Carolina Girl

by Patricia Rice

  “Rora, you are being unreasonable. This is business,” Jeff argued. “You’re standing in the way of the entire town’s future. You would have been fairly paid for your property, just as the Binghams will be.”

  Clay was tired of this. He’d planned a much better end to this evening, and it would be dawn before this bunch stopped yammering. It seemed to him the script required a little action.

  Catching Aurora’s arms from behind, he gently set her aside. “I wager there is a major divide between the bank’s idea of fairness and everyone else’s. TJ, call the sheriff. We’ll need a police report to file with the insurance company to cover the damages to Aurora’s car, Cissy’s injuries, and the results of the fire. And if I hear another word, I’ll have them dust my office for fingerprints and press charges for grand theft. For all I know, they walked away with my copyrighted software.”

  Panic finally wrinkled the banker’s brow. “That’s ridiculous! You can’t prove anything against Terry, and I’m just a bystander in all this. There’s no law against doing business.”

  “Add theft, TJ,” Clay warned.

  “Clay, that’s ridiculous,” Aurora whispered beside him. “You can’t ruin a man’s career because he’s a jerk.”

  He wanted to. A primitive urge for revenge had surfaced somewhere during this episode, and he wanted to wring the necks of both men for being the same kind of crass assholes who had stripped his company and his investors without thought to any larger principle than selfish greed.

  Blind protective instinct wanted him to shield Aurora from their kind of menace. Or maybe it was a stupid possessive instinct, the “Me Tarzan, you Jane, lay your mitts off my woman” kind of thing that rose out of the primeval pools lurking in a man’s soul.

  Except with a woman like Aurora around, the big gorillas he’d have to fight off would be conniving powermongers like these. He could handle that with both thumbs tied together.

  He stepped in front of Aurora, crossed his arms again, and watched in satisfaction as Jeff backed off. “The Binghams would like to present an alternative development plan to the zoning commission, but they need more time. You’ll arrange it so that they get that time, won’t you?”

  “The sheriff’s line is busy,” TJ called from the other side of the car. “Want me to keep trying?”

  Clay bit back the urge to laugh as Talbert’s face grew whiter. He was beginning to like this role, especially since Aurora had wrapped her fingers around his biceps and was hanging on with both hands while he was practicing the communication skills he needed for her world.

  He had walked away from the corporate life with a bad taste in his mouth, but now that he knew it was just another jungle, he could learn the game, for Aurora’s sake. “I haven’t heard anything to change my mind yet,” he called back to TJ.

  “Wait a minute!” Terry shouted. “Let’s be reasonable here. If we have to go to court, it will be only your word against mine. Let me talk to the insurance companies, get some damage estimates, see what I can do. I’m not a rich man, you know. I might have been,” he added bitterly, “if my construction company could have built those condos.”

  “You don’t have to be a rich man; you just have to be a reasonable one,” Clay offered, generously, he thought. “You can work with us, or you can go to jail. Fair enough?”

  “I want him to apologize to my sister.” Aurora stepped out from behind him. “I want him out there helping all those old people cart off dead timber and fix up their burned yards.”

  “Hey, Talbert, you want us to keep trying for the sheriff?” Jared asked helpfully. “You might be better off with him than Rora.”

  “I’ll bring my crew in,” Terry agreed with a weary swipe of his hand over his thin hair. “We’ll fix things up. I didn’t mean to hurt your sister, Aurora. I’ll see if I can find her a job. I don’t suppose she can do budgets, can she?”

  “No, but she can run your office better than you can,” Clay intruded. “I’m not sure we’re ready to part with her yet, though.”

  Clay let Aurora and his brothers take it from there. His goal had always been to protect the work he’d spent his life developing. The unsettling feeling that he wanted far more than that now had him longing for the courthouse roof so he could sort things out.

  He wanted to protect Aurora and her family from corporate gorillas. Aurora’s admiration had made him prouder than working the kinks out of an inoperable program. What he felt right now was a real thrill and not the virtual one provided by his computer.

  He recognized the kick of anticipation zinging through him. He was ready to take a risk again, step outside his isolation and into Aurora’s life, if she’d let him.

  Only, now that Talbert and his cronies were out of her way, did Aurora need him anymore? The company was in production. Her investment was secure. She had her career, and she had made it plain that she couldn’t wait to kick the dust of this town off her heels and move on.

  So where did that leave him? Like the turtle, swimming back to sea, alone?

  Chapter Twenty-six

  As the various cars departed, taking with them Clay’s brothers and two angry ex-friends, Aurora opened the door to the Jag. “Take me home, please.”

  Clay was already beside her, reaching for the door, offering his hand, performing all those little courtesies with which he betrayed his bad-boy image to make her feel as if she mattered to him. Clay might want to pretend he was an island, but she didn’t think he wanted to be. She loved both sides of him, the tough one and the loner who wanted acceptance.

  She loved him. She ached with the bittersweetness of the knowledge. He’d stood up for her, protected her as if she were precious to him, and her heart had nearly burst at the seams with joy and love.

