Resisting Pressure (Rhinestone Cowgirls Book 5) (12 page)

“I’m Violet Stone, and this is Keefer Lane. We’re friends of your brother, Cal, and he asked if we could stop out and check on you. He’s been trying to call you and he got a little concerned when you didn’t answer.”

“He shouldn’t have asked you to come out here.” Her voice was barely audible.

“I’m sorry if we’re bothering you. Is your husband home?”

A long hesitation crawled by. “No. He’s not.”

Dread filled Violet. “Can we come in and speak to you a moment?”

“No.” There was no hesitation in her answer this time.

“Would you like to step out on the porch?”

As if reluctantly, Molly opened the door wider, pushed through the screen door and stepped out. She wrung her hands against her waist. “What is it? Is Cal okay?” There was a noticeable tremble in her voice.

“Yes, he’s fine. He suffered a minor injury and he’s at the hospital. He’ll be fine.” Violet made sure she kept her voice calm, but she visually examined the mark on Molly’s face, seeing that one side of the bruising had a small gash and had been bleeding.

“That’s good.” Molly looked at Violet but quickly lowered her gaze to her feet.

“I’m a nurse, Molly, and that cut on your cheek looks pretty bad. Did this just happen today?”

The other woman started to touch the spot but dropped her hand. “It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt.”

“It wouldn’t take long for me to take a look and make sure you don’t need stitches,” Violet offered.

She gave her head a fast shake, sending her thin strands of hair around her cheeks. “No. Charles wouldn’t like you being here. He doesn’t like strangers.”

Violet gritted her teeth, resisting the urge to grab the woman by the shoulders and telling her to “Wake up!” Over the years, Violet couldn’t count the number of times she’d seen women come into the emergency room at the hospital with obvious signs of trauma from an abuser, but refusing to reveal the true source of her injuries. All they could do was treat the wounds and watch her leave. And in this case with Molly Peterson, apparently her husband had her scared.

“Molly, I understand, but if that cut gets infected--” A wail sounded from inside of the house. A baby crying. “Do you have a child?”

“That’s Sam. He’s three months old,” Molly answered.

Violet met Keefer’s gaze. This upped the ante. When kids were involved it made abuse more severe, according to Violet.  “Is he alright?”

She nodded, bringing her forefinger to her mouth and nibbling on her already too short nail. “He’s getting hungry.”

“Then trust me, Molly. Let us come in and while you feed Sam, I can tend to your wound.”

All of this time, Keefer had stood a few steps back, quiet, until now. “She’s got a great healing touch, Molly. I know Cal. If we leave here without making sure you’re okay, he’ll never let me live it down. He’s a good friend of mine.”

The woman was obviously afraid that her husband would come home and find them there. She licked her swollen lips and darted a quick glance past Keefer into the driveway as if she mentally calculated when her husband would be returning. “Okay. But we have to make this quick. If he comes home…” She shrugged and opened the screen door wide, allowing Violet and Keefer to pass first.

Violet scanned the space. It was a nice, comfortable room, clean, with pictures on the wall, but unusually bare of furniture. A bassinet stood against the far wall and small fists pumped the air.

Molly took Sam from the bed, cradling him and offering soothing words in his ear. He calmed some, but one fist continued to strike like he played the drums. Violet’s heart filled with concern. She knew all too well that if someone didn’t intervene here, the baby would be in danger. Possibly not physically, but irrevocably emotionally and mentally. She saw such great love in Molly for her baby.

“Molly, I need to check on your injury now. Do you have a first aid kit in the house?” Violet asked.

The woman nodded, her face blanketed in trepidation. “In the bathroom.” She pointed down the hall.

“I’ll grab it,” Keefer said.

Once they were alone, Violet stepped closer to Molly, touching her arm lightly. “Can I get a bottle for the baby?”

“I have one already made up. Sitting on the table.” 

“Okay. I see it.” Grabbing the bottle from the coffee table, Violet handed it to Molly. “You can have a seat.”

She swallowed loudly and then crossed the room to a rocker and sat. The wood creaked as she sat. “It’s okay. Little fellow,” Molly crooned, shook the bottle and gave it to the hungry baby whose loud slurps and sucks filled the silence.

Violet smiled, approaching the mother/son scene. Keefer’s boots were heard on the wooden flooring a second before he came back into the room, a white box in his hand. She took it, hoping that the kit contained everything she’d need to patch up Molly. Opening the lid, she strummed through the contents, glad that she found disinfectant and a bandage.

Bending close to Molly, Violet swallowed against the tension in her throat. Luckily, the woman didn’t need stitches, but it was a close call. Violet tore open a bottle of medicine and poured some of the disinfectant on a cloth. She barely touched the wound and Molly jerked. “I’m sorry, honey,” Violet said. “Tell me, where is your husband this evening?”

