“Probably a cat,” said Mike noticing her tense and offering his arm as comfort. He rushed her up the first landing of stairs and gave her a sisterly peck on the cheek, thanking her again for the party. Like lodestone he hurried back to Rosie as fast as his legs could carry him.
Hannah laughed at his urgency, waving as the two lovebirds drove away. She hurried up the last short bank of stairs. She dug for the key in her purse and finally reached the door only to drop it. Cursing, she bent to scoop it up when she noticed a shadow and jumped up.
As if out of thin air, coat flapping, face obscured by the shadows, a man stood there, his piercing stare spearing her into place. She clutched her chest as if she could stop the erratic beat of her heart. Unable to do anything but gape, she stared back at him openmouthed. She was completely and irrevocably dumbfounded and had the fleeting thought that this couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not here.
His voice was as mocking as it was painfully familiar. “Now, ain’t this just a big ol’ surprise? I’ll be danged if I ain’t finally found Miz Jezebel herself. Hello there, Hannah-girl.”
She gasped and fainted dead away.
Ray caught her. He gently slapped her face. Her silken skin made him tremble with emotions he’d thought long settled. Her face was thinner, her cheekbones more defined. She was dressed like a modern girl, face and nails painted floozy red, clothing far too revealing. Her painted lips were pinker, fuller. Her hair was still spun gold, only now artfully bobbed, netted with tiny gemstones that winked, mocking him for a fool in the moonlight. Still a beauty, yet it was apparent she was no longer the girl she’d been. She’d haunted him since she’d run away more than two years ago, but time wrought changes. He barely recognized her. As if on cue, her eyelids began to flutter. He watched as they opened and focused. “Ray?”
“Yep, it’s me.”
“What…” Her whisper conveyed her shock. She was lying on the ground. Ray was hovering over her. Memories came back pecking like crows on a dead animal. The good ones and the bad. “What are you doing here?”
“Did you think I’d just up and forget you, darlin’?”
“When did you…how…did you find me?”
“That Anderson boy. Didn’t want to say, but your ma got him to admit you were living in Kansas City. I took the train here, started asking questions. Just when I was about to give up, luck came my way. I was playing cards and met some fancy fella named Boots.”
“Boots…you mean…Booth?” She sat up, tried to still her shaking limbs.
He nodded. “Said he knew a gal with hair the color of yours and the same name though he reckoned she was older and spelled her name with an h at the end. Said he managed…that true you were singing at some fancy hotel?”
She nodded. Ray was as handsome as she remembered him to be and obviously sober.
He helped her to her feet.
“How’s Mama?”
“She’s fine, no thanks to you running off with no word for neigh on two years.”
“You know why I left.” Anger gave her words bite. His disapproving frown hurt
“I admit I was a weak fool, but there are limits to what I’ll take even from you, girl.”
Her chin rose with her anger. “Limits, you say? What limits did you have when you raped me? You took more than my innocence that night, Ray.” To her dismay, her voice wavered on an almost sob. She quickly looked away.
He wanted to say that he hadn’t meant to hurt her. He wanted to tell her how he’d woke lying in his own puke, his face in the dirt in the middle of the afternoon. How he’d been so skunked he’d blacked out. How his memory had been as shaky as his legs, but when the pieces started coming back, he’d been sick, sicker than he’d ever remembered being. He’d prayed it was only a nightmare, but he couldn’t deny the truth when he saw the blood, dry and crusted on her discarded dress and his sex.
He wanted to tell her how he’d picked up the tattered dress and bunching it to his chest had collapsed to the ground convulsing with sobs and howling his agony to the winds for hours, but instead he lashed out. “You weren’t entirely blameless. I well know my sin in taking by force what I tried to deny and my unholy lust for you was very wrong. The farm, work and drinking was my only solace that first eighteen months. I reckon I deserve your anger, even expected it, but…I regret what happened− losing you…I curbed my drinking since.”
