Tragic Renewal (19 page)

One shaking hand stitched the still dribbling wound together while the other searched the end table for the cell phone. The rubbery silicon case gripped tight in her hand, she punched in Noah’s number from memory.

“Hi, sweet thing, watcha doing?” Noah’s tone soothed racing heartbeats while breath hitched out without words.

The shakes racing through her body in opposition to a composed voice. “Noah, I need help. Ziggie’s shot and Scott is dead on the couch. Please call the sheriff and come help bring Ziggie to the vet… please hurry.” A sob tore from a dry throat defying the calmness so recently displayed.

Noah hesitated before answering, the unexpected news must have thrown a loop in whatever he planned to say. “What? What happened?” His voice came out as a strangled whisper coated in cotton.

“Sc-Sco-Scott came here, he… shot Ziggie. I killed Scott. Please hurry.” Earlier calmness fled as reality dripped into adrenaline.

“Harper, stay calm, I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

She heard Grayson’s name being shouted as the call ended. Both hands tightened the long streak of blood crossing over Ziggie’s wide forehead. A twinge of hope blossomed as she studied the wound. Fingers twitched thick black hair aside for a closer inspection. A ball of relief pounded through temples and released building tension.

Ziggie whined and one eye opened. He struggled to move, but Harper pushed him down. “Stay still boy, you’re gonna be okay.” She leaned close to a fuzzy ear. “You saved my life big doggy, you better hold on so I can save yours.”

Blood soaked the knees of her pants but she refused to move from Ziggie’s side. His breath huffed in out in an even life-assuring pattern. Boyd squirmed in his carrier as the minutes ticked by.

Heavy footsteps pounded on stairs and across wood floor. A sigh of relief escaped pent up lungs as Noah kneeled next to Ziggie. Noah pushed her hands to the side and bumped Harper with an insistent elbow. He clasped a clean towel over Ziggie’s wound. “Breathe, honey, it’ll be okay. Whose kid?”

In the earlier rush she’d forgotten to tell Noah about Boyd. She shrugged. “Long story, but the gist is Isabella screwed around on Scott and got pregnant.” Harper considered for a moment about Scott’s last words before death. “I think, no it can’t be.”

Noah looked at Harper, curiosity etching dark brows. “Fess up hon, whatever it is will work out.”

“Scott’s last words were - take Boyd Isa dead, dad didn’t want. What does that mean?” A tiny ember of hope and dread burned in a still-healing heart. Hope in the face of evil seemed unfathomable. She glanced at Boyd before turning back to Noah. “Did Scott kill Isabella?”

Noah watched her work through the possibilities, silent but supportive.

“He would have killed me. He’d lost his mind, I’m sure I did too, after he shot Ziggie. The sick bastard. Ziggie was just protecting me.”

“Harper.”

Lost in thoughts she didn’t respond.

“Harper, honey, look at me.”

Her eyes wandered before meeting his direct stare. Eyes so different from Scott’s, were filled with love and understanding. Hope bloomed for a new future. “Yes?”

“You did the right thing, that man was crazy.”

A new wall formed in her head when she reflected further. “Oh my god, I almost forgot.” Fresh tears poured from squeezed eyelids.

“Harper, stay with me, tell me what else?”

“He caused my miscarriages. Something about an abortion pill, he made me search for it so I’d figure it out. He put it in hot fudge sundaes.”

“That son of a bastard bitch! I knew there was something there.”

Harper’s body continued to tremble. “Cara wrote a letter suspecting the same. How in the hell was I so naïve? I agonized over it being my fault.”

Noah stroked hair back from Harper’s face. His fingers were sticky with Ziggie’s blood but neither noticed.

They turned at clomping stomps on the stairs. Simultaneously, both shouted. “No Grayson!”

Harper looked over and saw fear on Grayson’s face. Grayson’s eyes took in the sight of bloody hands, the view to the couch blocked by the open front door. “Honey, can you go back outside for me? I need you to sit on the porch and watch for Sheriff Jenkins to get here.”

He nodded, eyes wide with fear and trust. He clomped back to the porch and sat on the top step to play sentry.

A wave of relief washed over Harper before she turned back to Noah. “Do you think he’ll live?” She thrust her chin toward Ziggie. Ziggie flapped his tail, answering the question before Noah responded.

Noah grinned. “He’ll be just fine, and so will you, and so will that active little guy.” He pointed at Boyd.

Boyd’s arms flapped as he batted the toys hanging on the handle of the carrier.

They turned at the piercing wail of a siren, drawing attention from Boyd. The first siren was followed by a second with a different warbling tone.

Puzzled, Harper looked at Noah.

“Sounds like an ambulance,” he said. A perplexed looked crossed his face, then he snapped his fingers. “Since Scott’s beyond saving,” Noah thumbed his finger at the still corpse “it must be for Ziggie. I told Sheriff Jenkins Ziggie got shot trying to protect you.”

Harper smiled and enjoyed the warmth suffusing a distraught body and mind. She was home and would live the rest of her years in a small unexpected town.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Sheriff Jenkins pushed Noah and Harper out the door, told them to ride in the ambulance with Ziggie. The sheriff’s wife, Mary, accompanied him and insisted they leave Boyd and Grayson with her, reassuring them she would shield both boys from the bloody scene in the living room.

More cars arrived as the ambulance trundled up the drive and turned onto the main road. Harper saw a coroner van pass them, the grim reaper coming to claim a victim.

One Year Later

Ziggie rose from his dog bed, stretching and yawning. His coat glistened in the early morning light as he made his way to Boyd’s high-chair, forever on the hunt for stray crumbs. Boyd squealed in delight when he spotted Ziggie.

