Janie looked down at the boy, and the anger in her eyes melted away. "Hi, Rafael. It looked like you were having a good time with the Jessup boys."
He nodded once, shyly. "They have to eat now. But we're going to play again later."
"What were you playing?" Janie squatted down in front of Rafael, so their eyes were level. "It looked like fun."
"We were playing a Power Rangers game. They're the good guys. They fight the bad guys, and they always win. Stevie said maybe I could come over to their house sometime and watch the Power Rangers show on TV with them." He twisted around to face Ben. "Could I?"
"Of course you can. Anytime." Bless the Jessup boys for making Rafael feel welcome.
"Good."
Ben saw him eyeing the food in the picnic basket, and he let him go. "Why don't you eat something, Rafe? Then you can play with Stevie again when he's done with his lunch."
"Okay."
Janie started to move away, but Ben caught up with her. "Don't go, please."
"So you can try to pull on my heartstrings a little more?" She glared at him. "You knew I wouldn't he able to resist Rafael. That's another reason you forced me to have lunch with you."
"I don't recall doing any forcing," be said mildly. "You chose to join me."
"You weaseled your way around my defenses," she muttered.
"I didn't think you should make any decisions until you met him," he said. "He needs you, Janie. And so do I."
"I understand what you're trying to do, Ben. Really I do." Her voice had a desperate tinge to it. "If I was in your position, I'd probably try to do the same thing. But you picked the wrong person to help you. I can't marry you. Not for Rafael, not for any other reason."
Suddenly he wanted to know the truth. He wanted to know everything about Janie Murphy, and Rafael had nothing to do with it. He wanted to know what had put the pain in those dark blue eyes, what had put that wariness in every line of her body. He'd been aware of her for three years, ever since she arrived in Cameron, but he didn't know one thing about her. Except for the way their bodies fit together.
"I have to go, Ben."
Janie's low voice bit through the sensual haze that surrounded him. He reached out for her, curling his hand around hers. "Stay a while longer," he said, quietly. "Talk to Rafael for a few more minutes. He needs to feel like he's a part of Cameron."
He saw the indecision in her eyes, as well as the understanding. She knew what he was trying to do. She understood that he was trying to bind them together, to make it more difficult for her to say no. Most other people would have walked away.
She looked down at the little boy on the blanket, and her eyes softened. Sitting down beside him, she touched him lightly on his arm. "Tell me what you like about Cameron," she said to Rafael.
Uncomfortable with the sincerity on Janie's face, Ben couldn't watch her as she spoke to Rafael. He was trying to manipulate her, to get her to do something that she clearly didn't want to do, but still she reached out to the child. Watching them together, the red-gold of her hair blowing around Rafael's cap of shining black hair, he felt a burning sensation in his chest. If only things were different, if only he could he a different man, the scene in front of him might be real, instead of a carefully staged fake.
He couldn't afford to think like that. He couldn't afford to have anything take his focus off of Rafael. He especially couldn't afford to look into himself and discover yearnings like that. Because they would never be fulfilled.
"Hi, Ben."
He looked up to see Keara Carmichael, the music teacher at the elementary school, smiling at him. "Hey, Keara."
She nodded at Rafael. "This must be your boy, Rafael."
An odd combination of pleasure and pain prickled at his chest. "That's him. Let me introduce you."
He knelt down and touched Rafael's head. "Here's one of your new teachers, buddy."
The boy immediately swiveled around and stared at Keara. The teacher's kinky, dark blond hair was pulled together at the back of her head, and her eyes were covered by sunglasses. She stuck out her hand and gravely shook Rafael's.
"Hi, Rafael. I'm Ms. Carmichael," she said. "I'm going to be teaching you music. Do you enjoy music?"
Ben saw a light flare in Rafael's eyes, and he nodded shyly. "I want to play the guitar."
Keara smiled at him. "When you're a little older, you can take lessons. But in the meantime, I'm sure you'll enjoy music classes at Cameron Elementary. I'm looking forward to having you in my class."
