Page 46 of Grounded (May Hollow Trilogy #1)

The next morning, Detective Jeb Harris sat in the living room. Beulah was full of a hundred questions, but she sat as patient as she could be and waited on him to set the pace.

“We found Stella Hawkins last night,” Jeb said.

“She was in the house?” Annie asked.

“No, she had gone to Rutherford to get groceries. When she turned down your road and saw the fire, she panicked and tried to leave the county. One of the deputies spotted the car and pulled her over. We brought her in for questioning and identification as the missing person.”

Beulah exhaled, not even realizing she’d been holding her breath. “Why was she a missing person?”

“Yeah, did she do something wrong?”

“Nothing illegal. She drove down from Chicago in a distressed state, planning to end her life at some point on the journey, but she can tell you about all that. As for her legal troubles, it will depend on how you all feel about her leaving a candle unattended and damaging your property.”

“But what was she dumping in the creek?” Annie asked, her forehead creased like the folds in a quilt.

“Nothing. She was using the bucket to sit by the creek, then decided to try scooping up minnows, then pour them back out. She was … playing, for lack of a better word.”

Beulah rubbed her forehead, wishing she could remove the dull ache that gripped her head like a vice. “Jeb Harris, you’re telling me this woman walked out of her life up North, came down here planning to kill herself, and ended up playing in our creek?”

Beulah didn’t know quite what he found so funny, but Jeb burst out in laughter.

“There’s more to it, but she wants to tell you herself. I’ll bring her out as soon as we’re finished.”

He started out the door and hesitated. “You might have reporters and TV crews bothering you about the fire and Stella’s ordeal.

If you get phone calls, tell them you’re cooperating with the police.

If you want, we can block off the end of your driveway for the day if it would give you some peace and quiet. ”

“Yes, that would be real nice. Of course, we don’t mind our good friends and neighbors stopping by.”

“I’ve got an intern right now who would be perfect. We’ll put him down there for the day.”

After Jeb left, Annie went upstairs to rest. There seemed to be nothing to say until they heard Stella’s side of the story.

Beulah was too keyed up, so she called Evelyn and told her all about the goings-on.

“Jake said it was awful to think somebody might be in that house. Call me when you know more,” Evelyn said, her voice full of sympathy.

“How’s Dixie?” she asked.

“Feisty as ever, but loving my attention. There’s a single doctor in charge of her care, and I suspect she’ll tire of me soon enough.”

The phone started ringing as soon as she hung up with Evelyn. The first call was Betty Gibson.

“Beulah, the Lexington news vans are lined up along the road in front of your house. They’ll be here until after the five o’ clock broadcast and maybe until eleven!

When I went into town for the pie ingredients, I picked up two fryers for you.

I thought you might want them if you can’t leave for a couple of days. ”

“Betty, that’s wonderful. Can you make it through the reporters?”

“Joe’s got it all figured out. He’ll drive his old farm truck through the gate between you and Evelyn and act like he’s going to check cows. I’ll scrunch down in the seat with the chickens. We’ll be there in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

The phone rang continuously after Betty called and Beulah tired of saying, “The police are handling the investigation,” like Jeb instructed her to do with reporter calls. Finally, she turned off the ringer, glad for the silence.

The Gibsons delivered the chickens. After they left, Beulah eased back on her bed and rested her knee and her mind. Rarely before had she ever relaxed in the afternoon, but the knee surgery had changed that. It was as if her whole body was helping the knee to heal and forced her to save her energy.

When she woke up, there was one thing on her mind. Beulah wanted to cook, and cook up a storm. She would be very careful about any quick movements. But if she took it slow, it could be done.

Annie could help her by getting pots and pans and fetching things from the cabinets and refrigerator, but Annie was sleeping and Beulah didn’t want to disturb her.

While Annie needed rest, Beulah needed to shake off the troubles of the night and morning by feeling flour between her fingers, throwing in salt and pepper, and frying up chickens.

Beulah wanted to knead dough until her hands hurt, to release pent-up tension and anxiety.

She wanted to whip up eggs, sugar and butter for chess pies or beat the meringue for a coconut pie.

Getting lost in mixing, frying and baking was her therapy.

It might only be her and Annie for supper, but she would cook enough for an army.

But it wasn’t just Beulah and Annie for supper. Stella Hawkins joined them with the help of Jeb Harris, who must have realized they needed him more than that sting operation down in the mountains of Eastern Kentucky.

Arms crossed and shoulders hunched, Beulah felt immediate compassion for the woman with the flyaway red hair. She was pale as a ghost, except for two rosy circles on her cheeks. Her eyes barely looked up from the ground when Jeb led her into the living room.

Annie settled herself into a chair and they all waited for someone to speak.

Jeb nodded at Stella when she looked his way. She pushed her glasses back on her nose and cleared her throat.

