Son of a Preacher Man (23 page)

“But you know how you feel, don’t you? All this other crap aside, in your heart you’ve already made the decision.”

“But if I move here the best I could ever be is a small-town lawyer. Even if I go to work in Canton, it isn’t anything like Manhattan.”

“So what? Do you want to be happy or not? Do you really think working your
tuckus
off is going to make you happy? Has it worked so far?”

“I haven’t been unhappy.”

“No, but you haven’t dated anyone since that broker, and that was more friends with benefits than an actual relationship. I say go for it.”

“I haven’t even listed the cons yet. I thought we were being logical about this?”

“Cons, schmons. What’s the worst that could happen? He breaks your heart? So then you move back to New York and lose yourself in contracts.”

“But I worked so hard to get where I am. I hate the idea of throwing that all away.”

“Bah, you’re throwing nothing away. It’s not like you’re getting disbarred. You can always find another job. You can’t always find another love.”

“But will you come visit me?”

“No. I’m never going south of the Mason Dixon line again. My hair can’t take the humidity. You can come to New York and get some civilization. An hour in bridge/tunnel traffic, and you’ll be thrilled to go back to the sticks.”

“You’re probably right.” Nadya’s brain seemed much clearer now. She still had a lot of thinking to do, but Sandra had laid things out for her. “Don’t say anything at work yet. I still have more vacation time, and I don’t want to burn any bridges.”

“Keep me posted on what happens. And I want to meet this J.T. before you run off and marry him.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. And Sandra, thanks. This helped a lot.”

“What are friends for?”

Nadya disconnected and breathed in the silence of the evening. If she listened hard enough she could hear the creek trickling in the distance. The sound soothed her like nothing else. In the city there was constant noise and constant movement. It was never fully dark or quiet. Some of her friends embraced the chaos, thriving on it. She’d tolerated it but could never quite get over the need for some peace every once in a while. It would be a shame to lose this little corner of peace in the world.

She turned to go inside before she got eaten alive, and pain shot up her arm. That was one part of the equation she hadn’t mentioned to Sandra. Someone in this town wanted her gone in the worst way.

Well, too bad.

If she decided to leave it wasn’t going to be because someone forced her out. They’d made a huge mistake coming after her like that, because it only made her want to dig her heels in harder.

Nadya kicked off her sandals and padded barefoot to the kitchen. J.T. stood by the stove with a beer in one hand and stirring a pot of something with the other. He’d taken off his uniform and wore jeans and a T-shirt and looked good enough to eat. He still took her breath away every time she saw him.

“Hey,” she called softly so as not to startle him.

“Oh, good, you’re done. The soup’s almost ready. Who were you on the phone with?”

“My friend, Sandra, from New York. She wanted to be kept in the loop.”

“And what did you tell her?”

“Not everything, that’s for sure. You know, I’ve lived in New York City for twelve years and never once been mugged. I’ve been in Dale a week and had my car trashed and been assaulted.”

“I’ve been a cop in Dale for five years, and we haven’t had an assault or vandalism like that since I’ve been here.”

“Are you saying it’s my fault?”

“No, I’m saying it’s damn weird. I know you think we’re a bunch of redneck bigots, but things really are different. We have several Hispanic families, and they’re part of the community. I don’t recall anyone threatening them when they moved here.”

“Orleane Campbell told Mary Ellen not to hire Rosa because she’s Mexican,” she couldn’t resist pointing out.

“Okay, there are still some idiots. Every barrel has a few bad apples, but no one attacked Rosa or her family. With the population dropping the way it is, I think most folks know we need to have new blood or the town will die out.”

“So do you support the development?”

J.T. poured the soup into a mug and got a spoon out of a drawer. “I wouldn’t mind seeing some of the privately owned land being used for something, but I don’t think building a bunch of overpriced houses is the answer to Dale’s problems.”

“What do you think of Nokas?”

“I met the man when he petitioned the town council. I think he’s the Antichrist in an expensive suit. He’s not just a business man who’s looking to the bottom line. He really doesn’t give a shit about anything but profit. He’s hell-bent on suing the town and the state until they get so sick of him they’ll give in. It doesn’t matter that he’ll bankrupt the town he’s so determined to build in.”

“But if I don’t sell him the land, it renders the point moot.”

“Have I ever mentioned how hot it is when you talk all lawyery?”

“Dork.”

“I’m just a guy, sorry. Anyway, yes, if you don’t sell him the land, he can still sue the state for access rights, but he won’t win. The state forest is protected under more laws than he can throw lawyers at.”

“After I hung up with Sandra, I stayed outside and listened to the creek in the distance. I hate the thought of never hearing that again. But I also don’t want to see Dale turn into a ghost town because there aren’t any jobs.”

“Don’t take on all the worries of the town. Do what’s right for you. Not for Mary Ellen and Bill, not for the town, for you. If you need that money to pay off your bills, sell the land. Dale will survive or it won’t. You can’t put all of that on your shoulders.”

“I don’t need the money. It would be a really nice cushion, but I make a good living even when you consider the cost of living in New York City.”

“What do you need?”

You
. Her heart answered immediately. “Answers,” she said aloud. “I want to know who is behind the attacks on me. Is it one person or more than one? I want to know who told the protestors the deal was as good as done. And I want to know what my half brothers think of me.”

That last part popped right from her subconscious to her mouth without going through the filter of her brain.

“The last part is easy enough. They come back from Ireland on Tuesday. You could call their secretary and make an appointment.”

“I kind of wanted to know what sort of reception I’d get before I met them in person.”