There was a difference about Molly as she fed her son, a more relaxed, confident woman. “He’s at the bar.” She lifted her son’s tiny hand and kissed his fingers.

“Did he do this?”

Molly lifted her chin, looking at Violet with fear. “What makes you think that? I fell. I’m clumsy and can’t walk on these two feet.”

Knowing she was lying, Violet didn’t pressure Molly. “Do you need a pain reliever?”

“No, I’m fine,” she insisted. “Thank you for helping me. You finished?”

Reluctantly, Violet nodded, closing up the box and picking up her trash. “Just keep it dry and keep the disinfectant on it.” Molly slashed her a half smile.

There was so much Violet wanted to say, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good. It would only pressure the young lady and make her clam up.

“You both should go now. Please.” Molly’s pleading eyes struck Violet in the chest, but she understood.

“Okay, but remember, if you need anything, just let us know. We’re at the Walters Ranch, just over the hill. My sister is Ruby Stone. You probably know the Stone sisters. Jewels, Pearl, and Em?”

The girl gave a reluctant nod. “I’ve met them a time or two, back a long time ago. They probably don’t remember me.”

Feeling the threat of Charles Peterson showing up any time and making life worse for Molly, Violet gave Keefer a nod and they moved toward the door. Violet slipped out, wrapping her arms tight around her shoulders. Once they were in the truck, she finally was able to breathe again. “The husband did that to her face.”

“Figured as much.” Keefer pulled out of the driveway.

“He’ll do it again as sure as I have a nose in the center of my face. Did you see how scared she is?” Violet watched in the side mirror as the dim light of the farmhouse faded behind them.

“If Cal saw her, he’d kill that son-of-a-bitch Peterson. I have a right mind to snap the man’s neck myself.”

Violet rubbed her forehead. “She’s done a good job keeping the abuse under wraps, probably because her husband hasn’t been as bold to leave the bruises and marks where everyone can see. He’s getting braver though, leaving a mark like that on her face.” Her stomach rolled. “I just wanted to drag her out of there, she and Sam both. That’s not a way for anyone to live.”

“Why would she stay? Why not at least call the sheriff? I know him and he’d have that bastard Peterson behind bars.”

“Could be for many reasons. She’s young, with a baby, and she could be afraid of how she’d survive. Or what her husband would do if she leaves. Once a woman leaves, that’s the most dangerous time for her. I hope she’s okay tonight.” Keefer laid his hand on hers. She brought her chin around, thankful for his gentle hand. “I don’t want to sleep alone tonight. Can I stay with you at the cabin?”

One corner of his mouth lifted. “I’d like that.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Keefer, Jobe and Cal made their way across the grassy field, toward the skittish gelding. “It’s okay, boy,” Keefer soothed. The horse had jumped the fence and ran straight into a barbed wire fence. Her leg was tangled and bleeding.

“Damn. Looks worse than I thought it would,” Cal said.

“And as long as she continues squirming it’s only going to get worse,” Jobe said as he moved around Cal, making a wide circle toward the horse.

As Keefer approached, the large gelding, easily the largest he’d seen, pounded at the dirt. He realized this could be very dangerous. “We have two choices, boys. We take our chances and get him out of there before he does any further injury, or we wait for the vet to get here so she can tranquilize him first.”

“We can’t leave him in there. The vet will be another ten or fifteen minutes.”

“Okay, then let’s do this,” Keefer moved closer, holding the leather bag of tools. “What his name?”

“Trapper,” Cal answered. “He hasn’t been here at the ranch long.”

“Most geldings are tamer. What the hell happened to make him this unruly?”

“Came from Peterson,” Cal said.

Keefer lifted his chin. “Yeah?”

“I told him the boy won’t be too easy to train,” Jobe was getting closer. “Peterson must have used cruel tactics to train him.”

“Okay, Trapper, let’s do this nice and easy. Let’s see what kind of trouble you’ve gotten yourself into.” Keefer reached into the bag, keeping his attention on the horse as he felt for the tool he’d need—wire cutters.  As he made it within a few feet of the gelding, Keefer could see it wasn’t as bad as all of the blood made out, but still the bleeding was heavy. Probably because the horse wouldn’t stay steady and put a lot of pressure on the leg wound in the wire. “Jobe, make sure you saddle up next to her, keep him as calm as possible as I try to get this fellow lose without getting stomped.” Keefer sighed. “Don’t get me in the jewels, buddy. Unlike you, I plan to reproduce.”

Jobe was beside the horse now, patting him and the gelding snorted loudly, clawed the ground, but settled.

“He seems to like you, Jobe.”

“Oh just a talent, I guess.”

Keefer smiled. “And so I’ve heard.”

“What can I do?” Cal asked.

“Rest that shoulder, bro. Hold this bag in case I need anything else.” He handed it over. “If you can keep him steady, he’ll be out of this mess in no time at all. Just in time for the vet.”

