Where My Heart Belongs Page 5

  Her words slapped Kathy in the face. And later, as she drove home, Sylvia’s warning continued to echo in her mind, the sharp sting of their truth undeniable.

  FIVE

  SUNNY SPENT HER SECOND NIGHT on the farm in a restless state that wouldn’t let her sleep. The first night she’d been so exhausted emotionally and physically that she’d fallen asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. But not so tonight. Tonight the demons of the past tormented her.

  She rolled over and punched down the pillow. The sheets were rather scratchy, definitely nothing like the Pratesi sheets she used to have on her bed. She’d been introduced to Pratesi linens in Beverly Hills, and she’d never used anything else after that. She rubbed her hand over the material near her face. These were no doubt inexpensive sheets picked up on sale for thirty dollars instead of three thousand. In frustration Sunny cast off the offensive piece and let out an exasperated breath.

  She glanced at the lighted alarm clock Kathy had put beside the couch. It was just after one in the morning. There had been a time when this would have been Sunny’s favorite time of the night. She and her friends would have just been starting to party. Pushing back the covers, she sat up and looked around the darkened room. There was a hint of illumination from the hall light Kathy had left on, but otherwise the room was nothing but shadows and shapes.

  Getting up, Sunny stumbled to the living room window and pulled back the shade. The night was quiet and the farm seemed to rest comfortably.

  “So why can’t I?” she asked.

  Why wouldn’t sleep come? There was no good reason. Sure, she was troubled by the way Kathy acted. “She hates me. That much is clear,” Sunny muttered. But Dad was happy to see her again. That should count for something. And of course, it did. Sunny knew such a great peace in his pleasure. He had told her that nothing had mattered more to him than seeing her again and knowing she was safe. Apparently Kathy didn’t share their father’s desires.

  Sunny let the shade fall back into place and switched on the lamp. A photograph of her mother hung on the wall near the living room entrance, and Sunny couldn’t help but go to it. She gazed at the picture, struck by the youthful spirit and excitement in her mother’s expression. This was her graduation picture. She no doubt was excited about starting her new life and leaving childhood behind. Mother must not have been afraid of growing up and taking on new responsibilities—at least not like Sunny had been.

  “If she’d been afraid, she would never have married so young.” Sunny touched the glass that covered the photo. She knew from stories told that her mother and father had married two days after Marg Clarey had graduated high school. There had been no plans for college or trips abroad. There had been no thought of going off to live on her own and make a career for herself. Mother had always and only wanted to be a wife and mom. She had told her daughters that very thing on so many occasions that Sunny never doubted the truth of it.

  Sunny frowned. “We might look something alike, but that must be where the similarities stop. Kathy acts much more like you than I did.”

  “Amy, is that you?”

  Sunny looked down the hall to find her father standing just outside his room. “It’s me,” she answered.

  “What are you doing up so late?”

  She came to where he stood slouched against the doorjamb. His dark red plaid pajamas hung on him—obviously created for a much larger man. “I was just going to ask you the same thing. Come on, let me help you.”

  He gave no protest and leaned heavily on Sunny as they walked the few feet back to his bed. “I heard noises. I thought maybe something was wrong.”

  Sunny guided him to the edge of his mattress and steadied him as he sat down. “I’m sorry I woke you. I couldn’t sleep. I feel like I’ve hurt you all more by coming home than by staying away.”

  “Never say that. I couldn’t bear it. Not knowing whether you were dead or alive—that hurt more.”

  Sunny’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m so sorry, Dad. I never meant for that to happen. Really, I didn’t. I just needed so much more than what I could find here—at least I thought I couldn’t find it here.”

  “And now?”

  “Now . . . I don’t know.” Sunny looked at her father, longing to cry. He was just a ghost of the man he’d once been. “Kathy told me about Mom. She blames me for Mom getting sick, and she’s probably right. I think Kathy hates me.”

