by Brenda Novak
“I did see him,” she said, out of the blue.
He blinked in surprise. “What?”
“I saw Bonner, but not while I was in Superior. He came to my house afterward.”
Parker tried to imagine Hope confronting the boy who’d gotten her pregnant. When she’d first come to Enchantment, she’d looked as if she was starving, and she probably had been—for food and for love. How could a guy who’d let a girl suffer like that live with himself, even if he had been only eighteen at the time?
“What for?” Parker couldn’t help asking.
“He wanted me to marry him.”
“You’re joking! After all this time? After what he did? I hope you told him to go to hell.”
“Actually, he told me I’d go to hell for refusing him.” She chuckled, as if to laugh off his remark, but Parker could tell she didn’t find it funny.
“Was it difficult?”
“Was what difficult?”
“Refusing him. Wasn’t he offering you what you wanted so badly ten years ago?”
“What I wanted ten years ago isn’t what I want now.”
They drove in silence for the next few minutes as Parker tried to figure out what she might want now. Her entire family with her—or freedom from the past? A husband and family—or complete autonomy and a career?
“Do you believe that Bonner’s right?” he finally asked.
“About what?”
“That refusing him means you’ll go to hell?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Why not?”
She attempted to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, but it was too short to be tamed. “Because I couldn’t go back to him even if I wanted to. He’s married to Charity, my middle sister. And two other women, besides.”
Parker gritted his teeth against the disgust that nearly overwhelmed him. “So he’d have four wives?”
“Until he married his fifth.”
“There’s no limit?”
“Not really, no.”
“Do the other wives have any say in who the man includes in the family?” Parker asked. “Any say in who he brings into his bed?”
“Each marriage supposedly comes as a calling from the church, so no one can argue with it. The Brethren bring in a certain man and tell him they’ve prayed about the situation and received an answer from God that he’s required to take so-and-so to wife.”
“What if he doesn’t want to marry?”
“He’s been taught, his whole life, that this is his duty. Most men go along with whomever the Brethren have chosen. They also make it clear which woman they’d like to have and, if they’re in good standing with the church, she might become a second or third wife.”
“Doesn’t anybody care what the woman wants?”
“Not especially.”
Parker couldn’t imagine such a total lack of regard. His mother had always been his mainstay. “You weren’t ever going to be Bonner’s second or third wife,” he said. “They were trying to force you into marrying someone else.”
“What happened with me and Bonner was different.”
Parker turned off the heat, which was beginning to feel stifling. “How?”
“A man’s supposed to have a vocation before he marries. Bonner had just graduated from high school and was expected to go to a two-year college. The Brethren claimed they prayed about our situation, but God’s answer was that we were not allowed to marry. They said God wanted to test my faith, to see if it was sufficient for my salvation, so they said I needed to marry Arvin.”
“Your uncle.”
She stared at him for several seconds. “You just happen to remember that, too?”
He grinned. “It’s all coming back to me now.”
She shook her head. “You’re not an easy man to figure out.”
“I’m not as difficult to understand as the men we’ve been talking about,” he grumbled.
She didn’t say anything.
“So Bonner’s married to your sister?” he asked.
“Yes. They have three children together.”
Parker wondered how badly that news had hurt Hope. She’d said she couldn’t marry Bonner because he had other wives. She hadn’t said she no longer had feelings for him. “So who did the Brethren choose for Faith?”
“Some old guy,” she said vaguely.
Lydia had already told Parker that Faith was married to her uncle. He was willing to bet that uncle was the infamous Arvin of old. But he wasn’t going to press Hope to admit or discuss it. He could certainly see why she’d rather keep that information to herself.
“Did you like St. George?” he asked, changing the subject.
She seemed to think long and hard before answering. “For the most part.”
“What did you like?”
“I enjoyed being independent. I had a good job, a nice place to live.”
“Did you meet anyone there? Ever consider getting married?”
She frowned. “I’m not cut out for marriage.”
At this announcement, he sat up straighter and lowered the radio. “Why not? Don’t you want kids?”
Something fleeting passed through her eyes, some small evidence of pain. Parker saw it, and then it was gone, and he didn’t want to know where that flash had come from or why it was there. “It wouldn’t be fair to marry just so I can have kids,” she said.
“True. But you’ll eventually find someone you want to share your life with, don’t you think?”
“I’m afraid not.” She shook her head as if completely convinced of her own words. “I’m not capable of falling in love.”
“Of course you are. You loved Bonner, right?”
“I loved Bonner,” she admitted. “But something in me broke after that.” The smile she gave him was slightly crooked. “Now all I care about is Faith.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
PARKER SAT BEHIND the wheel, his truck idling, as Hope went in to the gas station to use the rest room. After saying she’d never marry, she’d fallen asleep, only to wake up the moment they hit the outskirts of Taos and announce that she needed him to stop.
He watched her as she spoke to the attendant before trotting out with a key. Raising a finger to indicate she’d just be a minute, she crossed to the rest rooms beyond the pumps.
