The Long Hot Summer

by Rosnau, Wendy

  A flood of emotion engulfed her as she realized she was, indeed, standing on fen. Sweet, wonderful, fen. She could have cried out with joy, but there wasn’t time. She turned and ran, fighting her way through the thick vines, determined to get as far away as possible before Sheriff Tucker came after her.

  She found the tree house by accident, practically stumbling into the giant cypress facefirst. When she gazed up and saw massive limbs supporting Johnny’s tree house, she started to cry. Leaning against the giant tree, she worked at catching her breath.

  “Miss Chapman. Do you hear me? I would have done it quick, killed you fast and painlessly. Now the swamp will make you suffer.”

  His voice urged Nicole into action, and she jerked the rope ladder down and began to climb. Refusing to consider what she might find inside the tree house, she stepped into the shelter just as a flash of lightning lit up the sky. For no more than a brief second, she saw the snake coiled up in a dry corner, and it stopped her in her tracks.

  This one’s a harmless milk snake, cherie.

  Well, it was too dark to see underbellies, Nicole noted. Think, she told herself. What else had Johnny said?

  Don’t move fast, cherie. But don’t freeze up, either.

  Nicole forced herself inside, taking slow, even steps. “You can stay right there,” she told the snake, “and I’ll stay over here.”

  Unable to see whether the snake had moved, she had to blindly trust the reptile—and fate. “Fate and Johnny,” she whispered softly. “He’ll come for me. I know he’ll come.”

  She forced herself to breathe evenly, and began to pray that Johnny would find her sooner rather than later. She refused to think negative thoughts. Instead, she wedged herself into the corner and clung to the wall. At least she didn’t have to worry about freezing up; she couldn’t have stopped shaking if she tried.

  Clifton’s voice above the thunder was the lucky break Johnny needed. He turned the boat toward the black bog and sent the pole into the murky water with swift, strong, purposeful strokes. Five minutes later, he heard Clifton’s voice again. This time he was calling to Nicole, taunting her about dying in the swamp.

  The reality of the situation made Johnny’s blood run cold. With renewed energy and his keen sense of direction, he pushed on. He told himself the swamp was his home; he’d traveled every inch of it in daylight and darkness. He would find Tuck, but most importantly he would find Nicole. He had to.

  He spotted Clifton’s boat pulled into shore some ten minutes later. They ran their boats onto land, and Johnny led Detective Archard and Jasper through the thick woods. It was Johnny who first saw the sheriff stumbling around as if he himself were lost.

  “Tuck!”

  The sheriff spun around, drawing his gun at the same time, his flashlight zeroing in on Johnny’s face. “That you, Johnny boy?”

  Johnny squinted through the misting rain. “Why, Tuck? What’s going on? Where’s Nicole?”

  “It ain’t my fault she’s gonna die, it’s yours,” Clifton said. “None of this is my fault. If you had stayed away, this wouldn’t be happening. It was all over. The debt paid.”

  “Tell him all of it.” Jasper suddenly appeared alongside Johnny. “Tell the truth, Cliff. Tell him how his daddy died.”

  Clifton angled his head and stared at Jasper. “You wanted Madie for yourself as much as I wanted justice for my daddy. It wasn’t my fault she got sick and died before you could marry her. If she had lived you would have called me a hero instead of a murderer. Don’tcha see, J.P., we had to do it.”

  Jasper shook his head. “I didn’t do nothin’. I didn’t know what you’d done until after. I would have never agreed to murder. Never!”

  “But you kept my secret for twenty-two years.”

  “What secret?” This time it was Ryland’s voice.

  “Carl Bernard seduced my mama, and my daddy shot himself when he found them together. I had no choice after that. The Bible says ‘an eye for an eye.’ That’s why I ran Delmar down on the road that night.”

  Johnny was sure he hadn’t heard right. It was too crazy. Sheriff Tucker was responsible for the hit-and-run accident. “You killed my father?”

  “Delmar always walked home from town. No one questioned it.” Sheriff Tucker raised his gun and pointed it at Johnny.

  Detective Archard said, “You’ve just confessed to murder, Sheriff Tucker. It’s all over. Put the gun down.”

  It was then that Johnny came out of the gray fog that had enveloped him. Crying out, he charged Clifton, knocking the bigger man off his feet. He threw a hard punch to the man’s jaw and reached for the gun.

  “No, boy. No!” Jasper hurried forward. “Don’t hurt him, Cliff. He’s Madie’s son. Don’t hurt the boy.”

