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Her Small-Town Hero

Page 17

by Arlene James


  “Then you shouldn’t give it up,” Holt stated, hating that she’d done so even temporarily.

  She shook her head, smiling. “No, it’s best this way. It will be easier all around, for Ace especially. Besides,” she added, “it feels more like we—” Breaking off, she looked away.

  “Belong,” he said, finding the word only as he said it. She nodded, keeping her gaze averted. Maybe that’s because you do, he thought. Waving a hand, he silently invited her to take a look inside the room.

  She stuck her head in, looking over the sleek furniture. “This is nice stuff. Are you sure you want to give it up?”

  “I don’t ever use it. Besides, Charlotte’s old furniture is much finer. It’s just bigger and more ornate than my usual style.”

  Cara shot him a shy smile. “I think I prefer your style.”

  “Okay. We’ll swap it out then.”

  Her glowing smile was all the thanks he needed, enough to tell him that he’d been kidding himself long enough. The time had come to face facts. He still didn’t know if anything could or should come of them, but he could no longer deny that his feelings were fully engaged.

  He knew that he would be spending long hours in earnest prayer about that, leaving it to God how it all ultimately played out. He could only hope that, when all had been said and done, no one would be the worse for it.

  Charlotte and Ty took their leave on Wednesday, the day before Valentine’s Day. Cara and Ace settled into the apartment, his new crib tucked into a corner of the bedroom. A high chair and baby monitor had been acquired from the Dilberry attic, as well the fine oak crib. Cara felt almost like a part of the family, but that did not prepare her for what she found when she walked out of the bedroom the next afternoon with a newly awakened Ace in her arms.

  Holt and Hap stood shoulder to shoulder, the former in his Sunday best, the other holding a mixed bouquet of flowers and a huge, heart-shaped box of chocolates.

  “Happy Valentine’s Day,” Holt said. Cara promptly burst into laughing tears.

  “Couldn’t let the day go by unnoticed,” Hap rasped, handing over the goodies. “Now go get yourself changed. Holt’s taking you out on the town.”

  “Oh, but—”

  “Grover and Marie are coming over with dinner, so don’t be worrying none about me and the boy,” Hap insisted.

  “Charlotte left something in the closet for you,” Holt told her. While Cara stood with her mouth open, he took Ace from her, adding, “And by ‘town,’ Hap means Lawton.”

  “That’s fifty miles away!”

  “So we’d best get an early start.” With that, he turned her by the shoulder and gave her a little shove. Cara dithered for a moment, but then she rushed back into her room, excitement filling her. To think that they’d all done this for her! Hurrying to the closet, she found the garment bag hanging from the rod. She’d wondered why that had been left in there but had assumed that it contained some memento of Charlotte’s. Opening the bag, she found a long-sleeved black velour knit dress with a square neckline and a pair of black velvet mules with kitten heels.

  Blessing Charlotte for her generosity, Cara threw off her own clothes and went to work. Twenty minutes later, she stepped out of the bedroom, her heart pounding. With the use of a rubber band and a few pins, she’d managed to put up her hair in a simple twist with a spray of wisps coming out the top. Her plain, gold hoop earrings and a small pendant added a touch of glamour. Because she was shorter than Charlotte, the sleeves of the dress puddled at her wrists and the slightly flared skirt reached almost to her ankles, but Cara didn’t think that mattered any more than the shoes being a couple sizes too large.

  Both Holt and Hap stood up when she entered the room. Now Holt came forward with a crooked elbow. “Beautiful,” he said. “Elegant. Perfect.”

  Cara beamed, and she kept beaming all through the evening.

  The drive, filled with lighthearted conversation about Charlotte’s recently improved sense of style, proved shorter than Cara expected. Perhaps, she mused, it had something to do with the company. Holt had made reservations at one of the finer restaurants in Lawton, so Cara soon found herself following a smiling young waitress through a dimly lit room tastefully decorated against a backdrop of oak planking and black lacquer. As they wound their way through tables dressed with black linens and red roses, Cara felt Holt behind her, his hand riding gently against the small of her back.

