Homecoming

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Homecoming Page 9

by Rochelle Alers


  “She’s adorable, Lily.”

  Curving an arm around Dana’s waist, Lily hugged her. She wanted to tell Dana she was beautiful. Just like her mother had been. Lily always thought that Alicia Nichols was the most beautiful woman in all of Hillsboro. At least that was what all of the men used to say, much to the chagrin of their wives and girlfriends. Whenever Alicia walked into Mt. Nebo Baptist Church with her husband and daughter, all heads turned in their direction. Alicia always took advantage of any situation where she’d become the center of attraction. She’d slow her pace, smiling and nodding like a celebrity, until she was seated on a pew where prior Nichols generations had sat and worshipped.

  What Lily hadn’t understood was Dana’s unwillingness to acknowledge her own budding beauty. Even when everyone had remarked about her resemblance to her stunning-looking mother, Dana always denied the claim. It was as if she’d been ashamed of her looks.

  “Come, let’s sit on the porch,” Dana urged, leading the way across the living room. “Have you had dinner?” she asked, glancing at Lily over her shoulder.

  “I just came from Billy’s mother’s house. I ate so much I can hardly move. The woman’s idea of a snack is a four-course dinner.”

  Sitting on a slider love seat, one leg tucked under her body, Dana cradled Danella Clark to her breasts. The baby stirred, her tiny mouth making sucking sounds, but did not wake up. Holding the little girl close to her heart, and inhaling the clean scent exclusive to babies, evoked a foreign emotion of longing in Dana—a longing for her own child.

  She sat motionless, not knowing who or what had stirred her maternal instincts. She’d never felt the pull of motherhood, not even when she’d thought herself in love with Galvin.

  Lily, reclining on a nearby cushioned rocker, removed her sandals and rested her bare feet on a footstool with a matching cushion. Closing her eyes and pressing her head to the back of the rocking chair, she smiled broadly. “It’s as if we never parted, nothing has changed. You sit on the love seat while I take the rocking chair.”

  “Old habits are hard to break,” Dana countered in a soft, calming voice. “You look wonderful, Lily. I must say that marriage and motherhood agree with you.” The blending of Lily’s African and Native American ancestry was evident in the rich darkness of her red-brown coloring, curly hair, and tall slender body.

  Lily flashed a demure smile. “Thank you. I must admit that I’ve never been happier.”

  “When did you and Billy marry?”

  “Three years ago.”

  “What took you so long? You’ve been in love with him since grade school.”

  Lily stared up at the whirling blades of a ceiling fan for a full minute, and then said, “I wasn’t the first Mrs. William Clark.” She ignored Dana’s soft gasp of surprise. “Billy graduated high school, attended a college in Virginia, and was recruited by the FBI; after his graduation at Quantico, he met and married a forensic pathologist. He was assigned to a field office in Indiana, while his wife opted to remain in the D.C. area. It was only after Billy was transferred to Seattle that she followed him and they began living together as husband and wife. After fifteen years with the Bureau, he was promoted to a senior agent and transferred again. This time it was Los Angeles. Sandra, refusing to move again, returned to Virginia, filed for divorce, and remarried.

  “Billy came back to Hillsboro to bury his dad, stayed a month, then returned to L.A. Less than a year later he was back—this time for good. The mayor appointed him sheriff after Mr. Newcomb fell and broke his hip while running after a young kid who’d jumped over the counter at the Piggly Wiggly to steal a pack of cigarettes for his trifling, deadbeat father.”

  “How’s Sheriff Newcomb doing?” Dana had to ask, because Philip Newcomb had been the first person to come to Raven’s Crest to view Alicia’s body after Harry called to report her murder. The ex-sheriff would be at the top of her list once she began her round of interviews.

  Lily shrugged a shoulder. “He walks with the aid of a cane. His wife attempted to sue the doctor who set his hip, saying he botched the operation. She lost the malpractice suit, and complains to any and everyone who will stand still long enough to listen to her.”

