Bloom

By Cathy Jackson

Charles Swartz was abusive and demanding. He ruled my life with a leather strap and harsh words. The physical and mental abuse I suffered at his hands made me hate and fear him.
Death would be the only thing that could release me from our marriage.
John Westerling is caring and thoughtful. He treats me as his equal and his encouragement builds me up. His displays of patience and love to everyone around draws my heart to him.
Can the love we are finding together stand against a woman from his past who threatens to tear us apart and destroy all that we are working to achieve? Will I be able to trust again after being married to a tyrant?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cathy Jackson
• Release date: Nov 29, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311655868

Cathy Jackson

Stunningly beautiful and staggeringly intelligent mid-western mother of four writing everything from science fiction to generational epic historical dramas and anything in between.

Book preview

Bloom

By Cathy Jackson

Copyright 2014 Cathy Jackson

Published by Cathy Jackson at Smashwords

Edited by Jennifer Harshman, Harshman Services

Cover design by Matthew Jackson

License Notes

Thank you for purchasing this book. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed in whole or part to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes without the express written permission of the author. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to purchase their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer.

Thank you for your support.

This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, or events are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, places or events is unintentional and coincidental.

Acknowledgements

I want to thank GOD. Without Him, this story wouldn’t be. I thank Him for teaching me and leading me every day.

Matthew Jackson, you are my heart and my life. Your encouragement has brought this book to life. Thank you for being my husband.

Connor, Ian, Jessa and Joseph, you are all my lights. I am so happy that each of you have been placed in my life. I love you all very much.

Jennifer Harshman of Harshman Services. I cannot express my gratitude. You continue to take a chance on me.

Opal Campbell, Videos by O. Your video graphics of Bloom are more than I could ever ask for. Thank you for all that you do!

John Wells. Thank you for being the face of John Westerling. My truest and most sincere thanks to you.

Robin Mayberry and Jaclyn Chaney. Thank you for stepping in with some last minute edits.

Becky Asher, Kimberlie L. Faye, Katie Boettcher Vaughan & Others: Thanks you for all of the information on Renaissance faires!

Authors and Bloggers, your acceptance of who I am and what I write make you all golden in my book. I truly am thankful for each and every one of you.

Reader, this book has been a labor of love that I hope will encourage and inspire you. You are the ones who will make this book more than what I could ever make of it myself.

For Mom…

Chapter 1

Late April in the Midwest isn’t so bad. The last vestige of winter was gone and new green grass was pushing its way through the earth. Ready to be outside, I had made the trek to my local home improvement store and bought a rose bush.

I probably should have done more research on roses but I wanted the flower bush. Something in my life had to be beautiful and it was going to be this. Red roses were my mother’s favorite and I wanted something to remember her by. This was going to happen no matter how I had to do it.

The shovel hit the ground again and I scraped at the dirt. My other hand wiped back the tears and I tossed the dirt into the small pile. Was the hole deep enough? Standing my hand up in it, I measured. The ground came to my wrist. That should be deep enough, right?

Taking the rosebush out of the pot, I laid it in the hole and sighed. No, it wasn’t deep enough. Great!

The sound of a vehicle passing the house barely registered as I put the rosebush back in the pot. Deeper I go.

This hole was becoming like my marriage to my husband, Charles.

***

Charles was average height and intelligent. His sandy blonde hair and light blue eyes were a devastating combination. He is strong and resourceful. Our love affair didn’t last long and before I knew it we were standing before the justice of the peace being married. The thought of being Mrs. Charles Swartz was both thrilling and exciting.

Charles was the most polite, most handsome, most intelligent man I ever knew. When I met him I was head over heels in love. I was done with other men. Charles was the one.

Our honeymoon would be somewhere tropical, Charles promised. He had already booked everything and it was all set up. Everything already taken care of. All I had to do was say I do and I would be whisked away to an adventure of a lifetime.