  It hurt her more than him when she asked to go home. She didn’t want to go back to her childhood bedroom. She longed to go forward to the man of her dreams, physically ached with the need of it.

  Unfortunately, he hadn’t offered the future of her dreams, and her job here was done.

  He’d talked about going steady, but given their disparate personalities, that moment of magic couldn’t last any longer than the arc of a perfect moon on a perfect night.

  She not only knew better than to rely on a man to provide her happiness; she knew better than to stand in the way of someone else’s. Clay could have any woman he wanted once he decided where he wanted to go next. He hadn’t made that step yet, and she wasn’t languishing out here, waiting until he did, endangering her fragile heart any more than she had.

  He touched her arm, almost a placating touch that made her want to weep, but she climbed in the car before she could fall victim to her hormones again. Sure, she could do the easy thing, go to bed with him now and walk away later. But she wasn’t a risk taker at heart. Clay thrived on taking giant leaps into unknown waters. He could splash happily here today and be gone tomorrow.

  Going to bed with Clay the way she felt now would be to risk never wanting to get out of his bed again. She would crumble into nothing and lose herself when he walked away. Going steady was for teenagers. She wanted a grown-up relationship involving family and kids and vows never to part. Or none at all.

  Just admitting that she wanted family and kids scared her enough.

  “We could go back to my place for a cup of coffee, talk about how this changes things,” he suggested, climbing into the driver’s seat. “I’ve even bought a filing cabinet.”

  It took her tired mind a minute to make the connection. Filing cabinet... papers... he’d cleaned up the cottage in anticipation of bringing her home.

  Even though she was shattering inside, she smiled. “That was thoughtful of you. Thank you, but I need to go home.”

  “It’s that controlling thing I do making you mad, isn’t it?” He turned on the ignition and carefully backed up in the driveway. “I got in the way of letting you flatten Jeff into roadkill.”

  “No, believe it or not, I was glad you stepped in. I wasn’t running
on rational. I have control issues of my own, so I can relate.”

  The silence thickened inside the dark car. Rory loved the hum of the powerful engine, the sleek feel of the luxurious seats. She wanted to sit here beside Clay and take off for some unseen future.

  But he hadn’t offered to share his future, just his bed. And she had a family who needed her support. She didn’t believe in placing all her eggs in one basket, especially a basket as unpredictable as Clay.

  “I’m not any good at analyzing motivations,” he warned. “If I did something wrong, you have to tell me.”

  “No, you did everything right. Sort of. It’s me who has problems. Let’s just sleep on it, okay?”

  He said nothing but turned down the fire-blackened road to her house.

  In the moonlight, all the colorful flowers, painted mailboxes, and cheerful gnomes were scorched and sad against the charred leaves of trees and shrubs. Aurora thought the scene more than reflected her mood. She’d brought their destruction by stirring up trouble—again. She’d make it go away if she did what she was supposed to do—build a career.

  She’d invested her prize money wisely. She trusted Clay to take care of it. “Mysterious” would sell a billion copies and generate tons of franchise licenses for toys and games. Even if he didn’t keep his studio here, her investment should show a profit. It was time to move on.

  o0o

  “What do you mean she’s in Chicago?” Clay paced with the telephone glued to his ear, afraid that if he didn’t pry every detail out of Cissy, he would lose something vital. “She said nothing about it last night.”

  He stared down at the newly uncluttered boards underfoot. He’d never realized the cottage floor was yellow pine.

  “She had a call last night after you went out, some bank up there confirming an appointment. I thought it had to do with your investors. I haven’t learned that much about big business yet,” Cissy explained through the receiver. “We took her to the airport this morning.”

  “We don’t have any investors in Chicago.” That was the whole point of not going public this time around. Between Aurora’s money and her banker friend’s money, they had enough to put the game in production. Soon the corporation would generate stacks of cash. Aurora needed to hang around to help him make some decisions. He’d trusted her to do that.

  They needed to talk to the Binghams, tell them no one would fight whatever zoning they chose, that they were free to do as they pleased now that Jeff and Terry had backed off.

  Cissy and her father could do that.

  She had no reason to stay here any longer.

  His breath caught in his throat, but he must have managed something dismissive, because Cissy hung up. He set the phone down and continued pacing, more rapidly now.

  Aurora was leaving. She hadn’t told him. Was their relationship that unimportant to her?

  What relationship? He’d asked her to go steady, for heaven’s sake. What woman would bank her future on that?

  Panic set in. His last corporation had failed because he’d listened to his MBAs. His ignorance had almost lost him “Mysterious” the first time around. He couldn’t afford any more failures. He’d trusted Aurora to see this one through. She had the business acumen he lacked.

  So had Diane. She’d seen the collapse coming and gotten out, taking care of herself and no one else. If Aurora turned out to be like Diane...

  Aurora wasn’t Diane. He’d hidden behind that excuse too long.

  It had been easy buying into the isolationist theory, thinking turtles had the right idea, swimming around in that whole big ocean out there, not needing anyone. Why risk hanging around, making homes, raising kids, and losing the protective shelter of his shell?