Now all I care about is Faith. Parker rubbed his chin, still smooth from his morning shave, as he contemplated those words. Maybe she cared about Faith, but she didn’t have any real faith, he thought. Not in love, and certainly not in her future. She believed only in what she could see and touch and do for herself, and Parker couldn’t say that he blamed her.
The unflinching way she dealt with such a bleak outlook had a strange effect on him, though. It made him want to shelter her, convince her that life wasn’t as precarious as she thought, at least not when she was with him.
Maybe it was because she reminded him so much of Dalton. It certainly wasn’t because she reminded him of any other woman he’d known, least of all Vanessa. Hope and the woman who’d been his wife weren’t anything alike. Hope came off tough enough to conquer the world, like some kind of scrappy street fighter with a chip on the shoulder. Vanessa had been cultured and refined. Almost clingy. Her emotions had gone only as deep as the next whim. Except for her obsession with having a baby…
Parker wondered how Vanessa would have managed had she been given Hope’s life. He couldn’t imagine her surviving, let alone thriving the way Hope had. Hope’s difficulties seemed to have strengthened her—so much so that he doubted she’d ever admit, even to herself, that she wanted anything more than what she had. And yet he sensed a hunger in her—
“Thanks for stopping,” she said, climbing in. “I got us each a Slurpee.”
She handed him one of the bright red-and-blue cups she’d been juggling when she opened the door, and out of nowhere, Parker decided Dalton would like her. Granted, she had the propensity to be a little too serious, but with time and the support of the right person�
�provided she ever met the right person—that could change. If she could learn to trust again. Unfortunately for Hope that was a big if.
He considered her love life as he put the truck in reverse and backed out of the parking space. Had she ever been with anyone other than Bonner? By twenty-seven, most women had accumulated plenty of sexual experience. But Hope wasn’t like most women. She was friendly to a point, but beyond that, she was decidedly remote. He couldn’t imagine her making love—at least not with any loss of control. She’d be guarded at best, he decided, and pitied the guy who fell in love with her.
“I should warn you that I’m no good with strangers,” she was saying. She’d propped her drink between her knees and was fixing the damage her nap had done to her hair in the lighted mirror on the visor.
“You look fine,” he said. “Just don’t spill that.”
“I’m not going to spill anything.” She snapped the visor up. “You’ve turned into a real grump in those ten years since I left Enchantment, you know that? It’s no wonder you haven’t remarried.”
Parker pretended to be fully absorbed as he approached the highway and waited for a break in traffic. “At least I plan to marry someday. Eventually,” he added because he certainly hadn’t made any concerted effort in that regard. After being hounded by Melody Rider and several other members of the PTA to get Dalton a mother, he’d had a few casual dates, but he had yet to meet anyone he considered a real possibility. Being married to Vanessa and having to put up with her controlling parents throughout the difficult years of her illness had taught him a few things. An important one being that there was a lot more to consider about a woman than the woman herself. Background, upbringing, family and associates were all part of the deal.
Which was another reason he felt sorry for whoever fell for Hope’s pretty face and tempting body….
“Well, if you plan to remarry, good luck,” she muttered.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, forgetting about pulling onto the highway.
She didn’t flinch as he turned to confront her. “You’ve changed. You used to be a nice guy, but now I don’t think you’d be very easy to live with.”
“I’m still a nice guy,” he countered.
She didn’t answer.
“Ask anyone.”
She sipped her Slurpee and gazed out the windshield, obviously expecting him to get on with driving. “I don’t need to ask anyone,” she said. “I can tell for myself.”
* * *
IT WAS AFTER FIVE when Hope checked her watch. She and Parker had taken a short break at noon to grab a sandwich at a small deli a few blocks away, but she was getting hungry again, and a little discouraged. She’d known she wasn’t the best salesperson in the world, but she’d thought she could find at least one sponsor.
Maybe Parker was having better luck.
Shading her eyes, she gazed to the west, where she’d last seen him disappear into a tall office building. As far as she could tell, he hadn’t come out of his last meeting yet.
Crossing the street, she headed toward Dino’s Italian Eatery—and nearly bumped into him as he emerged from a small appliance store.
“Looking for me?”
“Tell me you’ve found the funding we need.”
He frowned and shook his head. “I’m afraid not. I got the take-out pizza place to donate a coupon for a year’s worth of free pizza, though. And the vacuum-repair guy here said he’d give me two completely reconditioned vacuums.”
“We can’t go back to the clinic with only this,” she said.
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “We’ll just have to come again tomorrow or the next day.” He looked up at the sign above the restaurant closest to them. “But first, let’s eat.”
* * *
PARKER WATCHED HOPE sample her flan, feeling more relaxed than he’d been in her presence since she’d returned to Enchantment. They’d both called home and knew Faith and Dalton were fine. Dalton was with Bea, a grandmotherly type from his church; Parker paid her to baby-sit if he ever had to be away in the evening. And Faith was still at Gina’s.
“How’s the dessert?” he asked as the waitress brought his coffee. He’d ordered it as an afterthought—to keep him awake for the ride home. After plenty of chips and salsa, a margarita and a plateful of fajitas, he was just a little sleepy. The heat thrown off by the wood-burning stove in the corner of the hacienda-style restaurant probably wasn’t helping.
