Redeeming Claire

by Cynthia Rutledge

  Claire could only stare. At the very least she’d hoped they’d have one suite.

  “We’ll take one with a king,” Tony said.

  “Good choice.” The desk clerk smiled and winked. “Me and the missus used to sleep on a double. Those beds are okay, but you’re practically on top of each other.” His gaze settled on Claire. “Not that that’s all bad, mind you.”

  “Miss Waters will be the only one staying here.” A silken thread of warning ran through Tony’s voice, but his smile softened the words and he extended his hand in greeting. “I’m Pastor Karelli. I’m the new minister at Grace Community over on Elm.”

  “Floyd Peeks. I’m the owner. Pleased to meet you.” The man shook Tony’s hand before his gaze once again shifted to Claire.

  “And this is Claire Waters,” Tony said. “My fiancée.”

  “You sure are a pretty little thing,” Floyd said, his smile widening.

  Claire raised a brow. Tony’s hand tightened on her arm.

  “Thank you.” She forced a smile. “Would it be possible for you to show me the room? I’d like to see it before I commit to anything.”

  “Shore thing.” Floyd grabbed a set of keys hanging from a nail and hollered, “Honey, watch the front. I’ll be gone for a few minutes.”

  A feminine voice sounded from the back, barely perceptible over a blaring television. Floyd nodded and led them outside without a backward glance.

  In a matter of minutes Claire’s hopes for a simple but elegant room were dashed by a heavy dose of reality.

  The room was simple, all right. If she’d been feeling particularly kind, she’d have called it quaint. But it was about as far from elegant as you could get. A slightly musty odor permeated the interior, and Claire noticed both the bathroom sink and the tub had large rust stains around the drain.

  Claire followed Mr. Peeks back to the office, Tony’s arm resting companionably around her shoulders. She tried to still her unease by telling herself this was only temporary. She’d just be staying until Daddy calmed down. If only she knew how long that would take.

  When she’d taken his new Mercedes convertible in high school without permission and promptly totaled it, things had been back to normal within two weeks. When she’d told her sorority sisters that her father had promised them all a cruise and charged it to his business account, it had taken almost a month before he’d come around. In the scheme of things, this latest incident should be forgiven, if not forgotten, in three weeks max.

  Perhaps she should call him tonight. That way she’d be able to assess his mood and plot her strategy accordingly. After all these years she could tell a lot by the tone of his voice.

  “Do you want the room?”

  She looked up to find both Tony and Mr. Peeks staring at her.

  “Okay.” Resigned to the inevitable, Claire reached into her designer bag and pulled out the matching wallet. “I’ll take it.”

  “That’ll be forty-five fifty, including tax.”

  Claire handed him the platinum Visa. At least Daddy had let her keep his credit card. Right before she’d left she’d been worried he was going to ask for it back. He’d started talking about her free ride coming to an end and how it was past time she earned her own way. But thankfully he’d been distracted by a phone call.

  “I won’t be long.” Floyd gestured to the back room. “Mother’s got all the credit card stuff with her.”

  Claire turned to Tony the minute the man left. “His mother? She must be ancient.”

  Tony chuckled. “I think he’s referring to his wife.”

  “Oh, puh-leeze.” Claire rolled her eyes.

  “No, I’m serious.”

  “You don’t expect me to really believe he calls his wife ‘mother.”’

  “Some men do.”

  “I can tell you one thing,” Claire said. “My husband will never call me mother.”

  “I’m ’fraid we got a problem.” The door creaked open. Floyd returned with a somber expression on his face. “Visa doesn’t like your card.”

  “What do you mean, doesn’t like it?” Claire narrowed her gaze.

  “The machine wouldn’t take it,” Floyd said. “So I called ’em.”

  He opened a drawer and took out a pair of orange-handled scissors.

  “And?” Claire held her breath.

  “They told me the account has been closed.” He lifted the scissors. “And I was to cut up the card.”

