Angels Don't Cry

by Amanda Stevens

  The night was still and cloudless, with the day’s heat still rising from the paved parking lot. Ann paused on the concrete steps outside the brightly lit entrance to let Drew take the lead. His arm caught her elbow, automatically and unconsciously, as he guided her toward his car.

  The Jaguar gleamed darkly beneath the purplish glow of the overhead lights that lit the parking area. The lines were sleek and classic and slightly dangerous-looking—like the man who drove it. Ann let her eyes roam admiringly over the car, reluctant to make the transference to Drew.

  “Like it?” he asked, smiling at her silence as he stood leaning against the door, arms folded across his chest.

  Ann lifted her gaze to meet his. “It’s gorgeous,” she said honestly, her eyes slipping inadvertently over the familiar contours of his face.

  “Would you like to go for a ride? I’d be happy to take you home,” he suggested hopefully.

  “Thanks, but I have my own car. Besides, I want to stay with Donna awhile longer.” She paused, her eyes flickering up to meet his. “She’s putting on a brave front, but she was really terrified earlier. I don’t know if you know this or not, but she’s had two miscarriages in the last three years. If anything happens to this baby—”

  Drew’s hand reached out and touched her arm. “She’ll be all right, Ann.”

  The warmth of his touch was like a blanket of comfort. She wanted to wrap herself in it, snuggle against it, and forget all her cares and worries. The man who could so easily drive her to a blazing, consuming passion could also soothe her with just a soft word or a mere touch.

  Ann swallowed hard against the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. “I—I had to stay with her.”

  “Ann,” his deep voice drew her gaze like a magnet. “I understand.”

  “So do I,” she said softly, her voice trembling slightly. “Finally. Drew, I’m so sorry for what happened to your baby. Yours and Aiden’s. I should have told you that a long time ago, but I couldn’t bring myself to talk about it... It must have been horrible for you both.”

  Drew’s gaze slipped away from hers. He stared, unseeing, at the rows of cars lining the parking lot. How could he tell her about that night or any other night he’d spent with her sister? How could he tell her about the lies, the threats, the constant torment his life had been? How could he tell her the reason that he’d stayed with Aiden for so long was because she’d tried to commit suicide twice when he’d walked out on her? How could he tell her that, when he couldn’t bring himself to care anymore what happened to Aiden, she’d threatened him with something even more dire? Ann had a right to know everything, but God help him, he couldn’t bring himself to tell her just how sick her sister had been. He’d taken so much from her already. Telling her the truth now would probably seem like one more betrayal to her.

  His features were stark and sharpened by the strange light, the grooves around his mouth deep and harshly defined. He looked, not old of course, but somehow aged, with the wisdom of hard-learned lessons etched relentlessly on his face. For the first time Ann became aware of just how thin his defenses were. He’d accused her of living in the past, but obviously he had memories of his own he hadn’t dealt with.

  Why were they doing this to each other? Ann wondered in despair. Why were they torturing each other with memories when it was so much easier to pretend there was never anything to remember?

  How much better to have let things simply drift along, destiny spinning her life one day at a time until the past, present and future were irrevocably woven together, one thread inseparable from the rest. How much easier to look back from a distance and view their lives—hers and Drew’s and even Aiden’s as that of characters in some ancient, passion-driven tragedy where lost love and betrayal were romanticized in poetry and love songs. How much easier to continue her life in the safe, cloaking mists of what might have been rather than face the bright reality of what was—the waiting, the uncertainty, the years of killing loneliness.

  The same thought passed across Drew’s features and with it, an almost instant denial. He stared at her, his features set with new resolve. “Can I call you when I get back?”

  “When will that be?” Ann asked, dodging the question. She let her gaze focus on the red flash of the emergency room light. It seemed like a garish stage prop for the drama unfolding between her and Drew.

  “By the end of the week. Certainly before the Fourth.” He hesitated for a moment, as though unsure how to proceed. He said slowly, “You may have already heard this, but if not, I’d like to be the one to tell you. Mayor Sikes has asked me to speak at the barbecue. I’ll be giving some specific details about Riverside’s future plans.”

