by Camille Eide
He’d been let down by people he’d trusted. He knew how pain and disappointment could burrow in and steal every last bit of hope. “God knows the pain you went through, Sue. When we suffer, so does He. But there’s more to life and suffering than what we can see. He knows you and loves you more than anyone. He is good and He wants you to trust Him.”
“Trust Him?”
“Yeah.”
“Like you do?”
Joe nodded.
Her eyes roamed over his features. “You know, I’ve seen you, Joe. It seems like you really believe He’s here.” She looked around the room warily, as if someone would materialize from the walls. “That creeps me out.”
“There’s nothing scary about it. Just means I can talk to Him. So can you.”
“Talk?” She glanced at the plain wooden podium at the front of the chapel. “One of the first things I learned is that talk is cheap.” She rose. “Thanks, but I gotta go.”
As all five foot two of her disappeared out the chapel door, Joe hissed out a sigh. Guys on the rig had been butter compared to her.
Back to square one.
* * *
Over the next few days, Sue avoided Joe as much as possible. She’d worked hard to erase the memories of the truck mishap and that kiss. Now the man had to go and throw God into the mix? She didn’t need any more chaos.
Thursday afternoon, Bertie brought her crew to the barn where Sue and her group were doing critter duty. “What’s the plan for getting the kids to Layne’s place tomorrow night?”
The more Sue thought about Layne’s benefit dinner idea, the more she let herself hope the plan might actually work. She just wished it didn’t depend on her getting all dolled up and trying to make clever conversation.
Bertie cleaned her glasses on the hem of her flannel shirt. “Want me to haul a load of kids in the veedub?”
“Yeah, if you don’t mind.”
“So why did you give Karla and Linda the night off? Joe and I could use a couple extra hands with you gone to that fancy-schmancy dinner.”
“Layne arranged for some CPS interns to come and help so they can log in some training hours. Which saves me a little on payroll. Plus, Layne’s husband, Ted, will be there. He’s a big guy, so with Joe and Ted acting as bouncers, I doubt the kids will try anything out of line.”
“Bouncers.” Bertie handed a pitchfork to Edgar and a broom to Vince. “You know, I was thinking of going into that line of work at one time.”
Sue smothered a chuckle. “Yeah, I could totally see that. What changed your mind?”
“The choice between that and being a social worker was a tough call. But in the end, you gotta decide where the biggest payoff is.”
“Payoff?” Sue helped Jasmine lift a bucket of goat milk and poured it into the can. “And you chose this?”
“Yep. Gotta follow the big bucks.” She winked and walked away with Deeg.
What kind of a life had Bertie given up in order to work with these kids? And how much longer would she be a part of their lives?
Bertie’s sharp voice rose from the other end of the barn. Ringo shot past Sue and streaked out the door, tail down.
Sue hurried in the direction the dog had come from.
Inside the last stall, Brandi stood glaring at Bertie, arms crossed tightly to her chest, while Bertie held a pitchfork upright.
“What’s going on?” Sue’s gaze traveled from one to the other.
Brandi’s scowl shifted away from both of them.
“Let’s hear it, Miss,” Bertie said, voice taut.
“Nothing’s going on.” Brandi glowered at a cobwebby corner of the stall.
Bertie turned to Sue. “When I came in, she was threatening the dog with the pitchfork.”
“That’s a lie!” Brandi glared at Bertie “I was moving some hay. The stupid dog was growling at me, because he doesn’t like the fork. I was just shooing him out.”
Bertie’s grip on the pitchfork tightened. “Shooing him out, huh?” The words came out clipped. She turned to Sue, anger seething in her eyes. “Well, my bad, I guess. It just looked like she had him trapped in a corner and was fixing to spear him.”
Brandi’s expression turned cool and impassive.
“Well?”
The girl muttered something foul that Sue didn’t fully catch but didn’t care to hear repeated.
“Okay, since you won’t be straight with me, you’re off critter duty.”
“Tragic. You think I care? Well, I don’t. I don’t care about your stinking chickens or your stupid nerdo-freak kids, and I especially don’t care about this lame joke of a home.”
