“It’s a beauty, honest,” he whined. “A ‘65 Mustang in mint condition. Worth a damn fortune. We can make a deal, if you’ll buy me a little time with your boss.” His heart pounded like a jackhammer in his chest. If this ruse didn’t work...He held his breath and tried not to think about the consequences.
Stub studied him through cold, gray eyes for a long time before he nodded slowly and tucked the .38 inside his jacket. “Okay, pipsqueak, but two days is all you get. Deliver the car to me, plus the money you owe the boss, by day after tomorrow, or else.”
Royce stiffened his legs to keep from collapsing. Two days. Sweat streamed from every pore in his body, while fear crawled around in his gut like a worm. He had to agree—or die.
“Okay, okay,” he stammered. “It’s a deal. Where do you want me to meet you?” He could barely push the words out between his chattering teeth.
Stub shot him a deadly glance right before he lumbered down the alleyway toward the street. “Don’t worry, Webb,” he said in a tone so menacing, Royce almost wet himself. “I’ll find you.”
The promise sounded like a death knell. Royce watched Stub leave, afraid to breathe, afraid to move until the dark sedan slid away from the curb. Then he dropped to his knees and cried like a baby before he headed for the bar.
“Hey, sugar, what brings you to this side of town?”
The inside of the tavern was dark and smoky, the sparse noon crowd beginning to thin, but Royce didn’t need bright lights to recognize the throaty greeting of the hip-swinging blonde advancing across the room like a heat-seeking missile.
“Hello, Didi.” He concentrated on his drink and purposely avoided her question. Lifting the glass to his lips, he closed his eyes and let the first gulp of whiskey burn its way slowly down his throat. Without opening his eyes, he tossed back another and waited while the heat spread through his system.
When his nerves finally began to smooth out, he allowed himself a brief survey of the room and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw he hadn’t been followed. He aimed a nod and a two-fingered motion at the bartender. Another double appeared in front of him before he had time to blink.
Gripping the glass to steady his still-shaking hands, he was thankful he’d been only a few steps away from the tavern door—and a drink. The liquid courage in his glass finally started to kick in, so he shifted his attention to the woman.
Didi hitched herself up on the bar stool beside him and ran one long, dark-red fingernail down his arm. “You look a little strung out, Webb. I know a much better way to calm your nerves than drinking, hon.” She lowered her thickly-mascara’d lashes and gave him a suggestive smile. “It’s been a long time. I’ve missed you.”
“Yeah. I’ve been busy.” He sipped his drink, slowly coming down from the high of total panic that had sent him rushing into the tavern after he’d finally stopped blubbering. He’d been too close to ending up with a bullet in his head. That frightening image kept spinning around in his brain, along with the urgent need to come up with a scheme for getting his hands on Walker’s Mustang. He needed money fast. Ogden wasn’t going to wait much longer. Casino owners rarely did.
The blonde walked her fingers up Royce’s arm and stroked his cheek. “Too busy to stop by once in a while?”
She leaned closer, swiveling the bar stool so that her breath swirled hot against his ear and her breasts brushed his forearm. “I thought for sure you’d be knocking on my door. Especially after the way Faith dumped you for Buddy Lee.” She made a little sympathetic sound. “You know, if my fiancée was pregnant with my kid and ran off to marry somebody else, I’d be downright pissed.” The tip of her tongue began a moist journey around her pouty lips. “She made you look like a chump, Royce. Or didn’t you want your kid? Was that the problem?”
He jerked around, not sure he’d heard her correctly. “Say that again. My kid? That’s impossible. She was playing around with that white trash, Walker, before we were ever engaged.” His fingers dug into Didi’s shoulder. “Where did you hear that wild idea?”
Didi shrugged out of his grasp. “Hey, not so rough. I don’t owe you anything, anymore. You dumped me, remember?” She sipped her vodka and tonic, eyeing him over the rim of her glass like a cat watching a mouse.
His head pounded ruthlessly, and his nerves started twitching all over again. What the hell was going on? The baby was his? If this was true, why was Buddy Lee involved? It made no sense.
