Rebel in a Small Town

by Kristina Knight

  He rose, then snuck behind one tree, making his way around Zeke, who was trying to catch Mara. Her attention was focused on the little boy, leaving her open to James’s attack. James lunged from behind the tree, catching her around the waist and bringing her to the ground with him.

  “Got her, Zeke,” he said in triumph.

  She was breathing heavily, and her breasts pressed against his chest. Those big blue eyes darkened, and her pink tongue darted out of her mouth to moisten her lips. A flash of electricity seemed to spark between them, igniting a fire deep in his belly.

  You don’t have her, James reminded himself. She isn’t yours. She was never yours before, and she can’t be yours now. There is too much at stake.

  He had Zeke to consider. He deserved parents who weren’t on-again, off-again.

  There was the election, too. When it became public knowledge that James had fathered a child with Mara, her past reputation would influence his bid for sheriff. And he knew that for certain townspeople, her past would outweigh the smart, capable woman she was now. It wasn’t fair, but it was the way things were. There was a real possibility his campaign wouldn’t be about his ability to serve this community but about how hooking up with Mara called his morality into question.

  He dipped his head toward hers, wanting the feel of her mouth against his, and unable to deny himself. He wanted to taste her, not out of frustration and not with anger.

  And that was quite possibly the dumbest thought he’d had in the past few days. Hell, it hadn’t been a week since she came back to town, and already she was taking up most of his time. James didn’t want to be angry with Mara, but it was a long step between not being angry and letting the chemistry between them determine his actions.

  Her lids drooped, and her head lifted slightly off the ground.

  At least his wasn’t the only body that still wanted.

  Zeke pounced on the two of them, roaring like Mara had a little while before. He giggled as he slid off their two-person pile, settling against Mara’s side. James slid off Mara to the other side. This wasn’t the time; there could never be a time. Not now.

  Not because of what she had done, but because of who she was, and who he was. He was the man who would stay in Slippery Rock. His adventures would be had wearing the sheriff’s department uniform and, maybe, with the title of Sheriff on a nameplate on the desk his mother had picked out for his father decades ago.

  Mara was the woman who couldn’t stay. Her adventures would be everywhere, and they wouldn’t include family heirlooms like desks.

  “Sorry,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  She sat up. “No worries.” She stood, brushing her hands over the seat of her shorts. She turned her attention to their son, reaching out her hand. The two of them started playing the chase game again, but this time James stayed out.

  It would be better if he kept things clearly separated in his mind, because there was no future to be made between him and Mara.

  CHAPTER TEN

  STRONG HANDS CARESSED her belly, and a deep voice whispered something she didn’t quite catch in her ear. The something was enough to make her stomach do an excited little flip-flop and the hairs on her nape stir in anticipation. He was warm beside her, smelling of sandalwood with just a hint of something spicy. His arms and back were smooth to her touch, warm and hard, and she couldn’t get enough of running her hands over him.

  It was all so familiar. God, she had missed this. She arched her back, wanting his touch on her breasts. Oh, and he needed to do more than whisper sweet nothings in her ear.

  Mara stretched her arms over her head, and the feel of the cold iron bed frame against her hands jolted her quickly out of the dream. The images were slow to leave. She and James had been entwined on silken sheets, and the headboard had been a rich, smooth wood with intricately carved spindles instead of the iron of her childhood bed.

  The coverlet rich and velvety like that bed in the suite in Nashville instead of the soft cotton of one of her grandmother’s quilts.

  Entwined like they’d been in Nashville.

  Nothing at all like what was going on now in Slippery Rock, where James just wanted to be her friend. Where James wanted to be Zeke’s dad, and her friend. Where Mara couldn’t stop reacting to the sound of his voice or the friendly brush of his hand against hers, and where that angry kiss they’d shared when she’d first arrived threw her into dreams she hadn’t had for the better part of eight months.

  She shot a glance toward the Pack ’n Play in the corner. Zeke still rested peacefully. She sat up, shook her head and slid her legs over the side of the bed, letting her toes squeeze the thickly piled lavender shag rug. Sunlight streamed through the windows, the gauzy lavender-checked curtains she’d insisted on for her senior year in high school doing little to dissipate the strong light. Lavender-and-blue flowers were painted just above the headboard, and her favorite owls, again in lavender and blue, sat on the bedside table. She’d found them in a wedding store and convinced Gran she needed them.

  The familiarity was nice, if a bit weird. Most of her assignments for Cannon Security entailed staying in blandly furnished apartments. The bits of blue and lavender were a nice change from the taupe palettes she’d been living with for the past few years.

  Robins and larks chirped in the trees outside her window, another nice change. Usually she was wakened by the sound of freeway traffic or inadvertently triggered car alarms. All in all, it was nice to be home.

  She just needed to wrap her head around the fact that, for James, their past was exactly that. The past. He was Zeke’s dad, not her lover. Not any longer.

  She grabbed clean clothes and headed for the bathroom down the hall. Once she was showered and dressed—denim capris, a light green tank top and flip-flops, leaving her long blond hair to dry around her shoulders—she felt ready to face her actual job at Mallard’s. Mike was back from vacation, and today was the day for full diagnostics of the old system so she could begin building the new. Daydreams and night dreams about James would have to wait.

