Moonlight, Motorcycles, and Bad Boys

by Lynnette Austin

  She blew out a breath. “Back then, his football was so important to him. Big-time college coaches had started showing up, offering scholarships. He had a future. How could I take all that away to saddle him with a wife and baby at the age of eighteen? He’d have hated me and hated our baby.”

  “Katie Sara, you probably made the right choice. Woody married me on our mistake and look how that turned out. Though it’s awfully darn hard to call that sweet thing asleep upstairs a mistake. Nicole is such a miracle.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “Understood.” Rhonda reached out for her hand. “The circumstances were different. But you should have told him. You owed him that. You owed him the choice.”

  Katie Sara nodded. “My mother insisted it was better that he didn’t know, but deep-down I know—knew—differently.”

  “You have to tell him, although God help me, I don’t think I could even if my grandmama had the most tender peach switch in the state of Georgia after me.”

  “I’ve tried.”

  “Not good enough. You need to do it.”

  She met Rhonda’s intense gaze. “How do you tell a man you were pregnant with his baby and kept it a secret?” She bowed her head. “I started to tell him this evening, but the timing turned stinky. I’d just gotten up my nerve when Felicity came home. You are so much stronger...”

  “No, I’m not. I have support now, and that makes all the difference.” She rubbed Katie Sara’s shoulder.

  “Oh, Rhonda. You must hate me!”

  “No, I don’t, though I wish you would have let me help you through it.” She took both of Katie Sara’s hands in her own now. “How far along where you when you lost the baby?”

  Katie Sara paled. “I didn’t.” She fought for air. “I had a beautiful, healthy baby boy and gave him up for adoption.”

  “Didn’t Reiner have to agree, to sign, too?”

  Her hair fell over her face as she dropped her head into her hands. “I lied,” she whispered. “I insisted I didn’t know who the father was. We went through a private lawyer...”

  She didn’t even try to stop the tears she saw mirrored on her friend’s face. “I made so many mistakes, Rhonda. My son’s eleven years old now, and I think about him every day of my life.”

  She couldn’t have said who moved first, but they held each other tightly and cried a long time.

  Finally, Katie Sara wiped her nose. “I’m so sorry to add all this to your plate. I came over to make sure you were all right and instead dump this on you. Are you okay?”

  “Yes. In fact, I have a date this weekend.” A grin lit up her pixie face, her blue eyes shining despite the tears they’d shed, despite the fading bruises.

  Katie Sara gaped. “No way!”

  “Yep.”

  She fought her way out of her melancholy and pushed it aside to share Rhonda’s long-overdue happiness. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

  “Tim.”

  “Tim Reed? My cousin Tim?”

  “Yes! I’ve had this secret crush on him for such a long time, and when he sat beside me at the barbecue... Well, he asked me out.”

  Laughing, Katie Sara hugged her friend. “He’s a great guy! So gentle. So patient.”

  “I know.”

  “But I hope you like dogs because Hamlet and Macbeth go everywhere with him.”

  “My girls go everywhere with me, and they love those dogs. We see them at McDonald’s every Fridays.”

  “Perfect!”

  “Katie Sara? It’ll work out. He loves you.”

  “Yes. Everything will be fine,” she lied.

  As she turned onto Wedgwood Way, top down, radio turned low so as not to raise Marge and Philomena’s ire, Katie Sara considered the day. It hadn’t been what she’d expected when she woke this morning, but then, not many days seemed to be.

  Somehow, in her memory, small-town life bordered on ho-hum, one day rolling unvaryingly into the next. How wrong could she have been?

  A huge weight had been lifted, though. Sharing her secret with Rhonda, finally saying it out loud, had somehow helped. Tomorrow she’d tell Reiner he had a son. One he’d never know.

  And if he never spoke to her again, she wouldn’t blame him.

  As she neared the house, her headlights caught on something hanging from her porch roof. Squinting, she couldn’t quite make out what it was.

  Then her heart slammed into her throat.

  “Chia! Oh, my God! Chia!” She veered into the drive and threw the car in park. Racing to the porch, her heart pounded frantically.

