Crimson Highway by David Wickenhauser (brene brown rising strong TXT) 📗

useful, and she appreciated Martha including her in on lunch preparations. They didn’t get a chance to talk about what had been happening the past week, but Martha promised Jenny that after lunch they’d find a chore that they could do together that would give them a chance to talk.

When Hugh, Sr., and Roly drove up to the house in their old pickup truck, preparations kicked into high gear as Martha and Jenny served up cold fried chicken, potato salad, fresh greens and tomatoes from the garden, and lemonade from freshly squeezed lemons.

Martha called Mary down from her room where she had been studying all morning, and they all sat down to lunch. Hugh, Sr., said the blessing, of course.

Conversation revolved around ranch topics, with an occasional question coming Jenny’s way about her day so far. What did she think of the ranch? Did she enjoy driving the pink monstrosity? Things like that.

It was all very comfortable, friendly and homey.

After lunch, Jenny helped Martha clean up, while Mary ran out to quickly do her middle-of-the-day chores before escaping back up to her room to study.

“How are you at weeding garden?” Martha asked Jenny when the last clean dish had been put away.

“I’ve gardened before,” Jenny answered. “Is that what we’re going to do this afternoon?”

“Sure. And while we are doing that we can chat,” Martha replied.

 Martha and Jenny found places to work in the garden near each other.

“OK, Jenny, what is it you’d like to tell me about what had happened between you and Hugh?”

Jenny had already made up her mind to tell this kind lady everything, so she began her story from the very beginning, sparing nothing. She was even able to fill in the spots that she hadn’t known about until very recently when she had overheard Hugh’s conversation with James at the Bakersfield truck stop.

Martha listened patiently, giving Jenny a chance to tell her story without interruptions. Her intuition told her that Jenny needed to get a lot off her chest.

Only when Jenny stopped talking after telling how she had run away from Hugh at that truck stop did Martha say something.

“And … ?” Martha asked, indicating for Jenny to go on.

“Martha, I don’t know if I can go on,” Jenny replied, tears starting to well in her eyes. “I really, really hurt Hugh … almost got him killed.”

She saw Martha stiffen at that. Jenny had told her enough about her uncle’s hatred for all truck drivers, and especially now for Hugh, that she knew that Martha suspected something really awful was coming next.

“Jenny,” Martha said kindly. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But, I think you do want to, and need to. So, take a minute to get yourself together, and then go on.”

Jenny nodded.

They pulled weeds together silently for a while, and then Jenny continued where she had left off.

“After I ran out of the truck stop I didn’t know what to do. I was so torn up inside. Shocked. Stunned. Devastated. Angry. Whoo, boy, was I angry. I felt so betrayed.”

Jenny had to stop talking for awhile in order to regain her composure again.

“Outside, I called my uncle and told him what I had just found out. He said to walk to the main street, and he would come by right away to pick me up.

“When he found me, he had already worked out the beginning of a plan. He asked me for my phone. When I gave it to him, he brought up an app, and then asked me where Hugh’s truck was.

“We drove around to the part of the lot where it was parked. My uncle got out, and placed my phone inside a little swing-down door thing just above the top step on the driver’s side.

“After that, my uncle drove me home,” Jenny concluded.

“After everything that had happened, like him putting a gun to your head, how was your uncle treating you?” Martha asked.

“That’s the weird thing,” Jenny answered. “He was acting all nice and friendly. I was careful about what I would say, ’cause I didn’t want to set him off. I had no idea what I was going to do, but for the time being I had nowhere else to go.”

“Then, what happened?” Martha asked.

“The next day, my uncle and his two buddies got all excited, and said, ‘Come on, we’re going.’ So, we drove up north to a town called Tracy. We spent the night in a motel, and early the next morning, all of a sudden, we’re following Hugh’s truck, which was being followed by a blue car, an escort car because it was a high-value load, my uncle said.”

Jenny then told the story about following the escort car into the rest area, pulling the two guys out, taking their cell phones and jackets, tying them up and taking off in their car.

“Martha, I didn’t know that they planned to kill Hugh. I swear, and promise,” Jenny said. “But, that’s what the plan was. So, when I learned that, I freed Hugh, and we got away from my uncle and his buddies.”

Martha sensed that Jenny was holding back on something. “And then what happened?”

Jenny gulped. Then she went on. “It was awful, Martha. Hugh killed one of my uncle’s buddies … almost decapitated him.”

“Jenny, I’m the mother of a former combat Marine. He’s been trained that way. He’s survived because he’s good at taking care of himself. I don’t know any of the details of his combat experiences, but I’m willing to bet that his fights with your uncle and his buddies were mild compared to what he had been through before that.”

“You mean, you don’t hate me now?” Jenny asked, adding, “I am so sorry for what I did, and I would never, ever do anything