms, too,” Annie said from behind them.

Hannah felt her back tense. She didn’t want to be poked and prodded by these women or by a physician, and she would be if she told Mildred the whole story. Hannah wanted to be free. She wanted her life back.

“Do you have any other marks? Did he harm you in any other way?” Mildred asked.

Hannah swallowed. “These are the only bruises,” she said, turning her arms so Mildred could see them and knowing they were the only visible marks of Jack’s violence.

“This is difficult, I know,” Mildred said. She glanced toward the kitchen doorway. “Perhaps we could find another place to talk?” She glanced at Annie.

“You can use the office,” Annie said, gesturing to
ward the small room on the front of the house adjacent to the kitchen. “If your son wakes up before you’re finished, I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you,” Hannah said, rising and following Mildred into the hallway.

They settled in the office, and Mildred pulled a folder from her tote, then reached inside and pulled out a camera. The older woman took the snapshots she needed while Hannah’s vision blurred with dots from the flash.

When Mildred finished, she put away the camera, then opened the folder and drew out a stack of forms.

Hannah recoiled, knowing she had to relive the memory of Jack’s violation. She struggled with wanting to provide all the information, but not wanting to give all the details. She avoided telling Mildred the worst of Jack’s offenses. What happened had happened, and she’d get over it.

Her mind slid to Andrew’s visit and to the way he’d offered last night to help her. He’d been insistent and had made numerous attempts to be kind. Now, as she thought about it, Andrew’s offer triggered a plan.

Hannah hesitated before beginning. “I’d like to get some of our belongings out of the apartment.” She studied Mildred’s face, hoping to see empathy.

Mildred nodded. “Certainly. When we’re through here, I can give you a ride to your apartment, if you’d like. I’m sure Annie will approve.”

“I have no family to stay with, and I’m afraid Jack will be watching the house and then come here to cause trouble. If we wait a couple of days it might be safer. I know some people I can ask for help.”

“Let’s check with Annie,” Mildred said. “I’m sure you’ll have no problem as long as the plan is safe.”

On Friday, Andrew stood outside Hannah’s apartment complex, still surprised that she had called yesterday and asked for his help. When she explained her scheme, Andrew thought it through and agreed to her idea.

He hit the lock remote on his car, heard the reassuring beep and walked up the sidewalk to the entrance. He eyed the list of occupants: Darwin Lang, Hannah Currey, Carla McCurdy. He pushed the McCurdy button and waited.

“Yes?” a woman’s voice said over the intercom.

“I’m Andrew Somerville. I’m here to pick up some boxes.”

He heard the click of the intercom followed by a lengthy buzz from the door. Andrew grabbed the knob and turned it. The door opened. He headed up the stairs to find apartment 2D. At the top, he looked down the hallway and saw a woman watching him from a doorway.

“Mr. Somerville?”

“Yes,” he said as he headed toward her.

She gave him a smile and beckoned him in. “Hi, I’m Carla. Sorry, but I’m being cautious. This whole thing makes me nervous.”

“I understand,” Andrew said, stepping into her small apartment. He glanced around the living room, neat but plain and worn. “I know Hannah appreciates what you’ve done for her.”

“No problem. I have her spare key, and she has mine, in case of an emergency.” She motioned to a chair. “I’m so glad she’s finally taken a stand. Jack’ll kill her one day if she doesn’t do something now.”

Kill her?
The words jolted through Andrew’s mind.

“You look surprised,” Carla said, “but then you don’t know him.”

Andrew thanked God he didn’t know the man capable of this evil. Hannah’s and JJ’s faces rose in his mind—their looks of fear and pain.

“I was scared to death when I went into the apartment. I thought I heard him leave about three in the morning. He slammed the door so hard it shook the walls, but I was still frightened, worrying maybe he had come back and I hadn’t heard him.”

The woman’s eyes widened, and Andrew sensed her fright. Her words pricked his curiosity. Jack had left at three in the morning. Hannah had left before midnight. If he was her
ex
-husband, why had he stayed so long? If he meant to stop her, why hadn’t he followed her?