It didn't feel that good. "It's just that we're in the middle of the highway," she said, feeling an urge to explain.
"And if we were somewhere else, you'd find another reason. It's fine, Kat. I know who you are, and who I am, and we don't go together. You need to go home, find some city guy to marry you, have a couple of kids, forget about Kentucky.”
"Forget about you?" she asked.
"Yes." His eyes burned into hers.
"I don't think I can," she whispered. "I'm falling for you, Zach."
"You'll feel differently in a few minutes when you have a chance to think about what I told you. My mother was a prostitute. My father was and is a thief. And I'm no innocent either. What you need, you can't get from me."
"You don't have the first clue what I need. And why does it have to be about what you can give me? What about what I can give you?"
"You can't give me a Kentucky Derby winner, and that's all I want."
"I can give you someone to trust. And despite your claims, I know you like me -- far more than you want to admit.”
"Far more than I want to," he agreed, then straightened in his seat and started the car. "We need to get back.”
A tense silence fell between them as they drove down the highway. She wanted to say more, but Zach had turned the radio up, making it clear he was done with conversation for the time being. And even if he was willing to listen to her, she had no idea what to say. They did come from different worlds and when she found her father, wouldn't, she be going back to L.A.?
She was surprised at the doubt in her own head. Of course she'd go home to her life.
"What are you going to do now?" Zach asked as they reached the turnoff for Paradise.
She was surprised by the casual question, which seemed so at odds with the deep emotional conflicts running through her head. "I'm not sure. Maybe a nap," she said. "Today started way too early."
"I'll drop you off at the hotel then." A few minutes later he pulled up in front of the Paradise Inn. He didn't turn off the motor or set the parking brake, just waited for her to get out.
"Thanks," she said as she opened the door.
"No problem."
Pausing, she gave him one last look and sighed. "I can't do this.”
"Do what?" he asked warily.
She leaned across the seat, and kissed him on the mouth. His surprise turned to a quick, hot passion. What she'd started, he was more than happy to finish. He put a hand around the back of her neck and dragged her half onto his lap, thrusting his tongue into her mouth with a groan of need and satisfaction. He tasted her again and again, all the tension between them combusting in one hot, out-of-control fire.
Zach's hands crept under her sweater, molding her breasts with his fingers, pressing her back against the steering wheel until a sharp piercing horn shocked them back to reality.
"Well, I never," a woman said in a shrill voice.
She looked over at the sidewalk where two older women were staring at them in horror. She pulled down her sweater, embarrassment flooding her cheeks with a rosy blush as she moved back into her own seat.
"Zach Tyler, you're as bad as your papa," the other woman said, shaking a finger at them. "Don't bring your hussies into our town." She gave Katherine a disdainful look, then the two continued on their way.
She looked at Zach in amazement. "She called me a hussy. I didn't think people used that word anymore."
"You are a hussy, attacking me like that in broad daylight. Whatever were you thinking, Miss Whitfield?" he said with a small smile.
"Obviously, I wasn't thinking. I better go before we get arrested."
"It might be worth it," Zach said as she got out of the truck.
"Oh, it would definitely be worth it," she replied with a bold smile.
"You know, you continually surprise me, Kat."
"Lately I surprise myself," she admitted as she slammed the door on any more reckless actions. She was flirting with disaster, giving in to impulse instead of thinking logically, rationally. She'd have to make a list, she told herself as she walked into the hotel. All the reasons why she should not make love with Zach Tyler. And then she'd have to find a way stick to it.
* * *
Mary Jo Baker tapped her fingernails restlessly on the top of the table, wondering again why Leeanne had suggested they meet at the Paradise Inn. The hotel had a nice restaurant, but Leeanne usually preferred something more stylish, such as The Tea Room.
Mary Jo looked up as Leeanne breezed through the front doors of the hotel, wearing a pale peach linen suit with a matching hat and a dazzling silk scarf. She looked sophisticated, sexy, and as usual, Mary Jo felt like a frump in her plain gray slacks and black blazer.
"You're late," she said when Leeanne reached the table.
"Five minutes."
"More like fifteen. That's a terrific hat."
Leeanne sat down with a wide, wicked smile. "Don't you love it? Wait until you see the one I got for the Derby. It is fabulous."
"I'll bet. So tell me something, why are we meeting here?"
"It's quiet. We can talk without being disturbed, without anyone overhearing what we're saying."
Mary Jo sent her a suspicious look. "What are we going to be talking about that's so private?"
Leeanne gave a false, guilty little laugh. "Whatever strikes us. I don't know." She picked up her white linen napkin and set it in her lap as the waiter brought over their tea. After assuring him that they didn't need anything else for the moment, Leeanne stirred in exactly one teaspoon of sugar and swirled the tea with her spoon three times. Mary Jo couldn't help smiling.
Leeanne looked over at her and raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "What's so amusing?"
"Us," Mary Jo said. "I can remember a time when we considered lying on the grass eating peanut butter and banana sandwiches a perfect lunch. And we didn't even wash our hands before we ate. Now, we're..." Mary Jo couldn't bring herself to say the word.
"We're what?" she asked, tilting her head to one side, so that her hat looked even more rakish and daring.
"We're matrons. Our makeup isn't covering up freckles anymore, it's covering up wrinkle lines. We've both dyed our hair so many times, I barely remember our true colors."
"Personally, I've always thought you should add more gold streaks or a copper tone to your hair, or maybe go pitch black. Your blond hair color is so conservative."