Steady and slowly, Keefer bent and gently clipped the old rusty wire. Trapper snorted, shifted, but Jobe soothed him, keeping him calm.

Once the last wire was removed, the gelding sensed that he was free and backed up, whinnied. “Cal, hand over the strap and let’s get that on him before he gets spooked again,” Jobe said in a low tone.

Once the horse was secure, all three men, with Jobe holding the straps, walked the horse down to the barn. The gelding was only slightly limping and thankfully the blood had finally stopped. The vet waited for them with her black medical bag.

“I’ll take care of this and catch up to you later,” Jobe said as he led Trapper into the barn.

Keefer grabbed a bottled water from the cooler, tossing one to Cal who caught it with the hand of his good arm.

“Thank you.” Cal uncapped his water and drank half of it in one gulp. He scrubbed the back of his hand across his lips.

Keefer took a seat on a bale of hale and stretched his legs. “We did great out there.”

“You and Jobe did good out there,” Cal said and plopped down on another bale across from Keefer. “Damn injury anyway. You’re real skilled with horses, buddy.”

“I learned an appreciation for them years ago.”

“We’ll miss you around here when you get your place up and running.”

Keefer had a sense of excitement. He woke up that morning with Violet cuddled close and he’d been filled with an unexplainable sensation since he’d left her lying in his bed. He couldn’t even begin to describe how he’d felt looking down, seeing her still sleeping. She’d rolled into his spot, tugged his pillow between her legs, and he’d instantly wanted to crawl back into bed and take the pillow’s spot. Yet, he hadn’t wanted to disturb her.

He wasn’t sure where they headed, but for now, he couldn’t deny he liked the way things were.

“Violet called me last night and told me everything was okay with Molly.”

Keefer knew because he was sitting next to her when she called Cal. Violet thought it was best to not tell him what they’d found, at least not at the time. Keefer had to admit he worried what Cal might do last night if they’d told him in what condition they’d found Molly.

“I wish she’d leave the dickhead. I didn’t want her to marry him in the first place. Hell, he’s too old for her.” Cal dragged off his dirty hat and hooked it on his knee.

“Why did she?”

Cal shrugged. “She got pregnant. Felt she needed to make things right. Now I can barely see her. She’s always busy, but I suspect Charles doesn’t want her anywhere near me.”

Keefer leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. What would he want if he was in Cal’s boots? Hell, he’d want to be told the truth. “You think you can convince her to leave Peterson?”

Cal looked down his bottle, draining the last of the water then smashing the bottle. “Convince her to leave?” He scratched his temple. “You saw something, didn’t you?”

“First, you need to keep in mind if you go barreling over there you won’t make this any easier on Molly.”

“Oh shit!” Cal sighed.

“Violet patched her up—”.

Cal jumped up, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “What the hell?”

“Calm down, man.” Keefer stood, standing a few inches taller than the other man. “Molly said she fell. All I’m saying is that she seemed pretty upset.”

“I knew that son-of-a-bitch was laying his hands on her.” Cal paced the barn floor. “I should break his jaw and see how he likes it.”

“And land yourself in jail, and where does that leave you? And Molly?” Keefer attempted to be the voice of reason, although he understood how Cal felt. Keefer wasn’t sure he could hold back either if something happened to someone he loved.

“I get that I need to calm down. I need to be by myself for a while. Tell Jobe I’ll be back.” Cal stomped off.

Keefer plopped down on the bale, rubbing his jaw, hoping he made the right decision by telling Cal the truth.

****

“I think you should wear a white dress,” Violet said to Ruby who was skimming through a bridal magazine for ideas.

Ruby shrugged. “I think we should elope.”

Sapphire’s jaw dropped. “Bite your tongue. Every girl deserves a wedding.”

“Every girl deserves happiness. I have that with Jobe. I just want to get hitched with the man I love.”

“How odd. You won’t be a Stone any longer.” Sapphire stuck out her bottom lip dramatically.

“Oh hogwash. I’ll always be a Stone. Like Em, she kept her last name and just added Walters.”

“I’m so happy for you.” Violet patted her sister’s hand. “You deserve it, too.”

“Thank you, sis. I want to see you happy also. I’ve seen a change in you the last couple of days. Does this change have anything to do with a certain cowboy?”

Violet tugged a tendril of hair behind her ear. “I’d love to deny you two any information. But I’m sure you both wouldn’t stop badgering me.”

“What are sisters for?” Sapphire laughed.

“Okay. I’m finding myself falling for Keefer,” Violet admitted.

“At least you’re not denying it?” Ruby said.

“Keep in mind I’m not saying that we are in a relationship, or have a future together. Just saying that I have a lot of feelings for him.” Violet played with a string on her shorts.

