Born Innocent

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Born Innocent Page 22

by Christine Rimmer


  Claire didn’t tell her mother that if Joe had only been willing to let himself love her, even the iron will of Ella Snow couldn’t have kept the two of them apart. She only asked softly, “Is that all?”

  Ella, whose eyes had become suspiciously moist, took a tissue from her pocket and blew her nose. “Well, yes it is. Were you expecting more?” She dabbed at her eyes.

  “No, that’s enough. That’s...much more than enough.” Claire got up and crossed the short distance to her mother’s chair. “Oh, Mother, I...”

  Ella reached up her long arms and pulled her daughter down. The women held each other. Ella spoke against Claire’s hair, “I love you, dear. And I’m proud of you, too.

  Never forget I’m here for you, that you can turn to me, as long as there is breath in my body.”

  “Oh, Mother. Thank you. I won’t forget.”

  “Good, then. And I like to hope that, whatever’s wrong between you and Joe, you’ll work it out. You will, won’t you?”

  Claire straightened up. “I don’t know. Let’s just.. .wait and see, okay?”

  “In other words, ‘Mind your own business, Mother’?”

  Claire gave a weary chuckle. “Something like that.”

  “Well, I’ve done my part.” Ella blew her nose and wiped her eyes one more time. “The rest is up to the two of you, I suppose.”

  Claire didn’t answer. She set to work carrying the dishes to the sink.

  That night, Claire and Ella sat companionably in the living room watching a movie on the VCR. The bell rang out front, and Claire told Ella she’d get it.

  She went through the door to the lobby and found herself looking into Joe’s strange golden eyes through the glass in the top of the door.

  Her heart turned over in her chest. And she longed, for a split second, to duck and hide from Joe as she had done that night after they’d arrested her for shooting Henson. But this time she didn’t hide. She knew what he had come for.

  And she knew that, at last, the time for absolute truth was upon her.

  Chapter Seventeen

  He took her to the ranch.

  Ella was absurdly delighted to see them go. She helped Claire pack an overnight bag and urged her daughter to “Just stay there as long as you like, dear. I’m all set up here, anyway, and there’s no reason I have to leave. You just enjoy a little time away....”

  When they pulled into the yard, the dogs were there, wriggling and whining. Claire made much of them, and then, carrying her overnight bag, she followed Joe into the house. Inside the door, she set the bag down. She was sure that if she did stay the night, she’d be sleeping in the guest room. But she didn’t want to get into all that—the sleeping arrangements that seemed so banal and yet told so much-right then.

  She thought she felt the quick brush of Joe’s glance when she set the bag down, but he was behind her. It was probably only her imagination.

  He said, “How about a beer?”

  She started to shake her head, remembering the baby. But then she said yes, anyway, knowing she’d take no more than a sip or two. Somehow, to say no seemed an open admission that she was pregnant, and though she’d be telling him within moments, the urge to go on protecting her secret was still with her.

  He went to the kitchen and came back with two long-necks. “It’s a beautiful night. Let’s go out on the porch.”

  She took the cold, sweating bottle. His fingers brushed hers lightly. The touch tingled all the way up her arm. “Sure. That would be nice.”

  They went out and sat side-by-side on the glider. The dogs came sniffing up, walked in circles, and lay down, with little wuffs of contentment, nearby.

  The moon was a last-quarter crescent over the dark trees. Claire could hear crickets and the lazy croak of a single frog. Somewhere far away, a coyote howled. In the back pasture, Demon, nervous at the predator’s cry, let out a long whinny.

  Joe began it. He took a long pull off his beer. Then he said, “It’s time to talk, I think. About the baby first of all.”

  Claire gave up any pretense that she would drink her beer. She bent and set it beside the glider on the porch. Then she sat up again and looked down at her hands, then back up at the moon.

  “Lord,” she said. Her voice was hardly more than a whisper. “This is even harder than I thought it would be.”

  His voice was gentle. “I figured, when you said ‘the baby’s all right,’ that you meant you were pregnant.”

  Claire managed a weak sound of assent.

  He went on, “And then, when you wouldn’t take your pain pills, your mother became suspicious, too.”

  “Oh, God...” She glanced at him, then away. “Patty swore she wouldn’t say a thing.”

  “She didn’t. But last Friday you had a full physical, including a pelvic exam. Lorna let your mother see the bill.” Lorna Dell was the clinic’s office manager. “And don’t blame Lorna,” Joe insisted. “Your mother had been handling all the paperwork up until then, so Lorna just assumed—”

  Claire waved a hand. “I get the picture. You don’t need to say any more. What I can’t believe is my mother hasn’t said a word to me, except to tell me that she was wrong about you all these years and that she hopes we’ll...” Her voice failed her. She finished lamely, “Work out our problems.”

