Southern Gentlemen: John Rip PetersonBilly Ray Wainwright

by Jennifer Blake

  “Are you going to need an attorney, Carolina? Are you going to stay around long enough to need one? Or are you going to find a way to start over somewhere else?”

  “I’m staying.”

  He was more than surprised. “You’re sure?”

  “You heard him, Billy. He’ll search, and he’ll find me. Wherever I go, whatever I do. I’ve given this a lot of thought. I lost the element of surprise when I collapsed that night. Now he has time to prepare, to get a network in place. Even if we escape from town undetected, we’ll never be safe. We’ll always be looking over our shoulders. Here I have you, I have a few friends who’ll support me. And Judge Sawyer has never been fond of my father-in-law. If such a thing as a fair hearing exists in this county, I’ll get one.”

  Judge Sawyer was the judge who would probably hear the case if it went to court. He and Whittier Grayson had butted heads more than once. He wasn’t as powerful as Whittier, but this time the final decision would be his. Obviously Carolina really had considered her situation carefully. And she was making an informed choice.

  “He threatened to steal my children. Can we use that?” she asked.

  “It would be your word against his. I don’t think we can count on Doug to testify. I’m your attorney, and they’ll say Kitten was coached. But if he said it once, he might say it again with other witnesses.”

  “What do you think my chances are of keeping the children? As my attorney, not my friend.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t want to mislead you, because there aren’t any guarantees. Frank Sawyer and your father-in-law may not like each other, but they’re both old-style Southern gentlemen. And in the end, they may stick together.”

  She moved a little closer, close enough to touch him, in fact. For a moment he thought she was going to, but she didn’t.

  She cocked her head, but the expression in her eyes was as vulnerable as one of her children’s. “You may be right about everything else, but you’re wrong about that. There was only one gentleman in this room tonight, Billy Ray, and it wasn’t my father-in-law.”

  5

  Maggie Deveraux, the owner of the Blue Bayou Tavern, had an old house on the edge of Moss Bend, complete with a front yard full of moss-draped live oaks, and pines that spread a thick carpet of needles on the ground below them. In the fall she gathered pecans from a grove that flanked the borders of her property, and in the summer she harvested blackberries from a wild thicket in the woods behind her house.

  Maggie had a tire swing and sandbox for her grandchildren, who visited infrequently from California. But most of the time the big house was nearly empty, and the yard, perfect for children to play in, was much too silent.

  Maggie was only too glad to say yes when Billy Ray asked if Carolina could move into the upstairs bedrooms with her children. She named a nominal rent, promised complete use of the kitchen and living areas, and asked Kitten her favorite color so she could quickly repaint the small bedroom that would be hers. Kitten chose red, and without a blink, Maggie proceeded to paint the room the vibrant red of spring tulips. Carolina threatened to provide sunglasses to anyone viewing the room, but Kitten was entranced.

  After Champ’s death, Carolina had asked Judge Grayson to sell the house she and Champ had owned together. All the furniture and almost everything else she owned was in storage, but the money realized from the sale had been carefully invested, along with what she’d received from Champ’s insurance policy and social security, so that now she had a monthly income that just paid the rent and minimal living expenses.

  “‘I have to get a job.” Carolina finished packing the few things she had smuggled out of the Grayson house on the night she left. Kitten and Chris were with Maggie, who had volunteered to keep them while Carolina made the move.

  Billy Ray watched Carolina sort items to place in plastic grocery bags. “A job? You’re sure?”

  She nodded without turning. “And I have to get one fast.”

  A week had passed since the judge’s visit, an ominously quiet week. Doug had ignored all of Billy Ray’s telephone messages, and Billy Ray had only seen the judge in court—where he had handed down a particularly harsh judgment against one of Billy Ray’s clients. Billy Ray was just counting the hours until all hell broke loose.

  “Are you really ready to work?” Billy Ray held open a bag so Carolina could stuff Christopher’s horse inside. “You know, you have a lot of adjustments coming up.”

  She straightened. “The day care center at the Methodist church will have openings for both kids starting next month, and I registered them this morning. I have to work. I have to prove I can provide for the children. Champ and I had no savings. He drank or snorted every penny he made. I didn’t know how bad it was until after the accident, when I had recovered enough to go through his papers. He lied to me about our investments. He even drained the trust fund my father set up for the children. I’m lucky the premium on his insurance policy came right out of his salary, or we wouldn’t have had that, either.”

  He didn’t remind her that the Graysons, millionaires many times over, would certainly leave their estate to Kitten and Christopher and could easily spare a portion of it now. He knew that it would be snowing in hell before Carolina asked the judge and his wife for more help.

  He took the bags out of her arms to carry them downstairs. “What kind of job are you planning to look for?”

  “As a matter of fact, I already have an interview.”

  He realized she was struggling to sound nonchalant, but clearly this job, whatever it was, meant the world to her.

  “Oh?” He struggled to sound nonchalant, too.