Sue’s heart sank. She counted to five, then ten. The last thing she needed was to engage in a battle with a lippy kid who was only lashing out because she thought chores were some kind of medieval torture. She didn’t have the time or energy for a battle. “Fine.” Bands of pain tightened across her forehead. “Since you hate it here so much, maybe you’d like to check out the hospitality at the state juvenile detention center.”
Lips cinched, Brandi met Sue’s gaze. You wouldn’t, her eyes said.
Try me, Sue answered with a steady look.
Finally, the girl broke eye contact and shrugged. “Sweet. Whatever. I don’t care.”
“Go inside, Brandi. And stay away from Ringo.”
The girl made a wide path around Bertie and left.
Bertie raised a single brow.
“I know,” Sue said. “She’s looking to pick a fight, but I can’t deal with her attitude right now. Not with everything that’s going on.”
Bertie nodded and handed Sue the pitchfork. “Sure hope you know what you’re doing.”
That makes two of us.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Oh. My. Word. What did I tell you?” Layne’s glossy lips stretched into a broad smile. She turned Sue around to face the vanity mirror in Layne’s bedroom. “Can I call it or what? You are one breathtaking blend of classic beauty and five-alarm hotness. Wow.”
Sue stared at her reflection. Wow was right. That wasn’t her. At least, not any version she recognized.
Layne had curled Sue’s hair and brushed it out into a shimmering cascade of golden waves. With mascara on her lashes and a touch of black liner, her dark eyes appeared luminous and intense. Mysterious. Deep red lipstick accentuated the fullness of her lips.
“Well?” Layne leaned beside her.
“Unbelievable.” Sue winced. “Where’d you find lipstick in Hooker Red?”
Layne laughed and shook her head. “It looks amazing on you. And so does that dress. Do you have any idea how insanely hot you are?”
“Great. Just what I need to gain the respect and support of wealthy philanthropists.”
Layne spritzed Sue’s hair with a finishing mist of hairspray.
A knock on the door came, then Bertie poked her head inside. “Layne? Your husband’s calling for you.”
With a worried frown, Layne stopped spraying her own French twist and set down the can. “I forgot I was going to find him some antacid. Be right back.”
As she rushed out, Bertie came in and cocked an eyebrow at Sue, then spun a three-sixty and looked around the room. “Have you seen my boss around here anywhere?”
“Funny, Bert. Didn’t I tell you? You’re next.”
That got a deep cackle out of the older woman. “Have you seen this place? It’s enormous. And that hot tub! Even though it could float the Titanic, I don’t think there’ll be any water left by the time the kids get done with it.”
Sue studied her reflection and resisted the urge to wipe the color from her lips. “Funny.”
“No. Seriously.”
Sue groaned.
With a chuckle, Bertie slipped out.
Sue stood and took one last look at herself in Layne’s full-length mirror. The dress Layne had loaned her was very flattering. Black and close-fitting, it had a modest V in the front, a plunging V in the back, and a tapered skirt that somehow gave the
illusion of length to her legs. Not bad. However, the strappy heels, though they looked good, were four inches of neck-breaking mayhem.
Sue went to the front room and waited for Layne.
The faint sounds of squealing and laughter carried from beyond the adjacent den.
With Joe and Ted Stevenson helping supervise, there was little chance of returning from the benefit dinner to any blood or mis-launched vehicles. She hoped.
As she admired a view of the Stevensons’ front lawn through the living room window, Layne returned.
Concern creased her brow. “I was hoping it was just indigestion, but Ted is throwing up and he’s in a lot of pain. I think I need to take him to the ER.” Worry brewed in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh no, Layne, don’t be! I just hope he’s okay.”
Layne went to her purse and slipped out an envelope. “Here’s your ticket.”
“What? No. I’m not going without you.”
“Sure you are. It’ll be fine. I’ll call the assistant DA and make sure he introduces you to the right people. Piece of cake. You can do this.”
“But I don’t know anybody. And I feel ridiculous.”