  The gun went off, a deafening crack. It all happened so fast that in a matter of seconds it was all over. Johnny threw a hard right to Clifton’s jaw and then muscled the gun out of his hand. When he looked up, he saw Jasper crumpled on the ground, a bullet hole in his chest.

  “Old man!” Johnny crawled over to where Jasper Craig lay unmoving on his back, vaguely aware of Ryland rushing to apprehend Sheriff Tucker.

  “Boy?” Jasper fought for air. “Listen now. There ain’t much time. You tell Farrel I’m real sorry. Tell him you two are even now, that it’s time to make peace. Go to the tunnel and get my things. I want them with me.” He reached for Johnny’s hand and gripped it urgently. “Promise me, boy. I need my things.”

  Johnny nodded. “You have my word, old man. You’ll have them.”

  Jasper smiled, then nodded. “Good boy. Your mama was a fine woman. You remember that. Your daddy, too. We just wanted the same thing, and I was a sore loser.”

  “You should have stayed back, old man. Kept clear.”

  “It was time I did something right. Selfish, really. I’ve been needing to see Madie real bad for a long while now. This time, when we meet, she’ll be happy to see me. She’ll know I did something good for a change. She’ll smile, maybe even forgive me. You remember my box, boy. I need my box with me.”

  Those were the last words Jasper Craig ever spoke.

  Johnny looked over at Clifton Tucker. Ryland was putting handcuffs on him. “You bastard! Why?” Johnny scrambled to his feet, his fists raised.

  “Johnny, no!” Ryland grabbed him by the shoulder. “Listen to me. He’s crazy. What you do to him now won’t make any difference. Let the law handle it. Remember what we came here for. Nicole’s out there somewhere, and she needs you to find her. Go!”

  Ryland’s words shocked Johnny back to reality. He turned and scanned the darkness once more, then yelled, “Cherie!” He wiped tears out of his eyes as he struggled into the woods. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried. His mama’s funeral, he supposed.

  “Johnny!”

  “Cherie!”

  “Here, Johnny. I’m in the tree house!”

  Moments later he was standing beneath the giant cypress. When he saw her appear in the doorway of his tree house, he nearly collapsed with relief. A moment later he was lifting her off the rope ladder and hauling her into his arms. Cradling her against him, he buried his face in her hair.

  “Johnny? I heard shots. Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” he drawled, still holding her close. “Give me a minute, cherie,” he said, unable to let go of her just yet. When he finally loosened his hold minutes later, he told her what had happened.

  “I’m so sorry, Johnny. It’s all so terrible.”

  “He’s crazy.” Johnny hung his head. “Jasper’s gone. The old fool was trying to help me and Tuck shot him.”

  Raw emotion took him over the edge. Johnny pulled Nicole close and buried his head in her hair once more. After a few minutes passed, he set her away from him and smiled down at her. “The good news is you’re safe. You aren’t hurt, are you?”

  “A bump on the head is all. I’ll be fine now that you’re here. I knew you’d come. Thank you.”

  “Thank me
another way, cherie. Kiss me.”

  The townsfolk were in a state of shock. And yet the gossip lines were humming; the phone at Oakhaven hadn’t stopped ringing all morning.

  What had amazed Nicole most about the people of Common was their sincere effort to make amends to Johnny.

  The truth was, for years Sheriff Tucker had manipulated the people of Common, and they had come to realize that fact quickly, with alarming clarity—something that more than convinced Nicole they were genuinely good people. Yes, the truth had shaken the town of Common to the core, but it had also given the people back their dignity. And for that, Nicole believed they truly thanked Johnny.

  Last night, when they had gotten back to the house, they’d spent an hour explaining to Gran what had happened and why. Next, Farrel had to be called, and Johnny and Ryland had spent several hours closed in the study with him. Nicole hadn’t asked Johnny what had happened between them, but she knew whatever had been said, their feud had ended.

  Ryland had been wonderful handling all the details last night, and again this morning. The incarceration of Sheriff Tucker had gone smoothly, and before he’d left to go back to New Orleans he’d promised to look into Johnny’s parole deal. It was amazing how quickly things could be expedited when you knew the right people, Nicole thought. And Ryland Archard certainly knew the right people. Good, honest people—people like himself.

  All in all, last night had ended the hostility toward the Bernards. It had also explained Jasper Craig’s self-destructive obsession with liquor, and Farrel’s constant need to wreak vengeance on Johnny. Sheriff Tucker had been a victim in many ways himself. Though Nicole was glad he would be locked up, she found it hard to hate him.

