Can't Stop Believing (HARMONY)

by Jodi Thomas

  All afternoon they touched, unable to get enough of each other. Maybe it was the fact that they’d been to the funeral, or maybe he was growing on her the way she was on him. Neither talked of love or forever. They wanted the now to stretch as long as it could.

  Like a windup toy, she fell asleep in midsentence, not even noticing that he was still touching her, moving his hand beneath the covers and over her body.

  “I can’t give you up,” he whispered as he kissed her hair.

  He saw right through her tough-girl attitude and her temper tantrums. He saw the beauty of her, inside and out. The only problem was he couldn’t seem to figure out why she’d picked him. Right now he was the one thing in her world that didn’t make sense. She could have hired a foreman and bodyguards if she thought she needed them. Hell, she probably could have found a better lover than him.

  He grinned suddenly, remembering how she couldn’t have had any complaints today. She’d dropped back on her pillows after they’d made love and demanded, “Just kill me now because it’ll never be any better than that.”

  He’d laughed and promised to work on making her statement a lie.

  Once she’d asked him if he’d forgive her anything, and he hadn’t known what to say. Now he knew he would. No matter how wild she’d been. No matter what she’d said or done. He’d forgive her. She didn’t even need to bother to ask. The lives they’d lived before didn’t matter, not when they were together like this.

  Cord watched her sleep, wishing he could wake her and relive the afternoon. But the cell phone in his pocket buzzed before he could carry out his plan.

  Rolling from the bed as carefully as he could, he pulled on his jeans and moved to the hallway.

  “Hello,” he whispered.

  “Cord,” a gravelly voice said. “I got some information.”

  “What is it?” Cord moved down the stairs, wondering what Cameron had managed to find as he followed Bryce Galloway. Whatever the news, Cord knew it wouldn’t be good. Nothing about the guy was.

  “I’ll show you if you can meet me at the theater after midnight. Come alone to the back door. I don’t want anyone to even know I know you.”

  “I’ll be there,” Cord answered, and hung up knowing that his time in paradise was over.

  He carried his sleeping wife home. He stayed in bed with her for more than an hour to make sure she was sound asleep, then finished dressing in the bathroom off the kitchen without waking Nevada. He had to handle this alone, and he knew he’d touch her if he went back in the bedroom they shared.

  Cameron’s information might change everything. If Bryce Galloway was hurting Nevada, Cord wasn’t sure he could hold his rage.

  Chapter 33

  APRIL 13

  BEAU WOKE FRIDAY MORNING TO THE SMELL OF RAIN AND the constant beat of thunder rumbling in the background like a low drumroll.

  “Beau?” Border yelled from the other bedroom. “Is it raining in your room?”

  Beau sat up in bed and felt drops drip on his head and shoulders. “Yeah,” he said, knowing that Border could hear him through the thin walls. Indoor rain was one of the thousand complaints he had about this place.

  Border showed up with their only two good pots. “I already used all the bowls for my room.”

  They moved the bed and began to catch water in every container they could find. By eight the place had a tinkling sound like the opening to a children’s ballet. Beau covered the equipment with tarps, dressed in sweats, and talked Border into running across the creek to Martha Q’s place. It might be muddy, but Beau reasoned that it was half as far as using the road, so they’d only get half as wet.

  Martha Q looked at them like they were two homeless wet dogs at her back door, but she let them in. “Take off your shoes and just drip there till I get some towels.”

  “Thanks,” Border said, then took a deep breath as if he could smell a few hundred calories of breakfast cooking.

  “I’ve been meaning to get that roof fixed, but I don’t think of it till it rains.” Martha Q looked like she’d been out partying all night. Her lipstick had slid off one side of her mouth, and one fake eyelash was missing. Surprisingly, she had the nerve to look at them as if they were the ones who looked strange.

  “If you boys will clean up and dry off I’ll let you eat with my guest. Mrs. Biggs can add a little water to the gravy and we’ll have plenty. We always have hot biscuits on Friday.”

