For the Love of Suzanne Read online

  “Where? It looks awful,” he said sympathetically. “I’ll bet it hurts.”

  She choked back tears at the memory of the last fight she and Beau had. Maybe she should have let him sleep it off before she’d thrown him out, but he was as angry as the devil himself. “It’s okay,” she said quietly.

  He looked at her with disbelief in his dark eyes. “He hit you, didn’t he?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Who?” she asked innocently.

  “Beau. He hit you.”

  “It doesn’t matter now, John,” she said in a soft voice, avoiding his brown eyes. “It’s okay.”

  “My son abused you a lot, didn’t he?” he asked knowingly.

  She had always liked her father-in-law. He was such a compassionate man, a trait that hadn’t been passed onto his son. He was handsome with a full head of dark hair that he kept short and combed to the side, clean-shaven, tall but shorter than Beau, and physically fit. Not that she hung out with a lot of ministers or priests, but he was the best clergyman she had ever known. He genuinely cared about people and was always willing to help anybody in any way he could.

  “I think I made him mad a lot,” she said with a heavy sigh. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t love him. I miss him.”

  “I know you do. I’m sure this hasn’t been easy on you,” he said understandingly.

  “It hasn’t, but I’m not the only one affected by this,” she said shakily, letting a lone tear spill down her cheek. “He was your only child. I know you’re suffering, too.”

  He nodded slowly. “Are you okay?”

  She sniffed reverently. “Yeah. Are you?”

  “I will be. I wish I could say the same about Darla, though,” he said despondently.

  She blew her nose politely into a tissue and sniffed. “How is she?”

  He shook his head forlornly. “She hasn’t been sober since it happened.”

  Suzanne knew Darla had a mean mouth when she was drunk and was sure she blamed her for everything. Darla had never liked her. They’d never confronted each other, but had come dangerously close on more than one occasion. The only thing that had stopped her was the fact that Darla was Beau’s mother and deserved respect just for that.

  “I’m sorry about this, John,” she suddenly burst into sobs. “I didn’t mean for him to die.”

  He knelt in front of her and took her hands. “It was just an accident, Suzanne. You had no control over it. It was God’s will,” he consoled, feeling better himself at just saying the last sentence. It really had been God’s will to take his son and nothing in the world would have changed it. Not one person or thing. It was meant to be.

  “But we had a fight and I threw him out,” she wept. “I didn’t want him to die.”

  He gently squeezed her hands. “I think you put up with a lot of crap from him, Suzanne,” he said in that knowing tone again. “I love my son and I tried to bring him up right, but he missed something or maybe I missed something. I don’t know. But I do know he was mean to you and I know he was no fun to live with. You did okay,” he soothed and put his arms around her. “You did all you could do.”

  “He was so upset with me,” she murmured into his shoulder. “I told him I was pregnant and he went crazy.”

  He took her by the shoulders and gently thrust her away and looked into her teary blue eyes. “You’re pregnant?” he asked with surprise.

  She nodded, wiping her nose again, choking on quiet sobs.

  “He didn’t like that, huh?” he asked in dismay.

  She shook her head. “He hit me and I pulled a knife on him and told him to leave. I did it for my baby,” she said as if she were in trouble. “I was scared.”

  “He never should have laid a hand on you, especially in your condition,” he said seriously. “You were right to throw him out.”

  “He didn’t think he was the father, but I’ve never had an affair with anyone,” she rushed on. “He was the only man I’d ever been with.”

  “He was running around on you, though, wasn’t he?”

  She nodded with a sniff. “Almost from the time we moved here. He had a lot of other women. He was just so damn good looking,” she said with a short laugh of wonder. “I’m sure the women just fell at his feet.”

  John smiled before becoming serious again. “Do you need some help?”

  She slowly shook her head. “No, thank you. I’m going to be fine.”

  He sighed heavily and entwined his fingers as if to pray. “I probably don’t have a right to ask this, considering how my son treated you, but after the baby is born, are you going to let us see it?”

  “Of course, I will,” she said as if doing anything else was ludicrous. “This kid would really miss something if it didn’t know you.”

  He blushed a little. “Well, I don’t know about that,” he said modestly.

  She smiled. “I do. You’re a nice person.”

  “You’re going to make a good mother, Suzanne,” he told her sincerely and hugged her again.

  “I hope so. You’re going to make a fine grandfather, too.”

  “My son definitely missed out,” he said softly and drew away from her and stood up. “Are you hungry?” he asked with sudden cheeriness.

  She nodded.

  “Let’s go get something to eat. We’ll bring something back for Darla.”

  “I would like that,” she said with a slight smile, brushing her tears away. “Thank you.”

  Chapter 4

  Jeannette Lightfield arrived with her husband and his four daughters a few hours later. Jeannette had never married Suzanne’s father, but had married Jim Lightfield shortly before Suzanne had graduated from high school. He was a lawyer who was quite wealthy and had moved Jeannette from a small town in New York to a swanky apartment in Manhattan after Suzanne had run off with Beau. Her mother had promptly retired and dedicated her life to raising Jim’s four girls who were out of control, rude and mouthy.

