by Brenda Novak
Crumpling the message in his fist once again, Garth thought of Gabe and cringed. Since the accident, Garth was the only person Gabe would open up to. If Lucky told anyone what she most likely knew, it would destroy his relationship with his son. Gabe would retreat even further into himself. And what about Reenie? Hardheaded, outspoken Reenie would conclude that she didn’t know her own father. She’d hate him.
And for good reason. His torrid affair with Red had lasted nearly two months. He’d betrayed them all, again and again—just for a little of the raunchy, sweaty sex his wife abhorred.
Panic clutched at Garth’s chest, and he scrambled to loosen the blasted tie that seemed to be choking him. So what if those two months were his only indiscretion. So what if he’d tried to compensate his wife and children for his foolish blunder, tried in a million different ways. They wouldn’t realize that. And he couldn’t, wouldn’t, disgrace Celeste or himself by telling his children how dissatisfied he’d always been with her on a sexual level.
So what, then? What did he do?
Dropping his head in his hand, he sighed heavily. He had to call Lucky before she tried to contact him again, or started spreading what she knew. For Gabe and Reenie’s sake, he had to move quickly.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LUCKY HAD HER HEAD and part of her upper body in the cupboard beside the stove when the phone rang. Since Mr. Sharp had stopped work for the holidays, she’d been cleaning the nooks and crannies of the house and doing some of the painting.
“Hello?” she said, grabbing the phone on its fifth ring.
“Ms. Caldwell?”
Her breath caught in her throat. It was a voice she didn’t recognize, an older, gravelly voice she felt sure belonged to Senator Holbrook.
“Yes?” she said hesitantly.
“This is Garth Holbrook.”
God, she was right; she had him on the phone. This man could be her father. Of the three possibilities, she had her hopes pinned on him.
But what now? What did she say?
“Ms. Caldwell? Are you still there?”
“Yes, I’m here, sorry.”
“I got your message.”
And now she had the audience she desired. She could hardly believe it. “Senator Holbrook, do you know who I am?”
“Yes.”
She couldn’t read the emotion behind that one word, but she sensed something far from passive. “Well, first off, I want to assure you that I’m not trying to make trouble for you or anyone else.”
“Of course not,” he said.
The sarcasm in those words made Lucky rush to explain. “I found your name listed in my mother’s journal from twenty-five years ago, and was just—”
“She kept a journal?”
“Yes.”
He swore softly under his breath, and Lucky winced even though she’d expected him to be upset. How many men wanted the fact that they’d broken their marriage vows recorded? And he was a politician, which made him especially vulnerable.
“How much do you want for it?” he asked.
“Excuse me?”
“How much are you asking for the journal?”
“I’m not asking anything for it. It’s not for sale.”
“Then why did you call?”
Lucky gathered her nerve. “I was hoping that maybe you’d be willing to…to take a paternity test.” Curling her nails into the palm of her hand, she squeezed her eyes shut as she waited for his response.
“You’re kidding. You think there’s a chance…No. That isn’t possible.”
“Actually, you were with my mother right around the time I was conceived and—”
“Listen, I’m not your father. I might have been a fool, but I wasn’t irresponsible enough to get her pregnant.”
“She told you she was on the pill, right?”
Fear dug deep into Holbrook’s soul—Lucky could feel it through the phone, could almost hear him asking himself if Red had lied about birth control. But what she’d intimated only made him angry.
“What’s the real story here? Morris’s money isn’t enough for you? Now you’ve got to come after me?”
“I’m—”
“Just tell me what it’s going to take to make you leave me alone. A hundred thousand? Two hundred thousand?”
She couldn’t respond right away. Despite all the self-talk of the past few months, she must’ve hoped for a better response because she felt crushed by the anger and contempt in his reaction. “I don’t want your money,” she said softly and hung up.
THE MUSIC FROM the Honky Tonk spilled into the street every time someone opened the door. Lucky was drawn by the beat of Toby Keith’s “I Love This Bar,” and the happy voices that both sang and competed with his recording. Yet she hung back in the shadows of the tavern’s porch, wondering if she was doing the right thing by coming here. The Honky Tonk was a popular local hangout where she could chance upon just about anybody, which was why she’d avoided it until now. But she knew it wasn’t wise to stay at home alone. Especially after her disappointing telephone conversation with Garth Holbrook this afternoon. She’d secluded herself for too long as it was. She needed to be around people, even if those people were from Dundee and didn’t care much for her. Even if she was just an onlooker. Besides, she didn’t have to worry about anyone being unwelcoming. At this hour, most of the Honky Tonk’s patrons would be too drunk to bother with her. She’d waited until nearly eleven o’clock just to insure it.
“You comin’ in, little lady?”
A tall man in a taupe cowboy hat had spotted her and held the door expectantly.
Little lady. Mike had called her that her first night back in town.
A grudging smile claimed Lucky’s lips as she finally emerged from the deeper recesses of the porch. Dundee was so different from the cities she’d visited, particularly back East—Boston, New York, Philadelphia. No one ever said “little lady” in those places.