  Zeke turned over onto his tummy, his little hand beginning to rub against the mesh of the Pack ’n Play. She picked him up, his body still a bit limp from sleep, and cooed while she started his diaper change. He smiled at her and farted when she removed the diaper. Mara waved her hand in front of her face.

  “Nice, kid, nice. You’ve gotta save some of that for your dad, okay?” Zeke grinned at that. She’d read all the baby books but still wondered for the millionth time just how much of what she said to him the child understood, and how much he just liked the sound of her voice.

  She put a pair of shorts and a lightweight T-shirt on him and started down the stairs.

  Gran and Amanda were seated at the kitchen table when she entered. Collin must already have been in the orchard for the day.

  “Good morning,” she said, making her voice sound chirpier than she felt. Nearly a week of waking up halfway to sexual satisfaction from a dream about James had that effect on her. At least, that’s what she thought it was. Mara couldn’t remember ever having this many sex dreams, at least not back-to-back-to-back.

  Amanda waved her spoon in Mara’s direction, then gathered her cereal bowl and Gran’s empty plate. “Need to check the berry garden. See ya later,” she called over her shoulder as she rushed out the door. Mara checked the dishes in the sink. Cereal bowl mostly full. Again. She set Zeke in the high chair Collin had brought down from the attic over the weekend. He waved his hands and started talking in his usual gibberish. Mara put a few pieces of cereal on his tray and filled a sippy cup with milk from Walters Ranch.

  “Do you think they’ll ever stop using glass bottles?” she asked, not expecting an answer.

  “Bennett says milk tastes better from glass than plastic. I agree,” Gran said, referring to
Levi’s father and his penchant for old-fashioned milk bottles instead of the plastic jugs most stores carried.

  Mara filled a cup with orange juice. “I’ll have to take your word for it, but Zeke definitely likes it.” And Mara liked that he hadn’t inherited her intolerance for milk. She gestured toward the sink, then the back door. “You think she’s ever going to stop running out of the room when I come in?” she asked.

  Gran shrugged as she rose. “She’s not sure what to think about you being back, that’s all. She’s especially not sure what to think about you being back with a baby. Want some eggs?”

  “Just juice and toast,” she said, taking what she needed from the refrigerator. While she waited for the toast to pop up, she asked, “Why does it bug her that I’m back?”

  Gran sipped coffee from an orchard mug. “I don’t think it bothers her. You haven’t shared your plans with her. Like I said, it’s harder on her when people leave than it was on you. You and Collin always bounced back from those visits with your parents, from their coming and going, especially around her age. Amanda doesn’t bounce, and since you graduated, you’ve never been here more than a day at a time. Put that with the tornado and the volunteer construction work Collin’s taken on, and she’s not quite sure what to think.”

  “I’m her sister. I’m here for a job.”

  Gran raised an eyebrow. “That’s part of the problem.”

  The toast was ready, and Mara spread on a thin layer of apple jam made by Levi’s mother, Mama Hazel. She bit in and closed her eyes as the sweetness of the jam slid over her taste buds.

  “How long are you here?” Gran asked pointedly. “You don’t have just yourself to think about now. There’s Zeke, too. At some point, he’ll need preschool, a regular address—”

  “He’s barely talking, and you’re planning for his education already?” Mara teased her grandmother, but the thought of leaving wasn’t quite as exciting as it usually was, and that bothered her more than she was ready to admit, even to Gran. She didn’t want to leave, not just yet, maybe not ever. But staying here, so close to James, and being only his friend? She didn’t think she could survive that.

  “I’d like nothing more than for you to stay, but only if that is what you want. You’re the one who says you have itchy feet.”

  That was not a reminder Mara liked. Yes, she knew it was true, but that didn’t make hearing it any easier. She finished her toast and downed the glass of juice. “I’ll go back to the B and B if it’s that inconvenient for Amanda to have me here.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with being like your father. There is a kind of beauty in always wondering what is around the next corner, and being brave enough to take that next turn. He makes me absolutely crazy, and I hate what he’s put you kids through, but he is my son. I wouldn’t have the three of you if it weren’t for him.” Gran made Samson Tyler sound like some unique, noble combination of a hippie and an adventurer.

  The truth for Mara was that Samson was an inconsiderate, immature man who had no interest in taking responsibility for anyone but himself. He’d dragged their mother along on his “adventures” for nearly thirty years. Not that Maddie Tyler complained about the quick moves, job changes or any of the rest of it. She simply smiled, packed their things and headed off in his ancient VW Beetle.

  Gran was still talking. “You’ll stay here, of course. Amanda will get used to you and Zeke. You need a babysitter while you’re working on the Mallard’s contract. We all want you here. Some of us are just better at expressing that.”

  Mara could relate to not expressing her feelings. That fear of rejection had made her run away from James in Nashville, and it had kept her away from home for too long. If she’d had a bit more strength all along, Amanda wouldn’t be running away from her now. James would know his son. Mara shook off the guilt settling over her shoulders.

