by Nancy Gideon
It seemed like a good idea.
At least until the banker snagged her arm and swung her into the side of the car with enough force to rattle brain and bone. Dazed, she felt herself manhandled around so the door of the Buick could open. Propelled inside its dark stifling heat, she fell face first upon the scorching black vinyl but immediately was scrambling for the other door. She kicked against the hand on her ankle, gratified by a fleshy impact and dire curse. She fumbled for the handle. It wouldn't open. Panicked, she reached for the lock, popping it, pushing the heavy door open, spilling out onto the gravel just as Doolin charged across the seat after her.
Right into the big bore of Zach Crandall's revolver. The banker looked up in disbelief to see the lawman's wide satisfied smile.
"Going somewhere?"
* * *
Chapter 20
« ^
Pinned by the ice blue stab of Zach's gaze, Ted Doolin scuttled backward only to discover the other door blocked by Lloyd Baines's bulk.
"Git outta there, Ted," the sheriff snarled. "You ain't going anywhere but to jail."
While Baines dragged the submissive banker out of his car, Zach risked a quick glance downward. "Are you all right, Bess?" He heard her soft sob of breath, and a killing quiet took control of his voice. "Did he hurt you?"
"No, no, just a little banged up, but okay."
The sound of her shaky words let the knot in his belly out a notch, but he was still wired tight as a fence line. "Sorry I'm late. I just got your message."
Bess tipped back, dropping on her fanny in the hot driveway, leaning back against the open car door to grin up at him with a wobbly relief. "Your timing was just fine."
Sitting there all scraped and trembly, still managing to look as composed as a Sunday schoolteacher, Bess Carrey made his heart kick start back into its regular rhythm. A tensile steel threaded through her fragile figure. Her eyes were huge, tired, scared. And brimming with accomplishment as she said, "We got him."
He didn't know whether to strangle her or grab on and never let her go. If he gave in to the latter idea now, he'd forget the rest of the world existed. So he held on, remembering procedure, clinging to his discipline. Trying to keep himself from blowing a hole through Ted Doolin the size of a hubcap for making Bess Carrey cry.
Only she wasn't crying. Not even close.
"Zach—"
He heard a million meanings in her quiet tone and he would listen to every one of them. Later. When he could give her his undivided attention.
"Go inside, Bess. I'll have Doc Meirs come over and take a look at you while I book this sonofabitch for murder."
"Murder?" Doolin rounded on him, white-faced and furious. "You can't—"
"I can. Two counts of attempted on Bess and one full boat for my father."
"But Joan killed him."
"Hit him, yeah. But she didn't kill him. Doc's got some interesting theories that you wouldn't let him explore seventeen years ago. Says the first blow knocked him out but it wasn't fatal. It was the second one, delivered with more strength than a woman like Mrs. Carrey could have managed, that caved in his skull."
"You're the last one who should be crying over that. You wanted him dead, too."
Zach failed to react to his baiting with emotion. Instead, his statement was coolly candid. "I'm not arguing that. I'm just saying you should have been man enough to admit it instead of letting my mom do your time. You could have worked up something, smart man like you, that would have made it look like self-defense."
"But I was the mayor of this town running for reelection and you—you were nobodies."
Zach's features firmed to cut stone. "Not anymore. See how far your credentials get you in prison. Get him the hell out of here."
Baines grabbed the banker's arm, hauling him down the drive to where his squad car angled across its end. Zach relaxed his grip on his revolver and replaced it in his holster. Picking up the box of damning evidence, an odd sense of disappointment overcame him. He frowned. He thought restoring his family name would bring a light from above or something, some grand sign that all had changed. But he felt no different than an hour before or a day before. And he suddenly realized it was because all the changes affected the past, not the future. Only one thing would do that.
He glanced around, but Bess had already gone inside.
"Crandall, the meter's running."
Scowling down at Baines then glancing back at the house, Zach began to walk toward the street, uncomfortable with the feeling of things unresolved.
He'd be back to settle them. Later.
* * *
Holding open the cell door, Zach let Baines do the honor of pushing Doolin inside. The clang of the lock sounded very permanent. Baines gave Zach a sideways glance and grumbled, "Guess you think I owe you some kind of apology, don't you?"
"No. Just some explanations."
"‘Bout what?"
"It always bothered me that you thought I was the guilty one and still you never made any attempt to find me. You rushed my mother to trial so fast, I have to question that due process was served."
"Her trial was legal, boy. Regrettable, it turns out, but judge and jury made the calls, not me."
"Is that because you were sitting on some of the evidence? Deputy, would you relieve Sheriff Baines of his side arm, please?"
A beefy hand slapped over the top of the holster. "What are you, nuts, Crandall?"
"My dad was blackmailing Doolin, and I imagine those papers Bess has will tell me why. But I know my father. He wasn't too bright and he was a greedy SOB. He wouldn't have settled for a piddling two grand twice a year. So I figure someone else must have been holding him back."
Inside the cell, Doolin chuckled wryly. "Give it up, Lloyd. I'm not the only one going down for this."
Baines glared at the banker. "I didn't have nothin' to do with killing Crandall."