  Joe actually chuckled. “She’s sure we’re going to find happiness together.”

  Claire sighed. “Tonight, if at all possible. Am I right?” Suddenly, her mother’s eagerness to see Claire drive off in Joe’s pickup with her overnight bag on her lap made a lot of sense.

  Joe nodded. “Yeah, she wants us to work things out. For the baby’s sake, if nothing else. At least that’s what she told me.”

  Claire wished she could melt into a puddle and sink through the porch boards. “Oh, God. What exactly did she say to you?”

  “She told me in no uncertain terms that you never had a thing to do with Alan Henson—so the best thing for everyone would be if I owned up to my responsibility and gave the baby my name. Someone like me, she pointed out, who was born out of wedlock, should surely understand that what a child needs most of all is two parents committed to giving him or her a decent start in life.”

  “Oh, Lord. That sounds just like her.” Claire’s face was flaming. She was grateful for the shadows of nighttime. She couldn’t look at him. Staring off toward the tall trees beyond the road, she said, “She’s afraid you’ll think the baby might be—”

  “I don’t.” He put his hand over hers. “I knew there was nothing between you and Henson from that day in your living room when you told me so.”

  Still not quite able to meet his eyes, she looked down at their entwined hands. “Thank you,” she whispered, moved beyond measure to realize that he still trusted her. In spite of everything, even knowing about the baby, he still trusted her. She had said there was nothing between her and Henson, and he believed, still believed, without question, that that was so. Perhaps there was hope after all....

  But then she quelled such crazy, impossible thoughts. Just because he believed the baby was his didn’t mean he was longing to marry her.

  She forced herself to speak. “Joe, I’m sorry about my mother. It’s just... the way she is. If there’s going to be a baby, she wants me to have a husband.”

  “Even if the husband in question is that dangerous, trouble-making loser, Joe Tally?”

  Claire looked at him then. She gaped at him, actually. After all they’d been through, after all he had done for her, didn’t he realize yet how absolutely first-rate, how incredibly, fantastically wonderful he was?

  She jumped to her feet, almost upsetting her untouched beer and causing Gonzo to whimper and raise his head in doggy consternation. She marched to the porch rail and whirled to face him.

  “That is it, I have had it. If you don’t stop putting yourself down...” She had no words to describe the horribleness of what she would do. She sucked in an indignant breath. “I hate when you do that.”

&
nbsp; He set his empty beer on the porch and stood up. Slowly, he came toward her.

  Down in her stomach, a hundred butterflies took flight. It was crazy, but the look in his eyes was the same look he’d given her the night they’d made the baby. It was a look of heat and wanting....

  Oh, Lord, it wasn’t possible. But it was happening. He was coming closer. He was not withdrawing. He was not shutting her out.

  When he was less than a foot away, he reached out and touched the side of her face. She felt the warmth of that caress, the cherishing gentleness of it, through every inch of her body. He murmured her name. “Claire...”

  She made a soft, questioning sound. “Joe... ?”

  His hand moved downward, over the fine column of her neck. It glided light as a breath over her still-bandaged shoulder, down the swell of her breast, until he could cup that breast.

  He said hoarsely, “Your breasts. I think... they’re fuller than that first night. You’re so beautiful, Claire. With our baby inside you...” He thumbed her nipple. She felt it blooming. She released a long, slow sigh.

  “I waited,” he said, as he continued to touch her, his hand cupping and stroking her breast and then gliding up once more, to caress her neck, her face, to smooth back her hair. “I waited, until you were well enough. It was hell, I’ll tell you, coming back here alone every night, when all I wanted was to hold you, to be with you.... But I knew your mother would care for you, and I thought it would be better, since your mother’s so old-fashioned and I wanted to show respect for her. But now, it’s enough. I don’t want to wait anymore...”

  She let her eyes droop half closed, thinking how she’d missed him, blocking out all thought of the future, as she’d always done with Joe. With Joe, there was no future. There was only tonight....

  And then he said, “Marry me.”

  The world froze on its axis. A clean shaft of joy pierced her heart. But the joy didn’t last.

  After all, a marriage proposal was no more than she’d expected. She’d always known he’d offer to marry her. Just because he was doing it in such a beautiful, sensual way, didn’t mean he really wanted the marriage.

  She sidestepped, enough to send a clear signal that she didn’t want to be touched right then. He dropped his caressing hand. She returned to the glider and took her seat again. He leaned on the railing, waiting, watching her. “Well?” he asked warily. “Do I get an answer or not?”

