Emilie Richards - No River Too Wide

The air under a canopy of hardwoods was turning chilly, and Janine shivered inside somebody else’s jacket. Her body temperature dropped too easily now, probably as a result of the weight she had lost. Losing so much had been easy. She had always been thin, but in the past year her appetite had simply vanished. Her secret would never be marketed in diet books. During meals with Rex she had silently replayed her decision to find a way out of the prison he’d created. Fear of what lay ahead, as well as the consequences if he found her, had made it nearly impossible to eat.

Rex had noticed, of course, but he had seemed pleased. The shadow she had become was the wife he had wanted all along.

As she rounded a curve she wasn’t surprised to find Bea lounging against a tree casually observing the driveway. Tall, wiry, threatening enough that her male colleagues called her Grandma Grouchy, Bea was older than Janine, but even in her sixties she exuded a raw power that Janine found a bit intimidating. Bea was a grandmother, but she was more likely to teach hunting and fishing to her grandsons than to play dress-up with her granddaughters.

“You okay?” she asked when Janine got closer. “This the right house?”

Janine eased Buddy’s backpack into a more comfortable position. “I haven’t seen her yet, but Harmony’s here.”

“You okay, Jan?”

Janine gave a short nod. “The phone didn’t work inside, and I didn’t want you to worry.”

“You want me to wait?”

“You go on and settle in for the night. If this doesn’t go well...” Janine swallowed, because the rest of the sentence stuck in her throat.

“It’s going to be fine.”

“I’ll find a way into town, and I’ll call the hotline from there.”

“Just call me direct. I’m going to stay nearby and wait while you have that reunion. Things don’t go well tonight, you just give me a buzz, and I’ll come back. I don’t hear, though, we’ll need to be on our way in the morning early. So you have to let me know where to pick you up then.”

Janine realized she was crying. Bea didn’t seem surprised, and her voice softened a little.

“It’s always like this, honey. I’ve seen it too many times before. You been through too much. You been scared practically every minute for years now. You’ll still be scared some, but at least that part will feel familiar. And it will ease.”

Janine wiped her cheeks with her palms.

“We did a good job for you,” Bea said, retrieving a tissue from a pocket and handing it over. “It’s not likely he’s gonna find you. And the house burning down, that was a stroke of good fortune.”

“No, I shouldn’t have burned those photos.”

“Might have been divine intervention. You just being able to squeeze through the first flames without damage to anything but that old coat of yours. That tank going up like some kind of atom bomb.” Bea smiled as Janine finished wiping her eyes. “And now nobody knows if you burned up or ran away or anything else. Including old Rex.”

“They’re looking through those ashes for no good reason. I know he wasn’t in the house.”

“Think of it as good practice for the fire department, forensical training.”

“But where is Rex? Why hasn’t he come forward?”

“This point in your life? You need to stop thinking about Rex, and start thinking about yourself and that girl of yours.”

Janine couldn’t imagine a life in which Rex was not the central figure. “I’ll always be looking behind me.”

“We’ll be keeping an eye out on your behalf, and we’ll get in touch right away if we hear anything you need to know. I’m as sure as I can be that the trail we left won’t lead him in your direction.”

Janine didn’t know what to do next, but as if she sensed that, Bea stepped forward and put her arms around her for a brief hug. “Now you get on back there and have that reunion. Call me if you need me tonight, but be ready to go at first light.”

A whole night with Harmony. If Harmony would have her.

Janine shivered, and not from the cold this time.

Bea started back toward the road, and Janine knew she had to return to the house. She was sorry she had left, because walking up the driveway the first time had been hard enough.

“Hello? Are you still here?”

Janine whirled at the sound of her daughter’s voice somewhere behind her. She started toward the sound, picking up speed as Harmony called again. “Hello!”

“I’m right here,” Janine managed. “I’m coming.”

She rounded the corner and saw her daughter’s familiar figure half loping toward her, the tall, slender body, the long blond hair flying out behind her. She forgot she had ever been frightened that Harmony would reject her. She forgot she’d had serious qualms about coming to Asheville, because now Rex might find their daughter. She could only think that this was her beloved child, whom she had feared she would never see again. And somehow they had been given this moment.

“Mom!” Harmony paused a moment as if making sure she was right. Then her face lit up. “Mom! It really is you!”

They were in each other’s arms in a moment. Janine was laughing, but she felt tears running down her cheeks, too. “Harmony. I thought...I thought—”

“I didn’t think I would ever see you again.” Harmony held her away but gripped Janine by the shoulders. “I thought you were dead!”

Janine had hoped Harmony wouldn’t learn about the fire, but the fear that she might hear of it had brought her to Asheville. In the end she had realized she had to prove, in person, she was still alive.

“I’m okay. I—” There was so much. Where did she start? Janine realized she was floundering.

“But the house burned to the ground,” Harmony said. “I just found the story on the internet. You weren’t there when it exploded?”

“I was... I mean I wasn’t. I was there when the fire started, but I got out.”

“Was Dad there?”

Janine couldn’t tell from Harmony’s tone what she hoped the answer might be. “No, he was... I don’t know where your father was. Is. I don’t know a thing except that I used... Well, he didn’t come home that night. I—I’d already made plans to leave him, but not quite this soon. Things weren’t quite in—” She stopped.

“You’d made plans?”

“Is there somewhere we can talk? I can’t stay more than the night, but there’s so much—” Janine couldn’t seem to finish a sentence. She was drinking in her daughter’s lovely face.

“What do you mean, you’re not staying?” Harmony tightened her grip on her mother. “Of course you’re staying. Please don’t tell me you’re going back to Kansas.”

“No. No! It’s just—” Janine shivered.

“I’m sorry. You’re cold. We can go up to the house.” She shook her head. “No, we’ll go to my apartment because it’ll be quieter, but I have to get Lottie first.”

“Lottie? Is she...?” Janine’s voice trailed off. The question she’d been about to ask seemed inconceivable, but she knew so little about Harmony’s life. She knew there must be a baby, but not whether the child was a boy or a girl.

“Lottie’s my daughter,” Harmony said, rescuing her. “Charlotte Louise, but she’s Lottie Lou or mostly just Lottie.”

“Who’s taking care of her?”

“Rilla has her. Rilla’s my employer. I live and work here as her assistant.”

“It’s so beautiful. The land. The house.”

“You look tired, Mom. Let me take that.” Harmony hooked a hand under the strap of the backpack and tested the weight. “It’s heavy.”

“Because I have Buddy’s scrapbook inside, but it’s, it’s...” She didn’t want to explain all the details of how she’d gotten away.