Cowboy Comes Home

Lorna caught her breath but still didn’t say anything. Her look was one of painful yearning in the instant before she averted her face. Silence reigned for several minutes.

Finally Anna spoke. “I talked to Mary Jo last night. She’s worried sick about you.”

Lorna nodded but didn’t reply.

“Killing yourself isn’t the answer, either, Lorna.

Honey, you’ve got to trust one of us enough to tell us what’s wrong. We can’t help you if you don’t tell us.”

“I can’t. I can’t.”

“Of course you can. Don’t you see?

Nobody can hurt you anymore if you just tell us what’s wrong. I’ll protect you. Sheriff Tate and the judge will protect you. Nobody will ever lay another finger on you.”

“You don’t know. You can’t promise that.”

“Yes, I can. And I’m promising it right now. But we can’t do anything unless we know what’s going on.”

Lorna kept her head down and didn’t answer.

Anna rose and went to the window, searching for the courage to bare her soul. The words didn’t want to come. They lodged in her throat, stuck like glue. She dug her nails into her palms, then forced the words out past lips that felt like wood.

“Mary Jo said you sleep with a plumber’s wrench under your bed.”

“So?”

“I used to sleep with a hammer under mine.”

She heard Lorna gasp, and part of her wanted to go to the girl and wrap her up in a tight hug. But she couldn’t move. She kept staring out at the alley and the gray day. A solitary snowflake drifted down and vanished on the ice below.

“I know what’s going on, Lorna. But I need you to tell me yourself. Nobody can do anything if you don’t tell us yourself.”

The girl sounded breathless. “You…you could be wrong.”

“I’m not wrong. I slept with a hammer under my bed for too long to be wrong. I ran away from home and lived on the streets. I’ve been there, Lorna. I’m not wrong.”

“You…you promise…you won’t tell anybody?”

Anna hesitated. She needed Lorna to tell the sheriff or the judge about this. On the other hand, the first and most difficult step was getting Lorna to speak about it at all. One step at a time.

“I promise,” she said, and turned to look at the girl.

“I won’t tell unless you say it’s okay. But you’d better tell somebody fast, before that man leaves town and takes your sister with him.”