Sadly the honeymoon consisted of a few short unprepared moments in the back of the limo on the way to his home. I wasn’t ready but he was.

Even though Charles was the second man I had been physically intimate with I wanted this to be different. I was used to the pain and the discomfort for days after. There had never been a gentle lover for me. It looked like there never would be.

Pulling down my wedding dress, I felt the car stop. Trying not to cry, I saw Charles open the door and stand, adjusting his clothing. It took less than a few seconds.

Get out of the car.

His cold words surprised me and I sat in the car staring at him. What happened to the man I had dated?

The hand reaching for me from my newly married husband clasped my wrist painfully and I was dragged from the car. I tried to catch myself before my knees hit the pavement.

Get the bags. I’ll be inside.

Taking off I was left outside. The limo driver looked at me sadly and I stood there staring at Charles’ retreating back. Before he opened the front door of his beautiful home, I saw him stop.

You don’t want to see how I will punish you when you don’t do what I want, Phoenix. Now move.

Snapping to attention, I made my way to the back and the limo driver opened the trunk.

Let me help you, ma’am. He picked up the bags and moved them into the house setting them down.

I didn’t tell you to help my wife! Charles was angry. I’m calling your company. You won’t be paid for this.

But you’ve already paid for the service… The driver cast another pitiful sideways glance to me.

When I tell my wife to do something she needs to learn to do it. Not have some boy carry her things. Do you want to sleep with her too?

No, sir…

Out! I’ll be in touch with your company. Charles turned from him and walked through the front door.

Close it.

What was happening? Why was it wrong that the driver carry the things? It would have taken several trips by myself. The bags were packed for a getaway and I had not packed light.

Charles turned to me with his fists balled. I said close it!

The… the door? I couldn’t help myself. The man in front of me was not the man I had dated.

Yes, simpleton, now close the front door. He moved to another room while I shut the door quietly. Just like that Charles was back with a leather strap in his hand.

I’m going to teach you to obey your husband.

My eyes were glued to the strap as he walked toward me. His presence was menacing. What do you mean?

I mean you are going to learn what I want before I want it. You are going to learn that you live to serve me. What I want comes before what you want. He raised the strap above his head. And your training starts today.

Turning I felt the strap hit my back and heard a tearing sound. The pain in my back brought me to my knees and I cried out.

Lesson one, you live for me. Do you understand? The strap hit me again and I cried out.

***

The sound of an ignition turning off snapped me out of my musings. I looked up and saw a man climb out his truck. He looked a little miffed. His eyes were on the ground and then looked into mine as he walked toward me. His back was straight and the soft crème linen shirt unbuttoned at the top two buttons did nothing to hide the cords of muscles under it. His waist was tucked and his thighs were huge and solid. My eyes slid to the ground. Charles’ conditioning was perfect.

Hi. I was just driving by. My name is John Westerling. I’m a landscaper and I was wondering if I could help you with your yard.

Stealing a glance to him, I watched the ground again and swallowed.

Speak when spoken to, Charles’ words rang perfectly through my mind. My…my name is Phoenix.

Phoenix? The phoenix was a unique bird that lived in the Arabian Desert. It would burn itself on a funeral pyre and rise from the ashes with renewed youth to live through another cycle. Reborn.

I gasped. Was I like that? There would be no rising from the ashes for me. I closed my eyes, afraid of this man in front of me.

I thought you might like a hand planting your rosebush. His tone was softening but I wouldn’t be fooled. I had been here too many times with Charles.

A tear threatened as I listened and I held my breath.

Would you like a hand? A coaxing sound in his voice had my head nodding but I still didn’t look at him.

It really is a beautiful bush. Hearing him move, I did too. Charles had a certain distance he wanted me from him and I had to maintain that wherever I was.

A silence and I could hear the noises of midday April. Birds singing, very light traffic as the road in front of my house was rarely traveled, somewhere people talked and I could hear it faintly.