  “Well, if I’m going to prove to my sister that I’m at least a little bit reliable, I’d better get this inspection done quickly. When she ventures back in, tell her I’ll be home after lunch. We can work the roadside stand together this afternoon. We’ll take Zeke with us.”

  * * *

  “I’M GLAD THE news crews covering the tornado damage left before this reconstruction project started. Although I hear they’re going to do some kind of six-month reminder of what happened. How we recovered,” a low voice with a bit of a twang said from behind Mara. She turned to see a woman with a mass of long, thin braids, light caramel-colored skin and deep brown eyes behind her. “Mara, right?”

  The voice and the look rang a bell, but Mara couldn’t put a name to either the face or the voice. “Yeah, but I don’t think—”

  “I was a year behind you and the guys in school. Savannah Walters. Levi’s sister.”

  “And Collin’s girlfriend. You’re the one he keeps sneaking away from the house to see.”

  Mara had walked downtown to get a break from Mallard’s. While most of the workers, and Mike Mallard himself, were perfectly nice to her, she’d felt the glowering gaze of CarlaAnn from the moment she arrived at the store. During quiet moments at the register, the clerk had made it her mission to tell whoever was around about the so-called shoplifting incident.

  “And I’ll bet you’ve had just about enough of CarlaAnn, haven’t you? Don’t worry, she kept the town talking about me not so long ago. It’ll pass.” Savannah grinned. “And in Collin’s defense, I keep sneaking away from my house, too. This grown-up relationship thing when you’re living with parents is weird.”

  “I can imagine.”

  Savannah held out her hand, and Mara shook it. Savannah sat beside Mara on the bench facing what used to be the farmers’ market. The roof had been torn off in the tornado, and one wall collapsed. The big plate glass window had blown out. Along with a crew of construction workers, Collin had helped to reinforce the walls. Today, he’d joined Levi and the rest of the volunteers working on the back side of the roof.

  “Why don’t you like the news crews coming around?”

  Savannah shivered. “Bad memories.”

  And then everything clicked. Savannah had been on a talent show and had a big hit on country radio before a scandal rocked her career around the time the tornado rocked Slippery Rock.

  “You were on that benefit concert show, right?” Mara asked. “The one that raised funds for the reconstruction.” The other woman grimaced and then nodded. “You were good.”

  “I’m glad I’m not in that spotlight now.”

  Mara wasn’t sure what else to say. She didn’t know Savannah Walters, not even from Collin. That was another aspect of being back that was different. There was a time in their lives when she and Collin told one another everything. She remembered that expression on his face when she’d told him that James was Zeke’s father. He’d looked betrayed...and hurt. That hurt ran deep, and it was because of her. Because she had shut so much of her life out of his. She needed to fix that.

  She needed to fix a lot of things. “What are you still doing in Slippery Rock? I mean, I love my brother, but you had a Nashville record deal.”

  “It turned out I hated singing on stage. Crowds and me,” she said with a shake of her head, “not simpatico.” A smile lit Savannah’s face, and her eyes seemed to fasten on Collin’s broad, muscular back. “Now I’m back here and figuring out who I am for the first time in life. I know, I know, that sounds—”

  Mara held up a hand. “I totally get it. I’ve been doing the same thing for the past couple years.”

  “With Zeke?”

  She nodded. “Zeke changed a lot of things.” She watched the men working on the farmers’ market for a long moment. “Slippery Rock tends to change things, too.”

  “I’m going to build a camp for foster kids,” Savannah said, and Mara’s attention snapped back to the woman sitting beside her. “Still in the planning stages,
but as you said, Slippery Rock tends to change things for people. Foster kids need a place to just be. I figure if Slippery Rock could change things for me, it can change things for them.”

  “I think that’s amazing. My brother and this town are lucky to have you.”

  “Thanks.” Savannah’s focus turned to Collin, and she sighed.

  Mara recognized the look on Savannah’s face. Territorial. In love. She’d seen a similar expression in the mirror in Nashville. She’d seen it again in the mirror after her argument with James at the B and B. Lord, but she was in trouble.

  “Do you think they realize they’re basically giving the women of Slippery Rock a free show?” she asked. “All that tanned skin and muscle and sweat?”

  Savannah cocked her head to the side as if inspecting the crew of workers. “You know, I think this oblivious thing they have going is a total act. They definitely know.”

  Mara chuckled. Another man joined the men working on the market, and her mouth went dry. James wore a blue department polo and khakis, and his face was shaded by the bill of a ball cap. He wore black sneakers instead of the combat-type boots he’d worn last week. His shoulders seemed almost as broad as the nearly demolished door he walked through as he greeted the rest of the crew.

  He didn’t ask where to join in, just picked up a hammer and helped Collin’s crew setting the studs for the new wall.

  “Wow.” She couldn’t stop the single syllable from escaping her mouth. Mara clapped her hand over her mouth. “Ignore me,” she said through her fingers.

  Savannah grinned. “He does make you look twice, doesn’t he?” She elbowed Mara. “And lucky you, you get to claim him as the father of your baby.”

  Of course Collin had told Savannah. Mara shouldn’t have been surprised. Still, she wasn’t sure just how public James wanted his parental status to be.