by Vicki Hinze
Should he warn her? No, that’d increase jeopardy. Alternative measures were necessary. “You’ll handle it.”
“I will, but it’d be easier if it weren’t with all Robert’s friends.”
Joe grunted. “They’ll be too busy trying to find out what you know that isn’t being reported in the press to give you much grief.”
“True.” She sighed. “Okay, you’ve worked your charm. I’m calm.”
“At least I’m good for something. You like my voice.”
“You’re good for lots of things and I love your voice. There’s a hint of an accent in it that soothes me.”
“You picked up on that?”
“Obviously, Joseph. I just said I did.”
“You did, but … it’s Cajun. I’ve worked hard to get rid of it. I had to—critical in my job. For some reason, around you it surfaces.”
“I think I like that. I take you to a different place.”
“You do, sha. But don’t try to sidetrack me. You said you loved my voice.”
“I did.”
“Women never use the love word about anything except shoes or dessert unless—you really do care about me.”
She covered a laugh with a cough. “I told you, I’m a caring person.”
Protecting her heart. She was amazing—beautiful, brilliant, kind, and good. And nurturing. So nurturing. The kind that was faked annoyed him. But Beth’s brand was genuine, potent and powerful, and it made her irresistible to him. Didn’t she know how special that made her? Apparently not, or she knew but didn’t trust it. “You’re a paradox.”
“Excuse me.”
“You’re open and caring but also guarded—at least, with me. Or is it with men? Did someone hurt you, Beth?”
“I don’t want to talk about this.”
“I’m sure you don’t. But when I didn’t want to talk, you insisted. I’m insisting.”
“Why does it matter?”
“It matters.”
“You’re forcing me to make a choice I don’t want to make, Joe.”
“What choice? It’s a simple question.”
“Do I live a life someone else defined for me, or do I define it?”
“Good question. How will you answer it?”
“Honestly.” She paused. “Does anyone reach adulthood without having her heart broken at least once?”
“But yours wasn’t just broken. It was shattered.”
“How do you know that?”
“In a thousand ways, sha. Who was the jerk, and why were you hung up on someone so shortsighted?”
“Shortsighted?”
“You’re a treasure. A man with sense would know it.”
“Thank you, Joe.”
“It wasn’t a compliment. Just stating the facts.”
“That’s even better. Let’s say he hid the truth about himself well. We dated six months. It was serious. Very serious—for me.”
“You loved him?”
“I did. I don’t anymore.”
“Fine line.”
“Yeah. Crossing it’s pretty easy when you’re with a guy at a New Year’s Ball, surrounded by all your family and friends, and a glamorous woman catches your guy’s eye and he dumps you on the spot.”
“He dumped you at the ball? In front of everyone?”
“Yes.”
“He humiliated you.” Fury seeped through Joe’s voice.
“It was quite the chatter—and a real shocker. Everyone thought he was so perfect. Handsome, charming—you know, like you—not that you’d humiliate a woman … You wouldn’t, would you, Joe?”
“I can’t believe you have to ask. I’m definitely insulted.”
“I didn’t think you would, but I didn’t think he would either. So naturally I have issues with my judgment.”
“Gorgeous, it’s his judgment that should be questioned. Not yours.”
“I’d agree, but until that happened, I thought he was a good man.”
“He was shortsighted and shallow—and he lacked compassion and respect.”
“Now you’re getting the hang of how I felt. But I’m over it now.”
“No, sha. Not yet. But you will be. All you need is a man who appreciates you for the treasure you are.” He grunted. “Was Nora there when this happened?”
“She was.”
“How’d she react?”
“Her face was the color of an apple.”
“She was embarrassed?”
“Nora? No way. She was outraged. Everyone was. I was embarrassed.”
She’d been devastated. “I’m sorry I brought it up. But it’s done, and you can bet he’s regretting it now.”
“Funny, it never occurred to me that he might regret it, though I’m sure he regretted letting everyone else see his true colors.”