  After she left to go put her face on, Border whispered, “She’s just feeling guilty because she doesn’t fix our roof. If we never, ever mention it, maybe she’ll forget again and we can guilt her out of a few more breakfasts.”

  Beau accepted a towel from Border’s grandmother and tried to dry off without taking his clothes off. “I hope she never marries again. If she does, and forgets to take her makeup off again, her husband will wake up and think he’s on a Night of the Zombies rerun.”

  Mrs. Biggs tried not to smile at the comment. “I’ve got a couple of old raincoats that workmen left here a year ago when crews came in to build a fast-food place over by the mall. You boys can wear them home. They’ll cover you from head to toe.”

  “Thanks, Granny.” Border kissed her cheek.

  Beau did the same even though he found it hard to believe that such a sweet lady could be related to the Biggs boys. Must have been grandbabies switched at birth.

  She waved them both away. “Go sit down in the dining room, but no eating until all the guests have filled their plates. If we run out, it should be you two who have to wait until I can scramble more.”

  Beau moved into the formal little dining room with one wall of windows facing east. Normally the place was sunny this time of day, but this morning it was gray with water tapping against the glass.

  One man sat drinking coffee at the end of the table. Dressed in a white shirt and plum-colored sweater, he looked out of place among the mismatched table and chairs Martha Q must have found at a secondhand store.

  “Morning,” Beau offered. “Nice day.” The guy was in his thirties. He stared at Beau with a bored expression that must have taken years to practice.

  “Morning,” he finally said. “Don’t tell me you’re other guests. I thought the place was packed.”

  Beau poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down as far from the man as possible. “No. I was just invited to breakfast. Heard it’s biscuits and gravy. I love the way Mrs. Biggs puts those big hunks of sausage in her gravy.”

  The man sighed as if talking to call waiting. “I don’t eat flour, or milk products, or pig.”

  “I’m sure the chickens are sorry to hear that.”

  The stranger just stared at him. “I don’t eat any meat products.” He had that why-am-I-telling-this-idiot-anything look about him.

  Border backed his way into the room with cookies in both hands.

  While he set his appetizer on the tablecloth, Beau thought he’d try the introductions. “Border, this is one of the guests. He’s a vegetarian.”

  Border smiled. “That’s great. My grandmother is a Presbyterian.”

  Beau grinned. Border had figured out people often took one look at his tattoos and assumed he was dumb. He played it up to the hilt.

  Border smiled at the guy. “I’m Border Biggs, mister. I was just pulling your leg.”

  “Bryce Galloway,” the man said, without offering a hand. “I’ve heard about you two. You play in a band over at Buffalo’s Bar.”

  “That’s right,” Beau said. “You should come hear us some night.”

  Bryce lifted his cup. “I might drop by tonight. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard that country twang.”

  There was no more time to talk. The three widows, staying at the place, hurried in. They’d all met Beau and Border, so they made a fuss over them like they were company and ignored the strange man at the end of the table. When all were seated, Beau didn’t miss the fact that the seats on either side of Bryce Galloway remained empty.

  Joni, the chat
ty one of the three, chimed in as if she’d raised her hand and it was her time to talk. “Are you gentlemen aware you all have names starting with B? Border even has two. Would one of you consider changing?”

  All three men said no at the same time, and the room went back into silence as if a sign had dropped down demanding it.

  Martha Q came in as they were finishing up and said she’d drive the boys back to their place because she planned to take breakfast to Mr. Carleon and Ronny. He’d gone over early to help with the moving of all the medical machines remaining in the duplex.

  Beau was glad for the ride and happy to be out of the same room with Galloway. Something about the man bothered him. All his appearance was polished, but Beau had to fight the urge to check and make sure his wallet was still in his pocket when he walked away from the man.

  As the day aged, he couldn’t get Bryce Galloway out of his mind. He didn’t feel like practicing, so he slept and read one of the books Marty had lent him.

