by Cindy Dees
He dreamed of being under fire, with bullets flying and explosions detonating while he searched frantically for his downed comrades, all the while praying desperately that they were still alive. One by one, he found their broken remains, absorbing the blow of each death with increasing agony. The last body he found was Anna’s. Her lifeless eyes stared up at him pleadingly, her arms frozen in an attitude of reaching for help. Reaching for him.
He jolted awake, breathing so hard he was light-headed.
“What’s wrong?” Anna asked from beside him.
“Bad dream.”
“They seem more real than reality, don’t they? I wake up convinced for a minute that they really happened.”
He squeezed his eyes closed. “I dreamed you died.”
“And you panicked? That’s so sweet.”
He stared at her. “It’s sweet that I dreamed you died horribly?”
“No. It’s sweet that dreaming of my death bothered you.”
Her arms came around him, tugging him closer to her. He laid his ear on her left collarbone, letting the very much alive beat of her heart thump all the way through him, cutting past the terror and brutal images of his dream.
She was warm and soft and here with him now. All that other stuff was gone. Best left in the past. Only she was worth keeping and saving from the carnage he’d just imagined. “I will keep you safe,” he murmured against her satin skin.
“I know you will,” she murmured into his hair. “Sleep now. I’m here.”
And to his disbelief, he did drift off to sleep, listening to her heartbeat and relishing her arms around him, protecting him from his nightmares. He still had a lot of crap to work out, and goodness knew, so did she. But for tonight, for this moment, they were both okay. And it was perfect.
Chapter 15
Anna woke up to dim light showing through dark blue curtains—where was she? Oh. Right. Brett’s bedroom in the main house. Her bra dug into her rib, and she reached for it to straighten it.
Brett stirred beside her, and she smiled at him. Last night had been intimate in an emotional way that was almost more intense than sex. What did it mean that he was dreaming of her? Did he return at least some of her feelings?
Carefully, she slipped out from under the covers and tiptoed out of the room. She headed downstairs and was not surprised today to see a dozen men eating pancakes that John Morgan was cooking on a big griddle in the kitchen. She was just about to join the men and grab a plate of flapjacks when the back door opened. Joe Westlake stepped inside and traded friendly greetings with everyone. He spotted her, and said quietly, “Can I speak with you for a moment outside?”
Alarmed, she nodded and followed him onto the long, covered back porch, where they were alone.
“I’ve got some news for you, Anna, and you’re not going to like it.”
She girded herself for she knew not what.
“Yesterday, Mona Billingham filed a civil lawsuit against you for the wrongful death of her son.”
Anna stared at him. Words refused to form in her head, and she was only aware of the heat draining from her face, leaving her frozen.
“I have a summons to serve on you to appear in a preliminary hearing in two weeks’ time.” He pulled a folded document out of his inner coat pocket. “This is a piece of paper with a lot of legal terms on it that boil down to this—you have to show up for the hearing, and you’d be smart to bring a lawyer with you.”
“I can’t afford a lawyer!”
“There’s a legal aid clinic in Butte, and you can ask for a court-appointed representative. Trust me, Anna. You need a lawyer.”
“Can I catch a ride back to town with you?” she asked.
“Sure. But don’t you want to tell Brett about this first?”
“No! He has enough problems to deal with. He doesn’t need my messes piling on his existing stressors.”
Joe frowned. “He’s pretty strong—”
“He’s dealing with some pretty terrible fallout from his last mission.”
Joe pressed his lips together in a thin line of disapproval, but thankfully, he didn’t argue with her.
She followed him back to the cruiser and paused beside it. “Am I supposed to ride in the back since I’ve been sued?”
Joe laughed. “Hell, no. Sit beside me in front. Just don’t touch any of the equipment.”
She slid into the front seat, eyeing askance the laptop computer mounted at an angle facing the driver, and various radios and cubbyholes with sinister-looking gear in them.
Joe glanced over at her as the car cruised back toward town. “Miranda and John say you’re doing good things for Brett.”
She shrugged. “I think he’s doing more good for me than I am for him.”
“He seems happier since he met you. I just wanted to say thanks on behalf of the family.”
“Uh, thanks.” She wanted to crawl under the seat and hide in shame. Finally, she’d been accused of Eddie’s murder. It might be only a civil case, but the truth would come out now, and everyone would know her secrets.
Joe commented, “The lawyer Mona hired is a creep. He’s a known ambulance chaser and all around slimy guy. I can recommend a couple of excellent defense lawyers who would love to take him down a few pegs on your behalf.”
“That’s kind of you, but I really can’t afford a lawyer. As you know, my car was just totaled, and I’m in the middle of renovating my house. Plus, I’m trying to help a neighbor not lose her house. I can’t take on any more financial burdens, I’m afraid.”
“You can’t represent yourself, Anna! Mona’s lawyer may be a jerk, but he’s not incompetent. Without a good lawyer, you’re going to face a very large financial penalty.”
“How much is Mona suing me for?”
“Ten million dollars.”