  Compared to some of the restaurants Addison had frequented back in California, the place would probably be thought fairly pedestrian, but Cara appreciated the quiet atmosphere and the aura of privacy that came with it. Holt stepped up and quickly pulled out her chair for her as the waitress placed their menus on the table. Taking his seat opposite her, Holt laid aside his menu without even looking at it.

  “You seem to know what you want,” she noted, skimming her gaze over the heavy parchment page of her own menu.

  “I do, yes.”

  She looked up into his warmly glowing eyes. Something shimmered between them, but she pushed it away. Best not to let her imagination run away with her. This amounted to an act of kindness on his part, not a declaration of romantic intent. She sat up a little straighter. “You’ve been here before then?”

  “Nope.” After a moment, he looked down, smoothing his napkin across his lap. “I took a look at the menu on the Internet.”

  “Ah.”

  He folded his hands together. “Had to be sure it was the right sort of place.”

  “The right sort of place for what?”

  “For a beautiful woman and a special occasion.”

  Cara caught her breath. She dared not take his sweet words too seriously, however. They were not sweethearts. This was just Holt taking care of her as he took care of everyone around him. His kindness and generosity moved her, though, misting her eyes. She looked back to the menu, saying softly, “Thank you.”

  “It’s my pleasure,” he told her. “This is nice. To tell you the truth, I can’t remember the last time Valentine’s was anything but just another day to me.”

  Cara remembered all too well her last Valentine’s Day. Hugely pregnant, she’d sat home alone while Addison had claimed to be entertaining important clients. He’d come in long after she’d gone to bed and seemed peeved in the morning because she hadn’t been appropriately thrilled with the wilted bouquet of flowers that he’d left on the kitchen counter the night before. Even sitting here in a borrowed dress and shoes that were too large, she felt special and pampered by comparison.

  She tried to derail those feelings, knowing that they were unwarranted and dangerous, but Holt’s smile and easy manner disarmed her. Now that he knew her true identity, he’d been generous to a fault. She almost missed the old suspicious Holt. At least she’d had no doubt where she’d stood with him. If he ever learned the whole truth about her, his generosity and thoughtfulness would undoubtedly turn to disdain. She prayed that never happened.

  After a leisurely dinner, Holt surprised Cara yet again by announcing that he had prepurchased movie tickets via the computer. As he escorted her out of the restaurant, he remarked repeatedly that he hoped he’d made a good choice. Nothing she said seemed to lessen his concern on that score.

  Once they arrived at the movie theater, Cara began to understand where that surprising angst came from, as it quickly became evident that he’d never laid eyes on the place before. He seemed somewhat befuddled by the electronic ticket checker and a tad overwhelmed by the multiple offering of the many screens. Finally, they found the correct theater and excused their way past a long row of early arrivals to take the only pair of remaining seats.

  The film, a comedy, kept them both in stitches. It was not one that Cara would have chosen, but she found it surprisingly charming, almost as charming as the man at her side. Once as they were both reeling with laughter, their shoulders collided. Holt casually slid his arm around her, and there it stayed. She refused to read anything into that, but she could not deny that she f
elt protected, even perhaps, just a little bit, treasured.

  They left the theater chuckling over their favorite bits, so the ride home began in laughter. As talk dwindled, however, Holt switched on the radio, filling the truck with dreamy music fit for the occasion. By the time they arrived back at the motel, Cara floated on a sea of relaxed delight.

  Holt accompanied her as far as the kitchen, but there in the dark, he drew her to a halt, pulling her into his arms. She went willingly, no longer able to pretend that the occasion and the evening had not affected them. Her heart clutched tight in a fist of emotion. She told herself that she deserved this moment, to believe in the possibility of romance. What if…But good sense refused to be ignored. A man like Holt did not indulge himself frivolously, and he might well regret this one small incident.

  “Holt,” she whispered, “are you sure about this?”

  He pressed a finger to her lips. “I’ve already said everything there is to say to myself about it.”