“Don’t play games with me, Didi.” He lowered his voice to a menacing whisper. “What kind of proof do you have that the baby is mine? Where’d you get your information?”
“Like I said, I don’t owe you.” She angled her head provocatively and looked at him through lowered lashes. “But I might be persuaded to share more than information, if you know what I mean.” She wet her lips again, the pink tip of her tongue exposed just enough to convey a graphic invitation. “My place?”
Royce regarded her carefully. He couldn’t afford to take the chance of missing something as important as this, but his former lover had been known to twist the truth a time or two. Still, he remembered she’d been damned good in the sack.
“If you’re lying, you’ll regret it.” He downed the last of his drink as the germ of a plan took shape in his mind, a scheme that could have Walker handing over his car without an argument, if he played his cards right.
He’d made easy work of checking out the shop when Walker and Faith had been out of town. Simple procedure for someone with his expertise at covert B & E’s. He’d nearly gotten away with taking the car right then, but he’d miscalculated his time frame, and the damned alarm system kicked in before he had a chance to disarm it. But now he wasn’t going to have to break in after all. He mentally cheered. By the time he put this clever plan into action, Walker would be begging him to take the car.
Royce chuckled under his breath. Sometimes his own brilliance astounded him. By selling the car to pay off his loan to Ogden, he’d save his own neck and have money left over to leave the state. There was only one little hitch. He’d have to steer clear of Stub and make sure to get out of town before the goon realized he’d been double-crossed. That might take a little thought, but it wasn’t impossible.
The rest was a piece of cake. He really didn’t care whether Faith’s rug-rat was his or not. The kid was just a bargaining point. Besides, he’d be long gone before anyone noticed him missing. He’d drop the car off in Lake Charles and take a plane to the Bahamas. Perfect.
Didi shot him a sly look. “I don’t need to lie. My kid sister has a part-time job in Doc Sutton’s office filing medical records for him.” She rested one hand on Royce’s thigh, let it slide toward his crotch and linger briefly. “I can get you all the proof you need, sugah. And my price is negotiable.”
With a heavy-lidded wink, she eased off the bar stool, straightened her minuscule skirt with a yank and, hips swaying like a backyard swing, sashayed out of the tavern on a cloud of heavy magnolia fragrance.
Royce tossed some bills onto the bar and followed. With his nerves tranquilized by whiskey and his sexual appetite whetted by Didi’s voluptuous curves, he was more than ready to negotiate.
Buddy Lee helped Faith out of the truck when they reached their house, determined to wait until she’d had time to rest before questioning her about her conversation with Doc Sutter.
He hadn’t intentionally eavesdropped. Hell, the door to the examining room had swung open a crack. Old doc’s voice was about as quiet as a fog horn. Faith’s own words hadn’t exactly been hushed, either, and his attention had zeroed in on what he knew was a private discussion the minute Doc mentioned Faith’s previous bruises and their cause.
The temptation to charge into the examination room and demand the entire story had nearly catapulted him out of his chair. Thank God for the tiny bit of common sense that had kept him in place. And for Doc’s calming, but sparse, words of explanation. As soon as Faith felt better, he was damn well gonna ask for more details.
“You need to lie down.” He supported her with one arm and opened the screen door with the other hand.
Pale and shaky, she leaned on him as they walked, but he barely felt her slight weight against his own injured rib. The worry about her health as well as her safety consumed him.
“Maybe I’ll just rest on the sofa for a while,” she said.
“Huh-uh. Too many hard lumps. You’ll be more comfortable in bed.”
A faint smile teased the corners of her mouth. “Weren’t you the one who insisted the sofa was fine for sleeping?”
He grimaced. “That’s different. I’m not expecting a baby. Physically, I mean.”
She laughed quietly. “Well, that’s a news flash.”
The warmth of her laughter gave Buddy Lee a brief glimpse of what their life together might be if their marriage had been the culmination of shared love instead of the result of an old friendship.