“Thanks.” She drew a deep breath before stepping into the dark, noisy tavern.
Someone from a table to the right immediately hailed the man who’d held the door for her. He tipped his hat at her before striding off to join them, and she hurried to the bar, where she planned to get lost in the crowd and enjoy the heat and energy of the place. But no sooner had she taken a seat than Jon Small tapped her on the shoulder.
“Hey, I’ve been hoping to run into you again. How’s it goin’?”
Lucky glanced longingly at the college football game playing on the television to her left. “Fine, and you?”
“My ex is suing me for more child support, but other than that…”
“I’m sorry your divorce has been so difficult.”
His face darkened. “I never would’ve expected it from Leah. She was always so…mousy. Couldn’t even decide where to go for dinner.” He shook his head. “I guess people change, huh? I just never saw it coming.”
Lucky had no comment. She didn’t know Leah, and the bartender was moving in her direction.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
She ordered a glass of wine, but as soon as the bartender turned away, Jon invited her to dance.
Lucky didn’t want to get out in front of people. She craved some of that anonymity she’d enjoyed at half the sports bars across America. But he was already tugging on her hand.
“Come on. You’re the prettiest girl in town, and I could use a little distraction.”
His slurred words told Lucky he’d had quite a bit to drink. She was afraid it might cause more of a scene to tell him no than to simply dance with him and get it over with.
Allowing him to lead her to the edge of the floor, she looped her arms loosely around his neck. Faith Hill was singing now and the tempo had slowed.
“How do you like being back?” he asked.
“It’s great,” she lied.
“There’s no place like Dundee.”
A quick glance at his face told her he meant it. “I guess.”
�
��There’s room to breathe out here, to spread out, to be yourself.”
“Maybe if your father’s name is Dave Small,” she muttered.
He grinned. “I guess it doesn’t hurt that my father’s something of a local celebrity.”
“Do you admire him a great deal?” she asked, suddenly hoping Garth Holbrook wasn’t her father, after all. Maybe it was Dave Small or even Eugene Thompson….
“I guess. He was strict growing up, but he’s mellowed a lot.”
“I’ve never met him.”
Jon jerked his head toward some tables by the jukebox. “He’s here tonight. I can introduce you if you like.”
Lucky thought she should give herself time to file away Senator Holbrook’s rejection first, but she didn’t have the opportunity to speak to Dave every day. And it wasn’t as if she’d mention her mother or the journal. After this morning, she had no further plans to take the direct approach. She’d just say a few words, see what Dave was like….
“Okay,” she said.
She and Jon spoke little after that, but when the dance ended, he pulled her along behind him toward the table he’d indicated a few minutes earlier.
Dave looked up when they approached, and so did Smalley, who sat on the other side of his father. Smalley’s incredible size made it easy for Lucky to recognize him, although she hadn’t seen him in years. He hadn’t been present at the family gathering she’d watched last Sunday.
Two other men had just left the table to play billiards. Jon yanked out one of the empty chairs and waved Lucky into it.
“Who have we here?” Dave asked when she sat down.
“Lucky Caldwell,” Jon said. “She wants to meet you.”
Dave’s smile tightened the moment he heard her name. At Jon’s added comment about her wanting to meet him, the warmth fled his eyes. “You must be Red’s daughter.”
Lucky noted the condescension in his voice and refused to drop her gaze. “Yes, I am.”
“I heard you were back.”
“Who from?”
He shrugged. “Can’t remember. It’s my business to know what’s happening in our little town.”
Lucky couldn’t see how her return could possibly affect anything at City Hall and was quickly coming to realize why Booker Robinson had called this man arrogant.
The mysterious Eugene Thompson suddenly seemed like the best father candidate Lucky had. She could already tell she didn’t want to be related to Dave Small. “Is my being here a matter of public concern?” she asked.
Dave took a drink of the clear liquid in his glass, which had to be tequila. Lucky could smell it from where she sat. “I guess it is to the Caldwells,” he said. “And the Hills.”
“You’re friends with them?”
“We speak now and then.” He leaned a little closer. “And I have to tell you, I don’t understand, any more than they do, why the hell you’d come back here.”
Finally Jon seemed to notice that his father’s conversation with Lucky wasn’t all that friendly and stopped grinning like a fool. “Here, I’ll buy you a drink at the bar,” he told her, standing up and taking her elbow.
Lucky jerked out of his grasp. “I have every right to come back,” she told Dave. “I own property here.”
“Not as much as they do. And what you do have should belong to them.” He took another drink. The clack of his glass hitting the table served as his exclamation point.
“Morris must’ve wanted me to have the house or he wouldn’t have left it to me,” she said.
Dave chuckled. “Yeah, that mama of yours…” He whistled. “She was a smart one, wasn’t she? Figured out how to work a situation to her advantage.”
“You should know,” Lucky said, lowering her voice even further. “You visited her often enough.”
When the color drained from Dave’s face, Smalley knew he’d missed something significant and leaned forward, over his huge stomach. “What’d you say?” he asked, his dark beady eyes darting curiously between them.
