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“Oh God,” she whispered, turning her head to stare out the passenger window.
“Hey, Madison ain’t all that bad. I’ve lived my whole life here. It’s a nice little place. I promise.”
She didn’t say anything, but she was clasping her hands so tightly together in her lap that I was afraid her nails were going to puncture her skin. The last thing she needed was more wounds. I still wasn’t sure what else was hurt on her, but from the way she was sitting and being careful with her right side, I’d say her ribs weren’t okay.
“I think maybe it would be best if you could drop me at a bus station close to here or maybe just at the nearest service station. I can find another ride,” she said, then glanced at me warily.
I shook my head. “No, sweets, I can’t do that. I already know what happens to you at service stations, all alone. And the nearest bus station is in Atlanta. It’s rush hour, and as helpful as I am and as pretty as you are, I’m still not willing to face that shit. Just come on to Maeme’s. Get you some dinner. You’ll be safe. I’d be willing to bet there isn’t a safer place in Georgia.”
A panicked look came over her face. She was grasping at anything to change my mind.
“We’re close to Atlanta?” she asked.
“Yes, but we are gonna be back on a big ole piece of land, way off the road, in a farmhouse where whoever you’re running from isn’t gonna come looking for you. If they did, then they’d have to deal with Maeme, and, well, that’s something they wouldn’t do for long,” I assured her, then grinned. “Come on now. Relax. You are safe. I might not know what it is going on, but no one will find you. Whoever is looking, they won’t look here.”
Her chin snapped up, and she narrowed her eyes. “Why do you think I’m worried someone is gonna find me?”
I slowed the truck and turned onto the private drive that led to Maeme’s house. “You’ve been hit. Someone used you as a punching bag, and that ain’t a mark left by a woman. You have a suitcase you’re carrying around, and you are so scared of men that you literally tremble when they get near you. I pay attention. You needed help. I noticed it the moment I laid eyes on you. So, I did what I had been raised to do. I helped.” That was so far from the truth that hell should have opened up and swallowed me. What I’d been raised to do was not help. Not even close.
She said nothing as I pulled the truck up to the farmhouse I’d been raised in. It wasn’t as big as my dad’s mansion where he lived with his fourth wife, who was only two years older than me, and my five-year-old half-sister, but it was a three-story gothic-style farmhouse with a wraparound porch.
I parked and then turned to look at Rumor again. “We’re here.”
She studied the house and looked around at the rows of pecan trees surrounding us for as far as the eye could see. “This isn’t a farmhouse,” she said.
I shrugged. “Eh, it’s close enough. You ready?”
She took a shaky breath, then nodded.
I climbed out of the truck and went to get her suitcase as she opened her door. I left the luggage to go help her down. Whatever injury she had under her clothes didn’t need her jumping down. Not the way she was being so careful with it.
“Let me help you,” I said.
She stared at my outstretched hand as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to touch me. That was so foreign to me that I wasn’t sure how to even deal with it. Grasping, I tried to think of something to say to convince her to trust me.
“If Maeme sees you getting out of my truck without my help, I won’t get the banana pudding,” I told her with a pleading look.
Her lips twitched as if she might smile, but she didn’t. Finally, she slid her hand into mine, and I took all the weight I could as she stepped down. The wince on her face had me wishing I’d just picked her up, but that would have really scared the shit out of her.
“You okay?” I asked as she inhaled sharply through her nose.
She nodded. “Fine.”
No, she wasn’t. She was hurt, and if I couldn’t get her to let me see it and help, then Maeme was gonna have to do it. Someone needed to see how bad it was. If she had cracked ribs, she needed them seen to. I headed over to get her suitcase and picked it up.
“Just in time, and you brought a guest,” Maeme called out from the front porch. “What a nice surprise!”
The instant ease to Rumor’s shoulders made me want to laugh. My grandmother had a way with people. She could work a crowd. Dad said I had gotten that from her. God knew I hadn’t gotten it from him.
“Maeme,” I called out as we approached the porch. “This is Rumor. I found her needing some assistance down in Pensacola. Thought you might like some company and another mouth to feed.”
Maeme’s smile widened as she put her hands on her hips. “Lord, what a pretty thing you are. I hope this one was a gentleman. He isn’t always. But I raised him the best I could. Now, come on in here and let me get you some sweet tea. I just made a fresh pitcher,” she crooned, walking over to put her hand on Rumor’s back.
When Rumor flinched, Maeme froze, then looked from me to Rumor. “Is more than that lovely face of yours hurt?” she asked with a frown.
I expected Rumor to deny it, as she had with me.
“Yes,” she replied.