“That can be arranged.” He collected their empty dishes and put them in the sink. “I won’t let anyone hurt you again. It kills me that I didn’t protect you today.” He wouldn’t look at her, just stared out the window over the sink.

She stood and crossed over to him. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she pressed her face into his back and inhaled his masculine scent. “It’s not your fault. How could you know some lunatic would attack me in broad daylight? I have no idea how he even knew I’d be at the store.”

“Unless he was following you,” J.T. said, turning around so he faced her.

“That’s kind of creepy.”

“But a possibility. I want you to stay at Mary Ellen’s tomorrow. Bill said the Farleys are coming over, and they don’t have any other plans. No matter what, stay in the house.”

Yesterday, she would have bristled at his directions. Now she was scared enough to follow them happily. “I’m sure Mary Ellen and Mrs. Farley will stuff me so full I won’t be able to move off the couch anyway.”

“Oh man, save me a plate.”

“I will. As long as you don’t wait too long to come pick me up.”

“I’ll always rush home to you.” He kissed her nose. “Come on, let’s sit on the porch a little bit and neck like we used to.”

“We never necked on my front porch. My mama would have chased you off with a stick.”

“Fine, let’s sit on the front porch and neck like I always wanted to.”

Her heart did the melty-flippy thing again as she followed him outside. “I don’t know that my face is up for a serious make-out session, but we can hold hands and watch the stars come out.”

“That’s fine too.”

They sat on the wicker loveseat and Nadya curled into his solid torso. The shower, massage and medicine had done wonders for her pain level, and the soup had eased her hunger. None of her problems had gone away, but she felt like she had a better handle on them.

For right now, she just wanted to relax with J.T. and enjoy the quiet.

“I used to sit out here all the time and watch the stars come out. Mama would tell me folk tales she’d heard as a little girl or make up stories. We didn’t have a TV, so she would add to the story every night like a soap opera.”

“My mama used to read from this huge book of nursery tales before bed. I always liked the ones with ogres and trolls and giants.”

“How old were you when she died?”

“Fourteen. She had a massive heart attack and died instantly. The doctors said she had a weak valve and there was no way of predicting what happened. She was only thirty-nine.”

“That’s awful. I’m so sorry.” Her heart ached for the fourteen-year-old boy who lost his mother so suddenly. “My mama died young too, but at least she made it to forty-six.”

“Did you know my dad asked your mama to marry him?”

“What? No! I never knew. When did that happen?”

“When we still lived here. I think she went to talk to him after she found me beating up trees. I know it was shortly afterwards that he started coming out here on his weekly visits.”

“Wow, she never told me. And we talked about everything.”

“I guess she turned him down flat, saying she wasn’t cut out to be a preacher’s wife. He kept asking her though.”

“Good. I’m glad my mama had the love of a good man in her life. After I got a job, the first thing I did was co-sign a loan so she could have an RV. She’d spent her life traveling from place to place, then had to settle down when she had me. The least I could do was give her the freedom of the road again.”

“Yeah, my dad told me she came to visit him in Texas. She turned him down there too.”

“It must have been hard on him.”

“Maybe, but it also got him living again. He hadn’t dated anyone since my mama died.”

“Then it must have been doubly hard when she died too.”

“I know he’d like to see you the next time he comes for a visit. He always felt like it was his fault you and your mama ran away.”

“It wasn’t his fault. He was just the catalyst, I think. Ever since I turned sixteen things had gotten more and more tense. We were just biding our time, trying to save as much money as we could before we left for New York.”

“I knew you were leaving around the same time I was, or at least that was the plan. What did you end up doing?”

“Mama had a sixth sense about things, and I think she knew Orleane was going to cause problems, so she had us pack up everything into that station wagon I bought from Al and we headed north that night.”

“I can’t believe that thing got you out of Dale, forget all the way to New York.”

“It didn’t. It died in Virginia. We got a ride from a truck driver into Pennsylvania and then took a bus to Queens. We had to stay in a shelter for a few weeks until we could find a place to live. Mama was able to get us jobs through the Rom community and we got a flea-bag apartment, but I was able to go to school.”

“It sounds like a nightmare. All because Orleane Campbell wanted to sleep with my dad.”

“It was rough, I won’t lie. The shelter was scary, and I missed Mary Ellen and you something fierce. I begged Mama to let us go back until Mary Ellen told me what happened to the cabin. Then I got pissed.”

“You weren’t the only one. Did Mary Ellen tell you her mama coordinated the clean-up effort?”

“What? No. I pretty much lost contact with her after that. There just wasn’t any money, and then too much time had gone by.”

“Yeah, I’d say half the town came out to scrub paint and board up windows. My dad and I couldn’t go—he was under review—but Bill and I snuck through the woods and saw who was there and who wasn’t.”

“Whatever for?”

“I think I had some half-assed idea about finding who did it and making them pay. I was angry and an idiot.”

“If you keep telling me all these mushy things you’re going to lose your guy badge.” Her heart was the consistency of butter in the July sun.

“I was looking for revenge. That isn’t mushy.”

“You were avenging my honor, or your dad’s. Either way, it’s mushy.”

“I never did find out who did it. But money is on Pansy. She has a mean streak in her.”

“And a jealous one. She had money, a nice home, was part of the popular crowd, but she always targeted me. And when you and I started dating, she would purposely do things like spill juice on me at school or knock over the displays at the store when I was working.”

“Do you think she’s the one behind trashing your car?”

Nadya thought about it for a minute. “No. She may hate my guts, but she wouldn’t risk something like that in broad daylight. And honestly, I don’t think she’s the type to coldly calculate a crime. She’d throw a brick through my window in the heat of anger, sure, but she wouldn’t use an emergency window-breaker thing and park down the street.”