“And we surely do want that,” added Jolene.
“The doctor said that…to both of you?” Vivian’s sharp voice rose in question. She glanced from Jolene to George and back again, eyes narrowing.
“Yes, ma’am,” George replied.
“Oh, dear. I knew something wasn’t right. We should have met long before today.” Her glance rested on Mark. “Just what has our son gotten into?”
“Vivian!” Charles Warner’s tone combined warning and exasperation.
The woman’s eyes flashed, and her mouth snapped shut. She nodded. “Very well. For now.”
Her warning reverberated around the table. The subject would be reopened.
Kathy seemed frozen, her complexion as pale as parchment. Heather, on the other hand, could feel her body heat approach boiling point. She shifted slightly in her chair and eyeballed Mark’s mother. But before she could say anything, Mark stood up and brought Kathy with him. He stroked her face. His hand trembled. “I adore you,” he said. “I love you with all my heart.” And he kissed her in a way that left no doubt about his feelings.
Heather put two fingers in her mouth and whistled loudly, country club be damned. Dave tapped his water glass with his fork which emitted a ringing sound. Soon Jolene and George did the same. The people at the surrounding tables started to applaud. The sound must have penetrated, because Mark lifted his head, surprise etched on his face. Then he grinned. A big bear of a grin.
“We’re getting married!” he announced in a voice that swept the room. “Champagne and dessert for everyone, on me!” The response was more than Heather could have imagined. The whole stately dining room broke into applause and congratulations. Some people came over to chat with the couple. Kathy began to laugh and mingle, back to her normal self, which was all Heather wanted to see.
She glanced toward Vivian whose smile remained in place while she greeted friends who had no idea what had transpired prior to Mark’s announcement. The woman was trained to play her part. A moment later, Heather got up. She wasn’t through with Mrs. Warner.
Dave whispered, “Don’t pull her hair out in public.”
Hair pulling wouldn’t be painful enough. She approached the other woman when the last well-wisher had gone. “Your son,” she said, not giving Mark’s mother a chance to escape, “was fortunate enough to fall in love with my sister, a woman who’s pure gold.” Heather picked up a dish from the table and pointed to the design. “Not gold plate that loses luster like this. You are extremely lucky to have Katherine in your family. I advise you not to blow it, or you might be left wondering what your grandchildren look like.”
The woman blanched. “Which, of course,” Heather added, “would be Mark’s doing because he’s devoted to Kathy…and would want to protect her from you.” She turned and left the woman standing alone.
“Mrs. Warner looks ill,” said Dave, rising when Heather approached. “What did you tell her?”
“Oh, nothing important.” Heather waved her hand with an airy motion. “Just a little something about never seeing her grandchildren.”
He whistled long and low. “Show no mercy. ’Atta girl.”
“Oh, let the woman stew. She deserves it.”
He raised his hands in a gesture of defeat. “No argument there.”
Heather moved closer to him and tilted her head up. “What’s more,” she whispered, “her husband heard every word I said and didn’t interrupt.”
“Well, he’s sure speaking to her now.”
Sure enough, Dave was right. “I hope his words are effective,” she said. “Kathy deserves every happiness.”
“Only Kathy?” Dave asked quietly, his arms around her. “What about you?” His glance lingered on her face, his eyes dark with feeling.
She didn’t know what to say. “What a question.” She laughed self-consciously. “I don’t know. I…I…guess I’m already happy.”
“There’s nothing missing? Nothing more you want?” Dave reached for her hand. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
Heather looked around. A number of people had left their tables and were dancing in the adjoining room. “I never noticed the dancing.”
“You were distracted.” He led her to the dance floor and slipped his arms around her. She leaned against him, felt his lips brush against her hair, heard him sigh. “Heather…Heather…”
She understood. Nodded her head against his chest. “Yeah. This is nice.”
And it was. He held her, but not too hard, as though she were precious to him. Her thoughts flowed and wandered. Slow dancing was a great invention. Just the two of them in their own private world. No parents. No work issues. Nothing but the music and the dancing. Getting used to each other. His strong back and hard chest. Did he feel her softness against him?