"Yeah," Doolin sneered, "but you were in on his blackmailing scheme. How'd that happen? He offer up that juicy bit of scandal to get himself out of jail? Is that how you got to be his silent partner? Not too silent when you got me to back your reelection campaign. Not too silent when you shushed up the murder investigation so none of your dirty dealings would surface. The one bright side in this whole mess is knowing that you'll never get another red cent out of me, you parasite."
The deputy moved Baines's hand and slowly took possession of his firearm.
* * *
When word circulated that Zach Crandall not only had Ted Doolin in jail but Lloyd Baines stripped of his badge pending investigation, he became an instant celebrity. A status that wore hard on a man with other things on his mind.
His plan was to stop in at Sophie's to assure his sister that everything was under control and to call his mom to arrange for Faith to remain there until he and Bess had a chance to talk. Like most best-laid plans, his was quickly shot to hell.
The customers at Sophie's descended upon him, battering him with questions and compliments he would have enjoyed at any other time. But not now.
The fickleness of the town's loyalty bemused him. He'd thought Baines and Doolin their leading heroes. Come to find out, he wasn't alone in his dislike of their bullying ways. With the cell door shut, more and more citizens were willing to come forth, expressing their regret over what his mother endured. Hard as it was, Zach vowed not to feel bitter. The people of Sweetheart weren't guilty of anything a little honesty couldn't cure. They'd been led astray by the wrong men long enough. All were just waiting for the chance to make amends.
It was his town. His home. And he'd be damned if he'd give any reason for hard feelings to continue.
But even as the farmers and businessmen pumped his hand and clapped his back, he was mentally gauging the amount of damage control needed to clean up the toxic spill of words he'd spewed in Bess's kitchen. While the senior ladies, led by the blushing school librarian, expressed apologies over their rush to condemn—something he'd never in his life expected to hear, l
et alone from the upper crust of Sweetheart's hierarchy—he nodded and smiled and wondered how long it would take to work his way toward the door to slip their attentions. Even Mayor Anderson put in an appearance, politically shrewd enough to plant the germ that Sweetheart would be needing a new sheriff—someone inside their community. At first Zach didn't realize he was the one targeted until Howard nudged him slyly to the delight of his future voters. But even the long-sought sense of inclusion couldn't hold him when heart and mind were fixed upon a certain gutsy bookstore owner across the square.
"That's something to think on, Howard. But right now, if you'll all excuse me, I've got some busi—"
As he spoke, he heard another jingle of the front door. More well-wishers, he thought with a groan as Lorraine and Myrt cleared the way like bulldozers in orthopedic stockings. Clearing a path so Bess Carrey could approach him.
Thoughts of escape disappeared. Thought, itself, eluded him as he watched her come closer, closer until they were toe-to-toe right in front of everyone in the crowded diner. Close enough to see the small abrasion on her chin. Close enough to lose himself forever in her smoky gaze. Close enough to think about her petal-soft lips as they parted.
Close enough for her to have only one thing on her mind.
He took a startled step back then her hands were on either side of his face holding him still. And she kissed him. Not a chaste peck of gratitude but a full-contact, tongue-thrusting, heart-stopping kiss that left him too dazed and surprised to do anything but stand there, hands limp at his sides, brain limp in his head, while other parts of him were anything but.
She stepped down, a sassy smile inviting him to make something of it, as her wrists locked behind his neck. Her eyes searched his without a trace of playfulness, her stare somber, worried, even frightened.
Then he realized why. She came to him, making a grand statement of devotion, while not sure he'd accept or return it.
Her faith, her courage, dropped his pride to its knees.
He made no attempt to lower his voice when he said, "I love you, Bess. Always have, always will. I came home for you. We've got some talking to do."
As he followed her out the door, Zach heard several very distinct comments. His sister saying, "It's about time." Lorraine Freemiere hushing Herb Addison's grumbles with a curt, "You had your chance, so quit your bellyaching." And town crier, Alice Barbor, sighing, "I always said they'd make a beautiful couple."
* * *
Sun slanted across her mussed bed, glowing soft and warm on the two of them as they lay side by side beneath the occasional caress of the oscillating fan. Her fingers twining through the whorls of black hair on Zach's chest, her bare foot rubbing along the coarse length of his calf, Bess was content in body but yet anxious in mind.
"Zach?"
He made a questioning noise but didn't open his eyes.
"There are some things you need to know."
He turned his head to look at her then. "I know Faith is our daughter." And while Bess struggled for some way to explain that wouldn't hurt him any more than she already had, he smiled, a slow, sexy, satisfied smile that had her heart flip-flopping. "She's terrific. We did good, baby, didn't we?"
The tender stroke of his fingertips along her suddenly tear-dampened cheek encouraged her to return his smile. "Yes, we did. She's the best of both of us." She caught his hand and pressed her lips to its broad palm before continuing. "Zach, I never ever even once considered—"
He silenced her with two fingers. "If I'd been thinking straight, I'd have known that. Seeing that entry in my dad's log—I didn't know what else to think at first. If I hadn't decided to leave, would you have told me?"
She wouldn't lie to him, not now, not about anything.