  “No—”

  Before the word fully left her mouth the act was done. Two pieces of silver plastic fell to the counter.

  “Why did you do that?” Claire shrieked. “It was obviously a mistake. Now you’ve ruined my card.”

  “No mistake.” Floyd shook his head. “They told me to cut it up, and I did.”

  Claire ran a shaky hand through her hair, her mind racing. Surely her father wouldn’t have closed the account without telling her. A vision of his enraged face the night before she left Cedar Ridge flashed before her. Her shoulders sagged.

  “If you have another card I could run that one through,” Floyd said.

  If only it could be that simple. Unfortunately her billfold was empty. No money. No plastic.

  Claire slanted a sideways glance at Tony and raised a brow.

  He shook his head slightly and shifted his gaze to the man. “Mr. Peeks, could you give us a few minutes?”

  A look of understanding flashed across the motel owner’s face. “Ah, sure. Just give a yell when you’re ready.”

  Claire waited until the man had left the room before she spoke.

  “Do you have any money you could lend me?” Her cheeks burned hot with humiliation. “I’ll pay you back.”

  “I’d do it in a heartbeat.” Tony shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “But I used most of my savings to pay off my school bills and the rest to move here. I get paid at the end of the month, but—”

  “You don’t have to explain.” Claire held up one hand. “You’re broke. I’m broke. I get the picture.”

  She moved to the motel window and looked out on the row of units, unable to believe that she, who just last week had dropped a hundred dollars over lunch without batting an eye, couldn’t afford to stay in this fleabag of a motel.

  “Life is certainly not fair,” she said with a sigh.

  “No, it’s not.”

  Claire lifted her gaze. Was that a hint of amusement in his eyes? “You think this is funny?”

  “No, of course not.” His lips twitched, and his cough sounded suspiciously like a chuckle.

  “Yes, you do.” Her voice rose in spite of her attempts to control it. “I’m nearly at the end of my rope and you’re ready to burst out laughing.”

  “Oh, Claire.” His hand moved to her shoulder.

  She jerked away.

  “I’m not laughing at you,” he said. “But it is funny. Think about it. You’re standing there with a two-hundred-dollar Coach purse in your hand, and I have a thirty-thousand-dollar Jeep Cherokee in the parking lot. Yet together we can’t scrounge up enough money for a one-night stay.”

  “At the Shabby Inn.” In spite of herself, laughter bubbled up from deep inside Claire. “Forty-five fifty.”

  “Including tax.” Tony’s laughter joined hers.

  They laughed until tears spilled from their lids and the tension gripping Claire eased.

  “But what am I going to do?” She took a deep breath and composed herself, wiping away the last traces of tears from her cheeks.

  “God will provide,” Tony said softly. “In the meantime, how about some ice cream? I think I have enough for that.”

  “Ice cream?” Claire glanced at her watch. “It’s nearly time for dinner.”

  “Afraid I’m going to spoil my supper with ice cream, Mother?” Tony said teasingly.

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “Mother.” The dimple in his cheek flashed.

  Claire stepped forward until she stood so close they were almost touching. Th
e smell of his spicy cologne filled her nostrils, and a shiver traveled up her spine. “You’re going to pay for that.”

  He looked down, his brown eyes as dark as the richest chocolate. “What do you have in mind?”

  She lifted her face, her gaze focused squarely on his lips. Her breath came in short, shallow puffs.

  His head lowered.

  “Have you two decided—?”

  Tony jerked back. Disappointment surged through Claire, and she turned toward the intruder accusingly.

  Red rose up Floyd’s neck. He ran a finger inside his shirt collar as if it had suddenly grown too tight.

  “Go ahead. I mean—” Floyd stammered and stopped. The red darkened to crimson.

  Beside her Tony smiled, his arm sliding around her waist. “Actually, Mr. Peeks, Claire and I are going to grab something to eat. Then she’ll decide what she wants to do.”