Anna laughed, partly in disbelief, and partly in genuine humor at the absurdity of that number. “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Apparently, she blames you for costing her potential income from Eddie’s future earnings as an actor.”
“She is aware he was a complete failure and never got a single decent job as an actor in Hollywood, right? Not to mention he snorted or shot up or drank away every penny he could lay his hands on. I had to hide my paycheck in a secret bank account so I could even pay the bills every month.”
Joe pulled a face. “I was never a member of the Eddie Billingham fan club. But you’re still going to have to go through the process of a trial and provide proof of everything you’ve just told me.”
“How am I supposed to prove he was a drunk and an addict? He’s dead!”
“I can request reports from the police in California. Please tell me you called them at least a few times.”
She rolled her eyes. “I was on a first-name basis with half the police force where we lived.”
“Perfect. I’ll ask for copies of all those records. When you hire a lawyer, let me know and I’ll forward copies to him or her.”
She just shook her head. She really couldn’t afford to pay a lawyer a dime.
Joe dropped her off at her house, and she slogged through the heavy snow to her front porch. She spent the next hour shoveling snow off her sidewalk and porch. The one advantage of not having a car was she didn’t have to bother shoveling her driveway.
She was just stowing her snow shovel in the ramshackle garage behind her house when a truck pulled into the driveway, but not Brett’s truck.
Jimbo Billingham rolled down the window to shout out at her, “I guess you’re not so high and mighty now, are you? We’re going to make you pay for killing Eddie!”
She leaned on the shovel, winded from the hard workout, and just stared at him. “I’ve got nothing, Jimbo. You can’t squeeze tears from a rock, and you can’t squeeze money out of me that I don’t have. I don’t kno
w what you and your mother hope to accomplish with this lawsuit of yours.”
“Yeah, well, now you’re dating Brett Morgan. He’ll pay up to keep you out of jail.”
So that was why they were suing her now? They thought they could squeeze the Morgans by way of her? Oh, no way. The Morgans had been nothing but wonderful and welcoming to her.
She advanced toward him, gripping the shovel tightly. “Let me tell you something, Jimbo Billingham. If you want to air the truth out in court, I’m all for it. I’ll be happy to testify to all the times Eddie hit me and stole money and got high. Let’s really air out the truth. Let’s talk about the whores you and Eddie hired when you came to Los Angeles to visit, and let’s talk about your mother’s drunken stupors on my living room sofa with her son. Yes, indeed. Let’s air it all out!”
She realized with disgust that she was nearly shouting. She snorted and turned away from Jimbo. He simply wasn’t worth the oxygen to even talk to.
“Don’t you turn your back on me,” Jimbo snarled.
She turned back to face him. “Or else what, Jimbo? You’ll hit me like Eddie did? Or date-rape me like you did that girl when you were in the eleventh grade? Or maybe you’ll try to run me off the road and kill me, huh?”
He glared at her, eyes narrow. “You’re a crazy bitch.”
She brandished her shovel at him. “You’d better believe it, Jimbo. And I’ve had it with you and your mother. Get off my property and don’t come back.”
He slammed his truck into reverse and spun his tires, throwing up a huge rooster tail of snow in her direction. She dodged it, frustrated at herself for losing her temper with him. One thing she knew from long years of dealing with his brother: losing her temper at a Billingham never led to anything good.
She looked up, and her next-door neighbor, the artist, was standing on his front porch. “You okay?” he called over to her.
She sent him a weak attempt at a smile. “Yes, I’m fine. That was just my ex-brother-in-law. He’s not a very nice guy.”
“Ya think?” The artist grinned. “Holler if you need anything, okay? Like Emma Rogers says, neighbors stick together.”
She was almost reduced to tears by his kindness. Since Brett had arranged for her to take a few days off work already, now was the perfect time to deal with getting herself a car. She went inside to clean up and then headed out, walking to the used car lot about ten blocks away from her house, checkbook in her pocket.
The salesman was kind to her and suggested a car that would almost wipe out her savings but was sturdy, in good shape and capable of handling both mountains and snow. She was sure he was making her a good deal on the vehicle, but she couldn’t justify spending all that money when the Rogerses were about to lose their home. She chose the ugliest car on the lot, a junker that looked in grave danger of falling to pieces at the first hard jolt. But, it left her with right at two thousand dollars in her savings. The car salesman reluctantly sold her the car and threw in a full tank of gas.
Her first stop in Fugly, as she immediately dubbed the car, was the county courthouse. She headed for the desk of the county clerk, who’d told her about the Rogerses’ home going into foreclosure.
“Hello, Anna,” the woman said warmly. “If you’re here to deal with a lawsuit, that’s upstairs in the District Attorney’s office.”
The Sunny Creek gossip network was obviously in full swing. “Actually, I’m here to ask if I can pay some of the Rogerses’ back taxes. I don’t have all the money yet, but if I paid a couple years’ worth of their taxes, would that stop their house from being auctioned off?”
“I’m afraid not. The whole amount will have to be cleared.”
“Still. I have two thousand dollars, and I’d like to apply that to their taxes.”