  Ronny invited them over to eat some of the food that folks had dropped off. She looked heartbroken, but at least she’d stopped crying. Beau had heard her most of the night and wished the walls were thicker. It seemed to him that sorrow always passed through thin walls, but joy never did.

  When they left for the bar just after dark, it was raining so hard they wrapped the guitars beneath their thick raincoats and ran for Beau’s car.

  The mood of the day filtered over into the night. Few came in for drinks or food, and those who did seemed more in the mood to talk than dance. Beau missed watching the people who usually tried to dance.

  About eleven a girl with a blond ponytail walked in and sat at the last booth closest to the band cage.

  “There’s your girl,” Border whispered.

  Beau lifted his head and winked at her, then continued to play.

  She watched them for a while. When Beau took a break and walked by her, he whispered, “Hello, Trouble.” He had no idea what her real name was, but she’d been driving over and picking him up now and then for months. They never talked, they just drove through the night.

  “My top’s up on the convertible,” she said with a smile, “but you still think you’d want to go for a drive?”

  “Sure.” Within ten minutes he’d talked Border into taking his car home and convinced Harley that the band should quit early.

  When she left, she pointed to the front door, telling him where she’d be waiting.

  Border pulled on the oversized slicker his grandmother had given him that morning. “Go ahead. I’ll load up. You parked so close out back I won’t get anything wet. I can load everything, drive home, and have most of the food Ronny left us eaten before you can say good-bye to the little lady.”

  “Save me one slice of the chocolate pie.” Beau knew if he didn’t pick something, Border would finish off everything. They had no use for a garbage disposal at the apartment.

  Border was tangled in the cords when he looked back. Beau ran to the front. He couldn’t remember when he’d needed a ride with Trouble more than tonight. Between the funeral and the rain, sunshine seemed a long way away.

  Chapter 34

  CAMERON WAITED FOR CORD AT THE BACK DOOR OF THE old theater like a leftover ghost of movies past. Cord didn’t even see the man until his headlights flashed across him. Without bothering with a greeting, they walked through the narrow theater aisles that smelled of stale popcorn and dust. The seats were in poor shape and the floor sticky, just as Cord remembered it from when he was a kid.

  The little guy had made living quarters out of three dressing rooms off the stage. Cord saw into one that looked like a small apartment kitchen with a table and a single chair. He walked into another that must serve as the office for the theater. It had a huge old scarred desk that took up half the space and a file cabinet so full the drawers wouldn’t close.

  “I thought I’d better tell you what I found. You need to see the whole picture here.” Cameron jumped up on the desk and smiled, as if delighted to have a guest in his place.

  Cord remained standing. He wasn’t afraid, but he felt his whole body go on guard as if from some primal instinct. “Go on,” Cord said, wanting to get the meeting over with.

  “I followed Bryce for two days, learning only that he was scum. Both days he left the B&B after breakfast and wandered around like he had no purpose. Coffee shops, bakeries, bookstores, diners. All he bought in each was coffee, and he didn’t even buy that in the used bookstore. The owner of the store talked to him, asking questions. Galloway never gave him a straight answer.”

  Cameron rubbed the bridge of his nose with his index finger. “That rented Rover wasn’t too hard to follow. He’d stop at each place and usually strike up a conversation with whoever was around, like he was building an alibi. Then he’d sit somewhere, the park mostly, and make calls. I couldn’t get close enough to hear, but I could tell he was frustrated, and even angry, at whoever was on the other end.”

  “Have any idea who he was talking to?” Cord asked.

  “Nope.” Cameron lit a cigarette with nervous hands. “The first day he had these three ladies following him. I was so busy watching them tail him, I lost him for a few hours. Picked him up at the bar out by the truck stop. You know, the one with three Xs on the roof. He parked in the back, but so does everyone who hangs out in that dump. Of course I followed him in, but I didn’t have to worry about him spotting me. It was so dark I could have picked his pocket and he wouldn’t have seen me.

