Oh, Lord, the truth was, any of those people might have done it—or hired someone else to do it.
Claire fisted her hands in her lap. She clenched them so tightly that her nails bit into her palms. She hated—hated— that they had learned nothing, that Joe had been right.
They hadn’t the resources or the clout of the police. Only blind luck might have given them something to go on from one of the people on the list. And luck had not been with
them.
She had wasted four days of her life and learned nothing. And they were days she could never get back, precious days, once-in-a-lifetime days that she could have spent at the ranch with Joe, forgetting her troubles instead of pursuing them.
And now the time had come to tell Joe about the baby. She was fresh out of excuses for keeping the truth from him. At first, she’d felt justified in not telling him because she herself hadn’t decided what she wanted to do. Then she’d held off because she didn’t want him to know until they’d finished their business in San Francisco.
Now the only reason she had for holding back was the selfish one: as soon as she told him, she would lose him. This new intimacy they shared would evaporate like a morning fog over San Francisco Bay.
Oh, he wouldn’t desert her, she knew that. Joe was a real man—even more of a man than he gave himself credit for being. He would stick by her. He would probably even insist that she marry him. Even though he’d told her both times she’d begged him to love her that he was never going to marry—that he didn’t believe in marriage, or in bringing children into a world like this one.
In this, her darkest time, he’d shown himself to be the best friend she’d ever known. And for that, he’d get a wife he didn’t want and a baby he hadn’t asked for. And if she went to prison, he’d have to make some hard choices about how to take care of that baby until her release....
“Claire?”
She felt his quick glance. But when she looked, his eyes were focused on the road. “Umm?” She made herself face him, until he glanced her way again, and their eyes could meet.
Sweet heaven, had there ever been eyes like his? Or goodness, or strength like his?
Her love was a knife, turning in the deepest part of her. To love as she had always loved him, would always love him. And to know that as soon as she told him she was pregnant, he would ask her to be his wife—he would offer her the one, impossible, shining dream of her life. But not because he wanted to—because it would be his duty to.
He looked at the road again. “What’s the matter?”
Tell him, her conscience instructed. Tell him right now.
“Claire?”
“I...”
“Yeah?”
“I just...”
“What?”
“I...really don’t want to talk about it now.” Coward, her conscience coldly accused.
His eyes found her, then shifted back to the highway again, but he didn’t push her further. Instead he suggested, “Get the pillow from the back seat, why don’t you? Rest a little. We’ve got a good three hours until we reach home.”
Home, she thought grimly. Where we get to report to Sheriff Dan that we’ll be good from now on.
She said, “Yes, I think I will close my eyes for a while.” The better to block out reality, my dear. “I didn’t get that much sleep last night.”
“I noticed.”
Claire got the pillow and put the seat all the way back. Soon enough, the whisper of the spinning tires lulled her into a fitful sleep.
* * *
When they pulled up behind the courthouse, Sheriff Dan was waiting right there in the parking lot, sitting behind the wheel of his big white 4X4.
Claire knew he was waiting for her, that he’d hung around the parking lot in an attempt to catch her before she went inside and gave Wayne Leven the opportunity to ask what was going on. Right then, she understood that what Joe had said about Dan must have been true. The sheriff had stuck his neck out for her.
Dan Brawley made a big show of casually getting out of his truck. He hitched up his belt and strolled over to the car. He leaned in Claire’s open window.
“How’re you doing, Short Stuff?”
“Okay, Sheriff Dan.”
Dan tipped his Stetson at Joe. “Right on time, Joe.”
“Just like I promised, Sheriff.”
Dan looked at Claire again. “Well, it’s good to see you back safe and sound.” He coughed then, as if trying to find the right way to say what was coming next. Then he plunged in. “Now, Claire. You know I hate to see you in this trouble...”
He looked so uncomfortable that she helped him. “Go ahead, Sheriff Dan. What is it?”
“Well, it’s just that running off like that was not wise. And from now on, as long as you’re out of jail on bail, I want to be able to count on you to stay in the county, fair enough?” Claire nodded. Dan wanted a little more than a nod. “Can I have your word on that, Claire?”
Claire bit her lip, and then forced herself to promise. “Yes, Sheriff Dan. You have my word. I won’t leave the county again as long as I’m out of jail on bail.”
“And you’ll stop trying to do my job for me.” His smile urged her to give up playing amateur sleuth—and to admit the futility of such foolishness. Claire thought it a patronizing smile. She wanted to get angry, to shout at him that as long as she still had breath in her body, she wouldn’t stop trying to find out what really happened to Alan Henson— especially since the sheriff’s office of Excelsior County wasn’t trying at all anymore.
But instead, she forced herself to remember that he had put himself on the line for her in not revoking her bail immediately as soon as he learned she’d gone outside the county limits. Sheriff Dan was a good man with a job to do. Shouting at him wouldn’t accomplish any more than throwing herself against Beth Hyland’s locked door had done.
“Well, Claire?” the sheriff prompted.
She nodded again. “Yes. All right. Next time I want to do police work, I’ll apply at the sheriff’s office for a job.”