Joe groaned. “You going to be finding out if he did?”
“I think not. One collision with that kind of humiliation was more than enough.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“Why?”
“Men like that seldom change, and if he hurt you again, I’d have to take exception.”
She laughed. “You gonna beat him up, Joe?”
“Might.” He sighed. “He sure is costing me a lot of extra work, trying to convince you I’m crazy about you.”
“Tiring of the effort already, eh?”
“Not by a long shot. I’m staying put, sha. I’ll grow on you eventually.” She probably feared exactly that. That she’d get used to him, and then he’d walk out on her. “Things will work out in time. For now, stay calm and get some rest.”
“I will.”
“If anything odd happens, let me know. See you soon.”
“Soon. Is that in days? weeks? months?” She sighed. “Never mind. If you knew, you would have told me. Call me later, if you can—if you want to, that is.”
He wanted to, and that she wanted him to conjured an errant smile. “Need glue, eh?”
“After a couple hours with Robert’s bunch? Probably a bucketful.”
“If Nora heard you say that, she’d blister your ears.”
“She would. She says strength is a choice. The less choice you have, the stronger you have to be.”
“Wise woman.” Joe took a swig of soda. Beth wasn’t herself. She was scared, weary to the bone, and worried sick about Sara. “Nora would say to rely on your faith to get through the hard stuff—and I’d agree with her on that too.”
“It’s keeping me upright. Still, a little human glue helps.”
If what Joe saw in that draft was related to Robert Tayton III, Beth was going to need a lot more than a bucketful of glue. “Who’s going with you?”
“Jeff Meyers, but he doesn’t know it yet.”
The pit of Joe’s stomach hollowed. He stared at the lamp burning on the desk. Jealous. That was crazy. He should be happy that a trained guy like Jeff would be there to watch over her—and Jeff would watch. Even if she thought they were just friends, the man was still a little in love with her. “You inviting him on a date?”
“Of course not. He doubts me, Joe. Thinks I’m mixed up with Robert’s kidnapping—at the moment, I’m not even sure Jeff’s a friend.”
Much better. Much, much better. “I’m glad it’s not a date.”
“Would it bother you if it were?”
He dragged his teeth over his lower lip. The answer didn’t require a second’s thought. Disclosing it did. “Yeah, it would bother me.”
“Keep up the straight talk and you’ll make me believe, Joe.”
That guy clearly had burned her badly. “I’m counting on it.” He rubbed at the knot of muscles in his neck. “ ’Night, gorgeous.”
“ ’Night.”
He hung up, grabbed a bottle of water from the minibar, and absorbed the new information into the old. First, he’d better call Jeff Meyers and give him a heads-up and maybe put him on friendly notice, in a good guy-to-good guy way that he was interested in Beth. Just notice, not a warning. Yet. Then he’d
call Mark and get the lowdown on Beth’s shortsighted heartbreaker.
Dawn and noon came and went, and the afternoon dragged into evening with no further news on Sara or Robert and no word from the kidnapper.
The only things that had kept Beth sane were Joe’s calls, a visit by Peggy and Nora midafternoon, and one from Lisa and Kelly just before dusk. Lisa had talked to the doctors at Sacred Heart and Sara was still critical, but all the signs were good for her stabilizing. They were cautiously optimistic.
Good signs and cautious optimism gave Beth hope.
At eight o’clock Jeff returned to Sara’s. Freshly showered and shaved, he looked more rested. “You hanging in there okay?”
Very protective, and seemingly less suspicious. Wondering why, Beth nodded. “I have to go to the club in forty-five minutes for a fund-raiser. It’ll take a couple hours.”
Jeff’s jaw dropped and he lifted an opposing hand. “What if the kidnapper calls?”
“He didn’t call last night—if it’s a he—and who knows when or if he will?” She’d thought about this and had a solution. “We can forward Sara’s calls to my mobile.” With all the visitors and activity, Beth hadn’t made it home for clothes to wear to the gala. She’d have to wear something of Sara’s.