  “In that case…” She twined her arms around his neck, lifting her face. “Thank you for tonight.”

  They kissed for a long while. It wrapped around them like a warm blanket, that kiss, bundling them together in a way that neither could quite explain. Afterward, they simply stood together, her head tucked beneath his chin. Finally, he pulled away, leaving her there in the warm, silent darkness, at peace for the first time in far, far too long.

  It wouldn’t last, of course. Sunday’s sermon brought the same crushing sense of guilt that had haunted Cara from the first, and Wednesday’s prayer service left her once more in silent, aching tears that seemed to destroy the careful, joyful truce in which she and Holt had been operating. He grew frustrated with her on the way home to Ace and Hap, who had stayed in because his arthritis had worsened with the continuing cold weather.

  “Why can’t you get it through that pretty little head of yours that I only want to help?” Holt demanded of her as they swept into the apartment through the kitchen door. She only shook that “pretty little head,” biting her tongue against a snappish reply, before walking straight into disaster.

  Chairs scraped back from the far side of the table, a figure rose, leaving Hap seated in his usual chair, a worried expression on his long, weathered, beloved face.

  “Cara, honey,” he rasped. “This fellow says he’s come to take you and Ace back to California. I told him there must be some mistake.”

  Cara stared into the glittering eyes of her brother, and a scream gathered in her chest, a wail of grief and betrayal, but she locked it inside. She had known. All along she had known that it would come to this. Her sins had finally caught up with her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “N o mistake,” Eddie said, grinning like the scheming cad he was. “Right, sis?”

  “How did you find me?” she asked with the calm that came from accepting one’s doom.

  Eddie smugly rocked back on his heels. As usual, he wore too much cologne and a cheap, orangey-tan jacket over rust-colored pants and a matching T-shirt, his light brown hair slicked back from his face to curl at his nape.

  “Wasn’t so tough. Couldn’t be any doubt where you’d head. I just drove by Aunt Jane’s old house, and this nice young couple there told me a guy had come by looking for information.” He slid a glance a Holt, who seemed frozen in place. “Said he wore a cap with a company logo and the words ‘Jefford Exploration’ on it. Took a little while to put two and two together and come up with the Heavenly Arms Motel.” He looked around him then, a thinly veiled sneer curling his lips. “You come down in the world, sis.”

  “Don’t you dare!” Cara hissed angrily.

  “Seems to me we ought to take this to the front room before someone accidentally wakes our boy,” he said.

  “Our boy?” Eddie queried avidly. “Ace is here?”

  “Of course Ace is here!” Cara snapped. “Where else would he be except with his mother? Where he belongs.”

  “Well, now,” Eddie said. “That’s a matter of opinion, isn’t it?”

  She had no doubt of Eddie’s opinion on the matter. Sick with dread and dismay, she made herself face Hap. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I’d like to speak to my brother in private.”

  Hap glanced at Holt, who took a half step forward. After a moment, Hap nodded. “You just holler if you need anything.”

  She turned away, intending to take Eddie out the back through the kitchen and across the lot to her old room, where they could be assured of privacy. Perhaps, she thought wildly, if she could just keep him quiet for a bit, put him off somehow, she might find a moment to run. Sickened at the prospect, she could not so much as look at Holt, even when his hand shot out and fastened around her wrist.

  “Cara? Are you sure about this?”

  Eddie appeared in front her, wearing his jolly, buddy-to-the-world smile. “Hey, I’m her brother, man. Didn’t she ever mention old Eddie?”

  “Is that true? Is he your brother?”

  “Yes, unfortunately, he is.”

  “He-e-ey,” Eddie protested mildly.

  Flaying him with her gaze, Cara ground out, “Just don’t let him anywhere near my son.”

  “Don’t worry,” Holt said, releasing her.

  She finally chanced a glance in his direction and found him staring a threat at Eddie. She loved him for that. Who was she kidding? She’d loved Holt for a long time already. This just gave her one more reason to regret whatever must come, one more way to break her heart.