Sheriff Dan seemed relieved. “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.” He looked across the seat at Joe. “And as for you, Joe—”
Joe cut him off with a shrug. “Hey, Sheriff. Last I heard, it’s a free country. Claire’s got some problems right now, so maybe you have a right to rein her in. But me, I’m just a guy with a curious mind. Is there a law against me asking people questions?”
The sheriff snorted. “Hell. I suppose not.”
“Good,” Joe said.
“Just...be careful.”
“I will. And thanks. For...everything.”
“It’s all right. Did you learn anything?”
“Not a thing you don’t already know.”
‘ ‘Would you tell me if you had?”
“You bet.” Joe shifted Claire’s car into drive. “See you later, Sheriff.”
“Good enough.” Dan Brawley stepped back from the car. “Stay out of trouble.”
“We will.” Joe waved as they backed out of the parking space and slowly drove away.
Once they’d turned the corner of the courthouse, and the sheriff’s imposing form had disappeared from view, Claire slumped back into her seat and closed her eyes. “There,” she sighed. “That’s over with.” Then she thought of her mother and made herself sit up. “You’d better stop at the motel.”
But Joe drove past the turn to her street. “You can call from the ranch.”
“But, Joe—”
“Your mother said she could handle things for you. Let her do it.”
“Joe,” Claire argued as the car trundled over the bridge, “I told her I’d stop in as soon as we met with the sheriff.”
“You can talk to her in twenty minutes. From the ranch.”
“Why call when we can stop in person just as easily?” They were across the bridge. “Because if you stop now, you’ll just find some big problem that you’ll decide you have to solve. You don’t need any more problems
right now.” Joe pulled up at the stop sign on the way out of town.
“Don’t tell me what I need, please.” Claire tried to stay reasonable—she knew Joe was only thinking of her. But she felt as if the world was closing in on her. Now, even Joe seemed to think he had a right to tell her what to do. “Turn this car around, Joe.”
He said nothing, only turned left and drove up the hill that led out of town. Indignation knotted Claire’s stomach, but she saw the futility of arguing further right then. She sat back in her seat and kept her lips pressed tightly together as they drove the twisting dirt roads to the ranch.
When they arrived, she leapt out of the car and slammed the door behind her. Gonzo and Relay bounded up, and she was forced to settle them down and greet them before she was allowed to flounce into the house—an exercise in high drama that was somewhat spoiled because she had to wait at the door for Joe to unlock it.
Once inside, she went straight to the phone in the kitchen and dialed the motel. Her mother answered on the second
ring.
“Snow’s Inn. How may I help you?”
“Hello, Mother. It’s me.”
“Claire! How are you?”
“Fine. Just fine.” She studiously refused to look at Joe, who had followed her to the kitchen and was standing, watching her, in the doorway to the hall.
“Are you at the ranch now?” her mother wanted to know.
“Yes, we just got in.”
“Are you all right, Claire? You sound a little strained. Did you see Dan?”
“I’m okay, Mother. Really I am. And I spoke with the sheriff just a little while ago. The problem is... all worked out.”
“I’m glad to hear that. But I thought you’d be stopping in here.”
“I meant to, but Joe wanted to come right back here.”
“Well, that’s no problem. Everything is fine here, anyway.”
“Good. Tell me everything.”
“Are you sure you want—”
“Absolutely. I want to hear how things are going.”
“Well, I’m doing quite well here, as a matter of fact.” Ella launched into a detailed explanation of the challenges she’d surmounted in the past few days. She’d put Verna right to work on the back bungalow. It was spotless now, all ready for Claire to decide what she wanted to do next about it. Oh, and speaking of Verna—the poor woman had been under the weather, she’d even called in sick today. But Ella had called Amelia and she was cleaning the rooms right now. Business was brisk. All the rooms were full, and Ella had taken several reservations for the coming months. She had had a little trouble with that couple in number three, but she’d gone and knocked on the door and told them to keep it quiet, or she’d have to ask them to leave. That had settled them down. Oh, and she’d had to write a few checks—to Eaton Slade, the handyman, who’d come in to fix a leaky faucet in number six, among other things. And to both Verna and Amelia—hadn’t payday been yesterday?
“Yes, Mother. I forgot all about it. Thanks for taking care of it for me.”
“You are very welcome. Oh. I almost forgot. Someone called from your lawyer’s office, to remind you that you’re supposed to meet with him at eight Monday morning, before the hearing. I told them you wouldn’t forget.” “Good.”
“All right, then. That’s all the news here. Now, tell me all about your trip,” Ella cheerfully commanded.
Claire evaded. “We had a great time, but I’ll explain all about it later, when we can sit down and talk.”
Tactfully, her mother asked, “Then will you be staying at the ranch again tonight?”
Claire looked up, then, and right into Joe’s waiting eyes. She raised her chin. “No, Mother. Now that I think about it, I’ve decided it’s time I got my things together and came home.”
“You have?” Ella sounded nonplussed. Clearly, Claire’s answer was not what she’d expected.