  Claire glanced admiringly at Tony. If her heart wasn’t still beating double time she might have believed that they were just talking. “We’ll stop back if I decide to take the room.”

  “Okeydoke,” the man said. “Nice to meet you. Reverend, ma’am.”

  “Nice to meet you, too, Floyd. Maybe I’ll see you in church?”

  Floyd shrugged. “I guess anything is possible.”

  Tony laughed and raised a hand in a farewell wave. He ushered Claire through the door, and they headed toward the Jeep.

  “Have we even decided where we’re going?”

  He only smiled.

  “You’re serious?” She widened her eyes. “We’re going to get ice cream?”

  That adorable dimple flashed again, and a mischievous look filled his eyes. “Now, Mo—”

  Before he could finish, Claire turned, wrapped her arms around him and pressed her mouth to his. His lips burned against hers. She reveled in the fiery sensation and melted against him.

  Finally, they parted. Claire ran a shaky hand through her disheveled hair. She’d kissed more than a few guys in her lifetime, but none had ever made her feel like this.

  “Wow,” Tony said. “What was that for?”

  “Just a little reminder.”

  “Reminder?”

  “That I’m not you’re mother.” She kept her husky voice to a whisper. “Never have been. Never will be. Is that clear?”

  Tony stared thoughtfully for a long moment, a strange glint in his eyes. “Have I ever told you about my learning disability?”

  “What are you talking about?” Claire frowned. “What learning disability?”

  “My memory sometimes fails me.” Now it was his turn to pull her close. “So if I ever call you Mother, feel free to remind me again.” His lips brushed hers. “And again.”

  “You know,” she said. “I just might have to do that.”

  “So what are you going to do?” Tony took a bite of the hot fudge sundae and glanced at Claire.

  She took a dainty nibble of her small vanilla cone and wiped her lips with a napkin before answering. “I’m going to call my father when we get back to Mrs. Sandy’s and see if he’s calmed down.”

  Tony didn’t know the whole story behind Claire leaving Cedar Ridge, but it didn’t seem like something that could be mended with a simple phone call. Still, she knew her father better than he did.

  “Then what?”

  “Then I’ll get ready for the party.” She took a sip of her soda.

  “So you’re still planning to go?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Claire smiled. “Don’t look so shocked. I told you I’d go and I will.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  She waved a dismissive hand. “Actually my social calendar is so wide-open that even a meeting with a bunch of boring church officials sounds appealing.”

  “What you have on will be fine.” Tony knew she’d been worried about what to wear.

  “I think not.” Claire tossed the rest of her cone into the metal garbage can at the edge of the picnic table and stifled a yawn. “But I’m sure I can find something in my suitcase that will work.”

  Tony noticed for the first time the lines of fatigue around her eyes. “You never did get your nap.”

  “That’s okay.” Claire lifted a large paper cup. “There’s enough caffeine in this cola to keep me going all night.”

  “Remember Nick and Taylor’s engagement party and how we danced until dawn?”

  “What I remember is how glad Taylor was to see you.” Her lips curved in a smile. “And how jealous Nick was.”

  Tony shifted uncomfortably. He deeply regretted his involvement in that whole situation. At the time he’d thought Taylor was marrying the wrong man. It wasn’t until later he’d realized Claire had only been using him to get to Nick.

  She was using you then and she’s using you now. Once she’s got what she wants, she’ll be gone.

  He shoved his doubts aside. “How long are you going to stay in Millville?”

  “Depends.” She flicked a strand of hair over her shoulder. “On how long it takes Daddy to get over being mad. And on how long it takes me to convince him I have a relationship with you.”

  No longer hungry, Tony tossed the rest of his sundae into the garbage can. It seemed he’d been right to be concerned.

  “So once your father believes your lies, you’ll be gone.” He couldn’t quite keep the irritation from his voice.

  “Don’t go getting all holier-than-thou on me.” Claire’s dark eyes flashed. “You’re no innocent.”