  Dana mentally catalogued this information on the ex-sheriff. “How did you and Billy finally get together?”

  Grinning broadly, Lily told of Billy coming to pick up his nephew at the school where she taught second grade, promising he would stop by her house and catch up on old times.

  “The catching up included Billy coming to see me whenever he wasn’t working. He concocted the most outlandish excuses to stop by the school, claiming he was monitoring security.”

  Dana laughed, wrinkling her nose. “Security for an elementary school?”

  Lily sobered quickly. “It’s not that preposterous, Dana. We had an incident a few years back where a fifth-grader brought a gun to school with the intent of shooting another student because he’d spread a rumor about his older sister selling her body for drugs.”

  Shaking her head in disbelief, Dana said, “Whatever happened to kids settling their differences with their fists in the woods behind school property?” The most outrageous thing she and Lily had done was paint Hillsboro’s meanest man’s prize laying hen a bright blue on Halloween.

  Lily shook her head. “That’s a thing of the past. These kids will cuss you out, telling you quite explicitly where you can go, and then help you get there.”

  Dana smiled at her childhood friend. “You’ve done well, Lily. You always wanted to teach and you’ve accomplished that. And you always wanted to marry Billy, have his children, and you’ve also realized that.”

  Lily shared her smile. “I’m very blessed.” She waved a hand. “Enough talk about me. What’s been happening with you? Are you married? Seeing anyone? Do you have any kids?”

  Dana’s expression stilled, becoming somber. “No to all of the above. I was seeing someone for a couple of years, but it ended sometime ago.”

  “Did you ever go into nursing?”

  “No.” Her dream had been to become a nurse and assist her doctor in his practice. “I have an undergraduate degree in criminal justice and a master’s in journalism. I’m currently an associate editor for a weekly newspaper.”

  Lily nodded, smiling. “I can see you as a reporter, because you used to write the most fascinating stories.” They’d formed a club for which the girls developed a newsletter, and Dana had been selected as the editor in chief. “Where do you live?”

  “Carrollton, New York. It’s a small town not too far from Utica.”

  Lily told Dana that she’d asked her grandmother about her whenever she ran into her, but Georgia had never divulged any information about her granddaughter except to say she was doing well.

  “After Miss Georgia took you away, she stopped coming to church, mostly keeping to herself. She’d drive into town to shop, or go to the post office, but didn’t stop to talk to anyone. Everyone knew she went away for the summer, and we all suspected she went to see you, but no one could get up enough nerve to ask her where she’d been. Miss Georgia had a way of cutting her eyes at you that made you believe she would put a hex on you, your children, and your children’s children.”

  “You’re right,” Dana confirmed. “All Grandma had to do was give me the look and I got it together. She said the hardest decision she ever had to make in her life was sending me away, claiming she wanted to spare me the hurt and shame of everyone talking and pointing their fingers at me because of what had happened to my parents.”

  Lily shifted uncomfortably on the rocking chair. She stared at her daughter, cradled against Dana’s chest, rather than meet her gaze. “Do you really believe your father killed your mother?”

  It was a while before Dana was able to form a reply. “There were times when I said I didn’t know, but then there are the times when I can say with complete honesty that he couldn’t have. My father was a doctor. He’d taken a pledge to save lives. And no matter how angr
y he was with my mother, I never saw him physically abuse her.”

  Lily nodded in agreement. “I just couldn’t bring myself to believe Dr. Nichols would ever hurt anyone. He was always so nice to all of us.”

  Dana met Lily’s direct gaze. “I think I would’ve eventually recovered from my mother’s murder if my father hadn’t committed suicide. After I was told that he’d hung himself in his cell, I cried for days. I cried myself to sleep for weeks on end. My aunt had to put cold compresses on my eyes every morning before I went to school to keep the other kids from staring at me.

  “Then, one day, I realized Harry Nichols wasn’t worth my tears. I’d convinced myself that he killed my mother, and then took the cowardly way out by taking his own life. My resentment and frustration escalated to loathing because I believed he’d become so self-centered that he never considered how his suicide would affect me. I was in my twenties before I was finally able to talk about my fear of abandonment.” What she hadn’t resolved was the fact that she did not trust men.