Compost. My eyes snapped to his and I saw his back retreating to his truck. A large sack labeled lawn compost came to his shoulder. It looked heavy but he carried it as if it didn’t weigh anything. When he approached me, I dropped my head again. The hole needs to be deeper…

Reaching for the shovel, I felt another hand brush mine. I cried out quietly. The punishment would be swift and I winced.

Are you alright? John’s voice was soft and careful. This was another man, not Charles.

"I... I didn’t mean to…" Don’t cry. He may not hurt you. Maybe. You said the hole needed to be deeper so I was going to shovel it.

The ground is sandy and rocky soil. I saw his tan hand pick up the shovel and I heard the plunge of the shovel into the earth. The same earth I had spent the last hour trying to dig into. When the shovel came up the hole was twice the size I had made it. Hard earth is often hard to get through. Break up your unplowed ground and do not sow among thorns.

What? Something about his last words caught my attention but I didn’t know why. I caught myself watching him.

John looked up and the sun shone behind him causing his whole body to halo. His light colored eyes were soft but he was concentrating. It’s just something I heard somewhere. This ground is unyielding and it made me think of it.

Going back to digging a deep hole, my eyes dropped back to it. Sorry.

For what? The curiosity in his voice had me flinching. I liked the timbre of his tone but I had misstepped.

Speaking when I…. I closed my eyes. He wasn’t Charles. Maybe he was okay to be spoken to without speaking first.

Phoenix, right? He already knew it was. I could tell by his tone. This will go by much faster with conversation. Have you lived here long?

Five... five years. The hole was getting deeper as I spoke. With my husband, Charles.

Charles. Nice name. It’s from the Germanic name Karl, which was derived from a Germanic word meaning man. It could also come from the common Germanic element hari meaning army, warrior.

My eyes flew to him and I gasped softly. How did he know that? I could see Charles meaning warrior. He certainly proved that enough with me.

What is it? The shovel stopped and I shook my head. Out of my peripheral I could see him leaning against the shovel.

Nothing. Sighing, I stood up straighter. Thank you but I think I can do this. Don’t move toward him and take the shovel until he offers.

I think the hole is deep enough. You could help with the compost but it gets pretty stinky.

Compost? He was the landscape artist. Maybe the ground needed it. But I would help. It was my yard and he was planting my rosebush in it. I’ll just get a pair of gloves….

His hand on my shoulder had me pulling away. No! Wait. I was in my yard and not in the house. Charles did all of his disciplining in the house away from prying eyes. I cleared my throat. Sorry, I… Social interaction and I did not mix.

A pair of gloves appeared before my vison. I thought you might want these if you would like to help. I didn’t mean to frighten you.

Looking up I saw him watching me intently. He was seeing too much, I could sense it. I wasn’t frightened. Glancing up to him, I saw him still watching me patiently holding out the gloves. I took them careful not to touch him. I was just surprised, that’s all.

I followed him over the sack and watched as he bent down to open it. Do you need a…

There was no hole in it already as it was a new sack. He took the end so tightly shut and pulled it apart like it was a sheet of paper. Those hands could do damage. I took a step back from him.

I told you it smelled bad. The laughing smile in his voice brought my eyes back to him. How could he be so happy about manure? I can do this.

No. He had scooped the shovel into the bag and was now watching me as he held it. I can do this. I just didn’t know I needed this. Gesturing to the bag, I looked to him again. I can pay for the bag and your time. The petty cash in the house should cover what he would charge. Charles insisted I keep it in case someone came to the door and needed cash.

John looked me over. It wasn’t an appreciative glance but it did have me standing straighter. This one is on me. I had to stop and do this for you.

My eyebrows furrowed. What does that mean?

He shook his head as he leveled the shovelful into the hole. I just do as I am told and I was told to help you plant this bush.

Do as you’re… I moved over by him and held out my hands for the shovel. Is your boss demanding like that?