She felt his hand travel slowly down her spine and pause where her hips started to flare. She heard him inhale sharply. Felt the tempo of his heart quicken. Then, just as his hand had done, her palm made lazy circles on his back, little by little drifting lower down to his waist…enjoying the play, enjoying the exploration…until she bumped into something hard. And the mood vanished.
“You’re carrying!”
“WHY DON’T YOU JUST ELOPE?” Heather asked later that night, sitting on Kathy’s bed watching her pack a few items. “It seems to me families make things harder.”
Mark was in the kitchen waiting and visiting with George and Jolene, who’d had a wonderful evening. Kathy had decided to go with Mark—to calm him down. Despite Vivian’s apology, he was still very upset. Or maybe anxious to reinforce that she was his one and only.
“If it were simply a matter of Mark and me, we’d escape in a minute. I certainly have no family to insult by not having a big wedding. And while Mark’s family is much larger, half the guests will be business people. It’s important to Mark and his dad. I’m not going to interfere with that.”
Heather shrugged. “I’d elope.”
But Kathy shook her head. “Sometimes, you do what’s best in the long run. What’s best for your husband’s career. Just think of my wedding as networking,” she said. “His dad started the business, and Mark’s dedicated to it.”
“Just as long as he’s dedicated to you.”
Kathy’s grin lit up the room. “I don’t think he’s through raging at his mom yet, but I’ll handle her from now on. She simply took me by surprise tonight. I’d thought she was coming around in recent months, getting used to the idea that Mark didn’t fall in love with a society girl. I guess our folks shook her sensibilities. I’ll give Vivian credit for a beautiful apology, but she won’t catch me off guard again.”
“A beautiful apology, huh? How beautiful?” Nothing less than genuine tears would do for Heather.
Kathy raised her eyebrows. “Very heartfelt, I think. A bit embarrassed of course. But, yes, I think it was sincere. She wants peace and love in the family, too.”
Heather gave her sister a hug. “You’re still such an idealist.”
Kathy put her hands on Heather’s shoulders. “Without hope, Heather, what have we got?”
BY THE TIME HEATHER arrived in the kitchen, Kathy and Mark had gone. Her parents were chatting quietly with Dave. “Will you two be all right here by yourselves?”
Her dad started. “Aren’t you going to stay?”
Heather couldn’t decide if he wanted her company, or simply felt uncomfortable in new surroundings. “You both did great tonight. I know it must have been difficult with the champagne everywhere.”
“Not too hard, honey,” said Jolene. “And worth every minute.”
“Champagne was never our beverage of choice,” added her father. His eyes sought the cabinet where Heather had put the whiskey she’d bought the night before. “Now, Jack Daniel’s…well, that’s another story.”
Heather couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Tempted, George?”
“Every day,” he said. “But I haven’t touched a drop in two years. Two years.”
Dave�
��s gaze shifted from one to the other, then he crossed the room. “And you won’t be touching it tonight.” He took the whiskey out of the cabinet. “Anything else in the house?”
She got the wine from the fridge. “That’s it.”
“Leave them!” George boomed. “I’m not a child. And no one said this was easy.” Perspiration trickled down his face.
“But no one said make it harder than it has to be,” Jolene replied quickly. She stood before her husband, a hand on his cheek. “What are you trying to prove, Georgie? Right now, Heather doesn’t matter. Only the next hour matters.” She appealed to Dave. “I’ll pour both bottles down the toilet if you leave them here. Save your money. Take them.”
“Yes, ma’am. Come on, Heather. I’ll give you a ride to the shelter.” It was an order, not a question.
But her feet were rooted. Her parents were still a team, but now playing for a different league. “Why?” she whispered. “What happened that caused you to try?”
Her dad lifted his gaze to her. “Short version—I was driving drunk with Mama in the car. I crashed, and she wound up in the hospital. Broken ribs, broken arm. Internal bleeding. I went to jail. Couldn’t make bail. Couldn’t visit her. I almost lost her.” He looked over her shoulder, out at the dark night. “I almost lost my Jo.” His gravelly voice trailed off. “But worst of all, I couldn’t remember any of it. And that’s when I knew.”
