Page 5 of The Women of Wild Hill

Kayleigh began to cry. “I can’t believe she told you that.”

“You’re ashamed,” Phoebe observed. “Why? You’ve done nothing wrong. Do you know how many women I meet who are just like you? Painting over bruises and pretending they fell down the stairs. Trying their best to keep up appearances when their worlds have crumbled.”

“There’s nothing I can do. There’s no way out,” Kayleigh insisted.

“I’ve thought it through a thousand times.

My parents will blame me if I leave my husband.

They won’t take me in. I haven’t had a job in years.

I can’t afford to support my sons on my own.

Even if I did leave Curtis, he’d just come right after me.

He’s not a man who takes no for an answer.

The best thing for me and my boys is to keep my head down and do whatever he wants. ”

Phoebe reached out and took Kayleigh’s hand. “And yet, here you are. You know what that tells me? It tells me part of you knows there are other lives you could be living.” Phoebe’s eyes closed and she nodded. “I can see them, too.”

Outside, a vehicle was approaching the house. It came to a stop and the engine turned off.

“Kayleigh!” a man’s voice shouted.

Kayleigh recoiled, jerking her hand out of Phoebe’s. A door slammed.

Phoebe opened her eyes and glanced toward the front door. “I’m guessing that’s your husband?”

“Yes, that’s Curtis.” Kayleigh ripped open the envelope that contained mifepristone and dry swallowed the little white pill.

“I know you’re here, Kayleigh!” Curtis shouted from the front yard. “Your goddamned car is parked outside.”

“If he finds me, he’ll kill me,” Kayleigh whispered.

“Then stay here,” Phoebe ordered as she made her way to the door.

“He carries a gun on him,” Kayleigh warned her. “He’ll shoot you.”

“Not today,” Phoebe assured her. For once, she had a taste of her sister’s power. “That wasn’t the message the pig brought me.”

THE MAN SHE MET ON the front lawn of the homestead was the spitting image of the douchebag she’d pictured, with the bright red face of a squalling infant. “Hi there,” she said with a smile. “May I help you?”

He didn’t answer at first. He seemed thrown to find himself faced with a woman who wasn’t intimidated. It took him a moment to camouflage his own fear with disgust.

“What the hell are you?” Curtis sneered. “Go get your boss.”

“I’m the owner of this property,” Phoebe replied.

“Well then, you know why I’m here. Tell my wife to come out.”

“Who?” Phoebe enjoyed seeing his face turn a deeper shade of red and wondered if he was going to spare her some trouble and expire from a heart attack.

“My goddamned wife!” he shouted. “Kayleigh, if you did something to harm a baby, there’s gonna be hell to pay!” Then he turned back to Phoebe. “And you. I won’t rest until you’re locked up for ninety-nine years.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Phoebe said.

“That’s my wife’s car right there!”

“Is it?”

“Goddammit, I’ll just go in and find her myself.”

Phoebe laughed. “The hell you will. You’re on my property, and I’m asking you to leave before I have to make you.”

He reached around to a holster, and Phoebe saw the gleam of metal as he swung the gun around to face her.

Then he disappeared in a blur, and she heard a brief scream just before the gun went off.

When the dust settled, the only parts of Curtis that remained visible lay south of his gut.

The rest of him was buried under four hundred pounds of hog, with his face wedged right in the pig’s ass.

Phoebe took out her phone and dialed Ed. “You better get back over here,” she said. Then she stepped forward, avoiding Curtis’s boots, which were digging channels in the dirt, and addressed the pig.

“Good work,” she told the animal. “I’d give you a scratch but it wouldn’t look right on camera. But do me a favor and ease up just a little? This isn’t really our call. We should let his wife decide what she wants to do with him.”

Petunia snorted as though she wasn’t convinced the man should be spared. She directed a second angry grunt at Kayleigh, who’d just stepped outside.

“Well?” Phoebe asked Kayleigh. “My security cameras caught everything on tape. They don’t record audio, though. So I can ask the pig to get up—or we can leave her just the way she is. You know what will happen if she stays put. I’m aware you’re a God-fearing woman, so I want to make sure—”

“Leave the pig where she’s at.” Now that the tables had turned, Kayleigh’s face showed no sign of terror.