The grey eyes that reminded me of brushed grey fleece met mine. He is a good… man and he is just. I do what he asks of me because of our relationship. Not because he commands me to do it. I do it because he asks.

New concept for me. I was used to doing what I was told out of fear and not… You love your boss?

Handing me the shovel, I saw him get to his knees over the hole. We both had gloves on now and he began leveling out the compost in the hole. I guess you could say that. Yes. He has never steered me wrong. He’s fair so I can’t not respect that.

Picking up the shovel, I scooped more compost and held it over the hole. You’re a very lucky man to have such a fair boss. Some people are not that lucky.

Moving back his hands, he sat back and looked at me. I take it your boss isn’t that fair or good to his workers? You can dump it.

The house caught my attention and I winced. You could say that. Dumping the shovel into the hole, I saw John watch me for a moment and then go back to doing something in it.

Have you thought about changing positions?

What do you mean? Take the upper hand with Charles? Been there and I had the scars to prove he was much stronger than I.

Changing jobs. There are plenty of them out there. You just have to look. Standing, he watched me for a minute. The ground became my focus. I couldn’t leave Charles. Some jobs just can’t be left. Devotion to one’s… position… still exists and even though I don’t like it sometimes it’s what I do and I can’t leave it.

Can’t or won’t? The rosebush was unpotted and John moved it into the hole. More please.

I looked at him and then grabbed another shovel full. Please? Charles never said that. Can’t. It’s not who I am. Leaving is not me. Scooping another shovel full I saw it hit around the hole.

Another shovelful should do it. Really dig deep into the bag. You can do it.

The shovel went back into the bag and I grunted with the pushing into it. I wanted a large shovelful to show John I could do this. His encouragement made me feel stronger. Dumping the heaping shovelful into the hole, he sat about working on it. That’s perfect, Phoenix. I knew you could do it.

Glowing this time under his encouragement, I smiled. It had been so long since I remembered doing so. I watched John move the stuff around and then stand. He watched me for a moment and then a slow smile crossed his face. My eyes watched his and then dropped along with my smile.

May I? Gloves from his hand came to the ground and he held out his hand.

I passed the shovel to him and stood back. Not enough space was between us as somehow I had moved closer to him without realizing it. The thought to apologize passed through my brain but I dismissed it.

Shouldn’t be too much longer. I just need to finish up around the plant. Do you have a garden hose? We need to water what we have planted. It will need the water in this thirsty ground.

Yes. I tossed my gloves on the ground beside his and made my way to the side of the house. Turning on the water, I saw John seal the sack and put it over his shoulder effortlessly. He carried it to his truck and set it inside gently. The gloves went to the truck as I carried the hose back to the newly planted rosebush.

It looks beautiful, Mr. Westerling. Holding the hose in my hand, I looked to him and saw him watching me.

So many things are made to be adored. Roses are another creation made to be admired.

I blushed and then frowned. No one admired me. How much water…

If I may? His hand came out and I handed it to him. When his hand brushed mine, I looked to him and saw him watching me. The water…

Stepping back I listened to him speak but wasn’t really paying attention. There was something about this man who had to stop in my yard but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

So if you water it every couple of days and add food, it should flourish. I think we have done a good job with this particular bush.

Nodding my head, I couldn’t take my eyes off of the first beautiful thing in my life since my marriage began. Thank you.

It was my pleasure. I am glad I stopped. His hand moving and I saw a card appear in front of me. I took it and looked at it. His name, address, telephone number and email were on it. If you have any other landscaping projects, please don’t hesitate to call.

I really should pay you something for doing this. My eyes met his. Not that I couldn’t do this myself but the help is appreciated. I did so many things on my own that to have someone beside me working alongside me was nice.