  By the time her foot hit the top step, dread filled her mouth with an acid taste. Chia, hanging from her porch by a noose. Bile rose in her throat, but she moved closer, legs shaking, lips trembling, tears blurring her vision.

  What should she do? She couldn’t let him hang there. Sobbing now, she reached out—and nearly collapsed.

  A wet stuffed animal!

  Rage ripped through her. With one quick yank, she tore the noose from the nail, saw the note pinned to the cat’s collar.

  One single word.

  Bitch.

  They’d gone too far.

  Quivering with anger, she tossed the noose and cat onto the porch. Fumbling with her keys, she tried several times before the right one slid into the slot. Fighting for air, anger and trepidation duked it out inside her for top ranking as she turned the knob. Once inside, she flipped on the light switch beside the door and prayed.

  Quietly, fearfully, she called, “Chia?”

  Instantly, she heard an answering meow. White, fluffy tail held high, her Persian bounded around the corner. Katie Sara knelt, scooped up her pet, and buried her face in his fur.

  “I have never, ever been so glad to see you.”

  Chia’s motor roared to life, vibrating against her fingers. She held him like that until he reached the end of his endurance.

  Releasing him, she stroked his long white coat. “What would you like for dinner tonight? Tucked in the pantry, waiting for a special occasion, is a can of fancy white tuna. What do you think?”

  The affectionate cat ducked his head and rubbed it against Katie Sara’s leg.

  Turning on both her porch light and her side floodlights and carrying a flashlight, Katie Sara ran to her car and pulled it into the garage in case the boys decided to return.

  When she stepped back onto the porch, the beam of her flashlight illuminated the cat and noose. As much as she hated to even touch the thing again, she realized she should probably keep it for evidence. Picking it up gingerly, she carried it with her.

  Once back in the house, she locked the front door behind her, then checked the rear door and every single window. Adrenalin pumping, she searched every room, every closet, and beneath every bed, sofa, and chair.

  “What can I say, Chia? Those nasty boys have me spooked.”

  She wrapped the soggy stuffed animal and rope in a plastic bag and stashed it one of the bottom cupboards of her mudroom. “Just in case.”

  Curled up on the sofa, she and Chia settled down to watch Sleepless in Seattle. It seemed fitting since she was paranoid in Paradox.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Katie Sara didn’t sleep well. Every night sound, every shifting of the house brought her to full wakefulness. By the time the sun’s golden crown peeked over the horizon, she stood in her kitchen, first cup of coffee already in hand, debating what to have for breakfast. Nothing appealed to her.

  “Why don’t we sit on the porch swing for a bit, Chia? Maybe catch a catnap.” She glanced at the wall clock. Three hours before school started. “Criminy! There’s certainly plenty of time.”

  Across the street, Philomena waved Marge to the window. “She’s certainly up with the roosters this mornin’, isn’t she? Looks tired, too. Had a tough week, that one.”

  “Sure has. Ralph’s daughter turned out real good, didn’t she?”

  “Yes, she did.” Without another word, she held out her cup. Marge topped it off, and the two took u
p their stations.

  “Think he’ll come this mornin’?”

  “Bet you a box of Poligrip he will. This’ll be his last drive down our street, though, by golly. There might not be anything legal we can do, but we’ll sure as heck let that no-good Mornin’ Malefactor know we’re fed up with him and his racket!”

  Philomena stared out at their handiwork. “Stringin’ those cowbells across the street like that’ll send the darned fool a clear enough message. Them bells’ll ring loud as the ones in London the day our sweet Prince Harry got married.”

  “And I, for one, can’t wait.” Marge rubbed her hands together like a little kid on Christmas morning.

  Reiner zipped his jeans, pulled a ratty, old T-shirt over his head, and padded barefoot across to Felicity’s room. She slept like the dead.

  That whole deal with those boys and Katie Sara didn’t sit well with him. He’d been uneasy all night. He should have gone to their houses and knocked their heads together or at least have followed her home and scoped out the house for her.

  He snorted. Yeah! As if she’d have allowed that! When snow fell in Miami, maybe. Still, he, for one, would have slept a heck of a lot better.

