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Chapter One
Ellie shuffled into the coffee shop for the fifth day in a row, head down, surveying everything around her from the corner of her eye.
It was early morning, their busiest time, and the woman behind the counter was engrossed in taking and making up orders.
Ellie made abeelinefor the bathroom, guilt chasing at her heels. She gave a sigh of relief when she found the small room empty and locked the door behind her.
It was probably stupid to feel guilty; she was planning to buy coffee before she left, but she simply couldn’t help it. She’d been moved on before.
Sighing tiredly, she lifted her head and looked at herself in the mirror.
Wisps of hair had escaped from the loose plait she wore her hair in to sleep, not that she’d got much. Dark shadows of exhaustion underlined the pain that was etched into the grey eyes that looked back at her.
How had her life come to this?
Shaking her head, Ellie sucked in a breath and straightened her spine. Nothing screamed down and out as much as that look of defeat.
Rummaging about in her oversized shoulder bag, she dug out a small wash kit and hurriedly washed her face, cleaned her teeth and sprayed deodorant. Shimmying out of the leggings and tee-shirt, she quickly changed into a pair ofcapristhat she’d rolled carefully to prevent creasing and a cropped blouse which had received the same treatment. They’d stayed pretty neat, thank goodness, she thought critically, as she eyed her reflection.
She folded her discarded clothing and put it into a carrier bag. She’d been changing conscientiously every day, no matter what, determined to maintain some small amount of normality. Even if it meant wearing her sleepwear for a little longer than she might like. But she couldn’t afford to use the launderette until she had a full load, so there wasn’t any choice. This really was a case of ‘Beggars can’t be choosers’!
Dragging a brush through her hair, she re-plaited its long length before deciding makeup was going to be a necessity. She needed to look her best if she had any chance of finding a job and digging herself out of the deep hole she’d recently fallen into through no real fault of her own.
It was time to get back on her feet.
Eight hours later, she sat in the same cafe, thirty minutes before closing, and all she had achieved were blistered heels, disillusionment and a rather shady offer of work in a strip club.
Jeez! Was that really the best she could do?
Carefully counting out what little change she had, Ellie ordered herself the hot special which had been reduced down to half-price to finish out the day and grabbed the complimentary newspaper so she could scan the job vacancies.
The sad truth was, that with every night that slid by, a job at one of those sleazy meat markets seemed like the only one she was going to get.
What scared her the most was that she was starting to wonder if she actually was that desperate… and she didn’t like the answer.
Ellie’s stomach growled embarrassingly just as the waitress brought over her tray of food, reminding her it was twenty-four hours since she’d eaten. The special wasn’t one of her favorite dishes, but it was hot, cheap and nutritious and, the way things were, she really couldn’t afford to be that picky. She’d checked out two different homeless shelters, but they had both been full. One of them did, at least, allow her to use their shower facilities a couple of times a week. She hadn’t been forced to sleep rough, so she could at least maintain some sort of standards. She knew she could tip up earlier in the day to book a place, but her conscience wouldn’t let her take a bed from someone with a greater need.
She was better off than some people, she could accept that.
The job segment was woefully sparse. Nothing at all that didn’t require references. Ellie sighed as she tried her best not to bolt her food; tried to savor it. It was amazing how good something you didn’t particularly like tasted when you were starving.
Her gaze dropped to the subsequent ‘wanted’ section and zeroed in on one particular ad.
‘Wives wanted for three hardworking cowboys. Must be able to cook, clean, and sew, and understand the basic workings of a ranch. Above all, must be prepared to live in a remote, off-grid area.’
It almost seemed too good to be true. Wait a minute. It probablywastoo good to be true. They were probably mass murders. Except… would a murderer advertise for victims? Maybe not. But, well, what kind of men advertised for a wife in this day and age?
Still, something about the plea called to her, and she surreptitiously tore out the small square of paper and popped it in her purse. Perhaps it was because the mere mention of ranch life brought back happy memories of the childhood she had adored before her parents died. Or maybe it was because the idea of being an old-fashioned wife, one who cooked and sewed, and maintained a home, appealed to her on a level she had never quite understood; something that was instilled into her by subsequently being brought up by an elderly Grandmother who had believed in a different set of values to contemporary women. She had taught Ellie to sew and knit, to darn and embroider, to pluck and gut and fillet as well as cook, bake and preserve. All of those old-fashioned lifestyle values which Ellie loved, but which the modern pace of life seemed too busy to bother with.
She became aware that the waitress kept flicking impatient looks her way and realized she’d let the time get away from her. The woman wanted to close up and Ellie was keeping her from doing so. Damn! There was no way she could use the cafe’s bathroom now, without drawing unwanted attention to herself, which meant she’d have to chance her nightly routine to the public toilets, which were filthy. Damn, damn, damn. Ellie folded the paper and felt obliged to leave a bigger tip than she could afford before heading off down the street.
Later that night as she tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position to lie in, in the cramped confines of her car, she wondered if she had the guts to reply to the advert which was becoming more and more appealing. It was that or the strip club. She couldn’t carry on like this much longer.
It had been three months since her ailing Grandmother had died. As much as Ellie missed her, in some respects it had been a blessing; freeing the once proud woman from the pain and confusion brought on by severe dementia and acute arthritis.
The last six years had been tough. Ellie had given up her own life in order to provide round-the-clock care for the woman who had taken her in when her parents had been killed in a car crash. Ellie had been twelve years old and her Grandmother gave her a home, without a second thought, despite already being in her seventies. She had given her love and care and taught her so very much as well as saving her from the foster system. There was no way Ellie wasn’t going to pay that back.
There hadn’t been a huge amount of money, but enough for them to manage without Ellie having to go out and work. Well, until Gran had died, and the house had to be sold to pay off the medical bills. That’s when everything had started to fall apart.