  She parked the car at the end of the driveway and walked up the road leading to the hill where the farmhouse had stood. As she neared the hillside, she saw Johnny sitting in the grass overlooking Belle. The morning sun was hot, but there was a gentle breeze, and his loose, gorgeous hair moved freely around his shoulders.

  He had been so protective of her last night, and she of him. She supposed they had looked ridiculous clinging to each other the way they had, but no one had said a word. Later, in the early hours of the morning, he had come to her bedroom and made love to her. Such fierce, passionate love that she had cried the entire time.

  She reached the hillside and silently sat down beside him. Just being near him made her happy, made her thankful to be alive. God, how she loved this man.

  He turned to look at her. “So, cherie, what’s so important that it couldn’t wait until noon? I told Mae I’d be back by lunchtime.”

  “Yes, I know. Ryland called from New Orleans. He said the parole board will be reviewing your case. He says you’ll be a free man in a matter of weeks, if he has anything to say about it. I thought you’d want to know.”

  He dismissed the news with a slight nod. “You feel like talking?”

  “If you want.”

  He turned and looked straight into her eyes. “I wanted to talk last night, but you couldn’t stop crying.” He grinned. “That was new. At first I thought I was hurting you.”

  “You stole my breath again,” Nicole confessed. “My reaction was just a little different this time. So, what is it you want to talk about?”

  “Last night, before all hell broke loose, you told me you loved me. Remember?”

  “Yes.” Nicole wanted to reach out and touch him, but she held back. He looked suddenly very serious, and it made her nervous. Was this it, then? Was this where he told her he appreciated the time they’d spent together, but that he was leaving nonetheless?

  “Do you still?”

  Of course, she still loved him. “More than ever,” she admitted. “But I told you—”

  “Shh.” He reached out and touched her lips with two fingers. “It’s my turn. I’ve been sitting here trying to figure it out. How best to say what I need to say.”

  Nicole couldn’t keep quiet. “I know you plan on leaving. I’ve always known. I’ve been preparing myself.” She offered him a soft smile in the hope that he hadn’t heard the lie in her voice. “It’s okay, really. I—”

  “Is it? You want me to go?”

  “No!” Nicole said in a rush. “But I don’t want you to feel—”

  “To feel what?”

  He brushed her hair out of her eyes, and Nicole welcomed his warm touch. Savored his gentle side. “I—I want you to do what you want,” she said. “That’s all.”

  “Whatever I want?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s all up to me?”

  “Yes.”

  “So I can love you?”

  Nicole couldn’t breathe. Did she dare hope?

  “I love you, cherie. ‘You’ve got to know that I do’ is what you said to me last night. Well, you’ve got to know that I love you, too.”

  He loved her. Nicole could hardly sit still a moment longer without touching him, without knocking him over and kissing him senseless. “And?”

  “And if I stay, I’m not living in the boathouse. And I’m not sleeping alone, either.”

  He was moving in. That was doable. More than doable. Nicole tried to contain her smile, but it was spreading fast. “So?”

  “So, cherie, what do you think? Are you going to marry me so Mae can stop matchmaking?”

  Nicole couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “This isn’t some guilt thing, is it?” she asked suddenly. “I mean—”

  With one quick movement, he had her on her back, and he was towering over her, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. “No guilt.” His eyes softened. “And about kids…we’ll go slow. If and when it happens, it’ll be because you’re ready. No pressure.”

  “No pressure,” Nicole agreed, so in love with Johnny that she could hardly contain her tears. “You can’t take it back,” she whispered, feeling the first tear wet the corner of her eye. “Now that you’ve asked, it’s a done deal. Right?”

  “Are you going to cry?”

  “Probably.”

  He grinned. “Because I’m stealing your breath again?”

  “Yes.” Nicole squirmed beneath him, running her hands down the length of his strong back, needing so badly to feel his strength. “Should we seal the deal with a kiss?”

  “Just a kiss?” Johnny’s eyes turned heavy-lidded, and as needy as Nicole’s. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he eased his weight onto her prone body. It was going to be gentle and tender this time. He whispered the promise in her ear. Unhurried, he swore. But as usual the kiss turned hot and demanding the minute their lips touched, and what followed sizzled, then burned.

  They ended up late for lunch to tell Mae the good news.

  ISBN: 978-1-4592-1814-7

  THE LONG HOT SUMMER

  Copyright © 2000 by Wendy Rosnau

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 300 East 42nd Street, New York, NY 10017 U.S.A.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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