  Jim was a few years younger than her mother with short strawberry blond hair and clear blue eyes. He was rather short as far as men go, but he had a brilliant mind and was well respected amongst his peers.

  Suzanne really wished her mother hadn’t brought the girls with her. She’d never developed any sort of relationship with them being that they were so much younger. They ranged in age from seven to fourteen and were already squabbling less than a minute after being in the house.

  Jeannette blew past them and went to Suzanne and hugged her fiercely. “Oh honey, I am so sorry,” she murmured in her ear and kissed her hair as she rocked her.

  That drove Suzanne to tears again. She openly wept while she clung to her mother helplessly.

  “Sh-h,” she whispered to her, comforting her by running her hand up and down her back affectionately. “It’s all right, honey.”

  Jim herded his daughters into the kitchen and told them to be quiet, wanting to leave Jeannette alone with her daughter.

  Jeannette led Suzanne to the ratty couch and sat down with her and held her. “You can come back to New York with us,” she said decisively.

  “Not right away. I want to stay here if I can.”

  She gently shoved her head off her shoulder and searched her face. “And do what? Work at that dingy diner for the rest of your life?” she said with disgust.

  Suzanne looked at her mother, wondering when she’d become so pretentious. She’d always been very beautiful with straight blond hair that hung to her shoulders, blue eyes, tall, slim and trim, but somewhere along the line she’d lost her humility. She hadn’t always had money and had worked at a café herself while she’d put herself through school to become an accountant.

  “I’ll do something else eventually,” she said with a sniff and sat up straight. “I have a baby to consider, Mom. I have to support it somehow.”

  “A baby?” she echoed with a frown.

  She saw the look of disapproval cross her mother’s heavily made-up face. “I’m pregnant,” she affirmed.

  “
Oh, my God. Did Beau have life insurance?”

  “No.”

  “Accident insurance?”

  “No.”

  “So, he left you with nothing,” she said sharply.

  “He wasn’t even twenty-five years old, Mom,” she said defensively. “He wasn’t planning on dying so young.”

  “Well, that’s been made perfectly clear,” she said indignantly. “What do you have for bills?”

  “What?” she asked dumbly.

  “We have to get your affairs in order,” she said in a businesslike tone.

  “Not now, Mom,” she whined, leaning wearily against the arm of the couch. “I’m too tired to think about it.”

  “We’re going to do it before I leave,” she said sternly and patted her bare leg. “Now what happened to your face?” she asked carelessly.

  She closed her eyes and lied. “I fell.”

  “You need to be more careful, especially in your condition, honey.”

  She nodded. “I know.”

  ~~~

  Two days later, the family and a few friends gathered for graveside rites for Beau Dillon. The minister gave a few words of comfort to the bereaved family and left before they did, which John thought was really tacky but said nothing.

  Darla was more intoxicated than she had been in the past few days and leaned on John as she sobbed. She was bordering on hysteria and, as Suzanne laid a red rose on the casket, she leaped at her and knocked her into it. “I told him not to marry you!” she screamed. “I told him you would do nothing but bring him heartbreak and misery. I was right. He hated you and now you’ve killed him,” she wailed.

  “Darla,” John reprimanded sharply, grabbing her by her upper arm and pulled her away from Suzanne.

  She wrenched away from him. “It’s true and you know it,” she wept and sunk to her knees at the casket and laid her head on it. “And now my baby is gone.”

  Suzanne knelt beside her and put her arm around her, crying again. The tears never seemed to stop. “I’m sorry, Darla,” she said shakily. “I never wanted him to get hurt let alone get killed.”

  Jeannette helped Suzanne to her feet, putting her arm around her when she got up and shot a cold glare at Beau’s mother. “It wasn’t your fault, honey,” she told her daughter sympathetically. “There was nothing you could have done. It was just a horrible accident.”

  John helped Darla off her knees only to have her collapse in a heap at his feet. She didn’t move, and he knew she was drunk and passed out. Jim helped him get her back to the car without saying much other than he was sorry for their loss.

  Suzanne walked slowly with her mother back to a different car, getting comfort from her arm around her shoulders. “I didn’t mean for him to die, Mom,” she wept.

  She stopped and pulled her into a tight hug. “It was just an accident. It wasn’t your fault,” she consoled.

  She felt so guilty. She didn’t know how she was ever going to get over it.

  Chapter 5

  In the weeks that followed, Suzanne became very depressed and lonelier than ever. She donated Beau’s clothes to charity, saved the few pictures of them during happier times, and threw away his soap, razor, and toothbrush. She sent his high school trophies, diploma, and other smaller things to John and Darla, thinking they might want to have them as keepsakes. She’d considered saving them for the baby so it would have an idea of who its father was, but realized that those good times had been gone long before she got pregnant and he was killed. It was better to let his parents have them. They needed a piece of him, too.

  Guilt still plagued her about the night before Beau’s death. Her intention had been to file for divorce the day after she’d kicked him out of the house with the hopes that she could find a cheap attorney who wouldn’t make her pay up front or would even do it for free. His violence, drinking and drug abuse was too much and she didn’t want her child around that element. It was scary to raise a child alone, but it would be better than having that type of father.

  She continued to work even though her morning sickness was almost overwhelming at times. It seemed she spent more time in the bathroom than she did taking care of her stations. Food was revolting to her and certain smells made her every bit as nauseous as food did. Her coworkers were more than willing to pick up the slack…and the tips.

  She finally got a weekend off and decided to take a drive in the desert. She thought the sunshine and fresh air would raise her spirits and help her forget about Beau for awhile.

  She dressed in a pair of short blue jean cutoffs, a plain pink T-shirt, white ankle socks and a pair of white on purple tennis shoes. She got a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and got into her dilapidated car and headed out to the highway with the windows down, letting the wind whip her hair around as the music blasted from the stereo.

  It felt good to feel semi-human again as she found some happiness with the rock music, singing along, dancing in her seat and even laughing at the jokes the deejay was throwing out.

  She was letting loose with a “woo!” while she picked up speed, truly enjoying herself for the first time in months, when she came around a curve and saw a man on a horse in the middle of the road. She slammed on the brakes and swerved to miss him only to have the car skid off the road and roll onto its top.

