Good for them, because it kept people out of their personal business, she thought. “There are some advantages to being in Witness Protection.”
Cherie hadn’t realized she’d spoken her thought aloud. Bettina didn’t know that Cherie had never been open with strangers. Other than the people in her neighborhood, everyone else knew very little about her, and that included classmates, coworkers, and her book club friends.
Bettina blinked slowly, and then leaned closer. “Are you saying that is your situation?” she whispered.
Cherie wanted to laugh in the woman’s face, but knew that would be rude. “No comment,” she said instead, wishing Bettina would take the hint and keep her distance. She didn’t mind Bettina being friendly or even neighborly, but resented her unwelcomed nosiness.
An expression of concern flitted over the older woman’s features. “I’ll understand if you’re trying to get away from an abusive husband or boyfriend. My younger sister had the same experience. She finally was able to escape her abusive husband when she upped and moved to some little town in Idaho that barely made the map. So I’ll give you your space, but if you ever need help or someone to talk to, just remember I’m right across the street.”
Cherie forced a smile. “Thank you. I still have to do some unpacking—”
“Go on in, honey,” Bettina interrupted. “I need to get back to the house and finish wrapping gifts for my grandkids. Andy and I decided to drive down to Orlando to spend Christmas with my daughter and her husband. We plan to stay there until after the New Year. So if I don’t see you before we leave, you have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.”
“You, too.” Turning on her heel, Cherie went into the house and closed the door.
She sighed. Knowing she wouldn’t have to deal with Bettina for more than a week felt as if she had been given a reprieve, and she knew there was no way she could stay home during the day and have unannounced visits from the obviously bored woman who reminded her of the women in her old neighborhood. Those who were either retired or unemployed had developed a culture of minding everyone else’s business, and were as adept as tabloid reporters in searching out gossip to repeat over and over.
Cherie’s grandmother had said there were a day crew and a night crew of idle women monitoring the comings and goings of everyone in the neighborhood. They knew who was cheating, stealing, hooked on drugs, and/or abusing their elderly parents, wives, or girlfriends. As hard as they’d tried, none of them was able to identify the men that had fathered Edwina Thompson’s children.
She thought about Edwina’s promise to tell her about her father.One of these days, I’ll tell you, once you decide to start a family. But not until then.And several times since Edwina’s vow, Cherie wanted to tell her mother she was the grandmother of a boy that she would never hold or claim as her own. That her only daughter had sold her son for a better way of life, and that now, in hindsight, she realized it was wrong to trade a human life for material goods. And she couldn’t accuse her mother of keeping secrets, because she was also guilty of the same. No one knew she’d had a child, and if they did, they never would have been able to identify the father. Other than at public events, she and Weylin were never seen together.
Stop thinking about the past and concentrate on your future, the silent voice taunted. Cherie knew she couldn’t change her past, so now it was incumbent on her to map out what she wanted for the rest of her life. She would turn thirty-five in March, and by that time, she would have set up her house for total living and relaxation. And by that time, she hoped to have selected the college to enroll in online courses to obtain a graduate degree and become a classroom teacher. She decided to unpack a few more boxes before driving to the mainland to open a bank account at the local branch and do some last-minute Christmas shopping.
* * *
Reese Matthews parked his cruiser in an alley, got out, and walked along the mainland Village’s downtown business district. He hadn’t taken more than a few steps when he saw her heading for the bank. It was the woman he’d seen talking with Bettina Wilson and then again later that afternoon in the Seaside Café. He knew it had been rude to stare, but something wouldn’t permit him to look away the instant he met her jewellike eyes.
Coates Island was small enough for most folks to become familiar with one another. Since returning to Coates Island, he’d discovered a couple who had retired on the island and was now selling their home and moving to Hawaii. Reese had to admit that he was mildly shocked to discover a young woman had purchased their house when, over the years, there had been steady flow of twenty- and thirty-somethings leaving the island for better employment opportunities.