Layne blinked. “Are you kidding me? You are forty-seven kinds of gorgeous. It’ll be fine, trust me. All you have to do is introduce yourself and talk about your kids.”
Easy for someone to say who’s beautiful, assertive, and oozing with charm. Suppressing a groan, Sue took the offered ticket.
Layne cocked her head at the other one. “I won’t be needing this. Know anyone you’d like to treat to a five-course steak dinner?”
Squeals erupted from the den. Jasmine and Haley burst into the living room with towels wrapped around their swimsuits, legs dripping.
Haley saw Sue and stopped.
Jasmine crashed into Haley and gasped.
“Wow, Miss Susan!” Haley breathed. “You’re beautiful.”
“Like movie star!” Jasmine said, eyes wide.
“That’s really funny, you two.” Joe’s voice boomed from the den. He emerged in a drenched T-shirt and soaked jeans, rubbing his hair with a towel. “Ever hear of paybacks? I’d run too, if—” He froze when his gaze fell on Sue.
The raw admiration in his eyes sent a warm tingle through her. Her cheeks ignited.
Layne touched Sue’s arm. “Hey, Sue, maybe Joe could …” She studied Joe, her head tilted as if sizing him up. “Oh, yes. Perfect.”
“Yeah.” Joe’s gaze was still transfixed on Sue. “Perfect.”
The girls giggled.
“I’m glad you agree.” Layne stepped toward him.
Joe blinked at Layne. “W-what?”
Layne tucked the extra ticket in his hand. “I hope you can eat again. You’re going to be Sue’s dinner date.”
* * *
At the convention center, Joe held the door open for Sue.
She went inside, sneaking another peek at the tailored black dinner jacket and crisp white shirt that emphasized the breadth of his chest.
It was still hard to believe Layne’s former-pro-linebacker husband had a suit that fit Joe. And even harder to believe that Joe had agreed to do this. During the chaos of Sue’s instructing Layne’s interns how to help Bertie, and Layne’s rushed departure with her poor husband, Joe had changed clothes, run some gel through his hair, and borrowed a splash of some tantalizing cologne. In ten minutes, he’d morphed from a brawny crew boss into a stylish dinner escort.
Except Joe didn’t strike her as the schmoozing-with-society type. He struck her more as—
Gorgeous. As in drop-dead.
She fanned her cheeks and scanned the crowd. Most of the guests mingled nearer the bar set up at one end of the room.
While Sue waited in the receiving area, Joe presented their tickets and got their table number. From where she stood, the cut of his jacket emphasized the contour of his shoulders and waist even more. Sue tore her gaze away and surveyed the décor.
Round banquet tables filled the center of the ballroom. The tables were dressed in black, white, and gold. Even the seats were draped in black and tied with soft, white bows in the back. Elegant, sparkling, and overwhelming.
Joe joined her. His gaze fell to her lips, then darted away. He nodded at the crowd of guests clustered at one end of the room. “I guess it’s mingle time. They’ll seat everyone in a while.” A dimple punctuated his quirky half smile. “So, what do you think?”
I think you’re about to set off every fire alarm in the place.
“I think I’d better do what I came for and get this over with,” Sue said in low tones.
Joe placed a hand lightly at the small of her back, sending a tingle of warmth up her spine, and guided her through the crowd.
Sue smiled at an elegantly dressed couple, hoping her smile didn’t look as phony as it felt.
Everyone had a drink in hand.
Everyone? She eyed Joe, suddenly on alert. Did he drink? Though she’d made her no-alcohol policy clear at the ranch, he might not think it applied to a function like this.
Joe escorted her toward the bar. As he surveyed the crowd, he leaned down close, giving her another whiff of that divine cologne. “So, what’s the attack plan?” he said in tones just loud enough for her to hear. “Want me to create a diversion while you corner the lady with the grapefruit-sized diamond?”
“Brilliant plan, Joe, really. But I think I’ll stick with a covert ops plan for now. Get some more intel on the layout first.”
He scanned the room, nodding. “Roger that. I’ll just go check out that unsecured quadrant over there and wait for your signal.”