Boyd’s chubby legs kicked and flailed as he tossed pancake pieces to Ziggie. Ziggie snatched each piece with the delicacy of bone crushing teeth snapping together. Each morsel disappeared in a flash and warranted a quick tongue swipe in case a dollop of whip cream clung to his teeth. He planted himself next to the high-chair and watched Boyd with an adoring gaze.

Harper and Noah sat at the table with Grayson as they ate pancakes covered in whip cream and strawberries. Grayson laughed as Boyd tossed another piece, missing Ziggie’s mouth causing him to make a mad dash before it hit the floor. Ziggie ended his dash in an undignified sprawl, but kept the pancake chunk from ever touching tile.

Noah reached to squeeze Harper’s hand. “Honey, have I told you how much I love you and our life?” He swung his arm around in a circle.

She smiled and squeezed his hand back. “Honey, you tell me every day.”

They had been married for six months, their early morning indulgence celebrating their life together.

One week earlier they had finalized Boyd’s adoption. Scott had told the truth about Isabella’s death and Boyd’s father not wanting another child. Even though Boyd’s birth certificate listed Scott as his father, Harper contacted his real father to eliminate any parental claims. She’d taken a trip to Mississippi and met with him in person and watched him sign paperwork dissolving any parental rights. Though he and Isabella had planned criminal acts on their future victim, lack of any criminal history kept him out of jail and able to care for his and Isabella’s other children.

When she met him she could see the love he held for Isabella and the sadness at her death. Harper tried to understand the circumstances that befell the couple driving them to plan a murder for insurance money. He’d given her the best gift a person could receive when he signed his name to those papers without deception. After he signed and told her to take care of his son, Harper offered him money to help him get through the rough times. He refused and walked away his head shaking a decisive negative.

Harper was cleared of any wrong doing in Scott’s death. She perceived a tweak of sadness when she thought of him but couldn’t bring herself to miss the monster he turned out to be. She would never know if he had a mental deficit that caused his issues, but when honest with herself she didn’t care. He’d fooled many people into believing the façade he projected. He’d brought her Boyd, which in no way made up for the children he’d murdered, but made living with that knowledge easier.

Upon completion of the gazebo they spent family time in it every day. Honoring Cara and her lost boys was a significant part of their daily routine, no matter the weather they gathered on the cozy benches for a quiet remembrance. Typical complications and frenetic energy expected in a family with two small boys calmed when embraced within the gazebo’s hexagon walls.

The farm was turning into a great success. The previous summer had yielded a surprising turn-out of visitors looking to buy their fresh fruits and vegetables. Harper and Noah planned to allow a few days of u-pick on the orchards as a few trees had come into bearing earlier than expected. Over the coming years the trees would produce more than they could sell, allowing Harper to try her hand at homemade pies, jams, and other treats. Last fall they had planted hundreds of blackberry and raspberry vines. Harper imagined buckets of berries and little boys stained purple from pilfering her wares.

The horses had a new several acre paddock fenced in white vinyl rails as Cara had imagined when she bought the place. They had two new friends in their paddock; a stray goat found wandering the highway, and a pony they had purchased for Grayson’s fifth birthday.

When Noah and Grayson moved in, Noah dismantled the monster slide and built an entire playground in her backyard for the boys to play. Grayson loved being a big brother and watched over Boyd almost as much as Ziggie. Ziggie appointed himself guard of all living things and checked each member of his family, including the horses and goat.

Boyd grew and filled out more each day. An outside observer would assume he was Harper’s child by blood, not chance. His hair had a slight wave to its texture, but his skin was an exact match to Harper’s dark coloring and his eyes could have been plucked from her head. His baby happiness grew each day. He’d never known a dark day in his life, nothing pulled him into a fussy funk, and he smiled and giggled through it all. When he was old enough Harper would share his dark beginnings, but for the time being lived in calm contentment with her now-complete family.

Noah worked tirelessly to complete renovations on their home. Day by day it came closer to completion. Its fresh coat of white paint contrasted with black shutters, hardwood floors sanded and lacquered to perfection, and the new metal roof gleamed in the sunlight. Every floor and wall inside had signs of updating, from new fixtures in the bathrooms to new paint on the walls. Their new living room furniture was arranged around a plasma TV and an area rug depicting Harper’s Indian heritage, graced the floor. The combination of modern and traditional reflected their woven-together eclectic style.

The
Get a Life
card no longer resided in her wallet. It now held a place of reverence in a frame on her nightstand. It sat alongside photos of their wedding day and a family photo taken in the fall – all of them in a pile of colorful leaves and Ziggie watching their crazy antics from the side. Though Harper wasn’t superstitious she believed the scrawled message played a starring role in her ability to change her life when it was most important.

Grayson and Boyd had their own bedrooms in the rambling house, but somehow Boyd always ended up snuggled in Grayson’s bed before the sun rose each morning. Ziggie liked to complete their boy pile by shoving his body, more than twice their combined weight, into the too small bed. Many mornings found two boys sleeping on their personal bear-sized dog.

Harper missed Cara every day, but as time passed the ache of loss slipped deeper. Cara’s death had allowed Harper the chance to start over and meet the loves of her life. Her life-musings a year ago would have never included a rural farm, carpenter, and two gorgeous little boys. Renewal took time and the right set of circumstances, there was no way around it.

I hope you enjoyed reading TRAGIC RENEWAL. If you did, please take a few minutes to review it on Amazon.com. In our electronic age everything has a rating and reviews mean the world to authors. I sincerely appreciate the time it takes to write a review, so for those that take time from their busy days to write a review I’d like to say thanks in advance. Continue reading for more of my novels.

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You can visit my website for more of my (and my family’s) writing.

www.familywriters.com