  Well, nothing to stop him now. He’d hop on his bike and take a quick ride past her place just to make sure everything was okay. She’d never know, and he’d be back in plenty of time to wake Felicity and get her off to school.

  Carefully locking up behind himself, he headed to the garage, backed his bike out, and wheeled it to the street before firing the ignition.

  The relatively cool morning air felt good. He’d forgotten how much he enjoyed this time of day. Maybe he’d do this more often. He laughed. Yeah, like that would happen. Tomorrow, he’d be right back under those covers when the sun came up—and loving every minute of it. He’d been born for the night. Morning didn’t cut it. Not on a regular basis.

  He idled past sleeping houses, aware babies slept, maybe along with tired mamas who’d been up with them all night. Until a couple of days ago, he might not have given that a thought, but now he found his mind veering onto strange paths.

  His life wasn’t anywhere close to what he’d thought it would be. A year ago, he’d been at the top of his game. The difference between who he was then and who he was now? There were no words. He’d been bitter when the injury had taken him down and out, but he’d come through it.

  Now, here he was. Jock turned Mr. Mom.

  The most amazing thing about it, though, was that it wasn’t all that bad. And that scared the heck out of him. Maybe Auntie Bel would babysit tonight and he could go grab a few beers, play some pool...

  Turning onto Wedgewood, he focused on Ace’s house. Was somebody on the porch?

  An explosion of loud metallic clanging, and his bike skidded out from under him. What the hell? Stunned, he found himself sprawled on the pavement, one leg pinned beneath his Harley.

  A second of shocked silence was followed by absolute pandemonium. A shrill scream to rival any steam whistle erupted from the house across from Katie Sara’s. The ensuing hullabaloo was like something out of an old Laurel and Hardy movie...and he, unfortunately, seemed to have been cast in the starring role.

  Two women dressed in brightly flowered housecoats flew toward him like whirling dervishes. He tugged at his leg, praying he could free himself before they reached him, unsure what they might have planned.

  Katie Sara jerked upright at the noise, dumping both Chia and the coffee. “Oh, jeez.” She held her damp robe away from herself, then looked toward the street. “Oh, no! Reiner!”

  She tore down the steps.

  “What have you done?” Katie Sara stared at her neighbors.

  By now, Philomena and Marge, both out of breath, stood beside Reiner and his bike, panting and wringing their hands. Marge started to cry.

  “Why are you cryin’? I’m the one bleedin’.” Reiner rested his head on the handlebars of his bike. “What in the hell is goin’ on?”

  “We...” Marge hiccupped. “We...were tryin’...to catch the Mornin’ Malefactor.”

  Philomena put her arm around the much shorter, much rounder Marge. “He’s got to be stopped, and we didn’t know what else to do.” She waved a hand at the snarl on the street. “It’s only some string and cowbells tied to a couple wooden stakes.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “We figured it’d catch on the car bumper and drag along behind him. Just so he’d know we’d had enough.”

  Marge’s lip trembled. “We never meant to hurt anybody.”

  “Katie Sara, if you’d help me up.” Reiner grunted, pushing at his bike. “I can’t get any leverage here.”

  She helped him free his leg, relieved when he stood. Nothing seemed broken. Together they righted his bike. As he looked it over, she was truly afraid he might break down and cry.

  Cursing, he wheeled it into her drive. “Can I use your phone? Mine’s gonna have to be replaced. I had it in my pocket when I went flying.”

  He looked back at his Harley. “Barnie’ll need to take this to his garage on the flatbed. Maybe you could drop me at my place, so I can get Felicity up for school.” A muscle worked in his jaw as he struggled with his temper.

  “We’ll pay, Mr. Broderick.” Philomena trailed behind them.

  “Yes.” Marge tagged along. “Whatever it costs to repair your, ah, motorcycle.”

  “That’s all right. My insurance will cover it. But take my advice and don’t pull this little stunt again. Somebody could get hurt.” He flicked a loose flap of denim on his torn jeans. “Seriously hurt.”

  “Speaking of,” Katie Sara said. “You’re bleeding. Why don’t you come inside and let me clean you up?”