The music teacher stood up, smiled at Ben and Janie, and drifted away. Janie watched her go. "I didn't know Keara came to the town picnic."
"She's as bad as you," Ben said, watching her disappear. "She doesn't come to any of the town functions, but she always comes to the picnic. She makes it a point to meet all of the new kids in school. She says it makes them feel less intimidated the first week or two if they've already met their teacher."
"Can't you see how much she loves kids?" Janie turned to him. "Ask her. She'd be perfect." It sounded like she was begging.
He had no interest in marrying Keara Carmichael. "It can't be Keara." She had her secrets, too, and Ben knew she would never agree to a marriage of convenience. And he knew why she would never agree. But he didn't say more. Although Ben knew who she really was, he had no intention of discussing Keara with anyone.
"Then pick someone else." She waved her hand at the crowd of people. "Surely there's another woman in Cameron you can ask."
"I told you, it has to be credible. And there's no one else in Cameron who fits that requirement."
"You've hardly spoken to me in the three years I've been here." Her face suffused with color, and Ben knew she was remembering one time when they'd done a hell of a lot more than talk. "How can anyone say you're interested in me?"
He turned to face her, struggling to hide the heat he was afraid she would see in his eyes. "Logic has nothing to do with it, Janie. We've become an interesting story in Cameron, and people will see what they want to see. And right now, watching you sitting here with me at the picnic, everyone is going to be nodding their heads, telling themselves that they'd spotted it a long time ago. And when questioned, half the people in Cameron will be happy to say they knew all along we were going to get married."
"How can you be so cold?" she whispered. "Not only are you using me, you're using yourself and your own emotions. You're twisting them to suit your own purposes."
"I'm doing what I have to do." He gestured to the boy on the blanket, who was now watching the Jessups with longing in his eyes. "He's beginning to make friends. He wants to go to school. He's finally beginning to relax. I can't bear to think about him losing all that. And I'll do anything to prevent it. Anything. If I have to make a fool out of myself, I will. If I have to beg, I will. If I have to hold my most private emotions up for the scrutiny of Cameron, I'll do that, too." He leaned closer to her. "Don't you understand that?"
"I understand that you love him."
He felt his face harden and shuttered his eyes. "I didn't say I loved him. I said that I'd do anything for him."
"Isn't that the same thing?"
"I feel sorry for him. It's not the same thing at all."
Janie watched him for a moment, and he forced himself to look steadily back. But the understanding in her eyes disturbed him, and finally he looked away.
"I'm glad you had lunch with me," he said.
She didn't answer for a moment. When he looked up at her, he saw nothing but compassion in her face. "I need to talk to you, Ben," she said, and he saw that she'd made a decision.
Hope leaped inside him. "Have you changed your mind?"
"No. But I still want to talk to you."
"I'll come over to your house tonight, after Rafael's in bed. I'll have my neighbor watch him again."
"Fine. I'll see you then."
After saying goodbye to Rafael, she walked away without looking back and hurried out of the park. He watched her walk down th
e street until she turned a corner and disappeared.
Ignoring the loneliness that swept over him, he turned to Rafael. "Are you ready to play some baseball, buddy?"
* * *
Janie glanced at the clock, then looked around her house once more, but nothing was out of place. Nothing was ever out of place, she told herself bitterly. This wasn't a home. It was merely a place to stay.
She told herself again that she was making a mistake, that she was taking a chance, but she didn't care. She had to make Ben see that she couldn't marry him. He had to be convinced, so he could find someone else. Because she couldn't bear it if they took Rafael away from him.
It had taken only moments for her to fall in love with the solemn, shy child. Ben was right He needed to stay in Cameron, with Ben. She'd seen Rafael beginning to open up at the picnic earlier today, saw the beginning of trust and hope. If they took him away from Ben, she was afraid that his trust would be crushed into nothingness, irretrievably lost.