“Yes. I think it’s time, really, that I took up my responsibilities again. Life goes on, after all.”
Ella asked if she was sure.
“I am. I’ll be there soon.” Claire said goodbye and hung up.
The room seemed unnaturally quiet. Joe and Claire looked at each other.
Joe broke the silence. “What the hell? What’s going on?”
She was careful to stand very erect; he must know that she made her own decisions, that she was mistress of her own life. “I’m going home, Joe. I—I can’t hide here forever. It’s time I got back to my life.”
“You’re angry, right? Because I didn’t take you to the motel before I brought you here?”
“Yes. You had no right to do that. But that’s not why I’m going.”
“Then why?”
“I just told you—because it’s time I got back to my life.” Ha, a voice inside her head scoffed. It’s time to do more than get back to your life. It’s time to tell him your secret...
But she just couldn’t do it. Not yet. She was a coward at heart.
“Look, Claire.” He left the doorway and approached her, stopping at the edge of the table, across from her. “You don’t have to go anywhere.” He sounded so concerned, so caring. Would he sound that way when he learned what she was keeping from him? He continued, “Stay here. At least until Monday. Then, after the hearing, when you know...” He faltered. She understood. Just like everyone else, he wanted to make reality less ugly for her. “...where you stand, you can take it from there.”
She breathed deep. “I know where I stand, Joe. In very hot water. And I’m through pretending things are going to work out. It’s more than possible they won’t work out. Staying here is only hiding my head in the sand.”
Liar, her outraged conscience accused. You just want out, quick, so you don’t have to tell him. You’ll do anything right now, even give up a few more precious days with him, not to have to tell him. But be honest, with yourself at least, even if you insist on continuing your lies to him. You’re not leaving because he didn’t stop at the motel when you asked him to. And you’re not leaving because you have to get back to your life. You’re leaving because you can’t bear to look this man in the face and say what has to be said....
She spoke frantically, to silence that condemning voice in her head. “Look, Joe. You’ve been wonderful. You’ve done more than any friend in the world could ever be expected to do. But I have to stop leaning on you. I have to stand on my own two feet and face what is happening to me.”
Joe swore under his breath. “All right. Fine. You want to go back to the motel, I’ll come with you.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I told you. I have to get on with my life. No one can help me with that. I have to...straighten out my affairs, and I have to do it on my own.”
He stared at her. She felt that his eyes were trying to see into her head. “What the hell is going on here?”
“I just... I have to go.” She marched straight toward him—it was the only way she could get to the hall that led to the bedroom. She prayed he wouldn’t try to stop her.
Her prayers were futile. He grabbed her arm and pulled her up against his chest. “What is this? Something strange is going on. What’s bothering you?”
I’m going to have your baby...“Nothing. Everything. Please. Let me go.”
“Why won’t you talk to me?”
“Joe. I mean it. Let me go.”
“Damn it, Claire!”
“Let me go!”
“Tell me.”
“Nothing. There is nothing.”
“I ought to—”
“Joe, you’re hurting me!”
For a moment more, he held her, his grip like a vise. And then, his eyes suddenly cold, he let her go.
She turned and went to the bedroom, where she swiftly gathered up everything of hers that wasn’t already in the suitcase in the car.
As she turned to leave, she met him coming in, carrying his own big duffel bag that he’d brought in from the car. He edged around her, as if she we
re someone he didn’t want to touch even in passing, and set the bag down by the closet.
She turned to go, hoping, praying, that she could escape before he said another word.
“Claire,” he said from behind her.
She forced herself to face him once more.
He stood by the closet, his strong arms crossed over his broad, hard chest. “Whatever it is, I’ll find out.”
Her mouth went dry. She swallowed. He was right, of course. He would find out. In the end, it wasn’t the kind of thing she could hide anyway.
And she didn’t want to hide it. She just wanted... not to lose him.
Which was absurd, since she had never had him in the first place.
And, of course, she wouldn’t lose him. He would stand by her, insist on marrying her. That’s how he was.
But, deep in his most secret heart, his trust in her would die....
He must have seen the agony she was feeling. He softened his stance and coaxed, “Come on, Snow. Tell me. You can trust me, damn it.”
Oh, Joe, don’t you see? Of course, I can trust you. It’s you who should never have trusted me....
He took a step toward her. “Come on.” He reached out a hand.
She longed to stay. But if she stayed, she’d end up telling him. And she couldn’t do it. Not now. Later. Lord knew when. Just later. “No. I’m going. Thanks for...all you’ve done.” She turned and bolted for the door.
Chapter Fourteen
Joe let her go.
What the hell more could he do, short of using force, to stop her?
The answer was nothing. Not a damn thing.
He dropped to the bed and sat unmoving, listening intently. Faintly, he heard her car door slam outside, the engine rev to life, and the sound of tires crunching gravel as she backed toward the house and then drove through the split in the fence.
Soon enough, except for the low, steady hum of the window air conditioners he’d put in during his recent home improvement phase, there was quiet.
She was gone. Everything was back to normal again; he was alone.
Born Innocent Page 18
