A Trace of Memory, page 11
“I’m not so sure. If I were gone, and Blake knew it, maybe he’d back off and stop threatening you and Cleo.”
“And maybe he’d still come after us and you. As long as we stick together we can help each other stand against him and his cohorts. If you were alone, he’d have the advantage.” Travis’s voice dropped lower and sent tingles up her spine when he added, “And if he manages to get his hands on you again, he might very well lock you back up in the room you described. Are you willing to chance that?”
All Emma could do was shake her head. The idea of once again being Blake’s prisoner was so appalling it was beyond imagination. She could not go back there. She’d die if he recaptured her. Emma couldn’t leave Sissy with him, either. She would call the sheriff that evening and tell him what she’d remembered about the girl.
At that moment, any expectations of a happy, peaceful future vanished. She wasn’t planning to knuckle under. She was simply unable to imagine anything past the final, face-to-face encounter she and Blake Browning must surely have.
God willing, I’ll best him, Emma mused while butterflies beat their wings against her insides and her heart raced. And I hope no one else is harmed when it happens.
That was the scariest part of the entire scenario. If someone dear to her, or even a stranger, had to suffer as a result of her mistakes and inadequacies, it would magnify her sins immeasurably. That must not happen.
She squeezed her eyes shut to pray, “Please be with us, Father.”
From behind her she heard Travis’s softly spoken “Amen.”
That was enough to bring tears. Emma sniffled and held them back. There had been altogether too much weeping going on lately. Being confused and frightened was no reason for her to cry at the drop of a hat. Or, in this case, at the innocent touch of a special person’s hand and his heartfelt “amen.”
Tomorrow was Sunday, as Cleo had recently reminded her, and as long as the family was still planning to attend services, Emma wanted to go, too.
Although Travis had teased her about agreeing with his opinions, he had made perfect sense when he’d reminded her that there was safety in numbers. Recalling Blake’s former life, before they’d left Serenity, she knew he had never darkened the door of a church. As a matter of fact, he had belittled her love of gospel songs until he’d seen that their audiences liked them, too, particularly when she sang her favorites.
It would be good to be back among the Lord’s people, Emma concluded easily. And good to raise her voice in praise once again. Perhaps, for the hour or so that she, Travis and Cleo were safely seated in the familiar sanctuary, she’d be able to lay aside her burdens and finally feel free of the heavy sadness she’d borne for longer than she could remember.
The mere notion of returning to church lifted her spirits immeasurably. Coming home to Serenity and Travis had been part of her spiritual and physical journey. Going back to the Lord’s house would be another important step in the right direction.
Surely, He would bless that, she reasoned logically. The prodigal son had been welcomed home by his earthly father. How much more must God rejoice when one of His errant children returned to the fold?
Emma purposefully closed the laptop and pushed away from the side of the desk where she’d been working. They knew a lot more now than they had yesterday. By tomorrow, perhaps she would have recalled even more.
God, help me to accept those memories, no matter what they tell me or how much they hurt, she prayed silently.
That was the key, wasn’t it?
She feared more than Blake and his cohorts.
She feared the reality buried in her own mind.
* * *
Travis didn’t usually wear a suit jacket to church. Neither did most of the men in attendance. In this case, however, he made an exception and donned a suede blazer over his best jeans and good boots.
Poor Emma had fretted about not having proper clothing until Cleo had rummaged around and found her a denim skirt to borrow. Travis didn’t recall seeing that skirt on his aunt, which was just as well, since there was no comparison between her and Emma other than an apparently similar size. On Emma, anything looked great and the skirt was no exception.
She twirled to show him. “How’s this?”
“Fine. You could wear your regular jeans to Serenity Chapel if you wanted to. We don’t look down on anybody, no matter how they’re dressed.”
“I know. That’s one of the things I’ve always loved about worshipping there. It’s as if Jesus were setting the example of loving everybody.”
“Exactly.” He fisted his keys. “Ready?”
“Isn’t Cleo coming with us?”
“She’ll meet us there after she picks up a couple of other older ladies who no longer drive. They could take the church bus but they prefer to ride with Cleo.” He chuckled quietly and cupped his hand at the side of his mouth to add, “That way they can gossip privately.”
“Do you think anybody has heard about me being back?”
“Undoubtedly. Nothing much escapes notice in a small town. You should know that. You grew up here.”
“I know. I was just hoping....”
“Don’t worry about it, Emma. People will be glad to see you no matter what. You’ve been missed.”
“I have?”
“Yes, you have,” Travis told her. Growing solemn, he added, “Especially by me.”
The closer they got to the familiar church building, the more Emma began to feel at home. Other parts of Serenity had given her a sense of déjà vu but making this trip on a Sunday morning seemed so natural, so right, she had to smile.
“I’m glad we’re doing this,” she told Travis.
