Page 15 of Lightning in a Mason Jar

“I’m afraid I have some bad news.” He tugged the brim of his uniform ball-cap. “It’s about Mrs. Abernathy.”

The air rushed from her lungs, from worryandguilt. She hadn’t thought of the woman and her child much at all once Martin texted that they were settled at the shelter.

“Come sit and tell me, please.” She motioned to the two rockers, quickly moving aside a crate of old towels. “What happened?”

Sitting, he swiped off his hat and rested it on his knee. “The police notified me this morning. I’m afraid Ian Abernathy located the shelter and waited outside for his wife. He attacked her”—he lifted a hand quickly—“but she’s alive.”

“And Cricket?” She sank into the rocker, thinking of the way the child had clutched the rag doll. The rush of the river in the distance echoed the roaring in her ears.

“The little girl was inside the shelter with the other children, so thankfully he wasn’t able to get to her,” he said, fidgeting with the cap on his knee. “It appears Abernathy had been staking out the place, and when Gia stepped outside for a breath of fresh air, he made his move.”

More of that guilt twisted her gut, along with a hefty dose of fear. “How bad is it? I know you said she’s alive, but you wouldn’t be here unless it was really bad.”

“Gia’s in the hospital. Broken ribs. Fractured eye socket. Extensive bruising,” he detailed, his voice low and professional. Only the tic in the corner of one eye hinted at a deeper frustration. “There were two witnesses, but Abernathy got away before the police arrived.”

Bile burned her throat. She understood all too well what the kid must be feeling, the confusion of being displaced from everything familiar, even if the familiar had been dangerous.

“Where’s Cricket?”

“For now, Cricket is with the shelter’s childcare. A social worker will be taking over soon, though.”

The relief lasted for only one long exhale. She couldn’t shake the sense this was her fault. Her problem to fix. “I have to do something. She came to me for help, and I just ...”

“And you offered her more than her own family managed.”

At any other time she might have appreciated the praise from someone who’d judged her rule breaking with his ticket book. Not today, though.

“Except what I did wasn’t enough.” She gripped the arms of the rocker. Clearly, Gia had expected Winnie to help. “I know Aunt Winnie would have found a way to do more.”

“It’s in the hands of the authorities now.” He slid his hat from his knee back onto his head.

“That doesn’t mean I can just look away. Wait here.” She bolted to her feet and into the house.

“What are you doing?” He trailed, hovering in the doorway.

“Putting together some things for her to have at the hospital.” She grabbed an oversize canvas tote from a hook by the door, one of Winnie’s bags, then continued on to the kitchen, opening cabinets for snacks. Granola bars. A jar of nuts. “She needs to know someone cares, even a stranger. Maybe there’s something more I can do after all. I’ll never know if I don’t try.”

Next, she dug through a box markeddonateon the sofa, sifting and sorting. Socks. Slippers. A gently used jogging suit. A zipper pouch with hotel toiletries.

“Bailey Rae, hold on.” Martin rested a gentle but firm hand on her arm. “I’m sure the hospital’s counseling staff will connect Gia with services for her and her daughter once she’s released—”

“Yet look where she is now.” Standing, she hitched the stuffed bag onto her shoulder and met him nose to nose. The woman’s words about the pain of loving the wrong man haunted her. “I know they did theirbest and this isn’t the shelter’s fault. But something different has to be done or who knows what will happen next?”

Would Winnie be disappointed in her for not doing more at the outset?

“Inserting yourself into a domestic-violence situation can be dangerous.” He planted his feet as if blocking the doorway would make a difference.

“I’m well aware.” She wasn’t backing down. This was too personal.

Their standoff lasted for at least a half dozen heartbeats. Long enough for her to catch a whiff of his earthy scent. She tightened her grip on the bag. Skeeter nosed open the screened door, which closed after him with a slam that broke the spell.

“Fine. But I’m driving you,” Martin said, sighing in exasperation. “While you finish with whatever you’re packing, I’ll get the air conditioner running in the truck.”

Chapter Five

2025

Window down, Bailey Rae drew in deep breaths scented with evergreens and marsh as Martin drove. Yet she was still shaking inside, for both Gia and Cricket. She hated thinking about what that woman and her daughter had been through in the past twenty-four hours.

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