From Glowing Embers (13 page)

Julie Ann was living in a garage apartment beside a large, ramshackle house that was only in slightly better repair than the one she had grown up in. Gray slammed his fist against the steering wheel at the sight. He wondered how little money his father had settled on her that she had been driven to live in such a place.

As he was deciding where to spend the next hours, lights went on in the apartment. He saw a figure silhouetted against the drawn shades, and his decision was made.

He slammed his car door and sprinted across the lawn, taking the steps of her apartment two at a time. He rapped sharply on her door. “Julie Ann, it’s Gray,” he called.

There was no answer.

He tried the door and was surprised to find it unlocked. There was no sign of her inside the shabby apartment; then he heard the sound of a toilet flushing. He was standing in the middle of the living room when she came out of the bathroom, rubbing her face with a towel. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and her cheeks were flushed. Her thin white nightgown did nothing to hide the almost skeletal lines beneath it.

“Gray!” She shut her eyes and swayed.

He was across the room in a second, pulling her to rest against him. He felt her slump, and he lifted her easily and carried her to the sofa. She weighed as little as a child. He laid her down, then knelt beside her, chafing her hands in his. “Julie Ann.”

She lay still for almost a minute, stirring at last as he called her name again. Her eyes fluttered open, and she turned her head, focusing slowly. “Gray?”

“You fainted.”

“I do that sometimes.”

“You’re not allowed to anymore.”

“Why are you here?”

“Guess.”

Her gaze locked with his. “I can’t.”

He took in the pain in her eyes, and it went through him to become his, too. She looked fragile enough to break into pieces. In that moment he knew she had never expected to see him again. “What did my father tell you?”

“He told me not to get in touch with you. I wasn’t going to, anyway.”

“I didn’t know until tonight—last night—that you were pregnant.”

“You shouldn’t have come.”

He reached up and stroked her cheek. She was deathly pale now, but her eyes were feverishly bright. He wondered if she was ill as well as pregnant. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She turned her face to the back of the sofa. “Go away, Gray. There’s nothing you can do here.”

“I can marry you.”

She didn’t answer.

“I want to marry you,” he insisted. “It’s my baby you’re carrying, Julie Ann. I have a right to be a real father to it.” He saw her swallow convulsively. “Are you all right?” he asked. “Are you going to throw up?”

Tears ran down her cheeks. “You didn’t want a baby.” Her voice cracked. “You said it would ruin our lives.”

“I didn’t think you’d really get pregnant. It was so unlikely.”

“Better one life ruined than two.”

“Is that why you didn’t tell me?”

“Your father said if I told you and you married me, he’d kick you out with nothing.”

“So you took his money instead.”

She faced him. “I haven’t spent any of it. Do you think I want to touch one dirty penny? I’ve been living on the money I saved myself. He’ll get every cent back.”

“And you were going to give our child away?”

“Never!” She tried to sit up, but she fell back against the cushions. “Nobody’s going to take this baby away from me!”

“Calm down.” He tried to stroke her hair, but she pushed his hand away. “I had to know,” he explained.

“Now you know. Just get out and leave me alone.”

He stood, then scooped her up like a limp Raggedy Ann doll and carried her toward her bedroom.

She resisted with what little strength she had, but he ignored her. “You’re going to bed,” he told her calmly. “And I’m going to crawl in beside you. Tomorrow morning we’re going to drive to Alabama, get a license and find a preacher. I don’t know where we’re going to go, or what we’ll do after that, but wherever it is, we’ll be together.”

“I don’t want to marry you.”

He set her down and pinned her to the bed so she couldn’t escape. “Look me in the eye and tell me that.”

She tried, but her eyes shifted as she said the words. “I don’t want to marry you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked again. “Did you really think I wouldn’t want to know?”

Tears filled her eyes. “I didn’t want you to feel sorry for me. I didn’t want you to hate me.”

“Of course I feel sorry for you. I feel sorry for me, too,” he said truthfully. “This isn’t the best thing for either of us right now, but we can make something good out of it, sweetheart, if you’ll give it a chance.”