  “I did my share of crying, too,” Lily admitted, her eyes filling up with moisture. “When I found out that Miss Georgia had taken you away to live with her sister, and that I’d never see you again, I cried so hard that I made myself sick. I begged Miss Georgia to give me your address, but she refused.”

  Dana wanted to tell Lily that her exile had been absolute, because her grandmother also refused to talk to her about her place of birth. Every summer when Georgia came north, Dana would ask her about Hillsboro, but would never get an answer to the questions she sought. After a while she stopped asking.

  Lily decided to change the subject. “How long do you plan to stay in Hillsboro?”

  “I’ve taken a four-month leave. I’m expected back October first.”

  Lily’s eyes narrowed. “Do you think it’s going to take that long for you to close up this house?”

  “I doubt it. I’ve extended my stay because I want to go over the proceedings of my father’s trial.”

  Lily sat up straighter. “You plan to reopen your mother’s murder case?”

  A slight lifting of an eyebrow was the only movement from Dana as her gaze bore into Lily’s shocked one. “Convincing the State of Mississippi to reopen the case will only become possible if I uncover enough evidence that will prove my father’s innocence.”

  Changing the subject, they talked for another forty-five minutes, dissolving into paroxysms of laughter when they recalled some of the pranks they’d pulled on unsuspecting classmates and Dana’s crush on Ross Wilson, Jr. A rush of heat singed her cheeks when she recalled how tongue-tied she’d become whenever she encountered the handsome young boy.

  Lily said Ross, Jr., who’d lived in Miami since graduating college, had returned to Hillsboro four years ago to take over his father’s real-estate business. Ross, Jr., had brokered the deal that brought the car-manufacturing plant to Hillsboro, thereby increasing the region’s job base. Talk was circulating that residents wanted the wealthy, young bachelor to run for political office in the next mayoralty election.

  Handing Danella back to her mother, Dana walked Lily to her car, waiting until the baby was strapped into a car seat in the rear of the late-model sedan, then hugged and kissed her friend.

  “When am I going to see you again?” Lily asked.

  “Do you plan to go to church Sunday?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve decided it’s time I give Hillsboro something to really talk about. I’ll be at the eleven o’clock service. We can talk afterwards.”

  Lily chucked. “I’m going to get there early just to see everyone’s reaction.”

  “You’re bad, girlfriend,” Dana crooned.

  “No worse than you,” Lily retorted, laughing.

  Hugging Lily again, Dana waited for her to start up her car and back out of the driveway, waving until the car disappeared from view. Several cars were parked in driveways, but no one could be seen outside the eight houses lining the dead-end street. The heat had kept most people either indoors, or in air-conditioned offices or malls. Her grandmother’s house did not have any air conditioners because Georgia complained the artificially cooled air was not conducive to her arthritic fingers. The crippling affliction had shortened her career as an accomplished seamstress and dressmaker. By her fiftieth birthday Georgia had stopped sewing altogether. She’d used the extra money to supplement the pension and widow’s benefits she’d begun collecting following her husband’s accidental death.

  Dana turned to reenter the house, but stopped as she heard the sound of a car as it came closer. Looking around, she saw Tyler Cole maneuver into the driveway and turn off the engine to a black two-seater BMW roadster. Smiling broadly, he winked at her as he stepped out of the racy vehicle, shutting the door behind him with a solid slam.

  He’d changed out of the shirt and slacks he’d worn earlier that morning into a pair of black linen walking shorts and matching short-sleeved shirt. Dana felt her mouth go suddenly dry when she glimpsed his strong legs and bare feet in a pair of imported woven black leather sandals. She was staring, but she couldn’t help it. The black hair on his arms and legs, and the display of more crisp hair revealed by the open-necked shirt, shocked her with what had become a blatant exhibition of virility.