“So am I.”
Beams of sunlight broke through scattered clouds and bathed the white steeple in gold as if bestowing a heavenly benediction. It seemed to Emma that God was visibly blessing her return and warming her wounded heart. This day might be one of a thousand others, but it was so special to her she could hardly contain her joy.
When she’d returned to Serenity she’d been trying to come home, yet some element of the experience had still been missing. This was it. Going to church with her best friend, and so many folks she’d known in the past, was like getting a welcoming hug from the whole community.
“I can’t believe how good I feel this morning,” Emma said with a grin. “I can almost believe we’ve gone back to the days before I left.”
To her chagrin, Travis didn’t echo her sentiments. When she looked at his profile she could see the muscles in his jaw clenching.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s okay. I only wish we could go back.”
“I wish we could, too. It’s just so hard to anticipate the future when you’re a teen. We were kids, Travis. At least I was. All I could see was the glitter and excitement of possible success as a singer. I didn’t realize I was already a star here in Serenity.”
“I don’t begrudge you the chance to go to Nashville,” he said flatly. “I never did. What hurt the most was the way your letters changed. You changed. And then you stopped writing altogether.”
A startling notion popped into her head. “Wait. When was that?”
“About the time your father passed away.”
“Then it was close to the time the whole band got arrested.” Emma grew pensive. “I have an idea that I may have stopped writing to you because Blake had already locked me up.”
“I’d thought of that. But what about before? You sounded as if you didn’t want to share your successes with me anymore. When you first went to Nashville you told me everything.”
“Everything good, you mean.” She sighed audibly. “By the time the band got into so much trouble we’d fallen on hard times. I didn’t want anybody to be able to say, ‘I told you so,’ so I didn’t admit we’d failed.”
“What about the thefts and drugs?” Travis asked as he wheeled into the driveway leading to the church parking lot. “When did you tumble to what they were doing and turn them in?”
“I’m not sure. I remember a police officer telling me I was free to go because I’d given them the tip that led to the arrests, but I’m not positive about the timing. I know I’d never have tolerated them breaking the law once I’d found out about it.”
“That says a lot for your character,” he offered.
“Maybe. But it’s not much of a boost to my ego to think that I was blind to it for who knows how long. If I hadn’t been so trusting, maybe all this could have been avoided.”
“And maybe, if you hadn’t been involved, they’d still be out there robbing innocent people.”
Emma had to agree. “Okay. I’ll buy that. What I still don’t understand is how Robbie ended up in jail.”
As he parked and got out to circle to her door, Emma was able to see the concern in Travis’s expression.
“One day at a time,” he said as he helped her out. “I think it would be best if you stopped dwelling on the things you don’t know and concentrated on the service for a change.”
“Right again,” she said with a smile. “I suppose now you’re going to get a swelled head.”
“That is twice you’ve admitted I was right.” He mirrored her grin. “But I’ll try to remain humble.”
“You do that.” Emma’s spirits were so lifted she wondered if her feet were actually touching the ground. This was where she belonged. In Serenity. Going to church. With Travis Wright.
Beyond that lay circumstances over which she had no control. Letting those cares go and worshipping fully was all she wanted at that moment.
Later, when they went home again, she’d have plenty of time to worry.
And, God willing, to remember even more.
TWELVE
The atmosphere inside Serenity chapel was as welcoming as ever, putting Travis more at ease. He’d known in his heart that the congregation had an overall loving nature; he’d simply needed extra confirmation that those who remembered Emma would treat her as a returning sister.
They not only did that—a local reporter spotted her and begged for a story while the music director shook her hand vigorously and invited her to sing an unplanned, special song during the service.
To Travis’s relief and delight, Emma blushed and agreed to sing, although a bit reluctantly.
That meant it was more advantageous for them to choose a pew near the front, making Emma visible to anyone who had not noticed her before. When she stood during the service to make her way to the raised platform in front of the choir, everyone applauded.
She picked up the microphone. Her gaze briefly roamed the dimly lit sanctuary before settling on him. He smiled and gave her a thumbs-up.
A piano and organ duet played the intro to “How Great Thou Art,” a well-known hymn he remembered was a favorite of Emma’s.
The moment she began to sing, it felt as if the entire building was holding its breath. Her voice was not merely beautiful, it was inspired in a way he had never noticed before. A spotlight made her blond hair glisten like spun gold. Her eyes sparkled with the emotion behind the words she was singing.
Travis folded his hands and prayed silently for her full healing. If this performance was any indication of her superbly honed talent, it was a wonder she had not found the fame she’d sought. Maybe, given another chance, she would.
That notion settled in his heart and made it ache. He had been wrong when he’d tried to keep Emma in Serenity. To have done so would have meant denying her gift, a gift that had never been more evident than it was at that very moment.