  “One of my sorority sisters from college is Jen Wilton, of Wilton Mills in Georgia. I called her to see if they had any openings in personnel. They’re looking for a personnel manager in their facility in Cairo. I majored in business and psychology, so I know I can do the job. And I’d be good at it. I did a six-month internship before I graduated. I love working with people, fitting employees to the right job, helping them iron out their problems. I’ll do anything to support my children, but this would be more than just a way of making money.”

  This job would be a way of boosting her self-esteem. He could see that plainly. He wished that he could hand it to her on a silver platter—although he knew that if he did, it would completely destroy her joy in it.

  “What are your chances?” He started for the door, and she picked up two more bags and followed him.

  “I don’t know. Jen’s putting in a good word for me. She knows what kind of person I am, and she knows I was an A student. But, of course, she won’t be doing the hiring. She got me the interview, but I’ll be on my own once I’m there.”

  “And when do you go?”

  “Friday morning at ten.”

  “What are you going to do with the kids?”

  “I’m going to see if any of my former friends will help. But most of them disappeared from my life after the accident.”

  She didn’t sound bitter, although he thought she had a right to. “What time will you need to leave?”

  “Nine. Eight-thirty to be safe. It’ll take most of an hour to get there, if Doug Fletcher or his boys don’t stop me at the county line.”

  “If I don’t have any appointments, you can bring the kids to my office.”

  She smiled her gratitude.

  Billy Ray realized he would do a lot for another one of those smiles. “I’ll have Joel fix up a car for you. That might throw the sheriff’s department off the track. But even if a deputy stops you, if you don’t have Kitten and Chris along, he should let you go.”

  “That would be the judge’s fondest wish, wouldn’t it? For me to leave River County for good without them. He’d get custody by default.”

  Outside, he dropped the bags in her trunk. “Are you going to keep this car?”

  “Temporarily. I’m not going to antagonize the Graysons further by selling it now, not with everything else at stake. I’m sure Judg
e Sawyer would think I was just being vindictive.”

  “Do you really think your father-in-law gave you this car as a reminder of the accident?”

  “I’m sure. Champ drove a company car, but he was the one who chose the BMW for me, against my wishes. Then Champ died in a model just like this one, and the judge couldn’t miss a chance to remind me of that every time I get behind the wheel. I’m in no position to buy another without selling this one. Champ let our car insurance lapse, so there was no reimbursement.”

  “We need to document all Champ’s frailties, Carolina. We can start with that one.”

  “Can we really use it if I have to fight for custody? He’s not on trial.”

  “We’ll have to see how things develop. If we can show enough proof that Champ wasn’t what he appeared to be, then we can show how much stress you were under in the marriage. That way, no matter what they try to prove about you, Judge Sawyer will look at your situation more kindly.”

  “He was the children’s father. I don’t want him dragged through the mud.”

  “All well and good if the Graysons don’t drag the children’s mother through it.”

  She winced. “I hate this. Why does it have to be this way? I’d allow them to visit the children. Kitten and Chris are their grandchildren, and I could respect that as long as they weren’t abusive. Why do they have to demand custody?”

  “Why do they?”

  “Because Whittier Grayson has to control everything and everyone in his world! He destroyed his son by turning him into a puppet. The only way Champ could rebel was by living a secret life.”

  “That’s something we won’t be able to use in court.”

  “I know. But it’s true.”

  “I know.”

  She closed the trunk before she turned. “Do you?”

  “I’m sorry it took me some time to believe everything you’ve told me, but I’m a lawyer, Carolina. A good one hears all the facts before he comes to a conclusion. Then he goes all out to defend what he knows is right.”

  “That’s a pretty idealistic take on it, don’t you think? I’ll bet you defend people all the time who are as guilty as hell.”

  He grinned. “I prefer it the other way though.”

  She relaxed visibly. “Your whole face changes when you smile. Did you know that?”

  He crossed his arms, enjoying this. “Does it? How?”

  “Well, you’re a pleasure to look at any old time. But even better when you smile. Some woman must have told you that by now.”

  “Are you fishing for a head count?”

  If anything, she looked more intrigued. “Why didn’t you ever marry, Billy? You’re great with kids. And I know for a fact there are single women all over town who’d pick out a veil and a preacher in an instant, if you just gave the word.”

  “How do you know that? Is there a secret network of single women in Moss Bend?”

  “I just know.”

  “I almost got married once.”

  An interesting but unchartable array of emotions crossed her face. “Really? Who was the lucky woman?”

  “Nobody you’d know. In the end she decided she wasn’t so lucky after all. When I decided I had to move back here to watch out for Joel, she refused to come with me. And she was right. She was a big-city girl. She would have hated Moss Bend.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not. We weren’t right for each other.”

  “Who would be right for you?”

  He wasn’t sure he could answer that. At least not when it was this particular woman asking the question.

  “Someone I could talk to,” he said at last. “About everything and nothing. About the conflict in the Middle East and why Mrs. Balou keeps imagining men are peering in her patio windows. About why the Braves traded Dave Justice to the Indians and whether our kids ought to attend Stetson or Florida State.”

  “So it just takes a conversationalist? That’s hard to believe. Lots of women like to talk, Billy.”