  Ann cut her eyes back to his. “He called me this morning,” she said calmly. “What you may not know is that he also asked me to speak. I’ll also be giving some specific details about Riverside’s future plans.”

  Drew’s brows shot up in surprise. When he spoke, his voice sounded oddly excited. “A debate?” He appeared to consider the notion for a moment, then he flashed her a quick grin with a hint of the old devilry. “Winner take all?”

  Six

  “How much have I missed?” Ann asked as she hurriedly took a seat in the stands next to Donna Cooper and her sister, Kelly. Ann had been working on her speech all morning and had completely forgotten about the annual Fourth of July softball game between Crossfield and their arch rivals, Crystal Falls.

  “Almost all of it,” Donna grumbled, keeping her gaze trained on the field. “It’s the top of the ninth, they have two outs, two men on, and they’re leading by one. Where’ve you been, anyway?” she asked in a slightly accusatory tone.

  “Working.” Ann turned her own attention to the field, quickly scanning the players. Jack was pitching, Wayne Cooper was playing first, Nathan Bennett second—

  The loud whack of cowhide connecting with wood brought her attention back to home plate, then upward where the high, arcing ball headed for deep center field.

  Beside her, Ann heard Donna and Kelly catch their breath as the ball began its downward arch. The center fielder, in jeans and a white T-shirt, took several running steps backward, his head tilted upward, his eyes on the ball. With an easy, graceful movement, he made a leaping catch, and the crowd in the stands went wild.

  Donna and Kelly were laughing and clapping and hugging each other excitedly, but Ann had gone suddenly quiet as she watched the center fielder jogging toward the dugout.

  A stray puff of arid wind caught the brim of her hat and snatched it from her head. Like a fiery veil, her hair spilled across her shoulders and down her back. Behind her, two preschoolers shouted and shrieked as they dashed for her spinning hat, but Ann didn’t notice. Her eyes never left the tall, muscular figure entering the dugout. Slowly her hand lifted to remove her sunglasses.

  Donna squeezed her arm excitedly. “Now that’s more like it!” she said with satisfaction. “I knew he could do it!”

  “He—”

  Donna grinned smugly. “Drew, of course.”

  Drew! And she hadn’t even known he was back! Obviously calling her hadn’t been one of his priorities. She told herself it didn’t matter in the least, but she couldn’t help feeling slightly deflated as she watched him take a seat in the dugout.

  “I didn’t remember Drew Maitland being so hot!” Kelly added conspiratorially as she leaned around her sister to speak to Ann.

  “Maybe that’s because you were only a kid when he left town, and a tomboy at that,” Donna remarked dryly.

  “I can’t imagine I was ever that much of a tomboy...”

  Their conversation droned on, but Ann was only vaguely aware of it. Her eyes were inexorably drawn to the wire mesh dugout where she could see Drew sitting at the end of the bench, one knee drawn up while he watched the game. He’d taken off his cap, and a lock of dark gold hair fell across his forehead. He looked young and strong and capable, and something echoed in her mind—a memory or a dream that lingered and haunted
, and suddenly her anger slipped away.

  It might have been yesterday...except it wasn’t. The time was the present, here and now, and Ann was feeling an odd excitement in the pit of her stomach, the kind she’d gotten years ago when she’d watched Drew play ball.

  The first Crossfield batter flied out to loud cheering from the Crystal Falls’ bleachers. The second batter, Nate Bennett, struck out. Angrily, he slung the bat away as he stomped off the field, flipping a one-finger salute to the visitors’ stand, where the jeers and catcalls grew even louder. They were already dancing in the stands in anticipation of their eighth consecutive victory.

  Ann sat quietly, her gaze following Drew as he moved to the on-deck circle. He selected a bat and took a couple of practice swings. The stretchy fabric of his T-shirt tightened over his arms and along his shoulders as his muscles boldly responded to the action. Ann felt something awaken inside her, an awareness that she had fought so hard to deny. She only had to close her eyes to remember the images of heaven she’d once found in those arms.