“Ha. Do you regret all the things that changed before that, makin’ me quit school, watching over me like a hawk, being so mean?” The heat inside her flared. “You didn’t want me, but you sure as hell didn’t want anyone else to have me either.”
“That’s not true. The problem was that I did want you.”
“Well, you wanted your precious farm and Mama more.”
“Damn, Han, you know damned well it’s all about the land for me. You know why we got hitched. I…I tried to do the right thing by you.” How could he explain how hard he’d fought to banish the inappropriate feelings he had for her—a mere child. That he’d come hoping to make things right.
Tears filled her eyes. She worked at blinking them back. She didn’t want him here, but knew he hadn’t come all this way to leave without something. “What do you want?”
“We have business to settle, you and me.”
She bit her lip, hedged. “I can’t invite you in. I have a roommate.”
“Well, surely your roommate can’t object to a visit with family—your Pa?”
“You aren’t my Pa,” she said with indignation, but pushed open the door.
Ray followed her into the building in silence. “Who was that fella?”
“Just a fella.” She knew he meant Mike.
“Know lots of fellas, do you?”
“Hundreds…thousands.” She sounded blasé, wanting to hurt him. Evidently he hadn’t noticed Rosie waiting in the car. “So, it was you, spying on me? I would have kissed him silly had I known that.”
He looked as if she’d slapped him. “I wasn’t spying. I got here earlier, spoke to one of your neighbors and was just waiting to see if it was you lived here. You don’t have any name on your mailbox.”
“What if I hadn’t come home tonight?”
“Make a habit of that too now, eh?” Ray’s anger rose. “Sounds like your ma was right worrying you’d come to no good. Dressing like some kind of floozy, working in a saloon. Mayhaps I did ya a favor after all?”
“Not a saloon, a nightclub and I’m singing. That’s all, Ray. Singing. No shame in that is there?” Hannah bristled defensively as she led him into the apartment, turning on lights. “In fact, I’m proud of myself for surviving as well as I have, no thanks to you.”
“I don’t see no roommate?” He sauntered in behind her, his doubts hanging heavy as soot between them.
Her emotions were all over the place; fear, anger, pain and deep down, maybe some relief. She thought about him so many times over the years. She’d loved him so much and for a long time he was the only grown-up she could count on. She watched him note the sparse furnishings and the disorder. She knew he saw the unwashed dishes in the sink, the empty bottles on the counter and the overflowing garbage can.
He wrinkled his nose. “You never were fond of chores.”
“I have better things to do with my time and we have a hired gal comes in once a week to tidy up, but she’s been sick,” she lied.
“Surely singing don’t pay all that well?”
“You’d be surprised. Want somethin’ to drink, uh, that’s right, you don’t drink anymore.” She got a perverse satisfaction out of twisting him all up inside like she felt. She could tell by the way he was glaring holes through her that he was upset. She hung her coat up and walked out of her shoes like nothing about tonight was bothering her.
“Didn’t say that. Just not in excess since—”
“The night? Our big night. So tell me, Ray. How did you explain that to Mama or did she even care?” Her voice sounded brittle. She fought the tears that threatened and prayed
he thought she was as cool as she was pretending to be.
He shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “She cared, but I didn’t hafta explain, not really. You see, you done talked about leaving so often she wasn’t all that surprised you run off. She don’t know why you did. For me, it was different knowing—”
“What you did to me. You forced me, Ray. Raped me!”
He flushed. Her words punched as hard as a pugilist’s fist. Her pain pierced the armor he’d thought he’d placed around his heart. She wasn’t going to give an inch. Being here was opening old wounds. He slipped his shaky hands into his trouser pockets, regarding her with narrowed eyes. “Hell, we both know you were doin’ things a gal your age had no business doing the first time I set eyes on you. Don’t put all the blame on me. You had a part in what happened too.”
“I loved, adored and worshipped you.” She eyed him warily. “I admit, I was a tease, but I was innocent.”
He paced, running his hands through his hair in agitation. “I don’t know what came over me to snap like that...to hurt you. I care for you more than I ever cared for anyone. That was never a lie.”