“It’s a bad idea, Beth. The club’s a crime scene.”
“The FBI released it.” He’d slept or he would know that—not that he appeared any less worried on hearing it. “Sara asked me to fill in for her tonight, and I’m not going to tell her she isn’t getting the two million she needs for abused moms and kids because the phone might ring. It’s a simple matter to forward the calls.”
“I see your point, but anything out of the ordinary could have unintended consequences.”
“Well.” Beth paused, then looked up at him. “If I don’t go, you’ll have two million intended consequences to explain to Sara.”
“She’ll have a fit.”
“Oh, yeah. A bad one.”
His face flushed. “Okay, you’ll go, but I’m going with you.”
“Fine.” That had been easier than expected. “I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”
Joe never would have caved so easily—not that it was fair to compare the men. But maybe it wasn’t about her. Jeff had looked really grim about having to tell Sara …
Odd, but then again, why wouldn’t he want to avoid that? She was clinging to life by a thread.
Beth went upstairs into a guest room closet where Sara kept her formals, grabbed a black dress that was vintage conservative Sara, and put it on. It didn’t look half bad, though with its high neck and empire waist it wasn’t a style Beth would have bought. Would Joe have liked it?
What’s the difference? He’s charming. Crazy about you at the moment, but he’s probably crazy about puppies too. It doesn’t really mean anything. She met her eyes in the mirror. Get it through your head. No matter what he says, it wouldn’t work. He’s for someone special, not for an average woman like you.
Her head had the message. It was her heart that was deaf. Deflated, she twisted her hair up and loosely pinned it into place, slid into a strappy pair of heels, smeared on some lip gloss, and then headed for the door.
Jeff stood waiting near the front entryway. “You look pretty.”
“Thanks.” She wrinkled her nose. “You too.”
“Ready?”
No. Absolutely not. If she never set foot in the club again it’d be too soon for her. “Yes, I’m ready.” Beth took in a steadying breath and walked out.
Beth pumped up the group to open their wallets, praying the phone wouldn’t ring. Afterward, she fielded and sidestepped a few questions about Robert and then talked with Darla Green. Stunning in red, she wore her hair darker, short and jet black, and her bright green eyes gleamed.
“You need some good news.” Darla hooked their arms and led her to a quiet corner. “When you talk to Sara, tell her she can have the property on Airport Road. I know she wants it. I’ll even contribute a hundred thousand dollars toward a building. That will motivate her to get well.”
“It will.” Beth smiled. “She’ll be thrilled, Darla. Thank you.”
“Glad to do it.” Worry creased her arched brow. “Anything new on her condition?”
“Still in ICU, but Jeff checked on our way over. She’s stabilizing.”
“That’s good news.”
“Every minute she breathes is good news.”
Darla clasped Beth’s hands. “She’s lucky to have you for a friend, Beth. We should all be so blessed.”
Clearly she was thinking about her son, Lance, shunning her. “Things work out. Keep hoping.”
“I’m beyond hope for myself. Too many skeletons.” Sadness flickered in her eyes. “But I’ll hope for Sara.”
“No one is skeleton free. You only lose if you give up. Keep hoping anyway.”
“No sense in it. Not for me.”
“Darla Green. I never pegged you as a coward.”
Darla sobered, her lips drawing tight. “Excuse me?”
“Hope when you have reason to hope is easy. It’s when you can’t see a reason and hope anyway—”
Darla’s expression softened and her eyes misted. “I hear you, but I’m beyond that too. I’ve made too many mistakes.”
“Need a superhero, huh?”
Darla laughed, but there was no mirth in it. “At least a superhero.”
Beth clasped her arm. “I’ll lend you mine.”
“Joe? Honey, you’re crazy. I’d never lend him to any woman.”
Joe. Everyone came back to Joe. Mr. Unreachable. He wasn’t even hers to lend. “I was talking about God.”
She sputtered. “Trust me, hon. God doesn’t want me.”