“Excellent,” she said. “Would you like to try it?”
“No, thanks.” He added cream to his coffee. “I wouldlike to know what you think might happen if Faith’s husband ever catches up with you, though.”
She tensed, and he almost regretted bringing up the subject now, when she seemed to be enjoying herself. But he doubted there’d be a better opportunity to ask. If he had his way, he wouldn’t be spending a great deal of time with Hope Tanner in the future.
“I’m not sure what he’d do,” she said, toying with her dessert.
“Is he violent?”
“I’d say so, yes.”
“How violent? He wouldn’t try to drag you and Faith back to Enchantment or hurt you physically, would he?”
“Maybe.” She took another bite of flan. “He’s done some things that definitely have me worried.”
“Like what?”
“Like…” She grimaced “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
“I want to know.”
She set her spoon down and shoved her dessert away as though she suddenly found it distasteful. “He came to St. George in the middle of the night and tried to break into my house. He cut the phone line, made a bunch of threats and the next morning I found my cat on the front doorstep, dead.”
Parker felt a surprising amount of anger. Hadn’t Hope been through enough?
“Actually, Oscar was more than dead,” she went on. “He was mutilated almost beyond recognition.”
“Tell me you called the police.”
“I did. They told me I could file a restraining order, but I knew, with this guy, it wasn’t going to do any good.”
Parker wished he could have a few minutes alone with Faith’s husband. “I’m sorry,” he said and reached across the table to take her hand. He’d meant his touch to be casual yet comforting, but Hope’s fingers were long, thin and definitely on the cool side. They felt almost…fragile. For a moment he was tempted to enfold them in his own, to warn them…
“I don’t want you to be sorry for me. I’m fine,” she said, pulling away.
Parker was grateful for her toughness. He couldn’t sympathize with her problems without wanting to take some sort of responsibility for them. He couldn’t take any responsibility without getting more deeply involved. And there was no way in hell he, of all people, could get more deeply involved with her. But that didn’t stop him from asking if Bonner was dangerous, too.
Hope took longer to answer this question. “I don’t think so,” she said. “He’s changed, but I’m sure he’s not warped. Not like Faith’s husband, at least.”
Don’t ask her anything else about Superior, a voice inside his head warned. He hadn’t liked any of her answers so far. But he knew this could be his only chance to learn more about Dalton’s biological father. “When Bonner visited you in St. George, did he ask about the baby?”
“No.”
“You don’t suppose he’d ever come here, do you?”
“Why would he? He doesn’t know where I was when I gave birth. And he has a lot of other children to keep him busy. I don’t think he cares about Autumn.”
“Autumn?”
A blush infused her cheeks. “That’s what I call her.” She leaned back as the waitress came with their check and carried the rest of the plates away, and Parker suddenly wished they’d grabbed a take-out pizza and headed straight home. He did not want to know how she coped with her lost child. Things were bad enough already.
When the waitress left, Hope continued, “Even if he could fi
nd her, I doubt he’d meddle in her life. She’s spent her most formative years in mainstream America, which means the concepts of the church would be so foreign to her she’d never convert. For the Brethren, raising a ‘righteous’ generation is the whole point of having children. They believe that those who don’t belong to the church are cast out of God’s kingdom forever. So to make a long story short, Bonner’s too involved in his own life, and in the bliss he feels he’s earned in the next one, to bother with Autumn.”
“But you’re not.”
“I have no other children. And no church, either. But it wouldn’t matter. I’d miss her just as much.”
Parker rubbed his chest because it felt as if his heart was knocking against his ribs. “Have you ever thought about looking for…her?”
He held his breath as Hope’s gaze settled on him, praying she wouldn’t recognize the guilt in his eyes. “All the time,” she said with such heartfelt honesty that he suddenly understood—and couldn’t help sympathizing with—the hunger he sensed in her. She was yearning for her child.
For his child.
For Dalton.
God, he knew he shouldn’t have asked.
* * *
PARKER INSISTED on paying for dinner. Hope accepted as graciously as possible, but as soon as he disappeared in the direction of the rest room, she leaned back in the booth and closed her eyes. She’d almost told him about the dreams that had started since her return to Enchantment, the ones where she saw Autumn yet couldn’t reach her. But the words had refused to leave her throat. That seemed to happen whenever she tried to share anything potentially painful.
Why couldn’t she break through whatever barrier separated her from the rest of the world? She felt as though she was going through all the right motions but not really experiencing life. When had she shut off so much of herself?
She couldn’t identify a time. It had occurred so gradually she’d never even realized it was happening. Burying her feelings helped her cope, and coping was all that had mattered—at first. As long as she could cope, she’d survive. But now…
She remembered the warmth she’d felt when Parker had covered her hand with his. Had she been capable, she would have given him some sort of welcoming sign—a smile, perhaps. Instead she’d sat there, wanting him to thread his fingers through hers, and simply because she was afraid of wanting such intimacy, she pulled away.