I told you it was my treat. He winked at me and I stepped backwards. Next time we’ll discuss payment. His voice was light and happy as he moved to his truck

Stupidly holding the card in my hand, I watched as he closed the tail gate on his truck. Thank you for allowing me to do this with you. I look forward to helping you again soon. He climbed into his truck and took off. Once again a determined look on his face as he moved out into the street.

Looking down at the card again, I slipped it into my pocket. I would do all the research I could on making this rosebush blossom. For now I just wanted to sit and watch it.

Sitting down I stroked the rose buds and leaves, feeling the silkiness against my hand. It was the most gorgeous thing I had ever seen and it was mine. I would cherish and care for this as long as I could.

The smile on my face came instantly and I laughed. It surprised me. I had not laughed in so long. The feeling of seeing this rosebush planted in the yard for all to see made me so happy. Looking to where the truck disappeared, I smiled wider.

Thank you, John.

Chapter 2

The rosebush was worth it, I thought as the back of Charles’ hand connected with me. I knew it would bruise but I wanted the roses. He had been so mad. I was cooking his favorite dinner hoping it would temper his anger when he saw it.

I didn’t tell you to do that! He had been brutalizing me for about an hour, calling me every name in the book but still I stood. You didn’t ask me.

I’m sorry! I wasn’t. Not really. I wanted the rosebush so I planted it without his permission. I knew there would be consequences. I should have asked.

Everything goes through me. You are nothing. Just my wife. Another slap had me flying backwards and hitting the table. I held my side and tried not to show the pain he was inflicting on me. In truth, it was getting harder.

I thought you would like a beautiful front yard to come home to. That it would make you look better to your peers when they came for a visit. I didn’t see the hand coming at me but I did feel it as it grasped me. There would be bruises that could be easily covered.

Thinking again. What have I told you about that?

Not to. I am so sorry I didn’t ask. My knees gave and the pain in my side sharpened. I’m sorry.

The hand came at me again and stopped. He looked at me hatefully but I could see that he was thinking. One rose was a stupid idea. You need two.

Almost sagging from relief, I saw his hand fly and pain cried out again.

Two! I want two. One on each side. They have to match. You will plant that one exactly like the one you planted today. Do you understand me?

Yes, Charles. I should have anticipated that for you. I am so sorry. The table held me up as pain shot through me.

Tomorrow. I want it done tomorrow. I’ll be leaving in the morning and I want you to send me pictures by cell and I want them no later than tomorrow afternoon. Do you understand?

His cold, hard eyes looked at me and I flinched. Another beating was coming if I didn’t obey him. Yes, Charles.

I want my dinner. Now. He sat down at the table and I made my way over to the stove. The fried chicken, green beans with bacon, buttered corn and mashed potatoes with gravy was fixed the way he wanted. The biscuits were miraculously still warm in the oven.

Setting his place at the table, I grabbed his bottle of whiskey out of the cabinet and set the glass beside him filling it two fingers full. His plate was in front of him made exactly the way he wanted.

Is the pie ready? Charles began eating as he spoke. After taking a bite he swallowed the whiskey and looked to me.

Yes. It is done. I refilled his glass and glanced to the pie that I knew was cool but still warm from the baking. He was unpredictable sober, drunk he was downright dangerous.

Charles finished his dinner and most of his whiskey. Cutting a piece of pumpkin pie, I slid it onto a plate and set it in front of him. He wasn’t sober anymore and I moved as fast as I could from him.

Once he was finished eating, he stumbled to the front door. I’m… going…. out. The words were severely slurred but I didn’t stop him. I had tried that before and got a beating for it. My eyes went to the floor. House. Clean. When… I get back. Don’t…go into... my room.

I nodded my head. Yes.

The front door slammed and I sagged in relief. Eating a light dinner, I cleaned the entire kitchen and then the house. Not that it needed it, but I had to do it. Charles demanded it.

Showering, checking my bruises, and lying down completely dressed for bed, I waited for Charles’ return. I must have dozed because the sound of my