  Reluctantly she tore her gaze away and tried to focus on Jack, who stood at the plate.

  “Come on, baby, do it for me!” Kelly shouted, her voice easily carrying over the dull roar of the crowd.

  Jack took the first pitch and sliced the ball neatly between the shortstop and the third baseman, then easily rounded first to land on second. The crowd in the Crossfield stands was ecstatic, especially Kelly as she jumped to her feet, screaming and applauding.

  The action in the bleachers was suddenly as hot as that on the field, with the taunts and insults between the opposing fans becoming more and more graphic with each passing minute.

  One man on, two outs, bottom of the ninth and trailing by one. That was the situation that faced Drew as he stepped to the plate and stooped to grit his hands with dirt.

  It’s just a game, he reminded himself as he turned to face the Crystal Falls’ pitcher. But he knew it wasn’t. Crossfield was hungry for a win. That win now depended on him, and, except for that one catch, he hadn’t been playing worth a damn all day.

  Hell, he didn’t know what he was doing here in the first place. He’d come out to the ballpark earlier with the mayor to watch the game and had suddenly found himself on the field. The only good thing about the whole fiasco was that Ann hadn’t shown up to witness his lackluster performance.

  Every time Crossfield had been at bat, he’d searched the stands for her, remembering how she’d never missed one of his games when they were in high school. Back then she’d been his biggest fan, and she could make him feel ten feet tall, just by being there rooting for him. He’d always told her she was his inspiration when he played well, his consolation prize when he played poorly.

  Times change, he thought, feeling a keen sense of loss.

  The first ball was low and inside, but he swung anyway, his concentration completely lost.

  “Strike one!” the umpire yelled behind him.

  Patience! Drew commanded himself angrily. Wait for it! God, if he’d learned anything in the last ten years, it should be that.

  The next ball curved to the outside and he let it go by.

  “Strike two!”

  He whirled in disbelief. “That ball was outside a mile!”

  “Strike two, batter,” the umpire told him blandly.

  Ann watched the exchange with her heart in her throat. It’s just a game, she reminded herself. But she knew it wasn’t. The crowd was screaming in both stands. The Crossfield fans and players were counting on Drew to pull the game out. If he couldn’t do it, Ann knew his pride would take a bashing. It might be just a game, but she knew he was taking it seriously.

  “You can do it, Drew!”

  The voice, her voice, registered with Drew just as he saw the ball leave the pitcher’s hand. He swung hard, and the moment he felt the resistance against the bat, he knew the ball was gone.

  Pandemonium was the order of the day as he rounded the bases and crossed home plate. The whole team was waiting to congratulate him. After seven years of famine, Crossfield had finally harvested a win. The celebration was going to be a long and hard one, judging by the collective jubilation of both players and fans.

  The crowd streamed from the bleachers and surrounded them as they walked off the field. Someone had backed a pickup truck near the bleachers and sat a cooler on the tailgate. Ice cold beers were being passed all around amid gales of both feminine and masculine laughter.

  Someone tapped Drew on the arm and he looked around and then down to find a sandy-haired, freckle-faced boy of ten or eleven staring up at him. Gravely the boy held out a scuffed softball to Drew.

  “What’s this?” Drew asked, holding out his hand to accept the ball.

  “It’s yours. I climbed over the fence and found it,” the kid told him. He grinned suddenly, his eyes squinting almost closed in the bright sunlight. “It’ll bring you luck.”

  “Thanks,” Drew said, turning the ball over in his hand. “I’d say it already has.” He tousled the boy’s hair, and the grin grew even broader before he turned and tore away to join his friends.

  “Hey, Drew, my main man,” Jack said as he ambled up to Drew and threw a careless arm across his shoulders. “This one’s for you.”

  Drew accepted the cold beer with a grateful grin. He lifted the bottle to his mouth, then halted the movement in midair.

  Angel was standing at the bottom of the bleachers away from the rest of the crowd, and Drew caught his breath. This was the first time he’d seen her with her hair down, and the sight was magnificent, almost mystical, like a flaming halo framing her face. Her eyes were misty green and softly glowing as her gaze connected with his from a distance.