  Tony started to say that his situation was different, but he stopped himself just in time. A lie was a lie regardless of intent. “You’re right. I’ll tell them tonight.”

  “Are you crazy?” Claire’s voice was loud and incredulous.

  A couple at a nearby table turned to look, and Tony smiled through gritted teeth. “Keep your voice down, please.”

  “I never said you should come clean.” Her eyes were wide with disbelief. “They’ll fire you.”

  “Maybe I deserve it.” A knot formed in his stomach. All he’d wanted was to serve God. How had everything gone so wrong?

  “Tony.” Claire’s hand closed over his, and genuine concern filled her eyes. “You didn’t lie to them when you interviewed.”

  “I know,” he said with a sigh. “They somehow got the other guy and I mixed up.”

  “Look, have you ever thought that maybe God wanted you here? That it was His will that you were called to this community? That it was His will that I stopped by when I did?”

  “Are you saying that God orchestrated all of this?”

  “I don’t know,” Claire said with a little shrug. “You’re the minister. You tell me.”

  “I can’t imagine…”

  “Don’t they say that God works in mysterious ways?”

  Tony reluctantly nodded.

  “Think about it. You and I engaged?” She laughed. “It doesn’t get much crazier than that.”

  Chapter Five

  “Could you do me a favor?” Tony cleared his throat and slanted a sideways glance at Claire.

  “I’m already doing you one,” she said. “Pretending to be your fiancée puts you in my debt, big-time.”

  He smiled, but a worried look lingered on his face.

  The sounds of voices and laughter traveled up the stairs to the landing, and Tony stiffened.

  “Okay, spit it out.” Claire shot Tony an assessing look. “What’s the favor?”

  He shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way….”

  Claire rolled her eyes. “Just say it.”

  “You’re a beautiful woman.” Tony paused for a second before he continued. “You respond to men, they respond to you. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that.”

  “Your point?” She lifted a brow.

  “I don’t want you to flirt tonight.” His words came out in a rush. “I know it’s innocent and all, but I wouldn’t want the church council to get the wrong idea.”

  “Is that th
e favor?” Her gaze lingered on his broad chest. With his navy chinos and madras shirt with its button-down collar, Tony looked more like a GQ model than a small-town minister. He was much too handsome for his own good.

  “That’s it.” He spread his hands. “That’s all I ask.”

  She stared at him for a moment. Why was it so hard to resist a good-looking guy? Claire brushed her lips against his cheek, and the tightness in his jaw eased beneath her touch. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

  Claire took a sip of ginger ale and wrinkled her nose. She watched Mrs. Sandy make her way across the crowded living room. Perhaps this was her chance to ask for a nice glass of Merlot.

  Before she could even raise the question the landlady buzzed by her without stopping, a harried expression on her face.

  Claire considered calling to her, but she thought better of it. The woman was busy. And as long as Claire was in her gracious mode, she might as well extend that consideration to Mrs. Sandy.

  After all, the woman had let her use the shower in the maid’s quarters and had agreed to let her use the room for the night. If she could get her father to wire her some money, perhaps Mrs. Sandy would reconsider her decision to keep the room available for live-in help.

  “How do you like Millville?” A woman with mousy brown hair and a pleasant expression smiled and took a seat in the chair opposite Claire.

  “You’re Dottie? Right?”

  The woman flushed with pleasure. “I’m surprised you remembered.”

  “Your husband owns the hardware store,” Claire recited. “And you just had your first baby six months ago.”

  “I wish I had your memory,” Dottie said with an admiring gaze. “I’ve lived here for almost a year, and I still have trouble with names.”

  “Where did you live before?” Claire didn’t really care, but Dottie was the first woman to go out of her way to talk to her. And since she’d promised Tony she’d steer clear of the men, that left her with few options.

  “John grew up in Millville.”

  The face of a tall, broad-shouldered man somewhere in his late twenties flashed in Claire’s mind.

  “We met in college and stayed in Denver after we got married. We’d been there almost eight years before we decided to move back here.”