First and foremost...Pre-orders are now available for the new edition of Undercover in Six Inch Stilettos!
Now that the business is out of the way, it's time for some fun stuff- the Monday free read! Each Monday I will be releasing a chapter in a currently unpublished novel. Make sure you drop by each week for the newest installment from my book Down the Dirt Road.
1999
Chapter
One
“How could this day get any worse?!”
Jennie Marshall yelled up at the clear blue sky from her ungraceful position on
the shoulder of the old dirt road. If she had been paying better attention as
she made her way home maybe she would have seen the watermelon sized rock she
had just tripped over. Now, sprawled on the ground, she winced as she shifted
her body. Her big toe hurt like crazy and definitely felt wet. Rolling over and
sitting up, she inspected her injured foot. Dirty and streaked with blood, the
toe had obviously met the rock up close and personally.
Damned old dirt road.
And while she was at it, damn Michael McKee
and Trisha Parker. If not for them and their big announcement she wouldn’t have been so consumed with anger she
might have noticed the stupid rock sticking up right in front of her.
For once in her eighteen years, Jennie
wished she had just been like everyone else. Or, at the very least, a lot more
like Trisha. Jennie was always so cautious, thinking everything through. Trisha
threw caution to the wind. If Jennie had just given Michael what he really
wanted instead of thinking so much, she wouldn’t be sitting here crying over a
stubbed toe on the side of the road while her ex-friend and former boyfriend
danced off into the southern sunset together.
She winced, not sure if it was the pain in
her toe or the thought of that night, a couple of weeks ago when Michael had
taken her to the lake for a sunset picnic.
He was so sweet, the setting romantic- perfect actually for her first
time. And she really did want to do it, she just couldn’t shake the voice of
her Momma deep in the back of her mind telling her to wait for marriage. Wait
for someone who would love her forever.
She thought she would marry Michael. He
told her it was OK if she wanted to wait; he could be patient. What a damned
fool she had been. The frustration had been right there in his eyes. They
obviously had very different visions of what their futures held. Michael made
that perfect clear twenty four hours later when he took Trisha for a roll the
hay in his daddy’s barn.
She slammed her fist against the hard soil,
crying out in pain at the contact. How
could they do that to her? Trisha was supposed to be her best friend and
Michael was supposed to love her.
Momma had tried to warn her but Jennie was
young and in love and didn’t want to hear what her mother had to say about the
older, more experienced man that had been courting her only daughter.
The tears threatened again so Jennie forced
all thoughts of her broken heart from her mind. It was hot out, her heavy curls
were clinging to her face and neck and rivers of water ran down her back. Her
foot was sore but she needed to get out of the scorching Virginia sun and into
Momma’s cool kitchen with an even colder glass of lemonade. Dumping a little
water on her toe from the bottle she carried, Jennie pulled herself to her feet
and started walking again. The hot summer sun was beating down in full force,
another day in the hottest summer they had experienced in a decade. Air heavy
with humidity that never seemed to turn into rain was drying out the grasses
and gardens. They needed rain in the worst way.
How could her best friend betray her like
this? Michael—well he was a guy. Everyone knew they did stupid stuff but
girlfriends were supposed to stick together. Even way back in kindergarten as
they both rode the big yellow school bus for the first time, away from home and
into the unknown world of school Trisha had seemed like the sister she had
never had. Jennie was shy, reserved, terrified to leave her Momma even for a
few hours. As she sat, huddled in the corner of the huge green seat, hugging
her My Little Pony backpack to her
chest, Trisha Parker climbed the steps to the bus like she was walking the red
carpet in Hollywood. With a smile as bright as the neon pink bow in her long
blonde hair, Trisha plopped down in the seat next to Jennie and held out her
hand as she introduced herself. No, Trisha had never been afraid of
anything. Her friend Always jumped into
the water without testing it with a toe first. The other girl embraced all of
life with an excitement Jennie never understood. Trisha’s carefree ways were
often reckless, something else Jennie struggled with. While she herself
carefully weighed each decision, choosing the safest, most reliable path,
Trisha let loose without even considering that someone else might get hurt.
Jennie sighed against the hot, heavy air. She
was so over being hot and sweaty. Maybe the weather was what drove Michael and
Trisha into each other’s arms. Out in California they say the hot, dry Santa
Ana winds made people do strange things. Maybe the hot Virginia coastal winds
made people unable to control their sexual urges.
The weather had nothing to do with it. Jennie
wasn’t feeling any uncontrollable urges.
Michael and Trisha did what they wanted to because of that very reason-
they wanted to.
From behind her, she could hear the
familiar whine of her daddy’s old Ford pickup truck. It must have been later in the day than she
thought if Daddy was heading back from town all ready. Each day, promptly at
four thirty in the morning, before the rooster crowed and the cows started
braying, Daddy climbed into his worn out old truck with the failing engine and
drove into town for his shift at the factory. At one each afternoon, he drove
home to the family farm and worked until Momma called him in at sunset for
supper.
Jennie hated small town life almost as much
as she despised her ex-best friend and former boyfriend. She counted the days
until she could escape. College started in two weeks. She would hardly miss the
man she once thought she would marry.
Hardly at all.
Daddy’s old Ford stopped in a cloud of dust
beside her.