So she had to tell Ben why she could never marry, not him or anyone else. She had to make him understand, so that he could find someone else while there was still time.
Fear rippled over her at the thought of sharing her story with anyone. But Ben wasn't just anyone, she told herself. Ben could be trusted. She knew that with a certainty she didn't want to examine. He would never betray her, never put her at risk. In spite of all the warnings she'd received, she knew he would guard her secrets.
A part of her argued that she didn't owe Ben anything. But the rest of her knew that if she didn't tell him the truth, he'd continue to pursue her. And she was afraid that she'd be weak enough to give in, weak enough to reach for what she wanted. Like she had done once already. So she'd tell him her story, and send him on his way.
The front gate squeaked, and she instinctively grasped the tube of pepper spray in the pocket of her dress. Then she forced her hand to relax. It was almost certainly Ben. When the doorbell rang, she looked through the peephole, then opened the door to let him in.
The short-sleeved polo shirt he wore emphasized his wiry strength. His upper arms were ropy with muscle, and dark hairs covered his forearms. Forcing herself to look away, she said, "Come in." She nodded to the chair he'd chosen the other night. "I fixed you a glass of tea."
"Efficient, aren't you?"
"I try to be."
He didn't sit down in the chair she'd indicated. Instead, he stared down at her. He wasn't much over six feet tall, but he seemed to tower over her. She drew herself up to her full five feet four inches and stared back.
"What am I doing here, Janie?"
"I need to talk to you."
His eyes lightened. "Have you changed your mind?"
"No, I haven't. But I feel like I owe you an explanation."
"Why? You didn't feel like you owed me any explanations the other night. In fact, I think you implied that you didn't owe me a thing."
"I hadn't seen you with Rafael the other night."
"What difference does that make?"
"You need him, Ben. You need him as much as he needs you. That was very clear this afternoon at the picnic."
"I don't need him." His voice was rough. "He needs me. For some reason, he decided he trusts me. He's bonded to me. And I'm all he has. If they take him away, he may never trust anyone else."
"I agree. And if they take him away from you, you may never recover, either."
"This isn't about me," he said, glaring at her. "This is about Rafael."
"I think it's just as much about you as it is Rafael. And that's why I'm going to tell you why I can't marry you."
"I'll be happy to listen to you tell me why you think you can't marry me. But it won't make me change my mind."
"I think it will." Her voice was quiet, and the anxiety that had been building inside her all day melted away. This was the right thing to do. Ben needed to know, and she could trust him to keep her secret. For the first time in three years she was going to tell someone her story, and she felt nothing but a sense of liberation.
She spread her hands and looked up at him. "Anyone who's close to me is at risk. I can't take that kind of chance with either you or Rafael.
"I can't marry you, Ben. I can't marry anyone—because at any time, I could be killed."
* * *
Chapter 3
«^»
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Ben's scowl deepened.
"I'm in the witness protection program. I was moved to Cameron to get away from a killer, and I have no guarantee that he won't eventually find me."
She saw the shock bloom in his eyes and was bitterly triumphant. "Now do you understand?"
"I don't understand a thing," he said slowly, the shock in his eyes changing to speculation. "Tell me what's going on."
"It's very simple. The witness protection program of the U.S. Marshals' office changed my identity, gave me a new name and a new background, and moved me to Cameron. They also lent me the money to buy Heaven on Seventh and my house. But they can't guarantee that I'll always be safe. They can't guarantee that the man who tried to kill me won't ever find me." She shrugged and closed her hand on the tube in her pocket. "When it comes to protecting myself every day, I'm on my own."
He reached out a hand, almost involuntarily, it seemed, and touched her cheek. "Poor Janie. How alone you must feel."
His touch burned into her, searing her down to her soul. And because his touch, and his sympathy, moved her more than she wanted to think about, she stepped away. "It's the price I pay for being alive. So all in all, it's a bargain."
"No one in Cameron knows about this." It was a statement, rather than a question.