  “I can’t see Kathy hating anybody. She’s always giving of herself, and hateful people don’t do that.”

  “She’s been through so much, Dad. So much that she shouldn’t have had to endure by herself. I should have been here to help.”

  “Yes. I suppose you should have been here, but you weren’t,” he said, sounding stronger than he had just moments ago. “Recognizing the truth is always important, but you can’t undo the past that way.”

  “I can’t undo the past no matter what I recognize, but I’d just be happy if my actions could at least stop the pain from passing on to other people.”

  “Your sister has given a good portion of her life to see to my needs,” her father said, as if changing the subject. “I wasn’t much good to Kathy after Mom died. I walked around in a stupor for months. I don’t even remember a whole lot about what I did or said. I just remember the emptiness.”

  “Why don’t you tell me about it?” Sunny urged. “It might help me to better understand.”

  Dad shrugged. “Not a whole lot to tell. With your mother gone, I felt I’d lost a part of myself. I didn’t know how to go on without her. For so much of my life we’d been together. I remember Kathy promising to take care of me— to keep the house and gardens—and all I could think was how it was a good thing she knew what she was doing, because I sure didn’t.”

  Sunny sat down beside Dad and took hold of his hand. “Kathy’s always been strong.”

  “You’re right. She has. By the time I started feeling like I could function again, we found out about the cancer. Kathy was faithful to see me to the doctor for treatments and checkups. She tried to keep me cheered up and encouraged. I could see it was taking its toll on her, but I was selfish and I couldn’t suggest we do things any differently.”

  He tried to move back on the bed a bit and Sunny saw him grimace in pain. “Why don’t you lie back down, Dad? You can talk to me while you rest.”

  He didn’t argue with her as Sunny helped him under the sheet and arranged the pillows. When he was settled, he began again. “I should have sold the farm a long time ago, but I just couldn’t bring myself to leave. Now I’ve put this burden on Kathy.” He moaned and tried to shift his weight. Sunny attempted to help, but he was still just as miserable.

  “This was the place Mom and I had lived since our wedding. It was the place we raised you girls. If I’d had to leave, it would have been like losing everyone I loved.”

  “But you didn’t lose Kathy. She was here all along.”

  “She was here, but in a sense I lost her too. She was never the same after you left. She missed you and worried about you just like the rest of us. Kathy tried never to talk about it, but I knew it was there. I knew the anger and fear, regret and sorrow were eating away at her once easygoing nature, but I couldn’t do anything to stop it.”

  Sunny found the comments shocking. She would never have expected Kathy to give her departure more than a cursory consideration. She had fully expected her mother to be sad, but she hadn’t even figured Dad would be all that upset.

  “I have to tell you, Dad,” she began softly, “I never thought things would turn out the way they did. I never intended to stay away for so long. I always meant to write or call. In my mind, my very immature and selfish mind, I didn’t figure anyone would really care all that much. You would have the farm, Mom would have Kathy and the wedding to focus on, and Kathy would have Kyle. I didn’t see how my leaving could possibly matter.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, it mattered a lot. You were a part of our family. We weren’t complete af
ter you went away.”

  “But I would have gone eventually, even if not then,” Sunny said. “I would have found someone to marry and leave home for.”

  “Yes, but that would have been different. We would have still been a part of your life. We would have known you were safe and taken care of. You don’t have any idea of what it’s like to have a child somewhere, but you don’t know where or if they’re safe.”

  Sunny looked away and tried to keep back the tears. There was so much she wanted to tell her father. So much she wanted to say . . . to apologize for.

  “What happened? Where did you go after you left here?”

  Sunny closed her eyes. She had worked so hard to forget the past and push aside the memories that threatened to smother her.

  “I went to hell. At least it felt that way. There was nothing good or noble or pure—nothing of God in the places I went. You know that psalm that speaks of how even if you made your bed in hell, God would still find you? Well, that’s where He found me, only I didn’t want to be found.” Sunny remembered a morning twelve years earlier.