As Joe moved toward the appetizer tables, Sue relaxed. The only controlled substance calling to Joe was the scent of hot wings and bacon-wrapped scallops.
Time to get to work, Sooz.
A sea of strange faces surrounded her, making Sue long to be anywhere but here. This was so not her element. And so not her way of doing things—presenting herself in need and asking people to help. She’d rather be dropped into a blazing forest fire to battle it solo than ask people to give her money.
But this wasn’t about her. This was for the kids.
So why couldn’t she shake the growing unease she’d felt over the last few days? Maybe she was just feeling conspicuous in the dress and heels. Or maybe it was the nagging threat of losing the ranch—that was enough to put anyone on edge.
It’s just a banquet. You can do this. She smiled politely at the next person she saw.
A short, balding man in his fifties returned her smile and raised his tumbler in a salute. “Hello, young lady. Do I know you?”
And you’re on. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
His moist smile widened. “You sure?” He leaned closer and raked his eyes over her dress and figure, giving her a full blast of his whiskey-tinged breath.
Revulsion knotted her stomach instantly. Get a grip. This is an upscale benefit dinner. For at-risk kids. These people are professionals, not abusive drunks.
He grinned—the same glassy, thick-lidded grin that often accompanied booze-saturated breath. “Yeah, I know you.”
Sue read his name badge. She didn’t recognize his name, but she did recognize the prestigious law firm printed in bold type beneath it. She squared her shoulders and summoned a business-like smile. “I’m Susan Quinn. I run a group home for kids from failed adoptions and kids with difficulty being placed in foster homes.”
He huffed out a laugh that knocked him slightly off balance.
Staggering drunk already. Fabulous.
“Well, Suzy, has anyone ever told you …” His slurred words trailed off in a haze like his breath. “You look like a million bucks.”
Her pulse quickened.
He’s just drunk. People spew nonsense when they’re drunk.
“Bet you’d like to see a mil up close, eh?” He leaned closer and whispered. “Yeah, I know your type. That’s why you’re here, I can tell.”
With a slight shudder, she searc
hed the sea of bodies for Joe.
A large crowd filled the receiving area in a growing cluster. A mass of elegantly clad bodies, but no sign of Joe.
“Don’t worry, Suzy,” the man said, his lips stretched into a slackened grin. “You’ll have all the big money eating out of your hand tonight.”
The skin on her arms crawled. She rubbed them. Where was Joe?
“Know how I know?”
There he was. Black and white and working his way in her direction.
She eased out a pent-up breath and faced the guy. “Excuse me. You’ve mistaken me for someone else.”
“Nope.” His glassy gaze crawled down her figure. “I know exactly who you are.” He took a step closer and whispered, “You’re Suzy Q.”
Her stomach lurched.
“Get it? Susan Quinn—Suzy Q.”
No. That was long ago. This wasn’t him. This wasn’t—
“Suzy Q, where are yooou?”
Bile rose in her throat and she spun, snagging her heel on the carpet. She pitched forward and crashed into a woman, toppling her into another man, knocking full martinis from their hands. The smell of alcohol spread like fumes. Like his breath. Like—
“Come on out, li’l Suzy Q.”
She lurched backward but struggled with the angle of her heels and lost her balance. A firm grasp on her bicep yanked her upright just in time to keep her from hitting the floor.
“Sue?” Joe’s voice at her ear. “You okay?”
Dozens of stunned faces stared at her. The woman she’d jostled glared, while the man with her wiped liquid from his lapel, staring her down as if trying to gauge what kind of idiot would launch herself into a crowd like that.
Perfect. Exactly the impression she wanted to make. How was she supposed to get anyone to care about her kids now?
A sickening wave of despair rolled through her. Face burning, she turned and headed for the ballroom exit.
“Sue?”
She kept going, driven by humiliation and a need to escape. Poor Joe. How embarrassing this must be for him. And the kids! She just lost her last chance to save their home because she’d reacted like a child and made a complete fool of herself. All because of some slobbering skuzzball who reminded her of ghosts long past, of being a victim.