“You’ll lose all of your money if the rest of the taxes aren’t paid by the end of next week. I can’t let you do that—”
“I insist.” If Billie and Mona were going to wipe her out and take all of her worldly possessions from her anyway, she would just as soon have her last money go toward helping a friend in need than to them. “The neighbors are throwing a big yard sale this coming weekend. Hopefully, we’ll raise the rest of the money.”
The clerk was unhappy at taking her check but did accept it.
There. Now she was officially broke. She didn’t have anything left to lose.
Except, of course, the man she’d given her heart to. But as soon as Brett heard her tell the whole truth about what had happened the night Eddie died, he would turn his back on her, too. And then she would truly hit rock bottom.
Honestly, she wished the bottom would get here fast. The waiting was almost worse than having nothing, than being nothing. After all those soul-sucking years with Eddie, she was good at being nothing. It was familiar to her. This whole business of being happy, of making a home for herself, of carving out some peace—that had been the anomaly in her life.
She left the courthouse and headed over to the diner to see if she could pick up some extra shifts. If she was going to eat this week, she needed the work.
When she stepped into the diner, a noticeable hush fell over the customers. Oh, great. Mona and Jimbo had obviously been bragging about their lawsuit here, too. Well, goodie. If she was going to be a pariah to the people she cared about in this town, she might as well be a pariah to everyone.
Embracing her role as outcast, Jezebel and whatever else Jimbo and Mona had called her, she tied on an apron and went to work, painting on a pleasant, wooden mask of politeness. She deflected the sly comments, refused to rise to the subtle pokes and digs, and ignored the outright insults hurled at her over the next few hours. Apparently, Mona’s friends had found out Anna was working today and flocked to Pittypat’s for the sole purpose of tormenting her.
She was exhausted when she got off her shift, but decided to drive over to Hillsdale to see if Vinny would give her the new windowpane on credit. She started up the McMinn Pass road and came to the spot where she’d been forced off the road. A temporary guardrail had been installed, and she held her breath all the way around the curve until she was past the spot where she’d miraculously avoided death. Of course, the miracle had been Brett’s immediate arrival and his medical training. He’d gotten her out of the car, warmed up, and to a doctor before she could freeze to death or go into shock.
As she wound down the east side of the McMinn Range toward Hillsdale, she was able to relax a little and let her thoughts wander. Earlier, it had crossed her mind that she was falling for Brett, and now she circled back to that moment.
She poked and prodded at the idea and could only conclude that she was, indeed, well on the way to falling in love with him. He was all of the things Eddie had not been. Sure, he had nightmares and emotional baggage left over from his military career. But most soldiers did, right? He was a good man and his kind heart and courage would prevail. He would overcome his memories and flashbacks. And now that he was reconnecting with his family, they would get him the rest of way from where he was to well-adjusted. Heck, Willa Mathers was a lot more qualified to counsel Brett than she was.
Well, didn’t that just figure? She found a man she could imagine actually spending her life with...just in time to lose him to her screwed-up past. That was pretty much par for the course in how her life had gone.
She pulled into the parking lot of Vinny’s junk shop—smiling a little at Brett’s insistence on calling it that—and took a deep breath. She couldn’t, she wouldn’t, sleep with Vinny to get that piece of glass. But she had no doubt he was going to make her grovel for it.
“Well, lookee here!” Vinny exclaimed. “It’s my favorite girl. Come to run away with me, have you?”
She tried to smile at him, but feared her expression was no more than a hollow parody. “I was wondering if you still have that piece of glass you told me about and what it will cost me. I’m a little sho
rt on cash at the moment.”
Her tips this afternoon had been awful. Mona’s friends had seemed to take pleasure in tipping her just enough to insult her. She would have preferred they not tip her at all rather than leave her the handfuls of pennies that they had. In total, she’d made under twenty dollars in tips.
“I’m sure we can come to some arrangement,” Vinny purred. “The glass is back this way.”
Oh, God. As she’d feared. His dirty mind had immediately gone to that place. She’d worked around the porn industry for long enough to know a sleazy come-on when she heard one.
She held her ground at the front counter. “I have a little money. What will the glass cost?”
“Come in the back. Let me show it to you.”
“Vinny, I’m in a hurry. I need to get back over the pass before it gets dark. Will you give me a price or not?”
“No need to get huffy with me, Missy.”
Her molars ground together inside her mouth. Eddie used to call her Missy, and she hated it.
“It’s old glass. Thick. Solid. Same vintage as the other windows I sold you.”
“A price, Vinny.”
“Forty bucks.”
“For a piece of old glass that’s of no use to anyone else?” she exclaimed. “That’s highway robbery.”
He shrugged. “Take it or leave it. It’s not my window that got a brick through it.”
Something clicked inside her head. How did he know that a brick had broken out her window? In fact, now that she thought about it, he’d called her within a matter of hours after the brick incident and had known her window was broken. Warnings flashed inside her head, and she smiled carefully at him. “You’re right, of course. I’m sorry I was short with you. It has been a long day, and I had a hard shift at work. You’ve taken such great care of me and my little house. I don’t know what I would have done without your help and advice.”