  “Hi. I’m Mitch Haas.”

  Sunny looked up from where she tanned beside the pool. She put her hand to her eyes to better see the handsome mustached stranger. “I’m Sunny.”

  “I know. I asked about you. You’re new here, aren’t you?” He took a seat on the lounger beside her.

  “Yeah. I just moved here last week.” Sunny had chosen this particular complex because it had furnished one-bedroom apartments for rent. She wasn’t sure when she signed the six-month lease if she really wanted to live in Las Vegas for six months, but she was willing to give it a try.

  “Where are you from?” he asked, giving her a grin that made her stomach do a flip.

  “Nowhere important.” She sat up and suddenly felt very self-conscious about the tiny bikini she wore. Taking up her towel in a casual manner, she pretended to blot her skin in an effort to cover up.

  “I know it well.”

  “Know what well?” Sunny asked.

  “Nowhere important,” he replied. “I lived there for years myself.”

  Sunny laughed. “We probably just missed each other in passing.”

  “You wanna have lunch with me? I know a great little place within walking distance.”

  Sunny felt completely under his spell. “I’d like that. Let me go change. I can be ready in ten minutes.”

  “I kind of like what you’re not wearing right now.”

  Sunny got up and wrapped the towel around her body. “I thought the way you were staring perhaps implied disapproval. I’ll be right back.” She batted her eyelashes and threw him an impish grin as she looked back over her shoulder. She knew this look to be quite effective on the boys at school.

  The look he gave her in return was almost smoldering. It left Sunny weak in the knees and almost breathless. By the time she reached her apartment, Sunny felt all reasonable thought flee her mind.

  Two months later, as she agreed to be Mitch Haas’s wife, her ability to reason was still strangely absent. She could hardly believe this was happening. Marriage was the last thing she had on her mind when she’d left Kansas, but Mitch made it all seem so very necessary.

  “We’re going to have the best time, Sunny,” he whispered just before kissing her soundly.

  The justice of the peace completed their paper work and congratulated them. Mitch paid the man with money Sunny had given him on the way to the chapel. He’d forgotten his wallet back at the apartment, but Sunny didn’t care. She loved him. He was strong and capable, and he made her feel like a princess.

  For the first six months things seemed ideal. Sunny had never been happier, in fact. She thought about calling home and letting her family know where she was and what she’d done, but one thing after another conspired to keep her from such action.

  Then one night when Mitch came home from work late, Sunny forgot all about her family. Mitch was angry, but he wouldn’t say why for the longest time. Then he finally threw a bank statement at Sunny.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you had a separate bank account? We’ve been married for months now—that money should be in a joint account.”

  Sunny looked at the open envelope. “You opened my mail?” She would never have tolerated that kind of thing at home.

  “You want to make something of it?” he asked sarcastically. “I’m your husband. I’ll do whatever I please.”

  “I just thought we respected each other,” Sunny said, trying not to let her anger overrun her mouth.

  “Me respect you? You’re barely nineteen. I’m twenty- seven. I know a lot more about the world than you could imagine. I’ll start respecting you when you know as much as I do. Tomorrow, you go to the bank and transfer that money to our joint account. I mean it.”

  “I have a right to keep my own account,” Sunny said, feeling rather defiant. “My father gave me that money. I have a job, and I put the money I earn there in our joint account. That ought to be enough.”

  He delivered a slap across her face so quickly that Sunny didn’t even have time to defend herself. “I didn’t ask for your lip. I gave you an order. Do you understand?”

  Sunny could hardly see through her tears. “Why are you doing this, Mitch? I thought you loved me.”

  “I thought you loved me. Love doesn’t keep secrets or hoard money. If you loved me the way you claim to love me, you wouldn’t have any problem with sharing what you have.”