He shook his head. “Come on, Jo. I’m tired.”
It was Jolene who saw Heather and Dave out the door. “We’ll be fine.”
“For now,” said Heather.
“That’s right,” Jolene replied. “And now is what I care about.”
She closed the door, and Heather and Dave stood outside without speaking while they listened to the lock turn. They ambled toward their vehicles.
“They shouldn’t have had children.”
Dave stopped and gently pulled her to him. “I’m grateful they did.”
“But you don’t know…” Her voice choked, and she blinked to prevent tears from falling.
“Oh, I think I can guess,” said Dave softly, nuzzling her neck. “I’ve seen the human condition in all its forms—the best and the worst. But mostly, I’ve seen the worst.”
She imagined a cop usually did. “That’s some job you have.”
“Don’t throw stones, my girl.” He nibbled her earlobe and whispered, “You survived them. That’s what matters.”
She relaxed against him. She had survived. And done well.
“You’re strong,” he added. “I like that you fight for what you’re doing, what you believe in.”
His approval warmed her.
“…as long as you use good judgment.”
Instantly, she put more space between them to see his expression. “According to whose point of view?”
“Is there any question?” he asked in mock surprise. “Mine, of course.” He put the two bottles in his truck, then opened the passenger door for her.
“I’m working at Girlfriends tomorrow. I can take my own car.”
He shook his head. “Nah. It’s late. I’ll pick you up in the morning, and I’ll put in a few hours at the place. Can’t refuse an offer like that, can you?”
Well, no. “Pretty clever, Officer.”
He chuckled. “I’m sneaky when necessary.”
His fingers skimmed her jawline, and she nuzzled his hand. Then she reached up to caress his cheek. A full moon provided pale light, and all around them, it was quiet. She saw the tenderness in Dave’s eyes and something more, something exciting, but tempered. Want? Passion? There would be time to find out. Now, she enjoyed the peacefulness between them. The comfort. Until Dave whispered, “I’d put my life on the line for you, Heather. I hope you know that.”
Her heart pounded. She pushed away from him. “Don’t say that. Please. Don’t scare me. I don’t want anyone’s life in danger because of me.”
“Shh… Shh. It’s just my way of saying I…uh…care about you.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “Very, very much. I guess I’m used to that expression.”
She heard what he’d almost said. Was glad he’d changed the verb. Love. God, that was a strong word. It could be wonderful, of course. But it also made people act crazy. Like her parents. Love and dependency. Sick. She worked with dependent women every day, helping them find confidence and learn the skills they needed to rely only on themselves. She’d never put herself in a situation where she’d depend on any man for survival. But here was Dave, offering himself up, talking about his life.
“Slow down,” she said. “You’ve already put yourself out there for me. I’ve gotten my fair share of Dave McCoy’s personal lifesaving service. So you can stop now. And take care of yourself.”
His kiss came quick and hard. Then he opened the passenger-side door for her. “In you go, sweetheart.”
Despite her reservations, she liked the sound of “sweetheart.” He’d called her that several times now. He was clearly making his feelings known to her, which made her feel special. Maybe because she really liked him. But… Somehow, there was always a but. Go with your heart, Heather. You already trust him. Just go for it.
Walking through the halls of Welcome Home a few minutes later, she thought about each woman in the shelter as she passed her door. Beaten up but not beaten down. Every one of them looking for help. By the time Heather reached her temporary apartment, she realized how ignorant she was about the one person who affected her life the most: herself. While her clients hung on her every word, she was afraid to follow her own advice.
“Maybe this is the part where some girls talk to their moms,” she murmured. “And others simply flounder until they learn to trust themselves.”