Hannah dragged in an anguished breath, a little shocked by his vulnerability, by the depth of his regret. “I was so…silly…stupid. I thought…oh, what the heck? What difference does it make now?”
He looked back at her. Neither of them spoke for several seconds and then he did. “Remember Abilene?”
“You broke my heart after that trip and that was just the first time,” she said remembering the trip he’d taken her on her thirteenth birthday, just the two of them. How he’d bought her new clothes and had taken her out on the town. She’d begged him to kiss her and instead he ran off to a whorehouse. She moved towards the kitchen, away from him.
“I need a drink.”
Ray watched as she fiddled in the pantry. It was bare except for some essentials; crackers, tea, coffee, sugar, honey, a few cold remedies and a couple of dozen bottles of what looked to be whiskey. “Don’t y’all ever eat real food?”
“Mostly I eat out,” she admitted. Like she’d been born doing it she poured herself a generous dollop of whiskey. She drank it without so much as a gasp, gag, or by-your-leave. Ray sighed; he’d definitely roast in hell for what he’d sown.
With a tired smile, Hannah handed him a glass. “Here, it’s milder than that white lightenin’ you were so fond of. Remember?”
He remembered all right and slammed the glass back down on the counter. All his pain and regrets flailed at him. “I reckon we both made our share of mistakes, not that I’m excusing mine or my actions that night, but I’m hoping for…I guess I want your forgiveness, Hannah. Lord knows, I never meant for things to turn out like they did.”
“So, is that why you came here after all this time, to apologize?” She looked both surprised and suspicious.
“Partly. I wanted to be sure you were okay and to put things to rights again between us.”
Walking over to the sofa, bottle in hand, she sat down looking at him curiously.
He leaned against the counter, following her with his eyes. Maybe she sensed what he was going to say and didn’t want to hear it. Or, maybe she’d never forgive him?
He watched as she lit a cigarette and paced. She smoked Lucky Strikes. He waited until she’d smoked and finished her entire cigarette in silence, grateful when she finally spoke up.
“Lord knows, Ray, things happen for a reason,” she continued, indicating he should sit down on the couch. She carefully examined her own confused feelings before she spoke. “You hurt me in ways that damaged me badly. I should hate you, but I can’t. Most of my memories of us are good ones. In fact, part of me is even glad to see you. The truth is, despite what you did, being forced to leave home turned out well for me. I am glad I left, glad I am here.”
“That don’t mean you belong here.” He remained seated on the couch. She stood, pacing.
“Of course I do. It’s my home now.”
“Em would die knowing you’re working in places where all sorts of sinning is commonplace.” He felt like a hypocrite preaching at her, but felt the need to anyway.
She rolled her eyes. “C’mon now, Ray. We both know who I learnt most of my sinnin’, smoking, drinking and you know what else and I don’t mean singin’ from.”
“Hannah!” He was appalled by her reference to what should have remained unmentioned.
She smiled tentatively but sat a safe distance across from him on the same couch.
He saw a flash of…she brazenly crossed her legs. Then wet her luscious lips with the tip of her pink tongue. He smelled her floral scent. Did she know what she did to him?
Distance yourself, Raymond Clancy Phillip. Ray reminded himself that she was still a girl no matter how grown-up she looked. He was still her legal guardian. “I didn’t expect you to turn into some hussy shocking folks and acting bold as a feller.”
She struggled to bite back a grin. “I don’t give a fig for labels, but I do kind of like being bold. You know that.”
He felt more of his hair turning gray.
She sighed, struggling with the need to explain herself and the familiar lure of confiding in him like the old days…before the rape. “Heck, Ray, I’ve always wanted to live life free and easy. I love singing and I love living in the city. Not that it’s been all gravy, but it isn’t all work and drudgery either. The world is changing, and I for one like it just fine.”