  “He mostly just drank and flirted with the ugly girls who were over-made-up and underdressed. I saw him go back behind the curtain with a few of them for a private dance. He always came back smiling like a goon, and they came back looking disgusted. I heard one girl say she wouldn’t give him anything extra no matter how much he paid.”

  Cord thought he could guess what was happening. Nevada had mentioned once that her ex liked to hurt her where the bruises wouldn’t show.

  Cameron continued, enjoying himself. “When he left there, he drove back to town by way of the road running next to your ranch.”

  “My ranch isn’t on the way back from the truck stop.”

  “I know. I thought that was strange, but it got stranger. He ate at the diner, making a point to talk loud enough for everyone in the place to notice him. Then he headed over to the show at the mall. After that, he returned to the bed-and-breakfast. The guy seemed to have no purpose, no friends, no life. He’s drifting.”

  “Did he go out later?”

  “Nope. I slept so close to his car, he couldn’t have started it without waking me up.”

  “He could have walked,” Cord snapped, tired of the rambling.

  “He could have, but he didn’t seem the type. I thought he was the most boring guy I’d ever followed until this afternoon, when he bought a ticket to the same movie for the third time. I followed him in instead of waiting outside.”

  Cameron smiled. “I know my way around dark theaters. He never saw me even when I sat three rows behind him. About halfway through the movie, some guy came in the rear door and sat down beside him. For a second I thought it might be you: same tall build, comfortable in his western clothes. They whispered for a few minutes and then left out the back. I followed them across the alley to a little dump of a house behind the mall. I could see them through the dirty window and took a chance moving closer to hear what they said, but it was muffled.”

  Cord fought not to shake the man to get facts. “What happened next?”

  “When the stranger opened the front door, I was so close to them the door almost hit me in the nose. I heard Bryce say something about how the guy’s paycheck would never happen because Bryce said he had to do the dirty work himself.”

  “Did the man answer? Any clue what it was he didn’t do?”

  Cameron shook his head. “The stranger just swore and walked off cussing.”

  Cord couldn’t help but wonder, since the man was dressed western, if killing a horse was the one thing he
wouldn’t do. “What happened next?”

  “Galloway picked up a book, big like a photo album, and walked out the back door. He went straight across the alley and back into the theater. When I followed five minutes later, I took the time to take the tape off the lock. Nothing bothers me more than people sneaking in without paying.”

  “What next?”

  “Oh, Galloway watched the movie, drove by a takeout place, and went back to the B&B. I hung around until ten, but he never left the place. I thought of driving back to the dump of a house, but I figure it was just where they met to talk. Then I remembered Bryce hadn’t taken the album in. It took me a while, but I unlocked the rental car door and found it under the front seat.”

  Cameron pulled an old photo album out from under papers on his desk. “I thought you should see this. I’ll get it back before dawn so Bryce will never know.”

  Cord slowly opened the book and began to turn the pages. Photo after photo. All of them were grainy, but he had no problem seeing that they were of Nevada. Riding. Swimming. Walking. Smiling on the steps of her home. He couldn’t see much detail. They were probably taken with a cell phone and blown up on a computer before being run off on plain paper. In a few she looked younger by a few years and her hair was shorter than it was now.

  “Bryce is collecting pictures of my wife?” Cord whispered after a few minutes. The last one in the book was of her standing next to him at Marty’s funeral. In the center of the picture, where her arm linked his, someone had cut a hole in the picture.

  Cameron frowned. “Someone is obsessed with her. I heard that her ex-husband was in town to try and buy her ranch, but he doesn’t want the ranch back, he wants her.”

  “But why would he be causing trouble around the ranch?”

  “Maybe he thinks she’ll turn to him?” Cameron shrugged. “If the ranch fails, are your pockets deep enough to bail her out?”

  “I don’t even have pockets.” Again the reason she’d married him drifted across his thoughts. She’d said she was low on money and needed a good season or she might lose the ranch. Cord had a feeling that if she’d gone to Bryce, she would have given up far more than the land.