"I don't know, Zach. I'd like to think I would have, but I just don't know. My mom found out. She took me to that doctor to confirm it, and she wanted me to get rid of it—of Faith—right then and there. I couldn't, Zach. I just couldn't. She was part of you, part of us.
"Mom was furious. You'd have thought I was the only woman since Hester Prynne to conceive out of wedlock." She tried to smile but the gesture was unnecessary. It was no use trying to convince Zach that she hadn't been terrified, both morally and emotionally, of the position she'd found herself in. So she quit trying. Her sigh was ragged.
"We came up with a compromise. Or rather she came up with one, and I didn't have much choice. I'd finish school, then I'd go away and have the baby and put it up for adoption. And I'd never see it or you again."
He got very quiet in mood and voice. "So that's why you let me go."
"No. I let you go because I thought I was doing the right thing. If I'd told you, you'd have stayed and been honorable. I never doubted that for a minute. But there was nothing for you in Sweetheart, Zach, and I couldn't make myself ruin your future. I'm not going to try to second-guess what might or might not have happened. I let you go, and I've had to live with that decision, but it made me realize I couldn't let go of all you'd meant to me. I couldn't give up Faith."
So she'd called her sister who was married and settled, as much as Julie could ever settle in one place, in Des Moines. Julie did the rest. Her husband, Michael, suffered from juvenile diabetes, the disease that eventually claimed him. They'd been afraid to have a child of their own for fear of passing along that dreaded gene. Bess's request seemed an answer to their prayer. Michael arranged for the lawyer, and while the red tape was peeled back layer by layer, Bess graduated and went to live with her sister for the summer.
And in Sweetheart, Mary Crandall confessed and was imprisoned for her husband's murder.
"By the time Faith was born, all the adoption details were confirmed. I came home alone, and Faith stayed with Julie. The hardest thing I've ever done was staying away while she grew up. Julie was great. She sent pictures and letters and encouraged phone calls…" Her voice tightened as the lump of anguish in her throat increased, until it shut off further sound.
Zach said nothing for a long while, thinking how easy he'd had it, not knowing. Thinking of all she'd suffered alone to give him the opportunity to find the strength and the good inside himself. Characteristics she'd never doubted that he possessed.
"Baby, I've been in combat situations, I've had to take men's lives or lose my own, but I've got nothing on courage compared to you."
She shook her head, refusing the compliment. "I'm not brave, Zach. Look at all the damage I caused by not speaking the truth. I let my mother coerce me into not saying I'd been with you the night your father died. I kept silent and let your mother go to prison thinking she was protecting you. I thought she was guilty, Zach, or I would have spoken up. I would have."
"I know." But that reassurance couldn't absolve her.
"I let everyone continue to believe you were guilty to spare my own reputation. I let myself think more of this town's opinions than your feelings, after I swore to you that I wouldn't. That's not brave, Zach. I hid my head in the sand, and I'm not proud of it. And I don't expect you to forgive me for it."
The last thing she expected was his soft chuckle.
"Baby, I can't forgive you when I don't hold you to blame. I was the one who was ashamed of who I was. I was the one who was so weak I had to run away. You counted on me to be there for you, and I wasn't. That won't happen again, Bess. It won't."
She didn't dare look at him. She didn't dare speculate on what his words meant as he wrapped her up in his embrace and pulled her against him.
"What about Faith?" she asked, knowing that was one part of the past they couldn't ignore.
"What does she know?"
"That Julie's her mother and I'm her Aunt Bess and you're the gorgeous bad boy who roared into town to shake the dust off her favorite aunt."
She felt his grin against her hair. Then he grew serious once more.
"Guess that'll do for now, at least until we get married and talk to Julie. She's done way too much not to be included now. Think she'd mind us taking Faith over
the summers while she does her globe-trotting?"
Bess came up on her elbows and was staring into his face, hers pinched with uncertainty.
"What?" he asked, slightly alarmed. "You don't want her over the summers?"
"I want to know how you could slip something like 'until we get married' into a sentence and just keep talking."
Zach gave her an exasperated look. "Well that's been the plan for seventeen years. Don't tell me you want to change it now."
Moisture glittered at the ends of her lashes. "No, I don't want to change a thing."
"Except this house." He shuddered. "I can't live here with your mom scowling at me all the time."
"I expect you to help me finish the wallpapering and redecorating. When I'm finished, this will be our house."
"And the store?"
"It's been in my family for centuries," she told him with a proper pride. "I like being a bookseller. But new books, new ideas, not the old, moldy stuff that refuses to change with the times. Faith and I were talking about making it part new books, part coffee shop, the way they do in the big cities. Think Sweetheart could stand the shock?"
"I think it'd be good for them." His tone dropped an octave. "Just like you're good for me."
They kissed, long and slow, with the leisurely confidence that there was no reason to hurry. When he lifted her off him, she was grinning. She traced the shape of his smile with her forefinger as she spoke the final truth to him at last.
"I love you, Zach Crandall. You might be all respectable now, but I'll always see you as a bad boy who loves to stir things up when they get dull. And I like that about you."
Then came his husky promise.
"I'll do my best to see you're never disappointed."
* * * *