“President Harding’s freewheeling ways are giving America’s youth bad ideas. What’s the world comin’ to when young gals believe such clap trap? You might be happy to know the farm’s more profitable then ever. I done got me a new tractor. Also, that Anderson boy, the one you wrote, Michael, he done got hisself hitched. Got that uppity banker’s daughter in the family way.”
Hannah gasped. “Michael got Emily Harris pregnant?”
Ray nodded. “Yep, wedding was two Sunday’s back. He looked miserable as a flea in a hot skillet, but her daddy will probably give him an office for lawyering above the bank when he’s done of law school. The other brother, the hero you fancied, he’s staying in the military so the Anderson’s won’t have either of them boys to help with the farm work.”
He took out his tobacco pouch. He still preferred rolling his own cigarettes to fancy store bought brands. “Yep, life’s funny that way, ain’t it? Here one minute, gone the next. Kinda like ya’ll.”
She glared at him.
Chuckling, he put his pouch away and lit his cigarette. “That Booth fella says you done real well, even made a bit of a name for yourself. Those diamonds you have on real?”
“Yeah, why?” She stiffened and narrowed her eyes.
He shrugged. “If they aren’t glass and paste they haven’t been acquired by any decent means, of that I am certain. Damn you, Hannah. I know saloon singers don’t get paid that well.”
Her voice got icy. “I’ve been lucky and I work real hard.” She reached for a large scrapbook and pushed it to him. “Before this danged Prohibition, I worked in the best place in town. The Jefferson was classy, a cabaret, not a saloon.” Her eyes challenged him to say otherwise.
“Owned by Tom Pendergast himself, I hear. Did you know him personally?”
She glanced down at her feet. God forbid he should discern the truth of that. “He was the one gave me the chance to work there.”
“That fella is either a saint or the devil hisself, depending on who you talk to.”
“Well, Tom is many things.”
“Tom. You’re on a first name basis with the head of the city?”
“Not really.” She explained that everyone called him that behind his back. “And, he was my boss.” She said it so matter-of-factly he felt like punching something, flipping through moods like pages in her book. His pride warred with his suspicions, his anger and his doubt. He well knew every necklace had a catch.
He saw her showbiz flyers, napkins and newspaper articles. He’d also seen the brothels and whorehouses lining
the Bottoms. He forced himself not to wonder what she’d done, was willing to do to have ended up working as a singer instead of on her back. Trying to sound as normal as possible, he closed the book. “Yore Mama and me…well we’re willin’ to let bygones be bygones. It’s time you come back home where you belong. Come home, Hannah.” It wasn’t a request.
She looked stunned, but her voice sounded calm. “Oh, I’m sure Mama would love that, you and me resuming where we left off.”
“Your Mama doesn’t know about that and I wouldn’t ever touch you that way again.” He wasn’t really sure he meant that. She called up desire in him without even trying to. He’d probably die wanting her but he’d cut off his parts before he ever forced her again.
She laughed a brittle sound. “Did it ever occur to you, what’s done is done and we can’t go back? Even if I was willin’ to let bygones be bygones like you say, too much has changed. I’m not that good little girl anymore.”
“Yore Mama and I are still responsible for you accordin’ to the law.”
She sat up, spitting fire all over again. “So you’re threatening me?”
He stood, prowling restlessly. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Explain it to me.” Her blue eyes were wary.
Frustrated, he whirled around. “Damn, you know ours is a marriage of necessity, Han. I care for your ma. I appreciate all we’ve been able to accomplish together, but we ain’t never had the kind of closeness you and I shared. Hell, I ain’t ever felt that close to any female but you. I was a fool for denying the attraction between us. I know I done wrong by ya, but I never intended for things to go so sour.” He paused, clearing his throat and moved closer to her, searching for the right words, magic words.
His hand took on a will of its own, gently reaching to trace a path from her cheek to her chin. She tensed, but he used the same soothing tone he used to tame many a young filly. “When I done married up with your ma, we was both getting what we wanted. You know what the farm means to me, havin’ a place to call my own. Damned if I’m not proud of what I’ve helped build—”
The Songbird with Sapphire Eyes Page 13