At the final crescendo, she bowed her head as if giving thanks, then looked up—and froze.
In spite of the thunderous applause, Emma looked petrified. Why? Surely she wasn’t disappointed in such a stellar performance.
She began to back up, looking quickly from side to side before thrusting the mic at the choir director and hurrying off via a side door.
Astounded, Travis was a few seconds slower in responding. By the time he’d jumped to his feet to follow her, Emma had disappeared.
* * *
Raising her voice to praise God had brought Emma an unexpected elation. She’d almost forgotten what a blessing it was to open her heart and sing like that.
Tears of gratitude had blurred her vision. She’d blinked them away and stepped back, intending to rejoin Travis in the pew near the front.
Her misty gaze had drifted over the congregation. Many were getting to their feet to show their support and appreciation.
Because of that, Emma almost missed a different kind of movement from the double doors at the rear of the sanctuary.
Having an usher hold the door open for a latecomer wasn’t unusual, but seeing a large, shadowed figure pause in the opening and focus only on her, was.
Although she was far from certain that the person she spied was her enemy, his arrival and subsequently menacing pose were enough to spur her to take evasive action.
The building’s basic configuration had not changed since she’d been gone. The closest passageway led to the ladies’ restroom and the choir room, then on to the exits on either side of the rear addition. Any of those avenues would suffice.
What she was not going to do was stand there in the spotlight and take the chance that her enemies would defile the service. Or recapture her.
Without a backward glance she’d turned on her heel, shoved the mic at the surprised-looking choir director and taken off at a run.
The entire service was being broadcast all over the building for the sake of those whose volunteer jobs kept them busy elsewhere, such as in the case of the nursery workers.
Emma could hear everything. Unfortunately, she could not differentiate between the sounds coming from the joyful choir and congregation and anyone who might be chasing her.
She emerged into a rear hall that formed the crosspiece of a T-shape. “Which way? Which way?” Her panicky words were little more than a ragged breath.
No divine guidance was forthcoming. The urge to pause and pray was overridden by fear.
Stay or go?
Neither choice seemed right. If she stayed she might be putting many others in danger. If she fled to the outside, where could she hide?
And what about Travis? He was armed, yes, but she had left him behind. Where would he be most likely to come looking for her?
Emma’s feet made the ultimate decision. She sped toward the glass exit door that was closest and headed for a morning greeter who had not yet left his post.
Straight-arming the door before the astonished man could open it for her, she hit the gravel lot at a run and picked up the pace even more.
A line of clear windows along the side of the building would do her no favors, she realized. Anybody who chanced to look out would be certain to see her. To know where she had headed.
Nevertheless, she kept on course until she could duck behind a row of parked cars. Once there, she leaned over, hands on her knees and gasped for air. It wasn’t only the race that had left her so breathless, it was the thought that no place was safe.
Not even church on a sunny Sunday morning.
* * *
Travis left through a different door rather than call even more attention to Emma by invading the stage and using the same exit she had. He knew the hallways connected behind the baptismal area so that was where he headed.
He had no idea what had frightened her but he could not—he would not—dismiss her concerns. Even if her reaction had been no more than stage fright she needed him right now. And, truth to tell, he was desperate to make sure she was okay. Anything else was secondary.
God would understand why he’d had to jump up and follow Emma, Travis reasoned logically. Given the fact that she was nowhere to be seen, he certainly hoped the Lord would help him locate her, too.
Where? Which way?
He stood at a corner and pivoted, scanning the nearly deserted hallways in both directions. Someone was manning a side door, so Travis headed over to ask the usher if he had noticed Emma.
The closer he got, the more Travis’s heart pounded. There was something wrong. Instead of greeting him as he’d expected, the older man was leaning against the jamb and holding his head.
Travis clasped his bent elbow. “What happened?”
The graying head shook slowly. “Beats me. I was just standing here, watching a lady run off, when somebody else pushed me down.”
“What lady? What did she look like?”
“Blonde, I think. Youngish. I didn’t get a real good look at her.”
“What about the guy who shoved you?”
“Didn’t see him good at all. Just kind of a blur as he ran past.”
Noticing another usher approaching, Travis motioned to him to help the shaken man, then darted out through the same door.
Except for a few late arrivals, the parking lot lacked pedestrians.
Travis knew that racing around like a June bug on a hot sidewalk was stupid. So was standing still when Emma might be in terrible jeopardy.
The more the morning’s events coalesced in his mind, the more certain Travis was that Emma had seen someone she’d recognized and feared. That had to be the reason she’d fled. But how was he going to locate her before it was too late?
Since they were now outside, he decide to chance calling to her. “Emma!”
She didn’t answer or show herself.
Three rows down, near where he had parked the farm truck, however, someone straightened and pivoted.
It was the creep from the attack at the store! It didn’t take a genius to figure out the guy was tracking Emma again.