  He took two long strides, stopping inches from her. The clean scent of his aftershave washed over her, weakening her knees. Closing her eyes briefly, she willed herself not to move. Her lids fluttered wildly before she was back in control.

  “How did it go?” Dana did not recognize her own voice.

  Tyler flashed a dimpled smile. “Wonderful. Mother and baby are doing well.”

  “What did she have?”

  “A boy. A beautiful, healthy perfectly formed son.”

  Tilting her chin, she gave him a defiant look because she did not want him to know that she was lusting after him, that her whole being seemed to filled with a wanting she hadn’t known—until now.

  “Why are you here, Tyler?”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “I told you I’d be back.”

  “You did not have to come back,” she countered in a soft, no-nonsense tone.

  “Yes, I did, because I want you to help me celebrate.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Celebrate what?”

  “The delivery of the first healthy baby in my study. This baby’s mother was the first woman whose pregnancy I confirmed once I took over as medical director at the clinic. I’ve followed her from the very beginning of her confinement to delivery. Her son proved a little stubborn when he refused to enter the world by the conventional vaginal method, but what’s important is that he’s here and he’s healthy.”

  “You had to perform a C-section?”

  Tyler nodded, smiling. “Well, Miss Nichols?”

  “Yes, Dr. Cole?” Her voice was as soft and seductive as Tyler’s.

  “Are you going to help me celebrate?”

  “What do you have planned?”

  “I’d like to begin with a drive in the country. Then we can stop and take in a few sights.”

  “Are you sure about a drive in the country?” she asked. “What if you’re paged?”

  Holding his arms out from his sides, he turned around slowly. “See? No pager and no phone.”

  “What did you do with them?”

  “I left them at home. I got another doctor to cover for me.”

  “But … but I thought—”

  Tyler placed a forefinger over her parted lips, stopping her words. “Don’t think, Dana. Please, just lock your door and come with me.”

  She went completely still. “You like giving orders, don’t you?”

  He looked at her, his gaze widening. “No. I don’t like giving orders.”

  “But you do. At least with me.”

  His lids lowered as he bit back a smile. “I’m sorry if that’s how you perceive me.”

  “I don’t think you’re the least bit sorry.”

  “Oh, but I am.” His expression mirro
red sincerity.

  “I still don’t believe you.” Unconsciously, her brow furrowed. “I’ve tried to dissuade you from seeing me, but it is apparent you’re quite willful once you want something. Don’t say I didn’t warn you if you compromise your reputation by being seen with me.” Turning on her heels, she walked back into the house to retrieve her handbag and keys.

  Tiny lines fanned out around Tyler’s eyes as he smiled at her retreating figure. She looked delicate and extremely feminine in a dress. The soft cotton material clung to her curvy body, offering a hint of what lay under the fabric.

  Did he want to see her naked?

  Yes!

  He wanted her naked and writhing under him in a passion he hadn’t experienced in months; he wanted to caress the softness of her skin, inhale her delicate feminine scent, feel her heat, and taste her—everywhere, and he wanted to map her body with his hands and mouth until she was imprinted on his memory for an eternity.

  Did he want Dana Nichols?

  Yes! Despite her warning to stay away from her, his need to make love to her intensified with each second he spent with her. A muscle throbbed noticeably in his jaw as he clamped his teeth together. He whispered a silent vow. He’d always gotten everything he’d ever wanted—and in that instant he knew he wanted Dana Nichols, not just for sex. That he could get from any woman.

  He wanted her just because of what he’d believed she’d become to him—his female counterpart.

  Eight

  Tyler held the passenger-side door open for Dana, waiting until she was seated and belted in before closing it. Rounding the convertible sports car, he slipped in behind the wheel, secured his own belt, and started it up with a minimum of motion. A rush of cool air swept over his face and body as he backed out of the driveway.

  Within minutes he drove away from the cul-de-sac, heading for the local road. Several feet ahead of him, flashing red lights and ringing bells signaled the approach of a train coming from a westerly direction. He slowed, knowing he would not be able to make it across the grading before the freight train.

 

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