  He’d often thought that if he could see Angel look at him that way one more time, if he could be her hero again for just one second, he could die a happy man.

  At that moment, though, the last thing he thought about was dying. He’d never felt more alive. He could climb mountains, swim oceans to keep that special look on her face.

  But what he really wanted to do, Drew realized, feeling the heat rush through his body, was to take her down to the river, where it was cool and shaded, and undress her slowly and adoringly, make love to her until ten years of loneliness had all faded away.

  Something in his eyes must have revealed his inner thoughts for Angel’s face altered. Her eyes softened even more and a blush touched her cheeks. And then she smiled at him.

  He returned her smile, feeling more confident than he had in years. He’d just hit a game-saving home run with his best girl cheering in the stands and damn he felt good. The last ten years, all the anger and bitterness, the aching throb in his right shoulder were all minor details. This was a moment to savor.

  “Drew! Congratulations! That was some hit!” Mayor Sikes parted the crowd around Drew and blustered his way through, his fat legs a splash of stark white between the hem of his plaid shorts and the top of his dark socks. He grabbed Drew’s hand and pumped it fiercely, forcing Drew’s attention toward him. “You just may have picked us up a few brownie points with that home run.”

  “Thanks, Mayor, but I doubt anyone will change their minds because of a ball game.”

  “You never can tell,” Mayor Sikes insisted, clapping Drew soundly on the back. “You never can tell. Yessiree, things are looking good. Plenty of good food and drink for tonight, folks excited over the game, the weather holding in our favor, and you saving the day with a spectacular home run.” He grinned broadly, winking at Drew as he rocked back and forth on his heels. “Perfect night for a few fireworks, eh, Drew?”

  My sentiments exactly, Drew thought as he turned back to the bleachers. But Angel had already slipped away like an elusive dream.

  * * *

  Ann sat motionless in her car as she stared down at the picture in her hands. When she’d first seen the folded piece of paper lying in the front seat of her car, she’d thought it a piece of trash. Completely preoccupied with her disturbing thoug
hts of Drew, she’d opened it up and stared at it for a moment before the impact fully hit her. Someone was sending her a message.

  The page looked as though it had been ripped from some sort of old religious book. The graphic scene depicted a fallen angel, her face contorted in agony, as she lay chained to the surface of a burning lake. The flames surrounding her leaped closer and closer.

  As Ann stared at the picture, she could almost feel the fiery heat, the writhing agony as the angel struggled to escape destruction. The picture was both beautiful and horrible, a scene that attracted even as it repelled, and Ann found she couldn’t stop looking at it.

  Her hands began to tremble as an unprecedented sense of unease surged through her. Whether the picture had been meant merely as a prank or as a kind of hidden warning, she didn’t know. But for one split second a wash of emotions that were not her own spilled over her—guilt, jealousy, animosity, anger, desperation. All there, all lingering inside the car with her as though whoever had left that picture had also left behind a part of their soul.

  With a gasping sob of breath, Ann wadded the picture into a ball and stuffed it deep inside her pocket.

  Seven

  The sun had gone down, and the light turned to a violet haze that settled like a fine mist over the river. The park was shadowy, lit only by the colorful strings of Japanese lanterns suspended through the trees, and sweetly perfumed by the tangle of wild honeysuckle growing along the steep riverbank. Every once in a while a stray breeze carried the tantalizing aroma from the barbecue grills that were manned by plenty of volunteers.

  It was a hot night, made even hotter for Ann by the floodlights trained on the bandstand. For the umpteenth time, she wiped her palms with a tissue she fished from her pocket as she waited for the proceedings to get under way.

  Her eyes scanned the crowd, roaming over the familiar faces she had seen that afternoon at the ball park—Jack and Kelly, Donna and Wayne Cooper, Nate Bennett, Mayor Sikes, Viola Pickles—all people she had known most of her life. But because of Drew’s proposals, someone out there—someone she knew—had deliberately left that picture in her car to frighten and intimidate her.