He went for a long time and never hit me. He didn’t need to. The anger and the way he looked at me let me know that I could die at any moment and he would not shed a tear.
I used to think that and never understood why that thought even entered my mind. Before I recognized I’d married a monster, I used to think, “I could die tomorrow and he wouldn’t shed a tear.” This was something I knew as factually as what I’d eaten for breakfast that morning. I didn’t matter to him. I was not a human being. I was someone to look the part of the perfect wife. I was someone to keep his house clean, do the laundry, make his meals and satisfy his sexual needs. There was no love from him for me. No caring about my needs, my wants or my desires.
It was all about him.
All. The. Time.
It was exhausting being married to him.
I used to wonder about murder-suicides of entire families I would see on television. You know the ones where all the neighbors and friends say, “But they were the perfect family. I don’t understand.”
I’ll tell you what happens. They are married to a man like Daniel. To the outside world, he is the perfect person. The perfect husband and family man.
But later, when no one is watching, he transforms into an unrecognizable monster who is capable of horrendous violence.
I stayed too long and almost lost my life.
I survived.
Jackson is a chance to start fresh. I look at the expansive snow-capped mountains and over at my parents who seem to be happy and excited by this new chapter.
A new life awaits all of us.
“It’s beautiful,” I say to my parents as I struggle to get my suitcase over the final step leading to the front porch. I stop and take a look around. “Really, the scenery is breathtaking.”
And I mean it.
The mountains seem to meet the sky in a wonderous display of rich towering colors. There is a crystal-clear river running near the property and I long to take a hike through the mountains or get a few horses and go for a long ride.
“Can we get chickens?” I ask. “I’ve always wanted some of those funny looking chickens with the furry heads.”
My mother comes up to me and gives me side squeeze.
“Of course, we can,” she says. “We’ll have to find out what they’re called.”
“So, what are we going to do here?” I look at my parents. “We can’t just sit around this big ranch staring at one another.”
“We’ll get things figured out,” my father assures me. “We just need to take some time to decompress and get used to our new identities.”
“Well we better get used to them fast,” my mother says, looking down the long drive toward the road where a blue pickup truck is making its way down our drive.
“Who’s that?” I ask, feeling a sudden panic.
“I guess we’ll find out shortly,” my father says as he takes the steps down to the sidewalk to find out who our unexpected guests are.
The dread in my stomach spreads throughout my entire body as I watched the truck draw closer and closer to our home. Was it the police coming to tell us Wyoming wasn’t safe anymore and we would have to move to a new destination?
Or worse, did Daniel somehow find out we weren’t really dead, and he’d sent someone to find us and make sure we were?
My dread soon gave away to relief as I saw a couple about my parents’ age get out of the front seat of the truck and then, a couple of seconds later, a young woman who looked to be about my age exit and give me a huge smile.
I can’t describe it, but there was something about her that immediately drew me in. It wasn’t her looks, but her exuberant, extroverted personality that pulled me in. She wore very little makeup, but she didn’t need it. She was the kind of girl who probably looked just as pretty as soon as she got out of bed. Her hair was long and black and her eyes were crystal blue.
“Hi!” she came toward me, smiling from ear to ear. “I’m Ava!”
I was just going to say ‘hi’ back to her, but before the words could form in my mouth, I was crushed into an embrace.
“Sorry,” she apologized, smiling. “I’m a hugger.”
“We’re the Brooks,” her father extended his hand to my own father. “I’m Tom and this is my wife, Karen.” He nodded in our direction, “And that’s our daughter, Ava. We have a son, too, Matt, but he’s out on a trail ride with his friends this week and we don’t expect him back for a few more days.”
Mr. Brooks was a good-looking mountain of a man and wore a cowboy hat that had seen better days. I guess that meant he was a real cowboy and not just looked the part. Mrs. Brooks was a very handsome woman.
I’ve always wondered what was meant by that term, but looking at the woman before me, I now understand it. She was very attractive and her features, if not on a woman, would be considered handsome. She was trim and fit for a woman her age and I can tell she once must have looked very much like her daughter.
“What’s your name?” Ava asks me as I stare at her mother and fight the urge to flee into the house.
“S …” I stopped myself and knew I had to cover. “Sorry,” I apologize. “I should have introduced myself right away. I’m Faith. Faith Deveroux.”
I try not to look at my parents for approval and managed to look Ava directly in the eyes.
“It’s nice to meet you, Faith,” she says.
“It’s nice to meet you, Ava.”
Our parents moved to the front porch and were sitting down getting to know one another, leaving me to converse with my new neighbor.
“We’re the next ranch over,” she informs me, her voice enthusiastic. I’m wary and realize I’m being overly cautious, but I can’t seem to let my guard down.
“I know my father bought about three hundred acres that came with the ranch,” I tell her. “How big is your ranch?”
“Something like two hundred thousand. I can’t remember the exact number. It’s been passed down in our family for a few generations. My brother Matt will take it over one day.”
Surely, I misunderstood what she said.
“Did you say two hundred thousand?”
“Hmmm,” she smiles looking around the porch. “Matt’s chomping at the bit to take over, but Mama and Daddy insist he finish college first.”
She starts to look me up and down to the point I’m feeling a bit uncomfortable beneath her scrutiny.
“Matt would like you.” She smiles. “And I think you’d like Matt.”
“I’m sure he’s very nice.”
“He’s handsome, but if you tell him I said that, I’ll deny, deny, deny. Most of the mamas around here are determined to get their daughter married off to him, but he’s not interested in any of them.”
“Really?” I stifle the smile edging my lips.
“Yep, he dated one of the local girls for a while, but he’s never really been serious about anyone and to be honest, I just don’t like her.”
“That’s … interesting,” I comment, because I don’t know what else to say.
“I think Matt will like you a lot. Maybe you could throw your hat in the ring.”
I shake my head.
“I’m not looking for a husband,” At least that’s one thing I can be absolutely truthful about. “I don’t think I’ll ever get married a …” There I go again. I almost slipped up and said, “again.”
I’ve got to be more careful.
“Marriage just doesn’t interest me,” I say.
“I don’t blame you,” she puts her head next to mine as though she’s confiding a deep, dark secret. “If it wasn’t for Caleb Connor. He’s one of Matt’s best friends and …” she lets out a long, slow whistle.