  ~~~

  The man on the horse gaped in horror at the car. Never before having seen one, he jumped off the horse and slowly approached it. It made an odd sound and the front wheels were still turning. He smelled an acrid, peculiar smoke, but didn’t see any fire and was really afraid to go near it until he saw a woman inside, upside down in whatever it was. He’d never seen anything like it and didn’t know where it had come from.

  He was out looking for some renegade Indians who were marauding and killing white people, and suddenly this thing seemed to have come across the sand from nowhere. At first, he thought it was a mirage or a vision but as it got closer, he knew it was real. He hadn’t run in fear as many others would do. Instead, he’d stayed to see what it was and now he knew…well, sort of.

  The stench was getting to him and making him a little dizzy, but he knew he had to get the woman out of the strange…what was it? He reached through the window and tried to pull her out, but found her restrained. He could tell what was holding her and took his hunting knife out of the sheath at his waist and began to cut it. It was tough and difficult, but he was managing until he heard a small boom and saw fire between the spinning wheels. After finishing the job quickly, he hoisted her into his arms and began to run in the opposite direction, whistling for the horse to follow.

  The explosion sent him sprawling. Instinctively, he covered the woman’s body with his own as debris came raining down. His horse whinnied with fear and began to run. He jumped to his feet. “Hey!” he called to it and whistled loudly, but it kept running. “Damn,” he muttered, knowing it would come back.

  He picked up the woman again and moved her behind a boulder, not sure if that thing was going to blow up again. It was fully engulfed in flames and the heat it was putting out was incredible. He wasn’t one to walk away from danger or uncertainty, but he wasn’t stupid, either. He didn’t know what had happened, how it had happened, or what it was that was burning, but he knew fire was hot and could cause great pain or death.

  He gently laid her down on the sand and looked at her. He had never seen such a pretty woman before. She was small and dressed in a way that he’d never seen. It was scandalous.

  He’d never seen a lady’s bare legs like this or bare arms or a shirt of that color or style. He’d never seen shoes like that, either. Who wore purple shoes with such a bizarre mark on the sides? They didn’t look as comfortable as his moccasins, but they did look more comfortable than what the women normally wore. Maybe she’s a person of the stars, he thought. He’d never seen one, but had heard they look different than people who walked the earth. She looked normal enough, except for the way she was dressed. Her clothes looked almost like undergarme
nts.

  She was yellow-haired. She had lots of it and it was curly at the ends and was flying in the wind. He looked at her slim body and her full breasts and thought she would make a fine gift for the chief. Tall Deer always liked white women and kept them as slaves. This one looked as if she could fit the part quite well, if she didn’t die and he could get her to the village.

  He stood up and whistled for the horse again. After several minutes, it appeared in the distance and began to make its way to him.

  Chapter 6

  Suzanne stirred slightly at the rhythmic but slow walk of the horse. She had to be dreaming. She always loved horses, but hadn’t been on one in years. The movement was unmistakable and when she opened her eyes a bit, she saw the big black head and pointy ears. She was definitely on a horse. She was still groggy and the heat, combined with the motion, was making her queasy. She didn’t sit up, but rested wearily against the hard back of what she thought was a chair. She almost laughed when she thought of a chair on a horse, but she had a horrendous headache.

  Pounding. She was hearing light, steady pounding. Under her ear. She didn’t move, but looked down and saw a man’s hand holding the reins. Brown hands. She was riding, but with who? She struggled to sit up straight, but his hand came to rest on her abdomen to keep her seated and forcing her head back to his chest.

  “Be still,” he commanded with quiet sternness.

  She wanted to see him and diligently removed his hand, turning around to look at him. What she saw frightened her. The man was an Indian, dressed in buckskin pants and beaded moccasins. His bare, bronze chest accentuated the necklace made of a leather strip and several small turquoise beads. His hair hung past his shoulders and his facial features were strong and serious.

  He stopped the horse and gazed at her, too. She was astoundingly beautiful. Her yellow hair blew freely in the hot breeze and her face was smudged with dirt and smoke, but her eyes were a deep, magnificent blue that matched the clearest sky.