“Well then, you heard the lady,” Phoebe told the pig.

Petunia let her full weight down on Curtis’s head. The muffled cries were instantly silenced and his feet stopped clawing the ground.

“You go now,” Phoebe ordered Kayleigh. “I’ll stay here and deal with the authorities.”

Phoebe waited until the car was speeding down the drive before she turned her attention back to the hog. “Don’t get me wrong, Petunia, I’m very grateful. But I’m still not gonna be scheduling any family reunions.”

Petunia snorted once in disgust and rose to her feet.

Her two babies scrambled out from under the porch to join her as she trotted off toward the creek and into the sea of bluebells.

Curtis lay spread-eagle on the river rock path, eyes staring up at the gathering clouds, his blue face covered in hog shit and black bristles.

Phoebe crouched over him and laid two fingers on his jugular, even though he looked dead as hell.

She felt no pulse. Still, she’d watched too many horror films to feel comfortable with a gun on the ground so close to his hand.

Phoebe used the hem of her dress to pick up the weapon and transport it to the porch.

She was sitting on the steps, watching the body, when Ed arrived in his Jeep. Just the sight of him set her at ease. She’d never fancied any man but Ed, and she knew for a fact she never would. The winds had picked up and he held the brim of his hat with two fingers as he made his way to the house.

“The sky’s been looking awful mean,” Phoebe noted.

Ed glanced up. “No storms in the forecast,” he said.

“Like that means anything these days,” Phoebe replied.

“True,” Ed agreed. He’d come to stand over the body. “What the hell happened to him?”

“He pulled a gun on me, and Petunia sat on him,” Phoebe replied. “I never touched a hair on his head.”

Ed nodded and scratched at his stubble. “I assume we got footage of it all?”

“Yep.” Phoebe pointed up at the nearest camera.

Ed looked all around. “Where’s the pig? I should probably thank her.”

“She ran off when I told her I hadn’t changed my mind about Brigid.”

“After she saved your ass? Damn, you’re stubborn.”

The sky darkened dramatically, and they heard the ping of a hailstone on the homestead’s tin roof.

“I’m thinking we should probably table this conversation and seek shelter,” Phoebe said.

“Anyone else here?” Ed asked.

“Nope, it’s just us right now.”

Ed lifted his eyebrows. “Feel like going down to the cellar?”

Phoebe grinned. “I sure do.”

Ed and Phoebe headed for the wooden doors beside the old homestead that led into the house’s root cellar.

Back in the old days, before all the renovations were finished and their daughter was born, the cellar had been one of the few places that stayed cool in the summers.

She and Ed had spent many an afternoon down there over the years.

Phoebe waited at the bottom of the stairs while he closed the reinforced trapdoors and secured them with the heavy iron bars.

Then she felt his hands cup her face and his lips meet her own. Outside, the wind had begun to wail.

“Sounds like something big is coming,” Ed whispered in her ear. “Maybe you should have married me when you had the chance.”

“Such a shame,” Phoebe said. “But at least we won’t die with a pig’s butt in our face.”

“Thank heaven for small favors,” Ed drawled.

Outside, the storm howled, but the cellar doors held tight. Twenty minutes later, the din died down. They lay naked on the floor, covered in stale cellar dirt and staring up at the trapdoors. A thin sliver of light cut across the floor beside them. The storm was over and the sun had come out.

When they opened the doors, the first thing Phoebe saw was the sea of bluebells, which had survived unscathed. Only problem was, she shouldn’t have been able to see them at all.

“Guess we don’t need to worry about the body.” Ed pointed to the spot where Curtis had lain. There was no trace of him or his truck now. The tornado had whisked both away.

“Gonna save a lot on the electric bill, too,” Phoebe added. The house was gone as well. Whatever had passed over them had ripped it right off its foundation. There was nothing left—not a single shard of glass or chip of paint.

A long silence followed. It wasn’t the first time Phoebe had lost everything.

“Dammit,” Phoebe finally said.

“What are you thinking?” Ed asked.

“I’m thinking I should have listened to the goddamned pig. The Old One isn’t taking no for an answer. I have to go back to Wild Hill.”