“What ya doin’, Jennie girl? It’s too hot to
be walkin’ this time a’day. Hop on up in here and I’ll get you home and in the
kitchen with a glass of your momma’s fresh lemonade in a jiffy.”
“Just walkin’ home from Trisha’s. Didn’t know
how late it was.”
“It’s not late, sweet pea. Just wasn’t
feelin' so great so the boss let me leave a coupla’ hours early.”
“Oh. O.K.” She climbed up into the old truck
and relaxed against the cracked vinyl of the bench seat as her daddy shifted the
gears. The truck lurched forward as the transmission squealed and then they
were on their way, lurching and heaving over the cratered dirt road.
They rode on in silence. It was nearly
impossible to carry on a conversation anyway as the engine roared and the truck
bumped and clumped along the road. Daddy always drove just a little faster than
he should. He enjoyed the challenge of dodging the craters and seeing just how
fast he could make it the mile from the main road to their front door. Jennie held on tight to the door handle as
she bounced up and down on the broken springs. Every rut caused a new shimmy or
shake in the truck’s frame, the shocks groaned and the cab rocked back and
forth almost precariously.
The open windows provided little relief from
the oppressive heat. There was no such thing as air conditioning the year John
Marshall bought his beloved Ford.
The front end of the truck crashed down hard
against the packed dirt sending Jennie flying forward. Daddy shot out an arm to
stop her from slamming into the windshield as he had done so many times before
as far back as she could remember.
“Sorry, sweet pea. Guess that dip got a
little deeper after the spring rains.”
It was what he always said when he hit that
spot a little too hard. If the spring rains had been responsible that dip would
be in the center of the Earth already. Sometimes he managed to make the jump
though. Those were the times when the old Ford’s worn tires would go air borne
over the deep drop in the road before slamming hard against the ground on the
other side. Those were the days he grinned like the young man he once was in a
Mustang fastback, street racing down back roads. In the space of a few moments
John Marshall reverted back to more than just a father and a husband and a
farmer. He became a man with a wild streak and a love of all things dangerous.
What would he have become if he hadn’t met
Elise Johnson twenty three years ago and fallen head over heels in love with
the farmer’s daughter?
Jennie took a deep breath and steeled
herself against the next set of dips and drops as the truck bounced her around
like a wet sneaker in the dryer. They were still a few hundred feet from the
driveway. Dusty sweat poured off of her forehead and ran off her arms and
legs.
Finally the bouncing stopped and the old
engine sputtered to a stop, emitting a loud bang and a purple plume of burned
oil. The frame shuddered and then the cab was eerily silent.
“Why don’t you get a new truck Daddy? Put
this one out of its misery already.”
Daddy chuckled as he patted the dash of
his old Ford lovingly. “She’s a classic, sweet pea. We been together a long
time, me and her. Longer even than me and your momma. You wouldn’t want me to
replace your momma just because she got a little old and creaky, now would
you?”
“Of course
not, Daddy! But Momma’s a person. This is just a truck. An old, broke down,
embarrassing truck!” Jennie pushed the heavy passenger door open with a loud
creak and jumped to the ground wincing slightly as her injured toe jarred on
contact.
“Shhhh… Jennie! She’ll hear you! I need her
in top form to keep this place runnin’!”
“For cryin’ out loud, Daddy! She’s a truck! An inanimate object! She doesn’t have feelings!”
Jennie stormed off up the worn wood steps of the front porch, shoving past her
mother who opened the door just as Jennie reached for it.
“Sorry, Momma!” She called over her
shoulder as she ran through the house and grabbed a glass of water. Her throat
was as dry as the old dirt road had been. As she gulped the ice cold fluid she
listened to her parents in the front room.
“What’s up with that girl?” Elise asked
her husband. “And, what are you doing home so early? Everything OK at the
factory?”
“Everything is fine. I was just feelin’ a
little under the weather. Boss said I could take a few hours to go home and
rest before I have to do the chores ‘round here.”
Elise frowned. “Should I call Doc Hansen?”
“Nah, I’m fine, Elise. Just need a little
rest.”
“Well, if you say so Johnny.” Momma looked
skeptical nonetheless. “Now, what’s up
with that daughter of ours?”
“Don’t rightly know but I suspect it has
somethin’ to do with that boy o’ hers. Found her kickin’ rocks up the lane
heading toward here. She seemed a bit outta sorts but she wouldn’t tell me a
thing. Just said she was headin’ home.”
“She spent the mornin’ at Trisha’s and was
supposed to go see that boy of hers at noon time. Been gone a week; thought she
would get in as much time with him as possible. Wasn’t expectin’ her home till
supper time, actually. It’s barely noon now. Maybe I should go out back and
talk to her.”
“Nah, leave her alone a bit. If she’s
nursin’ a broken heart, best to let her do it alone for a bit.”
“What makes you think she’s got a broken
heart, Johnny?”
“I heard a bit this morning in town about
Trisha and that boy spending some time together while Jennie was gone. You know
how fickle teenagers can be. That friend of hers, she be advertisin’ a whole
lot. Hard for a young man in his prime to resist.”
She
heard a loud thump as someone tripped and fell. Maybe she should have been more
worried when she heard the concern in Momma’s voice.
“You
sure you’re feelin’ all right Johnny?”
“I’m
fine, Elise. Just fine. I’ll catch a quick nap and be down ‘fore the evening
chores.”
