Purple and yellow light flashed through the sky, arcing from the clouds to the ground. Maisey stood by the porch rail, leaning against a post as she watched. The sheets of rain that continued to fall were like blankets: thick and heavy, blocking visibility and almost as heavy as snow but this was too wet. She wanted to stand in it, to let the rain wash over her like the shower had but instead she stood safely under cover. She knew standing in the storm would not be safe. Thunder rumbled deep and she began counting: 1 mississippi, 2 mississi...another crack of light slammed down. The storm was close.
It was nearing seven and neither Ned nor Brett had returned. Maisey had puttered around after her shower: organized her truck and finding her laptop, cleaning her cooler, had another nap and made dinner. She knew from her childhood that sometimes the work kept people later than expected, but she couldn't help but wonder if the storm had forced them to hole up somewhere. Anna had called to check on her, she smiled remembering how the other woman had called her out when she'd downplayed her activities and then chastised her for overdoing it on her first day.
Wind came up with the storm and Maisey went back in the house. She made herself comfortable on the couch with her laptop and tried to focus on her writing.
"That storm came up out of nowhere, Ned," voice startled Maisey awake, groggily she looked up and into the lights that flicked on saw a bare chested Brett walking through the house in nothing more than his boxers, unaware of his audience, "If it wasn't for that stupid heifer I might have come in when it first came up but of course she had to have that calf in the middle of the damn storm. It's a good thing you came up with the truck or I'd have been walking that calf back to the barns, stubborn old girl."
"Looks like your friend made dinner," Ned's voice floated back, "she's going to spoil us if she's around long."
"I will check on her after my shower," Brett turned and stopped dead. "Scratch that," he chuckled, "looks like she's doing just fine, though I might have woken her."
"Evening Brett," Maisey stood and collected her laptop, and trying not to stare at his muscular body, "glad to hear you guys made it back okay, I must have fallen asleep, I'll let you guys get settled in while I get myself organized in the bedroom." She pretended that it wasn't strange for a cowboy in boxers to traipse through the house in front of her.
"Evening," Brett hustled toward the bathroom, "Sorry, I assumed you'd be resting." Maisey waved her hand at him as she turned away and swallowed her laughter at his embarrassment.
"Looks like stew and biscuits," Ned called as if he hadn't heard a word Brett said, "There might not be any left when you're done."
"Would serve me right," Brett muttered and closed the bathroom door.
Maisey sat on the bed in the room that she'd been given to stay in and closed her eyes as the laughter shook her. She stored her laptop on the table beside the bed and leaned back, suddenly aware that she had overdone herself. She was resting, looking out the window from the bed when Brett came to her door.
"I'm sorry," he told her, "it didn't even occur to me that you would have been in the living room."
"It's okay," she told him, "I've been mostly asleep in your home for the last month and a half, I wouldn't have expected me to be up and functional either. I probably shouldn't have done as much as I did, but I'm not one for sitting idle much." She motioned to the door, "sit if you want, but it's hurting my neck looking at you at that angle."
Brett slid into the chair, "Do you play cards?"
"Crib," she told him, "Crazy 8s too but it's been a long time, there was never anyone to play against before."
"I could play a game or two of crib," he told her, "but only if you're up for it."
"I'd love to," she told him, "mindless interaction with another human being is probably a good thing."
"Mindless?" he asked, "Just how good of a crib player are you?" Maisey laughed.
After the third hand was dealt, Maisey asked the question she was dreading, "How much do you know?"
"Are you sure you're up for this conversation?" he asked.
"Better for me to know than for us both to tip toe around it." She admitted and put two cards down for the crib.
"Andy had to call the police," he admitted, "There were too many unanswered questions with you blacking out so much." She nodded for him to continue, "They told us that you were severally abused by your ex-husband and his associates, and about the restraining order. We knew about the baby from when you arrived. I'm sorry you had to go through all of that."
"It was worse than what they told you." Her eyes were far away as she pegged 2 for getting 15 when she played a six. "My ex-husband would have killed me if he could. He wasn't like that in the beginning: he was wonderful and kind, thoughtful and made me think I was special. It wasn't until year 2 that the abuse started. I excused it at first, telling myself he didn't mean it, and then he started locking me in and bringing the other men home." She shuddered, "I don't even know who the baby's father would have been." Brett was disgusted by the other man's actions, "He drank a lot and every time I tried to leave it got worse."
Brett studied his hand not sure what to say. "Somehow you must know not all men are like that or you wouldn't be here right now." he said softly, reaching out to play a card, "26."
"Go," she said and sighed, "I am terrified," she admitted, "it's hard to trust my instincts and believe that in the past month I've been actually safe. I don't know what will trigger a memory, a black out, panic, or flight mode," she swallowed back tears, "but something inside tells me I was safer here than in police custody. But I can't stay."
Brett put down his hands and stopped pretending to play, "Why not? You are safe here: Andy and Anna will keep tending you, Ned doesn't mind and I like not having to eat Ned's creations. Do you even have anywhere else you can go?"
"I think I need to sleep now," Maisey placed her cards back on the deck, and laid back.
"I didn't mean to press you," Brett stood up, collecting the board, "I just don't think you should rush leaving."
When Brett closed the door Maisey let the tears flow. Thick and hot until she was sobbing so hard she was gasping for air. She didn't know he had returned until his arms drew her to him and then she sobbed harder for the gentle kindness. His fingers stroked her hair and for the first time in as far as she could remember Maisey felt comforted. After long minutes the tears dried up and Brett rested his cheek on top of her head and just sat holding her.
"I'm sorry" her voice was a hoarse whisper pulling back.
"It's ok, " Brett told her, "I'm fairly sure Doc Andy would say that's a normal part of healing all things considered." longing to stay with her to keep her safe Brett made himself tuck her under the covers and leave.
Maisey started silently at the roof, used to sleeping on her back now. Was Brett right? Why did she need to leave? Contemplating the answer she finally slept.