  Brushing past Eddie, she led the way out of the apartment. He made comments about the weather—too gray and too cold—as they crossed to the room. She let him in, then stood back and waited.

  “Man,” Eddie said, turning in a slow circle in the midst of her room. He shook his head, looking up at her from beneath the rise of his brow. “Even the clinic beats this dump, wouldn’t you say?”

  “No, I wouldn’t,” Cara told him. “Not that it matters. I’m not going back.”

  He shrugged and slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks, sneering down at the sofa as if to say he wouldn’t dare sit there. “Not willingly, maybe.”

  Chilled, Cara folded her arms. “You can’t make me go back, Eddie.”

  “No,” he conceded, his tone light, unconcerned. “But the Elmonts can.” He pegged her with a look then. “They’ve got a commitment order, Cara. They can come after you anytime they want. But it’s not too late.”

  “I’m not going back,” she repeated, hating the hint of desperation in her tone.

  “We can still fix this. All the Elmonts care about is getting their grandson back. You come with me and everyone wins.”

  Cara let out a bark of derisive laughter. “And how do you figure that, Eddie? I really want to know.”

  “Simple.” He spread his hands. “We negotiate a nice settlement, with visitation rights, for guardianship, and Ace grows up in the lap of luxury. That’s better than them winning full custody in court, isn’t it? I can even fix it so you don’t have to go back to the clinic.”

  “That’s very big of you, Eddie,” she said sarcastically. “And just what is it that you get out of this benign arrangement?”

  He waved a manicured hand. “Man’s got to earn a living. You cut me in on the settlement, say fifty-fifty.” He looked her in the eye then, adding, “Or there’s always the finder’s fee. Your choice.”

  “The Elmonts have offered a reward,” she guessed, not at all surprised.

  “Chicken feed compared to what we can take them for,” he said urgently.

  “You mean for what we can sell my son for!” she erupted.

  He shrugged, cool as a cucumber. “Call it what you want. They’re just two loving grandparents willing to give up a fortune to insure the well-being of their only heir.”

  “What?” Cara gasped. “Their only heir?”

  “Didn’t you know? They cut out Addison and his sister the day he told them you were pregnant. They always intended to raise the boy. Addison would have arr
anged it himself if he hadn’t died like that.”

  “For a price, no doubt!” Cara spat, reeling. Was there no limit to her late husband’s greed and self-centeredness?

  “Look, you can’t blame Addison,” Eddie said. “You know how the Elmonts are.”

  “Controlling, manipulative. They have to own everything and everyone around them.”

  “And they’ve got the money to do it,” Eddie confirmed. “But, hey, beats a shabby fourth-floor walk-up and an old lady more concerned about her next fix than dinner, you know? At least, that’s the way I figure it.”

  “You talk like it has to be one or the other,” Cara argued. “Didn’t Aunt Jane show you that there’s another way?”

  “Aunt Jane,” Eddie scoffed. “What was it about her that got to you? She never had anything in her whole life, not even her own kids.”

  “She had love, Eddie. She had love to give.”

  “Love,” Eddie echoed dismissively. “That and five bucks will get you a decent cup of coffee.” He waved a hand. “Well, it doesn’t matter now. Old girl’s gone, and the Elmonts are coming.” He thumped himself in the chest. “I’m your best shot of staying out of the loony bin now, kid, and you know it.” He winked and added, “Has old Eddie ever steered you wrong?”

  Cara shook her head, not in answer to his question, but in wonder that he had never appreciated what Aunt Jane had offered them, someone to love and be loved by. That and that alone had saved her from following in their mother’s footsteps. Maybe that was all she really had to offer her son, too, but it would be more than the Elmonts could give him with all their money.

  “You think about it,” Eddie said, patting her shoulder.

  Those were the same words he’d used when urging her to date Addison way back when, though she’d known even then that she was too young, too vulnerable. She had listened to him once, but never again. Poor Eddie. He just didn’t understand that he’d used up every bit of his credibility with her then.

 

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