  Aurora had shown him the fallacy of his theory. He’d loved shedding the heavy burden of his shell and walking into the bright kaleidoscope of her world. It hurt like hell thinking he needed to crawl back into isolation.

  Dammit! Didn’t Aurora understand what he’d been trying to tell her?

  Of course she didn’t. How could she understand when even he had no idea what he thought—or felt? It wasn’t about the damned computer—it was about living.

  He’d been holding back in so many ways he couldn’t begin to count them all. If he wanted Aurora instead of computers, now was the time to act on it—lay his pride and his future on the line for real.

  Ignoring the siren call of his laptop and the tool belt hanging over a chair, Clay reached for the telephone. He could climb up on the roof and think about things until his dying day and never really classify the way he felt about Aurora. He just knew not having her in his day was akin to losing sunsets and dawn.

  No more hiding. He was about to communicate in a big way.

  By the time Aurora returned, she’d have to understand that he was ready for a real relationship.

  o0o

  Rory listened to the CEO espousing the benefits of working with an up-and-coming bank situated in the heart of the city, while she glanced around the office that could be hers for the asking.

  Chicago had a fabulous skyline, far better than Charlotte’s. Her modern chrome-and-glass furniture would fit right into one of those high-rise apartment complexes across the way. She had several college buddies here, and she’d been wined and dined since arriving. She’d spent the last few days in interviews and her spare time finding trendy little restaurants, nightlife, and art galleries. She could have all that, if that was what she wanted.

  If that was what she wanted.

  She wanted a future with Clay. She would take the Monkey’s jukebox and Clay over bankers and Chicago’s most sparkling nightclubs any day of the week. But if Clay didn’t want her... She had to decide what was best for her, not anticipate a future she had no reason to expect, based on a man who might be in Tahiti tomorrow.

  As the CEO’s spiel wound down, Rory offered her hand. “You’ve made an excellent case for transplanting to Chicago, thank you. May I get back to you in a few days?”

  Rushing for the elevator and the airport limo waiting for her, she couldn’t believe she’d said that. She could handle anything that affected her family’s financial future from Chicago, probably better than at home. She’d have access to more funds, more people, more everything. She could find loans for the Binghams to develop the swamp, more distributors for Clay if he continued developing software, scholarships for Mandy. She’d have sources at her fingertips.

  She should have sealed the deal, signed the contracts, and offered to go to work right there and then. The money and benefits were fabulous. She could support her whole family without their ever having to earn another dime. She could build a garage for their new truck. She’d have all the security she’d ever craved. She could have the fast-paced city life that had been her dream since childhood.

  She was no longer that child.

  She argued with herself all the way back to Charleston. She cried, and hid the tear tracks by staring out the airplane window. She could have it all, everything money could buy, including the security her impoverished childhood demanded.

  The words to an old song immediately trilled in her mind: Can’t buy me lo-ove…

  But that was what life was about, wasn’t it? Choices. She could take a risk on the man who offered everything her heart desired, or she could have the security she craved. She couldn’t have both.

  She didn’t bother dissolving into the old protests of “It isn’t fair.” One made choices and paid the consequences. Risk everything for happiness, or take the safe road and be satisfied. Cissy had risked and lost. Rory had learned from her and always chosen the safe road.

  Loving Clay enough to throw away her career in hopes that he might love her back someday was the height of idiocy.

  She was still arguing with herself when she boarded the airport van in Charleston. For her family’s sake she needed to take the safe road, she reasoned as the car drove away from the airport. She had invested a lot of years in becoming a woman of the world. S
he no longer belonged in the rural town where she grew up.

  But her heart belonged there. It wept as she rode toward the clear blue skies and open marshlands of the coast. She craved a steaming bowl of crab gumbo, a brisk walk on the wet sand, and the familiar drawl and welcoming hugs of her neighbors.

  She craved the security of love as much as money.

  Maybe more. If it had been only her family’s love she craved, she might work this out. But she’d go crazy longing for the love of a man she couldn’t have. She didn’t dare take that path while her emotions scraped her raw. She had to think clearly, and Clay turned her thoughts into passionate sunsets and moonlit nights. Thinking wasn’t what she did around him.

  She had to take him out of the picture if she wanted to make a decision based strictly on known factors. Still, she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the courthouse clock as they drove through town. What had he done when he found out she’d left? She didn’t see anyone on the roof.

  Watching the crystal blue of the harbor out the car windows, she tried not to wonder what Clay was doing or thinking now. If she walked away, she would never have to wonder again.

  She blinked back tears as the driver turned the car down the road toward home. A convoy of trucks carrying balled and burlapped trees and shrubs blocked half the road. No one bought landscaping out here. People just dug up what they needed from the fields.

  “Looks like the highway department’s been busy,” the van driver said, gesturing toward a mountain of wood chips. “That used to be all burned trees last week. They even hauled out the roots so the land can be replanted. Someone has clout.”

  Jeff and Terry? Rory had a hard time believing that, but they’d promised, and here it was. She smiled at the sight of painters restoring the bubbled finish on Erly’s fence and more men crawling up ladders on his neighbor’s house. Perhaps the insurance companies had all gone together to start repairs at a quantity discount.