Jon had been standing up, out of earshot. He seemed to care more about getting Lucky away from the table than hearing what he’d missed. Maybe Dave could afford the luxury of being choosy, but after his painful divorce, Jon was obviously too lonely for snobbery and made it quite clear that he didn’t want his father to offend Lucky.
“You don’t know that,” Dave growled to her alone. “I don’t ever want to hear you say something like that again. I’ll deny it to my dying day.”
Lucky stood and moved close enough to whisper in his ear. She didn’t plan on using her mother’s journal as a weapon, had no intention of causing trouble here in Dundee, but she couldn’t resist putting Dave Small in his place. “Deny it all you want,” she said calmly. “I have proof.”
LUCKY WAS SO ANGRY she could feel the blood rushing through her veins. She wanted to stalk out of the bar and head home immediately, pack her belongings and leave this town—forever. But she refused to let anyone chase her away. Especially a hypocrite like Dave Small. And she knew after rambling from one place to another that she wouldn’t feel much more satisfied anywhere else.
She could feel Dave’s heated glare on the back of her head as she sat at the bar, feigning indifference while she sipped her wine. She glanced over her shoulder a few times to challenge that glare, just so he’d know she wasn’t intimidated, and ended up catching Jon’s eye a time or two instead. He’d tried to follow her when she left the table, but his father had commanded him, as if he were a dog, to stay. After a brief moment, when Lucky thought Jon might actually defy Dave and earn a bit of her respect, he’d slumped into a seat at his father’s elbow.
“Can I get you anything else?” the bartender asked.
Lucky didn’t drink much, but she was certainly drinking tonight. She wouldn’t allow herself to leave until the Smalls did, and she needed something to occupy her hands. Especially when she realized that Mike Hill was sitting over by the billiard tables. She didn’t know if he’d come in before or after she did, but she definitely knew he’d spotted her. Almost every time she looked up, she caught his eye in the mirror behind the bar.
What a night, she thought, wishing she’d stayed home after all. She ordered another bourbon, and when a young cowboy approached and asked her to dance, she decided to pretend she was having a damn good time.
IT WAS MIKE’S JOB to entertain clients when they flew in from out of town. Ever since Josh had gotten married, Mike had more free evenings than his brother did and generally enjoyed taking folks out to eat or over to the Honky Tonk for a few drinks. But he wasn’t in the mood for billiards or darts tonight. He wasn’t even in the mood for conversation. Not since he’d seen Lucky walk through the door.
He let his focus stray to the dance floor again, where she was swaying to a slow song with a handsome man at least ten years younger than he was—and wished it wasn’t bothering him that they seemed to be dancing a bit too close.
“Why so quiet?” Gabe asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
Mike pulled his gaze away from Lucky. Gabe had let the incident in the diner go without comment, but there was still a great deal of tension between them. Mike suspected that he’d only agreed to accompany him tonight because their guests were a father-and-son duo from up in the panhandle who had a lot of land and even more money—perfect fund-raising targets.
“I’m a little tired.” And feeling old, Mike added silently. Watching Lucky move to the music in the arms of a much younger man reminded him that there were fifteen years between them—a decade and a half. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the shoulder he’d injured in a rodeo accident several years back suddenly began to ache.
He needed to get his mind off Lucky and the memories they’d so recently created, memories in which he felt anything but old. “You think they’ll contribute to the campaign?” he asked, jerking his head toward his guests, who were taking on Vern Pruitt and Cliff Peterson in a game of pool.
Gabe considered the four men surrounding the billiards tabl
e and shrugged. “They said they’d like to meet my father in the morning. I guess we’ll find out then.”
“Sounds fair.” Mike’s gaze returned to the dance floor to see Lucky sidling up to her partner for another dance.
Damn, he hated it.
“Mike?”
“What?” Mike masked the frown tempting the corners of his mouth and looked back to find Gabe studying him closely.
“The redhead you’re watching is Lucky Caldwell. You know that, don’t you?”
Mike wasn’t likely to ever mistake Lucky for someone else, not since that first night when he’d pressed her up against the wall. “I know. I’ve already bumped into her a couple of times.”
“Then why are you so fascinated with her?”
“I’m not fascinated with her.”
Gabe’s eyes sparkled with mischief for the first time in months, but Mike could hardly take it as a victory over that damn wheelchair when his friend’s amusement came at his expense. “She’s attractive, don’t you think?”
Mike could tell it was a loaded question, so he sidestepped it the best he could. “She’s young.”
“I didn’t ask about her age.”
“It matters, don’t you think?”
“I think what matters more is that you’re avoiding the real issue.”
“Which is…”
“You can’t get involved with her. Your parents, your whole extended family, would disown you.”
Mike wondered what Gabe would say if he knew the truth. He’d already been “involved” with her in the most intimate way. And Lucky could have shouted it from the rooftops. But she hadn’t. She’d kept it to herself and acted as though it had never happened. He still couldn’t figure out what had drawn her to his room in the first place. Why did she wait all those years and then slip into his bed? If he hadn’t been monitoring his thoughts so carefully, he would’ve asked her that night they’d decorated the tree.