  Marge sniffled again.

  About to say something, Reiner stopped as Eye of the Tiger rumbled down the street at window-rattling volume. Hands on his hips, he watched a car nose into view.

  “Ladies, if you’ll allow me, I’d like to take care of this.” He limped into the street.

  A shocked Judge William Cavanaugh III jammed on his brakes. “What in blue blazes do you think you’re doing, Broderick? You’ll get yourself run over standing in the middle of the road like that.”

  Reiner hobbled to the car to lean in the driver’s window. Without ceremony, he reached across the judge and hit the stereo’s off button. “You’re disturbin’ the peace.”

  Flustered, Cavanaugh said, “I most certainly am not.”

  “The ladies all say differently.” He waved his hand to take in Philomena, Marge, and Katie Sara.

  When the judge saw Katie Sara, he blanched.

  “Seems I wandered into a trap these two,” Reiner nodded toward Philomena and Marge, “set to catch the culprit. Now I’ve got a banged-up Harley, along with some cuts and bruises. My pride took a pretty big hit, too, while I was skiddin’ across the pavement. Hell of a way to start the day. All because you decided to break the law.”

  “I understand.” The judge’s mouth set in a tight line. “I’ll pay for whatever damages you’ve incurred.”

  Reiner turned to them. “Damn right he will, won’t he?”

  They nodded, eyes wide in mute, relieved assent.

  “Guess even the best of us have lapses when it comes to sagacity and good sense, don’t we, Judge?” Katie Sara wrapped her robe tightly around herself. “Some of us are fortunate and find more forgiveness than others.”

  Pain crossed her face. She glanced at Reiner and the sorrow deepened before she looked away.

  Not for the first time, he worried. Something was very wrong, but darned if he had a clue. Women sure were complicated.

  “You’re right, Katie Sara.” Reiner backed up as Judge Cavanaugh opened the door and got out of his car to face the three women. “I apologize to all of you. I’ve sat the bench a lot of years. Probably too many. Some days I find it difficult to face the courtroom with its weighty procedures and responsibilities. I’m afraid those are the mornings you’ve heard my, uh, war song, as it were. My way of pumping m
yself up, convincing myself I can still do the job.”

  He picked up one of the cowbells and rattled it. “Maybe I can’t. Maybe it’s past time I retire.” He handed Philomena her now-dented bell, then slowly folded himself back behind the wheel.

  “Send me the bill, Reiner, and believe me, I am sorry.” He met Katie Sara’s eyes. “For everything.”

  With that he drove away, leaving the four standing in the middle of the street.

  Reiner threw his arm around Katie Sara. “Let’s go inside. I’ll let you play nurse.”

  Word of the talent show traveled like a rock star on a road trip. Within two days they had more acts than they could use.

  “Don’t worry, Felicity. Sign them up,” Katie Sara said. “Believe me, some of the acts won’t get it together, and it’ll end up perfect. Otherwise, you’re liable to fall short.”

  “Okay.” Felicity sounded far from convinced but followed her advice.

  Since they only had a week from start to finish, they wasted no time. Rehearsals went on in the auditorium while others designed and constructed sets in the cafeteria. Felicity was bound and determined to make this a class act.

  Katie Sara wiped sweat from her brow. The corner where she worked had grown hotter as the afternoon went on. Painting six-foot-high plywood daisies turned out to be a heck of a lot harder than she’d imagined. When Dru came up to her, she instinctively tensed, her gaze darting across the room to where Tim and Reiner sawed and hammered away on some sort of miniature house.

  “Haven’t seen much of you lately,” he said.

  “I’ve been swamped.”

  He shook his head. “That’s not it. I wish it was, but you and I both know better, don’t we?”

  Sadly, she nodded.

  When he took her hand, she pulled it away quickly. “Dru, the kids—”

  “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry.” He sighed, picked up a paintbrush, and took a couple swipes across a daisy’s leaf. “Katie Sara, I need to say this, to get it off my chest.”

  Hands still, he kept his voice low, his eyes on her. “You’re like my every wish-upon-a-star come true. No matter how badly I want it, though, we’re not going to work, are we?”