THE NEXT MORNING, Dave waited at McDonald’s drive-up window while the clerk filled two large cups of coffee. He knew how Heather liked hers—with milk, not cream, and a pack of sweetener on the side. Two boxes of doughnuts and a gallon of juice rested on the seat next to him. She’d appreciate the gesture. Most guys brought a woman flowers or candy. Or took her out to dinner. Heather, of course, was not most women. He’d win her over with doughnuts or kolaches or pizzas or whatever it took to feed her volunteer crew.
Heather put her heart into her work, establishing a home for girls. Girls, just like the girl she’d once been. After meeting her parents, he understood exactly why she did what she did.
He thanked the clerk, took a sip of his coffee and drove to pick her up. He wasn’t disappointed. Her eyes glowed when she climbed into the truck and saw the sweets. Her smile sent him into orbit. “God, you’re beautiful.” He breathed the words without a second thought.
“You need glasses?” she asked, shaking her head. “I’m dressed for work. Not a smear of makeup. But thanks a lot. I guess. And big thanks for the doughnuts.” She reached for her coffee and lifted the cap, lowered her face to inhale. “Oh, the first cup’s always the best. I don’t suppose you brought—”
“The sweetener’s on the seat somewhere.”
“This is perfect.”
He pulled onto the road and drove to the Girlfriends site. He wished they were taking a long ride out in the country somewhere. Just by themselves. “Guess we’re not the first ones here,” he said. “There’s my dad, Kathy, Mark and your folks. Dad must be excited about your project.”
“And I thought my family would all sleep in.” She sounded disappointed.
As he parked the truck, Dave said, “Seems like George did have a rough night. He looks tired.”
She shrugged as if she didn’t care. But he saw her forehead crease. “As long as his eyes aren’t bloodshot from booze.”
He didn’t comment. His own father had walked a thin line, too. It was one of the reasons for the divorce. Patrick had fallen into the habit of relaxing with the boys too often. Way too often. Until it had become routine and his mom couldn’t take it anymore. Those were rough days. He didn’t like thinking about them.
“Mark’s been generous to us,�
�� said Heather. “But this is the first time he’s been down here.”
They climbed out of the truck and Dave shook Warner’s hand. “Ready to roll up your sleeves, oilman?”
“That and more.” Mark turned to Heather and gave her a hug. “I like a woman who speaks her mind. And I especially like the woman who thinks I’m the luckiest man alive—because of Kathy. So, come on and give me a proper tour of this place, this dream you have. Maybe I can help make it come true a little faster.”
Dave watched Heather as Mark’s words sank in. Then she glanced at him with a question in her eyes. He understood. She didn’t quite believe what she was hearing. He nodded. “I think you’ve just gotten your first benefactor.”
“All right!” She took out the key and motioned to Mark. “Come on, Mr. Philanthropist, you might even have some ideas…” Their voices faded away, and Dave turned toward Kathy and the others.
“You okay?”
“Oh, yes. Definitely.” She couldn’t stop smiling.
“They don’t come better than my daughters,” said George. His glance followed his future son-in-law. “His old lady will come around. She’s blind, not stupid.”
Jolene nodded. “She’s a mother. She wants him to be happy. That’s—that’s the important thing. That the children be happy.”
To Dave’s surprise, Jolene started to cry.
“I think…I think,” she stuttered, “that Heather will be happy when we go home. She doesn’t really want us here.”
Dave looked around for an escape, but there was no place to hide outdoors. He was as brave as the next guy, but this was out of his league. As if by telepathy, a blue-and-white car rolled up and his buddy, Powers, got out. Dave covered a lot of ground in very little time.
“Looking for me? Need some assistance?” Powers would think he was crazy.
But the other cop simply shook his head. “Nope. But our karate kid might.”
Dave felt his adrenaline surge. He was on-duty, even if it was his day off.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE COPS ON THE WEST SIDE were idiots. Hank Landers got back into his car after showing his badge to an Officer Powers, working his beat. What was there in, “Help me find my depressed wife and two kids?” that Powers couldn’t understand? The guy barely heard him. Maybe his mind was on other things. But not when Hank needed information. He gave the cop a chocolate bar anyway. This disgrace-to-the-uniform would need a reminder of Hank Landers.
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