“He already has you. He’s just waiting for you to remember it and welcome Him,” Beth countered. “But enough said. Some things you have to realize on your own.”
“Pray for that then, will you? Because after all I’ve done, I can’t see God ever being anything but disgusted with me.”
“You’re wrong about that, and I will pray for you.” Beth gave Darla’s arm a pat. She was thawing. Opening up to the idea. Maybe eventually she’d open up to Him.
“Just encourage her as you have been. Ultimately, it’s her choice.”
Free will. I’m not exactly a shining example. Her feelings about Robert proved it. I’d hate to fall short and disappoint You or mess up her chances for finding You.
“You’re My choice.”
Beth smiled. Loved. Warts and all.
“Beth, do you really think a person can’t get past the point of redemption?” Darla asked.
“I know it.” Through Christ all things are possible.
“Interesting. I’ll have to muddle on that.” Darla blinked hard. “I don’t believe I’ve ever thanked you for supporting me—during the hard times. I know it wasn’t easy. John was beloved here, and … and …”
“You’ve done a lot of good here too, Darla. Don’t forget that. There weren’t many who believed you would do … what they said you did.” Killing John? It was absurd. He adored Darla and she adored him.
“Very few thought I was smart enough to kill John.” She shrugged, and a whiff of her cologne breezed Beth’s way. “It’s okay. I know most of the villagers think I’m an airhead.”
“You’re not an airhead.”
“I know, but they believe I am. Anyway, I appreciate your kindnesses. They helped me through some dark days.”
“Those days are behind you now.”
“Yes.” Darla sniffed. “Now, have you reached Sara’s fund-raising goal?”
“Not yet.” Beth hated to admit it, but Sara would get the money even if Beth had to cover it herself.
“How much more do you need?”
“Five hundred thousand or so.”
Darla tapped her cheek with her fingertip. “Well, I’d better get busy then. You know, I’m pretty good at fund-raising. I did it for John every campaign.”
She sti
ll missed him, and likely the social life that came with his office. “You were a great Mrs. Mayor.”
“I enjoyed it.” Darla lifted her chin. “Don’t worry. I’ll get Sara her money. I know everyone’s secrets—and they know I know them.” She wiggled her eyebrows, then laughed. “Oh, don’t look so worried. I won’t blackmail anyone. I’ll charm them.”
Relieved, Beth seized the opportunity. “Work on Ben Nelson about financing the construction on the mom apartments?”
“Already done, dear. Miranda Kent and I visited him at the bank yesterday morning. If you or Sara will stand behind the loan, he’ll do it.”
Beth had no idea what Sara would or could do. Robert had been playing some bizarre financial games that worried the SaBe accountants. But Beth did know her own position. “What’s the projected cost?”
“Seven million, more or less. Mark Taylor told Sara cottages would be safer than a traditional apartment building, but either way she goes, seven should cover costs.” Darla hiked her brows. “Reduced, of course, by however much I can wrangle out of these stuffed shirts.”
Seven million was a lot of money. Butterflies swarmed in Beth’s stomach. “I’m in.”
“Then I’d best get busy.”
Some of the tension lifted from Beth’s shoulders. “I appreciate it, Darla.”
“It’s a good cause,” she said with a little grin.
“Good for the soul too,” Beth said as Darla stepped away.
Nathara tapped Beth’s arm. “Don’t you love it when the two go hand in hand?”
“Excuse me?”
“Soul work and good causes. When they come together.”
She’d overheard their conversation. “Yes, I do.” Even Nathara had left her mean streak at home tonight. Thank You! “Glad you could come. How’s Nora doing?”
“She’s fine. Finally dozed off just before I left. Annie’s fluttering around, making sure no one disturbs her, and that Mark is like a personal bodyguard.”
Envy etched into Nathara’s tone. It didn’t look good on anyone, but it seemed doubly odd coming from a woman who looked so much like Nora. Identical twins could be so different. “They love her and she’s mourning. She and Clyde were inseparable.”