  “Oh, Joe.” She bit her lip. “How can I do this to you? You’ve always sworn you never wanted marriage, and yet here you are, trying to do the right thing by a woman who chased you for twenty years, and then just happened to get pregnant the first time you made love with her.”

  “The condoms were too old,” he said levelly. “I thought so even then. But I wanted you, so I took a chance.”

  “I had my doubts about them, too.”

  “So we were both a little bit to blame.”

  “Joe, I made a big deal about how it was my ‘safe time’—”

  “Was it?”

  “Yes, but-”

  “So you told the truth. And nature overrode you. Maybe we both should have been wiser, but we weren’t. It was both of our faults. So we’ll get married and share the responsibility for what we created.’’

  “Oh, Joe. It wouldn’t be fair to you. I’ve always known where you stand on the subject of marriage. I asked you to marry me twice, remember? Both times you said you would never get married—or bring innocent children into a rotten world like this is.”

  He shook his head. “You still don’t get the whole picture, do you?” He hitched a leg on the railing, folded his hands on his knee and looked down at them. “But, hell, why should you? I’ve spent twenty damn years trying to keep you from seeing it.”

  “What?”

  He looked up at her, and then he rose and came to sit beside her again. She felt the warmth of him, the strength, and she had to steel herself not to lean against him. She turned her head enough so that she could stare off over the trees again.

  “Look at me, okay?”

  “Okay.” She met his eyes.

  He admitted, “Yes, I’ve always said I wouldn’t bring a kid into a world like this one. But now the kid is coming in spite of what I said. It’s a done deal—and I’m finding it doesn’t seem like such a bad idea after all. The last few days I’ve been thinking it over. And I’ve decided that after what I had as a kid, I want my kid to have a hell of a lot more. And I think, between the two of us, we can give him—or her—more. So you’re right, at least partly. I do want to marry you so our baby will have two parents, just like your mother said. But, damn it, Claire. Even if there was no baby...” His voice, for the first time that evening, seemed to fail him.

  Claire stared at him. She sensed what was coming. But how dare she actually believe it? “What? What? Oh, Joe, do you mean—?”

  “Hell, I...”

  “Yeah?”

  “Well, all these years, while I’ve been constantly reminding you that we are friends and no more, I’ve been...”

  Claire realized she was holding her breath. She let it out slowly. “You’ve been what?”

  And he said it. “I’ve been in love with you.”

  Pure joy flooded her then, and this time it didn’t fade.

  Joe continued, “But I’ve always known you could do a hell of lot better than a guy like—”

  “Don’t say it.” She pressed her fingers to his lips. “Don’t ever say it again. There is no one better. You are good, and loyal and strong and kind. You’re the man I love.”

  He shrugged. “Whatever.”

  She frowned. “ ‘Whatever.’ What is that supposed to mean?”

  At last he reached for her, pulling her close, urgent, but also careful of her injured shoulder. He spoke against her hair. “It means I’m through fighting it. It means, after twenty years, I’ve finally given up trying to convince you to stop loving me. I surrender, Claire.” He pulled back enough that she could see his face. “We are much more than friends. We’re lovers, and soon we’ll be husband and wife. And then, before you know it, God help us, there’ll be this kid looking up at us, calling us Mom and Dad. That’s how it is. Learn to live with it, okay?”

  “Yes,” she murmured. “Yes, yes, yes...” Her hands slid up to circle his neck.

  He kissed her. For a brief eternity, there was nothing else in the world but the night and two lovers and the sweet promise of their desire.

  At last, though, the kiss came to an end.

  “I want us to be married right away,” he told her. “And I’ve been checking into becoming the police academy’s oldest living graduate. Brawley’s going to help me. What do you think of that?”

  “I think it’s good. Wonderful. Terrific.”

  “I’m glad.” He looked at her tenderly for a moment, then continued. “I’ve got some money put aside, not a lot, but some. It’ll be a challenge, I know—newly married, with a baby coming, and there you’ll be, with your husband off in school. But I think we can manage, somehow.”

  His expression turned rueful. “I can’t offer you a perfect, mapped-out life, Claire. I wish to hell I could. But, damn it, I love you. And the time has passed when I can make myself leave you alone. So maybe we should just accept this... thing between us, and get on with our lives.”

  She grinned at him. “Joe, you can stop convincing me. I said yes five minutes ago.”

  With a muttered, “Thank God,” he grabbed her close once more.

  Claire melted against him, at last allowing herself to believe that it had all come out right after all. Their baby would have his time of innocence, protected by two people who loved him with all their hearts. And she would spend the rest of her life where she’d always longed to be: at Joe Tally’s side.

  The world was as she had always believed. A place of beauty and goodness—if a person was willing to seek the goodness. And to fight for it against all odds.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter O
ne

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

 

 

 


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