“Well, I’ve never seen you so, well, happy.” Ruby winked. “Maybe you need to admit that whether you like it or not, Keefer could be the one.”

“Okay you two. I sense a serious talk coming.” Sapphire jumped up and ran across the yard. “I’ll go make us another round of Bahama Mamas. Don’t talk about anything juicy until I get back.”

“She’s tipsy,” Violet laughed.

“She’s a lightweight. She’s only had one.” Ruby shook her head. “Seriously. I hope you don’t jinx this for yourself.”

Violet sighed. “How would I do that?”

“The ol’ Stone curse. We can’t settle into happiness. We have to drive in at redneck speed kicking up dust and leaving our mark.”

“I’m okay, Ruby. We’re using protection. No chance of a surprise pregnancy.”

Ruby’s brows scrunched. “Do you think that’s what I’m worried about? I’m concerned that you’ve fallen for him and will refuse to allow yourself happiness.”

“Why would I do that?” Violet wagged her brows. Concern etched wrinkles at the corners of Ruby’s eyes. Violet’s heart skipped a beat. “You know, don’t you?”

A long second floated by. “I’ve known since it happened, sweetheart.”

Violet scooted to the edge of the wicker seat, her tongue feeling swollen. “Crystal can’t keep quiet about anything.”

“I was hurt that you didn’t tell me, or tell Sapphire.”

“Does Sapphire know?” Violet darted a glance to the back door.

Ruby gave her head a shake. “No, I didn’t tell her.”

“It’s not that I chose to tell Crystal and not you. That night…well…she saw me and I had no choice.”

“She wanted you to go to the police.”

Violet blew out a long breath between her tight lips. “And say what?”

“That he attacked—”.

“It wasn’t like that.” Violet jumped up from the chair. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’ve been through this over and over with Crystal.  It’s been years and I’m over it.” Her cell beeped in her pocket, thankful for the break. She reached for it and read the screen. Cal had sent her a message.

“Come out to the front of the house. I have something to show you.”

“I have to go.” Violet shoved her phone back into her pocket.

“Where are you going? Are you angry?” Ruby asked.

Violet sighed. “No. I promise we’ll talk later. I’ll be back. I just have to take care of something.”

Going around the house and into the front yard, Cal’s truck was parked in the driveway. And he wasn’t alone. Someone sat in the passenger’s seat but the shadows on the window kept Violet from seeing who was with him. When she got closer, Cal slid from inside the truck and rounded the front, meeting her. He wore an expression of dire strain.

“What is it, Cal?”

“It’s Molly…”

“Is she okay?” Violet’s heart jumped.

“She’s with me.” Cal nodded toward the truck.

“With you? What happened?” Violet started for the passenger side, then stopped. “Cal? Is Charles…?”

“No, he’s okay. He wasn’t there.”

“Thank goodness.” The passenger window was down and Molly had her head lowered, holding Sam in her arms. “Hi, Molly. Are you okay?” She finally lifted her head. Tear stains marred her pale cheeks. “What is it, honey?”

“My brother…Cal made me leave Charles,” she said with a shaking voice.

Violet met Cal’s gaze over the shiny hood. She narrowed her eyes and he shrugged. She’d handle that later. Violet opened the truck door. “Come on out, sweetie. It’s too hot to be sitting in there with the baby.”

Molly did as requested. Her shoulders were slumped and every now and then she’d hiccup. The bruising on her eyed looked yellow with purple edges. Thankfully, it was healing. “This ain’t good, Violet. Not good at all. He marched in and told me to pack a bag. Why did you tell him? Now it’ll be worse.”

“Okay. We’ll take care of the details, but first let’s get you and the baby on the porch out of the sun.” As they passed Cal, Violet looked at him and mouthed, “Who?”

“Not sayin’,” he whispered.

“You don’t have to.” This was exactly what Violet had been afraid of. She understood Cal’s concern, and Keefer’s too, but no one should force Molly into doing something she didn’t want to do. And the woman was right, things could get ugly before they got better.

Once they were on the porch and Molly was seated with an iced tea in hand, Violet took a seat next to her on the swing while Cal stayed his distance. “You know he did this because he loves you.”

Molly didn’t take her eyes off Sam who was sleeping. “I know he loves me, but he can’t tell me how to live my life. He’s always trying to.”

“That’s right, no one can tell you how to live, honey, but he’s worried. You’re in a dangerous situation that probably has no other solution but to leave your husband.”

Molly touched Sam’s cheek. “I’ve always wanted a family—a large one. I had dreams that once the baby was born, Charles would straighten up. He’d see that he’s a father now and can’t be acting like a bully to me, or anyone. His drinking’s only gotten worse and I don’t see things changing.”

“I’m sorry, honey. I know this can’t be easy.” Violet felt a lot of compassion for the other woman. “I see how much you love Sam.”