He watched, hypnotized, when she stopped to fuss with a tiny arrangement of yellow and white daisies on the lamp table next to the sofa. He couldn’t ever remember having flowers anywhere in the house. Now, they blossomed in every room, thanks to Faith. In the few days since their wedding, she’d managed to turn the tiny house into a cozy nest, a safe haven away from the reproachful eyes of the community.
That same censure had dogged him for years. Boyd’s boy had lived under the town’s scrutiny his entire life, and he still struggled to escape the stigma of his father’s name.
Amazingly, Faith seemed completely at ease amidst the sparse furnishings in the little tract-house. Better than he managed to fare on his infrequent visits to the Morgan mansion. Their worlds were poles apart, yet she had adapted to his without a hitch. He would never fit into hers. Didn’t even try.
The room suddenly shrank, and the image of Royce holding Faith captive flashed across Buddy Lee’s mind. Whatever the price of her safety might be, he vowed somehow to provide it. Now, more than ever, she was his responsibility. The fact that he loved her totally and completely only made him more determined than ever to prove his worthiness. But it was beginning to look like Boyd’s boy was never going to rise above his daddy’s reputation.
“You really should take it easy, Faith. Remember what Doc Sutter said.” He placed a guiding hand on the small of her back and gently coaxed her into the bedroom.
“Think of the baby,” he quickly added, feeling guilty because he’d been more concerned about her than the child she carried.
“I think about it all the time,” she admitted with a sigh.
Her remark jogged his heartbeat up a notch, and he switched the conversation to a safer topic. “I’ll bring you something. Maybe the chicken I brought home earlier is still edible.”
One eyebrow quirked at him. “What about your sore ribs? You should be the one to rest.” Hesitantly, she touched his side.
Her fingers were heated probes shooting electric currents through his body. Jeez Looeeze. He forgot he even had ribs for a moment as other parts of his anatomy claimed his attention.
“Aw, I’ve had worse,” he said, playing down his injuries and trying to keep his voice calm. If he laid down beside her now, there’d be no rest for either one of them. Knowing that, he stepped back to keep from putting his own needy hands where they didn’t belong. His promise to take care of Faith sure as hell didn’t include sex.
Even though he stood a good two feet away from the bed, he could still feel the sizzle of her touch. What was wrong with him? She’d been hurt, for cryin’ out loud. Abused and threatened by a sorry piece of humanity with no conscience and the morals of a tomcat.
And that reminded him of the question he wanted cleared up, as soon as he brought Faith something to eat.
“Be right back.” He retreated to the kitchen, leaving her lying in bed, a puzzled look on her drawn face.
He hurried to rustle up a handful of potato chips to add to the cold fried chicken he’d arranged on a paper plate. Not very appetizing, he thought, grabbing an apple from the fridge and adding it to the quickie meal. After pouring a glass of milk, he carried the meager offering into the bedroom.
Faith looked at the single plate, then at Buddy Lee. “Aren’t you going to eat, too?” She wasn’t certain if she could keep the food down. Her stomach felt like one of those wave-machines at the water park.
“I’ll grab a chicken leg before I go back to work.”
He looked at her in the unique way he had that always alerted her to an oncoming question or admonition. Big brother stuff he used to pull when she’d gotten herself into trouble and her daddy threatened to send her to boarding school. Sometimes she wished she’d gone. Things would be a lot different now if she had.
She picked up a potato chip. “Want one?”
He shook his head. “Nope. But I do want some answers to a couple of questions.”
Studying him intently, she watched his gaze darken and let a deep sigh slide out. “I guessed as much.”
Concern crossed his bruised face, but she found herself searching for a deeper meaning in his troubled look. Something to explain the high-powered emotions they’d shared in that one unforgettable night. The night when she realized she wanted Buddy Lee as more than a friend.
“What do you want to know?” Certain now that when he learned the truth that special moment would never be repeated, Faith turned her head to hide her humiliation...and remorse.
Chapter Ten
“I heard what the doctor said, you know.” Buddy Lee shifted from one foot to the other. Crossed and uncrossed his arms, finally letting them dangle at his sides.