“What about...” Her voice trailed off.

He waited, but no more was forthcoming. “Don’t worry about my parents,” he assured her.

“What about your girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend?”

“You father said you had a ‘pretty little gal over at Ole Miss,’“ she quoted, imitating Judge Sheridan perfectly.

Gray laughed. “You do my father better than he does.” He thought of Paige, then dismissed her. “There’s no one else, Julie Ann.” He stood and began to strip off his tux. He remembered her present when he was holding the jacket in his hands. He reached inside for it and held it out to her. “I was going to give you this last night. It seems like a million years ago.”

She propped herself up to unwrap it, then fingered the gold chain. “It’s beautiful.”

“Put it on.”

She shook her head.

“Why not?”

She lifted her eyes to his. “You bought me this before you knew about the baby?”

He nodded.

“Then I’ll take this instead of a wedding ring.”

Gray wasn’t sure she knew that she had just given him her answer. “How about that and a wedding ring, too?”

“No. You got me this because you wanted to, not because you had to.”

“Then I can put it on for you later today?”

Her nod was so slight that he wasn’t sure he’d seen it.

“At our wedding?” he probed.

“Yes.”

He finished undressing, then slid under the sheet to put his arms around her. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, pulling her to rest against him. “I won’t ever let anything hurt you this way again.”

She sighed, and he wondered if it was in relief or resignation. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she said huskily, “because I might start to believe them.”

“Believe them.” He held her tight and prayed that he would be able to give her the warmth, the love, the beauty she needed in her life. At that moment there was nothing in the world he wanted more.

JULIANNA AWOKE GRADUALLY
to the muffled sounds of a television hurricane advisory. For a moment she was confused. The one silver lining to the poverty of her childhood had been that she had not grown up with a television set that worked for very long. It had been an odd blessing, because she had discovered the world of the printed word and read herself right into a brighter future and better education than the one that had been bequeathed her.

As a result she had never bought a television. She preferred books and her work, and now the sound was an unwelcome intrusion.

Pushing her hair off her cheek, she opened her eyes. The events of the last twenty-four hours came rushing back.

“Gray.”

The sound of his name spoken aloud was as haunting as the moaning wind. She propelled herself upright and stumbled to the window. She opened the curtains with a jerk and looked down on the fury of hell. Closing them quickly, she leaned against the wall, her knees weak.

“Julianna?”

She raised her head to see Gray standing in the doorway.

“Are you all right?” His eyes were lit with concern—and something else she refused to contemplate.

“I’m in top form,” she answered, trying to smile.

The smile that answered hers was a sensually charged tightening of his mouth. “That’s right on target.”

Julianna was suddenly aware of how little she was wearing—suddenly aware of that and Gray’s provocative stare. Unconsciously she straightened a little, and the movement thrust her breasts against the satin of her gown. She could feel her body’s subtle changes, and they amazed her, just as the look in Gray’s eyes amazed her. For a moment she could almost believe it was hunger. But that was ridiculous.

She straightened further. She refused to run for cover. That kind of a virginal response was laughable under the circumstances. She covered the confusion of the last seconds with a question. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Dillon took Jody downstairs for breakfast. Apparently she had a bad night. The storm kept her awake for part of it.”

“And what kind of night did you have?”

He listened to the husky music of her voice and wondered what she would say if he told her the truth. He had awakened that morning and believed for a moment that he was back in Jackson, Mississippi, on the morning of their wedding day. “I didn’t sleep well,” he acknowledged. “And you?”

“Neither did I.”

“I shouldn’t have forced the discussion last night. Not with everything else going on.”

She was surprised at his words because she knew she should be the one apologizing. She had been rude, flippant, spiteful, all the things she suspected she might be again if they kept talking. She was finding out things about her own maturity that she hadn’t known, and she wasn’t pleased.