  He wondered if she knew she was one step away from flirting with him. Her eyes were shining, and just the hint of a dimple flashed in one cheek. He remembered that dimple from their adolescence. In those days he had very nearly lived for the moment Carolina smiled at him.

  He tilted his head, eyes focused on her lips. “You know, I’ve always wondered…”

  The dimple deepened. “About what?”

  “Whether you knew just how serious I was about you back in high school.”

  She leaned back against her car. “Serious?”

  “First love is powerful stuff. I guess I loved you about as much as I’ve ever loved anybody, Carolina.”

  “Oh, Billy…”

  “You didn’t know?”

  “I wondered.”

  “Then you didn’t care.”

  “I cared. More than I can tell you. But I was a product of the way I’d been raised. I thought life was a fairy tale. Your home situation was so difficult, I knew you couldn’t offer me anything, not for a long, long time. And, Billy, you never told me you cared about me.”

  “What right did I have? I couldn’t involve you in my life.”

  “Champ was offering the moon. The stars. Happily-ever-after. By saying yes to him, I thought I would please everybody.”

  “Thought?”

  “I pleased everybody but me.”

  He moved a little closer. “You weren’t happy, even then?”

  “Every time I saw you after that, I went home and cried. I missed you so much. I told myself I didn’t, that I’d get over it. But I never did. Not really. Because in all the years that followed, I still wanted to cry when I saw you. By then I understood what I’d given up. And I knew it was too late to get it back.”

  He was touched and, somehow, absolved for caring about her, even though he hadn’t realized that he needed to be. He had not been a fool all those years ago; Carolina had cared about him, too.

  His arms dropped to his sides, as if a barrier between them had disappeared. “I guess it’s stupid to bring this up. We’re twelve years older. You’ve been married. I’ve had lovers. We’ve both changed.”

  She nodded. “I have children and a reputation that can only hurt you now.”

  “You’re vulnerable and scared. You’re waiting for your future to be decided by other people.”

  “Actually, I’m waiting for you to kiss me.”

  He didn’t. Not yet, anyway, but he moved a little closer. “This is going to complicate everything, Carolina.”

  “Kissing me?”

  “The things that go with it.”

  “Then maybe we could take it one small step at a time. You kiss me now, and we can discuss step two some other time. We can have a real conversation about it, if that would please you.”

  He laughed, low in his throat. Her dimple deepened, but her eyes betrayed feelings that weren’t so easy to pretend away. She was scared and vulnerable, and there was worse. She wasn’t sure she could please him. Carolina had a darker side she hadn’t had as a girl. She was unsure of herself, confused and wary. For years a man had told her she wasn’t good enough.

  If Champ Grayson weren’t dead already, Billy Ray would gladly have wrapped his hands around the golden boy’s throat.

  “Billy…” Her voice was tentative, although her smile was still in place. “I want you to know…Champ and I didn’t have a real marriage. Not after I discovered I was pregnant with Chris, and hardly before that. I don’t know if that matters. But he’s been gone from my life for a lot longer than six months. I know this looks bad…”

  “Not after everything you’ve told me.” He put his arms around her and pulled her the short distance to his chest. “And he is dead. You’re still very much alive.”

  He lowered his face to hers, not the boy who had kissed her once upon a time, but the man who wanted her now. A man who wanted the taste and feel of her, the warmth and, most of all, the inner woman. Both the girl he had loved so long ago and the woman she had be
come.

  Her lips were as soft as he remembered, as giving and sweet Memories rushed through him, sensory memories of scents and texture and flavor. The memories had hidden all these years but now instantly rekindled, and although neither of them was the same, the memories were still intact.

  He felt the bare expanse of her leg move between his and her hips press against him. Her breasts sank against his chest, and she wrapped her arms around him as if she was afraid he might pull away. Her lips parted for his tongue, and each pressure was answered, as if their needs were perfectly in tune.

  They had agreed to take this one step at a time, but Billy had advanced a mile when the sound of a car engine penetrated the thick fog of desire. He pulled away, and Carolina didn’t resist. They turned as one to see Doug Fletcher’s car sitting in the driveway. As they watched, arms and legs still entangled, Doug backed out and sped down Hitchcock Road.

  Kitten didn’t want to visit Billy Ray’s office, and she made sure he realized it. On Friday morning, ten minutes after Carolina had gone to her job interview, Billy Ray realized that keeping Kitten and Chris busy was going to be tough.

  “I don’t suppose you’d want to make a fort under the conference room table?” Much to Billy’s surprise, Fran, who had sternly reminded him that she had not been hired to baby-sit, was trying her best to entertain the children.

  “With what?” Kitten demanded.

  “We’ll throw a blanket over it. You and Chris can have a snack in there. Pretend you’re bears in a cave.”

  Chris pulled yet another volume off the conference room bookshelf.

  “I could be a bear, but Chris won’t stay. He hates the dark.” Kitten grabbed his hand, and he began to scream.

  “Can you think of something else you’d like to do?” Billy Ray picked up Chris, who stopped immediately.

  “No. It smells in here.”

  “Old books. Old building.”

  “I hate it.”

  “Now that you mention it, so do I. Fran, find us another office, will you?”

  “This was good enough for your father.”