Faith’s eyes widened. “What did you hear?”
“Something about the fact that you’d had similar bruises before today. And that this wasn’t the first time Royce had slapped you around. Doc wasn’t exactly whispering, you know.”
He dragged his hand through his hair. His dark eyes filled with concern. “Truth is, while he was waiting for his nurse Doc told me about the last time this happened.”
The anxiety in his voice softened her heart. She wanted to embrace him, to thank him for caring, but she was ashamed of her inadequacy—the weakness that had prompted her to believe whatever Royce had wanted her to believe.
“For cryin’ out loud, Faith, how could you let him get away with stuff like that? You should’ve told me about him right from the start.”
His anxiety turned to accusation and she shrank back in the bed. “It wasn’t like you think. It only happened once before I came to you for help. And I left when he turned nasty.”
Buddy Lee’s throat worked and the muscles in his jaw tightened. His eyes grew cold and distant. “But, why wouldn’t you trust me with the whole truth? Were you afraid I’d refuse? Was that it? I thought you knew me better than that.”
His words were raw with emotion, ragged shards that sliced through her guilt with ruthless abandon. She had hurt him without realizing it. Without meaning to.
“It wasn’t like you think.” She wanted to explain, but his pained look of disappointment silenced her.
“I don’t get it, Faith. I just don’t get it.” With a shake of his head, he strode from the room.
The anguish in his departing words made her heart ache unbearably with the knowledge that he believed she’d betrayed him. Just like so many other times in her life, she kept disappointing the ones she cared about. Daddy, Mama, and now, Buddy Lee. She choked back a sob. Why couldn’t just one thing she did turn out right?
She carried her plate to the kitchen, put away the left-over chicken, and closed the bag of chips with a plastic clip.
Cold fingers of loneliness coiled around her heart. This feeling of desolation was something she’d never experienced before. Buddy Lee had always been there. Even after she’d admitted her mistake with Royce and stood up to her daddy about marrying Buddy Lee, she’d relied on his strength and support. Or had she only imagined his willingness to stand by her? His anger was painful for her to deal with, but the disappointment in his eyes was devast
ating. She’d never expected that.
Too confused and unsettled by her inner turmoil to go back to bed, she prowled around the tiny living room. A stack of mail carelessly tossed on the end table caught her eye, and she stopped to straighten it.
A thick, cream-colored envelope lay open on the top of the pile. She recognized the local bank’s logo. When she picked it up, a single piece of paper fluttered to the floor. She bent to retrieve it.
And gasped when she glanced through the missive. A quote for the purchase of the Mustang! This can’t be right. Buddy Lee would never sell his beloved car. She knew how much he prized the automobile.
Faith retreated to the sofa and spread the letter across her lap. Spotting another piece of paper in the envelope, she took it out and realized it was from the bank. Suddenly, everything was crystal clear. Daddy had found a way to call in the balance of Buddy Lee’s note, using some obscure legality buried in the original loan agreement. With the payment due by the end of the week, Buddy Lee must have decided to sell his car in order to keep from losing his shop.
Angry tears stung her eyes. Her stupid mistake had snowballed, and now her best friend was going to lose everything he’d worked for. No wonder he didn’t trust her. She’d ruined his life with her selfishness, insisting that he marry her. Help her out of a mess one more time. A mess of her own making that could’ve been prevented if she hadn’t been in such a hurry to get married and have a family of her own.
Well, she was going to have her family, all right, but at what price? She had no right to expect Buddy Lee to accept Royce’s baby as his own. No right at all.
Stuffing the letters back into the envelope, she left them on the end table and went to the bedroom closet to retrieve her suitcase. Somehow, she had to make things right.
The afternoon sun sifted through the dirt-smudged windows of his repair shop and bounced off the glossy surface of Buddy Lee’s own private treasure. He stared wistfully at the shiny red Mustang as he wiped an imaginary speck of dust from the hood. Damn, he loved this car. The thought of having to sell it tore his guts right out, but there was no way in hell to come up with enough money to pay off his loan unless he did just that.