He had returned to life as a civilian nearly a year ago, and it had taken him four months to feel completely comfortable with his new lifestyle. He still wore a uniform and carried a firearm, which had made it easy for him to transition from Army Ranger to a local deputy sheriff, but that’s where the similarities ended.
It had taken more than twenty years for Reese to come to appreciate his hometown. Growing up, he couldn’t wait to leave, to discover a world outside of Coates Island, North Carolina, located several miles south of Wrightsville Beach, and when the army recruiter visited the mainland’s high school during career week, he couldn’t resist the recruiter’s pitch to be all that he could be as a soldier in the United States Army.
His grandparents did not try to dissuade him from enlisting, but had offered him an alternative: enroll in the ROTC. Their dream was for him to graduate from college, because it was something Reese’s mother hadn’t been able to do.
He’d graduated with honors and entered the army as a second lieutenant and, twenty years later, was honorably discharged with the rank of captain. He had served and protected his country honorably for two decades, and now it was time for him to protect his hometown. He marveled that very little on Coates Island had changed since he’d left at eighteen, returning only when he had extended leaves.
The current census recorded the mainland’s residents at thirty-eight hundred inhabitants and the beach community another four hundred permanent inhabitants with a combined total population of forty-two hundred. It was a small town with small-town sensibilities. Shopkeepers still decorated their windows to reflect the various holidays; there were no fast food restaurants to compete with the Seaside Café; vacationers were not permitted to drive on local roads during the summer season; and most businesses were owned and operated by generations of family members.
He’d returned home whenever he was granted leave; the last two times were to bury his grandfather and, seven months later, his grandmother. Only a few relatives were his last link to his mother, and once Reese informed his cousin that he was submitting his discharge papers, the older man urged him to return home and join the sheriff’s department, where he was now chief. The offer was a no-brainer. He would move into the house where he’d been raised by his grandparents and embark on a second career in law enforcement.
“Good afternoon, Deputy Matthews.”
Reese smiled and touched the brim of his Stetson in acknowledgment. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Kenny.”
He’d attended high school with the older woman’s daughter, and in the past, she would’ve called him Reese, but now it appeared that those who’d known or grown up with him preferred to address him as Deputy Matthews. Mrs. Kenny was married to the pharmacist at the local drugstore, and his pharmacist nephew had recently left a national drugstore chain to assist him.
“Are you going to be around for the lighting of the Christmas tree?” she asked.
“Most definitely.”
The highlight of Reese’s childhood had been accompanying his grandparents on Christmas Eve to the town square to wait for the mayor to throw the switch that would illuminate thousands of lights on a twelve-foot live Norwegian spruce. It was a time when the entire island turned out for caroling, live music, dancing, and gifts, donated by the merchants, for all children under the age of twelve. Coates Island during the Christmas season resembled a Hallmark movie without the snow.
The first time he’d been granted leave for Christmas and he’d returned with his new bride, she’d complained constantly that she’d prefer to spend the holiday in the Caribbean rather than in a dead-ass town with a bunch of boring-ass folks. Monica had announced this in the presence of his grandparents, which had shocked Reese; he’d believed she would’ve been more respectful of them. His grandfather hadn’t said anything; it was his grandmother who later said she didn’t like the woman and predicted that if he didn’t divorce her, she would make his life a living hell. However, he hadn’t heeded the warning, and years later, Monica did make his life hell when she’d attempted to put his rank as an officer in jeopardy.
Reese thought of his homecoming as bittersweet. His grandparents, who’d raised him from an infant after the death of his mother, were gone, while the house that had been willed to him was filled with wonderful memories that were imprinted on his brain like a permanent tattoo.
His grandmother had insisted he call her Gram instead of Mama, because she revered the title, was kind, even-tempered, and protective of him, while his grandfather, whom he’d called Papa, was a hard taskmaster who demanded nothing short of perfection when teaching Reese everything he knew about carpentry and how to frame a house. He knew his grandfather truly loved him despite his reluctance to exhibit affection.