“This can’t be easy for you, either,” she said, struggling to be fair. “Supposing we just agree not to discuss the past anymore? I’ve made a life for myself here in the islands. You’ve made a life for yourself in...” She stopped. “Granger Junction?”

“My home’s in Biloxi now.”

She was surprised. Gray was supposed to have followed in his father’s footsteps. She’d expected him to be the next Judge Sheridan of Granger Junction. “I’ll give you an uncontested divorce,” she went on, trying to sound businesslike. “You can file, or I will. It makes no difference to me.”

“Right now we’ve got a hurricane to worry about.”

“Have they named her? Or is this one a him?” She turned back to the window and opened the curtains a crack.

He watched the fabric of her gown ride higher as she turned. Averting his eyes from the smooth, golden length of her legs, he wondered what was the matter with him. This was the woman who had just casually promised him a divorce. He shook his head at his own irrational response as he answered. “The storm’s a her. They’re calling her Eve.”

“That’s appropriate. Only this time she’s destroying the garden before she gets turned out of it.” Julianna willed herself to gaze out at the palm trees lining the avenue in front of them, palm trees that were bowing in unison like lords at a coronation.

“I just caught the latest advisory. They aren’t sure what to expect yet. She seemed to be moving, but now she’s stalled again. She could burn herself out, or hit us with all she’s got.”

“I love being reassured.”

“I’ve never lied to you.”

Strangely enough, he was right. Whatever else Gray had done, he hadn’t lied. “I know,” she said, her back still turned.

“And I’m glad you’re not lying now. I just wish the news were better.”

“There won’t be any flights out today, no matter what happens.”

She sighed. “I’m going to have to call friends and see if I can stay with them.”

“Jody and I tried to get through to her mother a little while ago. Phone lines are down all over the island.”

She continued to look out at the avenue and assess her chances of getting where she needed to go. They weren’t good, nor were her chances of finding someone at home any better, even if she got there. If people were being forced to evacuate, her friends could be among them. And if they weren’t gone, they might have their hands full with other evacuees.

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

There was no way he was going to tell her his plan. Not here. Instead he told her the first step. “I’m going to take you to breakfast.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“Feeding you’s a habit.”

She didn’t want to talk about habits, and she knew that if she refused, the conversation would quickly turn serious. Here they were alone. At least in the dining room they would be surrounded by people. “If I go, I don’t want to talk about the past,” she warned.

“Only present tense allowed.”

She smiled reluctantly. “I’ll meet you downstairs in a few minutes.”

The dining room was crowded when she arrived. Gray was sitting with Dillon and Jody, and he signaled her to join them. She was relieved to see that there would be no chance for private conversation.

“The hotel’s coping well, under the circumstances,” Gray told her as she was seated, “but the menu was limited this morning, so I ordered for you.”

“Thank you.” Julianna looked around the table. “Is everybody doing all right?”

“I don’t want it to rain anymore,” Jody said.

Julianna reached across the table and put her hand on the little girl’s. “I don’t like it, either, but you know what?”

Jody looked up, interested. “What?”

“Some Hawaiians used to believe that rain was the teardrops of the gods. Hawaii’s the wettest of the fifty states, so if you’re going to be an honorary islander, you’ve got to get used to a little water.”

“Are you used to it?” Jody asked.

Julianna opened her mouth to reassure the girl, then shook her head. “No.”

Everybody laughed, including Jody, who laced her fingers through Julianna’s like an old friend. “I thought you were scared,” she said with adult perception. “We can be scared together.”

Julianna looked down at the little hand so trustingly meshed with her own. She swallowed. “I’d like that.”

Gray watched Julianna, unhappy at the vulnerability in her eyes. So many years had passed, and yet she could still be shaken by a little girl’s friendship. What had life done to her? What had
he
done?

“My mommy says when you’re scared, you have to eat to get up your courage,” Jody counseled.

“A very wise mommy.” Julianna squeezed Jody’s hand, then withdrew her own as their waiter arrived. She looked at the heavily laden tray and wondered if she would be able to eat a bite.