  But she did have a problem with it. She supposed there was something in the back of her mind that cautioned her to keep the money separate just in case. Just in case the marriage didn’t work out and she needed to move on. Just in case she needed something that Mitch wouldn’t get her.

  Without warning, he pulled her up out of her chair and threw her against the wall. “I’m not taking this anymore.” He grabbed her and threw her back against the wall again. “I mean it. You’re going to do things my way or suffer the consequences.”

  Sunny’s head hit the wall with such force she momentarily saw stars. She tried to fight back, but it was no use. She was five-four and weighed all of a hundred pounds. Mitch was six-two and had at least eighty pounds on her.

  When he’d finished beating her, Mitch stared down at her in indifference. He almost seemed surprised to see her there in a heap on the dining room floor. “Get that money transferred tomorrow.”

  He left the apartment, slamming the door hard behind him. Unable to move without hurting, Sunny curled up in a ball and fell asleep—confident that this must be some kind of nightmare that she would awaken from in the morning.

  Sunny looked up to see tears in her father’s eyes. “Don’t cry, Daddy. It’s behind me now—behind us both. I’m sorry. I should have never told you about Mitch or the problems we had. It’s an ugly truth that’s best forgotten.”

  “Don’t apologize, Sunshine. The things I used to imagine—the things I thought might be happening to you are so much worse. I figure the truth will set us free.”

  Sunny said nothing. She knew the truth was much worse. Worse than anything she would ever confide to her father. She could never tell him about the endless hours of physical and sexual abuse she’d suffered at the hands of her husband. The truth of her life with Mitch Haas would never set anyone free.

  “Try to get some sleep,” she told her father. “We can talk more in the morning.” But she knew she wouldn’t. She couldn’t bear to put him through that kind of misery.

  She went to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of milk. Sitting at the table, Sunny shuddered. She hadn’t allowed herself to remember Mitch in such a long time. In fact, there was a great deal she hadn’t allowed herself to remember. Her friend Lana had said that sometimes allowing the memories to come was a good thing. When a person could look at the past—remember the events and people who had changed their lives forever—it sometimes unlocked the door to better things. Much like freeing yourself from a prison.

  Sunny’s hand shook vio
lently as she raised the glass to her lips. There was nothing freeing about the memories she’d just shared. Mitch had hurt her far more than she cared to remember. Maybe because he’d been the first person she’d really given her heart to. She’d honestly fallen head over heels in love with the man . . . and he’d nearly killed her.

  “But it was a love built on lies,” she reminded herself. He’d only wanted her for her money. Someone had told him that Sunny was wealthy and that sent him crashing into her destiny.

  “I was such a fool,” Sunny murmured. “Such a fool to leave home. Such a fool to believe in love.”

  SIX

  KATHY TURNED THE HEAT DOWN on the bacon, then went to make coffee. She had no idea if Sunny would want breakfast, but it seemed a reasonable thing to expect. Funny, she really didn’t know much at all about her sister. She didn’t know what Sunny liked or disliked. She didn’t even know if her sister ate breakfast. She obviously watched her weight, because her figure was perfect—maybe too perfect. Kathy was suspicious that her sister had probably had breast augmentation. None of the women in their family filled out a blouse in quite the way Sunny did. Of course, that could just be happenstance.

  The phone rang, distracting her coffee count. “Did I put in four scoops or three?” she questioned aloud as she stared at the basket. With a sigh she decided it was four and closed the maker.

  “Hello?” she answered on the fifth ring.

  “Hello, sweetie. It’s Aunt Glynnis.”

  Kathy glanced at the clock. Glynnis lived in Colorado Springs and the time was an hour behind. “Goodness, but you’re up early. It’s only six-thirty your time.”

  “I didn’t think. Did I wake you?”

  “No.” Kathy laughed. “Even when I sleep late, I don’t think it’s ever much past eight o’clock. It’s that early-to-bed, early-to-rise mentality of the Kansas farmer, don’t you know.”