Free Christmas Cake by Lynne Hinton

hungry.”
    Charlotte nodded. “Well, that’s fine. But we do have some cake that someone made. I think it has fruit in it, creamy, very tasty. Maybe you’ll like a piece later.”
    Rachel nodded in reply. She raised her eyes only enough to glance around the room.
    â€œIs New Mexico your home, or did you move here from somewhere else?” Charlotte didn’t want to ask too many questions to begin, but she thought some conversation might help ease the tension for the young woman.
    â€œI’m from Texas.” She hesitated. “I lived in Childress with my grandmother.”
    Charlotte nodded. She wasn’t sure what to ask next. She thought about, How did you get to Gallup and get tangled up in a violent relationship when you are so young? or How did you end up with bruises on your face and walking on crutches and moving to a women’s shelter? Andyet she knew that wasn’t really the best way to begin a relationship. She knew that Rachel’s story would eventually come out. Charlotte was sure that once their newest client became comfortable in her surroundings, she would open up a little more.
    â€œWell, why don’t I round up some of the others so that you can meet your housemates?” Charlotte asked, sounding as cheerful as she was able.
    Rachel dropped her face again, and Charlotte got up and headed toward the back of the house. She found Maria, Loretta, and Loretta’s youngest child in the rear bedroom. Sophia and Victoria were still working in the yard. She found Tempest on the phone in the kitchen. She gathered them all to tell them about Rachel and then asked them to join her in the introductions. She knew that Peggy, Lucille, and Anita were working and would meet their newest roommate at dinner.
    The group of women walked into the living area and stood around Rachel. Each of them introduced themselves while Charlotte went into the bedroom that was being set up for Rachel. She saw the blowup mattress on the floor and knew it was a terrible way to offer hospitality to someone looking for shelter.
    She walked back to the living room and motioned for Loretta. When she explained the situation, the mother of three was more than willing to help. Loretta would have one of her children sleep on the mattress and give the cot to the young woman.
    Together the two women fixed the situation, and by the time Rachel was escorted to the room she would share with Sophia and Anita and Lucille, the middle bedroom, it looked as if they had been expecting her for weeks. The cot was situated in the corner with the other three single beds lined up beside it. It was tight conditions but it was certainly not unbearable.
    After showing her around the house and the yard, the women left Rachel alone in the room to settle and to rest. Charlotte watched as they gathered in her office near the kitchen.
    â€œHow does somebody so young get beat up so bad?” Maria asked. She was in her sixties and had been volunteering at St. Mary’s for almost three years. Her daughter had died from domestic violence, and she had vowed to work on her behalf, to help others who suffered the way her daughter and grandchildren had suffered.
    â€œDon’t she have family?” Loretta asked. “Is she even sixteen?” She was holding her baby in her arms.
    â€œI think she’s nineteen,” Charlotte replied. “And no, I don’t think there’s any family. I’m sure she’ll tell us about herself later.”
    â€œThis a cruel world for a girl,” Sophia noted, shaking her head. She had been in the shelter only a couple of weeks, but her injuries had not been quite as severe as Rachel’s. She was one of the lucky ones.
    There had been only one attack by her husband of five years. There had been several hard blows, directly across the face, but she had left him after that first time. Most women waited until there were three or four violent episodes. They didn’t