“First, I just want to say I am very sorry about the fire. I left a candle burning accidentally when I went to get groceries. I didn’t mean for that to happen.” Stella met Beulah’s eyes and then looked at Annie.

She took a deep breath and continued, one hand gripping the tail of her sweater and twisting it.

“Things got real bad for me this past year. My job at the library doesn’t pay much and I got into trouble with my finances, too much credit card debt and all.

I sold the only thing of value I had other than my car.

It was an antique Jackson Press that my foster mother gave me when I left home.

I got three thousand dollars for it, but it wouldn’t make a dent in my debt, what with the high interest rate, so I just put it in my savings until I could figure out what to do.

” She let go of the twisted sweater tail, and rubbed her palm on her pants.

“A few weeks ago I got word my foster mother passed away, down in Georgia. The worst thing was, her real kids didn’t even tell me. I found out from a neighbor when I called her.” Stella’s chin quivered and she nervously glanced at Beulah, who nodded for her to go on.

“She was dead and buried and I didn’t even get to say goodbye.

I felt like things were caving in. My doctor gave me something to help with the stress but I never could feel any better.

Then, one day, I just decided that if this was all there was to life, I didn’t want anymore of it.

” Stella picked up the sweater tail again and twisted it.

“I took out the money, put a few things in a suitcase, my bottle of pills, and headed south on Highway 27. I planned to drive to Georgia, leave the money at the church where my foster mother used to take me, and end it there in the church parking lot with that bottle of pills.”

A half-smile played at the corner of her mouth and she met Beulah’s and Annie’s eyes.

“It was a good plan, I thought. But by the time I got to Kentucky, I was so tired. I pulled off in Somerville to eat breakfast after driving most of the night. While I was sitting there, I thought to myself, ‘You made it across the Ohio River. You are in the South now, and maybe this place is as good as Georgia.’ I was just too tired to go on. But the longer I sat, I thought maybe I should wait a week or two. Maybe I should find a place to stay just long enough for me to think through things a little more before I … you know.”

“And that’s when you came to us,” Beulah said, “to rent the stone house.”

“That’s right,” Stella said. “I covered the windows, stayed in the darkness, and was convinced it was time. I took two of my pills and was in the process of taking the rest when you knocked on the door.” Stella looked at Annie. “With food.”

Annie nodded, her eyes wide with understanding.

“It happened another time not long after. I was just ready to finish off the whole bottle when you heard me crying and knocked on the back door. I’m sorry about being so rude.

I just can’t tell you how much pain I was in,” Stella said, letting go of the sweater tail and pulling the cardigan close around her, visibly shivering over the memory of it.

“It’s okay,” Annie said. “I’m glad I disturbed you now.”

Stella smiled. “After that second time, I thought God might be trying to tell me something. I started taking some of the coverings off the windows, letting more light in. I was going after midnight to get groceries when I needed them and many times I would stay up until dawn, so I could sit by the creek without anyone seeing me. One morning when I was out there, I saw a beautiful flower growing by the house. I don’t know what kind it was, but it reminded me of a song I learned years ago at that church in Georgia.

Remember the lilies of the field, for Solomon dressed in royal robes has not the worth of them.

It has more verses than that, but that one line was all I could remember.

But it made me think that if God dresses lilies like that, then doesn’t he care for me?

Something changed inside me then, and I knew he did. ”

Stella took a deep breath. “I felt like I had a new direction, but then I went to get groceries and forgot the burning candle. And when I saw the fire, I felt like I had messed up big this time. I didn’t know what to do but run away.

” Stella rubbed both palms on her pants.

“I am terribly sorry for how I treated you both, especially after your kindness. And I don’t know how long it will take, but I will work to pay you back for all the repairs to the house. ”

“Stella, you don’t owe us anything,” Beulah said. “There’ll be insurance for that. We’re so glad you came to us.”

“You are?” Stella’s eyes widened behind the glasses.

“Of course,” Annie said, reaching over to clasp Stella’s hand. “It was meant to be.”

Jeb stood. “I guess I better get Stella to her hotel and leave you ladies to rest.”

“What? With fried chicken ready to put on the table?” Beulah said.

He looked at Stella. “It’s up to you, Stella, but if you’ve never had Beulah’s fried chicken, it would be a big mistake to leave now after that invitation.”

Stella smiled for the first time and Beulah thought she looked like a hundred-pound weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

Beulah heard the back door open and loud footsteps pound through the kitchen. Woody appeared in the doorway.

“I was dropping off a few more tomato cages and I smelled chicken,” he said, his eyes scanning the room. He saw Stella and something in his expression changed.

“Well, how do?” Woody offered her his hand.

Stella stood and extended her hand too. For a moment, it seemed as if they were the only people in the room.