"You're the first person I've told." She clenched her hands into fists in her pocket. "Aside from the obvious security risks, what if I befriended someone? What if I got close to someone, and the murderer found me? I would be putting that person at risk, also."
"Aren't you exaggerating? What are the chances of someone finding you here? In a small town like this, strangers would be noticed. You should be fairly safe here."
"I'm not safe anywhere," she said, her voice low and passionate. "I've already learned that lesson."
"How would anyone find you in Cameron?"
She saw the sympathy in his eyes and for just a moment, she wanted to lose herself in it. She wanted to believe that he was right, that the killer wouldn't find her in Cameron. Then she shook her head. "He'll find me. Eventually."
"How can you be so sure?"
"I was in a safe house, supposedly secure. Only the Chicago Police Department knew where I was. But he found me. It was only a matter of luck that I wasn't hurt. Then, when I was moved again, he found my sister and her children. My only family. They weren't so lucky. Their house was bombed, and they were burned. They all lived, but they had to be placed in a safe house, also. It was clear that the killer would do anything to draw me out, even hurt the members of my family. Now they're in the witness protection program, too. I don't know where they are, or even if they're alive."
"What happened, Janie? Why is there a murderer after you?"
"I witnessed a murder in Chicago," she said, and once more, the scene replayed itself in her mind. "It was my boss. He owned a nursery, and I was his landscape designer. It was late at night, and we were in one of the greenhouses, discussing a job we had to do the next day. We heard someone come in, and my boss went to tell them that the nursery was closed. It was dark, and I was standing behind some large plants, so the men didn't see me. But I saw them.
"There were two men. One of them stayed in the shadows, but the other stepped right into the light. The man in the shadows said something to my boss, and then the other man shot him. When Jim fell down, he stood over him and shot him again."
She swallowed hard, remembering the horror of seeing her boss, a man she had always liked and respected, gunned down in front of her. And remembered her own fear. "I knew that if those men found out I was there, they'd kill me, too. So
I tried to stay perfectly still, hoping they wouldn't search the greenhouse. The man in the shadows never came any closer, so I didn't see his face. But he told the man with the gun to take Jim's money, to make it look like a robbery. They searched Jim's pockets, then went into the front of the greenhouse. I heard the cash register open, then I heard the front door close. I was afraid to move for a long time."
"What happened then?" Ben took her hand, and she gripped his fingers tightly.
"Jim was dead. He was dead even before the killers left the greenhouse. The police told me that, later. I finally forced myself to move, and called the police." She remembered the sirens, the police officers swarming the scene, the sense of unreality and shock. And the acute sense of separation from everyone else, the sense that she'd changed and would never be the same person. "The police were kind, but they were busy trying to gather evidence. They took my statement and sent me to a police artist to draw a picture of the man I'd seen. To give them credit, they realized that I was in danger, so they hid my identity from the reporters and had someone guarding me."
"Did they catch the man who killed your boss?"
"Yes. Apparently he had a long record. Once the police saw the artist's drawing, they showed me some mug shots and I was able to identify him. But he refused to tell anyone who was with him. He insisted that he was alone, that he only wanted to rob the greenhouse and didn't know anyone would still be there. He stuck to his story all through the trial."
"And you had to testify," Ben said grimly.
"If I hadn't, he probably wouldn't have been convicted." She gave him a humorless smile. "He was a professional, Ben. Clearly it was more than just a robbery, but the police couldn't figure out the motive. And the murderer wouldn't talk. He didn't leave any fingerprints, and they never found the gun he'd used. There was no physical evidence linking him to the murder. I was the only witness."
"Why didn't you tell them to go to hell?" Ben said roughly. "If you hadn't testified, no one would have known your identity. Why put yourself in danger like that?"
"I owed it to my boss. He didn't deserve to die, and I couldn't bear the thought that his murderer would get off scot-free. I wouldn't have been able to look his wife and children in the eye if I had refused to testify."
THE MARRIAGE PROTECTION PROGRAM Page 3