"Like me," Mary Jo said with a sigh. "I can't change."
"Sure you can."
"No, I can't, and neither can you. We're the same girls we were thirty years ago, just the packaging is different. You're still the reckless flirt, and I'm still the shy wallflower."
"What's brought on all this soul-searching? A midlife crisis?"
"Why not? I'm middle-aged and married to a first-class jerk."
"Yes, well, J.T. has changed for the worse.”
"Or maybe I never really knew who he was. At least you know who Jimmy is."
"Do l?" Leeanne asked. "Sometimes I'm not so sure."
"And sometimes you let your imagination get the better of you, wanting to turn Jimmy into a man of mystery when he's just a very nice guy."
"I suppose you're right." Leeanne turned her head again, taking another look at the lobby just as she'd done three minutes earlier.
Mary Jo's earlier suspicions returned. "Okay, what are we really doing here and who are you looking for? Don't try to lie. I've known you since you were eight years old, and I know how you get when you're plotting something."
"Very well. I'm hoping we might run into Miss Whitfield."
Mary Jo sent her a curious look. "The woman J.T. doused with his drink a few nights ago? Why would we want to run into her?"
"Because Miss Whitfield came to town for a reason, Mary Jo. She's looking for her father, and she thinks it might be Jimmy."
"No!" she said in shock.
"Oh, yes. She stopped by the bank on Friday asking Jimmy all kinds of questions. Seems her father's name starte
d with a J."
"But Jimmy is a straight arrow," she said with a shake of her head. "He would never cheat on you, not in a million years. Not like J -- What did you say about the initial J?"
Leeanne looked into her eyes as the equation suddenly changed.
"Oh, dear," Leanne said. She reached out to pat Mary Jo on the hand. "Now, don't you start fretting about J.T. Miss Whitfield didn't come looking for him."
"Not yet anyway. Oh, Lord. J.T. is a much more likely candidate than Jimmy."
"I don't know." Leeanne's eyes narrowed. "I was watching Jimmy when she came to see him, and he lied to her, Mary Jo. I know that as well as I know my own name. I've spent the last three days trying to worm some information out of him, and he's got his mouth locked up as tight as that bank vault. It's obvious to me that if I want information, I'm going to have to get it from Miss Whitfield."
Mary Jo shook her head, trying to make sense of it all. "I can't believe Jimmy would have a grown daughter. How old is this woman anyway?"
"I don't recall if she said. Twenty-six, twenty-seven, I think."
"That would be when you and Jimmy first married."
"When he was taking night classes in Lexington," Leeanne replied.
"And J.T. was living part of the time in Louisville right before our marriage." Mary Jo leaned forward, dropping her voice down to a whisper. "I think we should go. I don't have any desire to see this Miss Whitfield. If she hasn't come sniffing around J.T., I sure don't want to encourage it."
"Well, I have a few questions I'd like to ask her."
She couldn't imagine why Leeanne wanted to confront this woman who was threatening to upset their lives. "I don't understand you." She frowned as she considered the shining energetic lights in Leeanne's eyes, the nervous energy in her thin body. Leeanne didn't look at all upset by the fact that her husband might have fathered a child with someone else. "Doesn't it bother you that she's accusing your husband of being unfaithful, of having some deep dark secret? You act like you want this to be true."
"Of course I don't."
Mary Jo sent her a pointed stare.
"Oh, all right," she replied with a shrug. "I can't help being a little titillated by the idea of Jimmy having a secret life. He has always been so absolutely predictable and boring that it gives me shivers to think he might actually have another side to him that I haven't seen yet."
"For heaven's sake, Leeanne. We're talking about Jimmy and another woman. That can't be exciting to you."
"Well, it is. Sue me," Leeanne said, her bright lips turning into a pout. "Here I am at my sexual peak, married to a man who prefers sleep over sex. That could all change if I find out this woman is his child from a secret affair. Why, he'd have to do whatever I want to keep me from leaving him. You know he couldn't stand a divorce. Why, it would shatter his reputation."
"Not as much as an illegitimate daughter. I think we should play dumb, not talk to this woman at all. We'll tell our friends not to talk to her. She'll get so exasperated, she'll have to leave, and we can get back to our normal lives."
"Are you sure your normal life is really all you want?" Leeanne asked. "Because frankly, I want more."
"I don't want to find out Katherine Whitfield is J.T.'s daughter. It would ruin what's left of my life." She looked into Leeanne's eyes. "And it would ruin yours, too. Don't let yourself think otherwise. Boring is better than devastated, believe me. I'm leaving right now, and I think you should, too."
"You can't. There she is." Leeanne got to her feet and called out, "Miss Whitfield, oh, Miss Whitfield."
Chapter Thirteen
Katherine stopped abruptly. Off to the right she saw two women in the lobby bar. One, wearing a ridiculously large hat, was waving to her with a smile as if they knew each other. Katherine hesitated, suddenly realized the redhead had been in Jimmy Callaway's office. She didn't recognize the blond woman, nor did she look particularly welcoming, but Katherine could hardly walk away without appearing incredibly rude.
"Hello," she said as she joined them. "Can I help you?"
The redhead stood up, extending her hand, heavy with rings on almost every finger and bright red polish on the nails. "We weren't introduced the other day. I'm Leeanne Callaway. Jimmy Callaway's wife."
His wife? Katherine had thought she'd interrupted a man entertaining his lover; their behavior had been so strange. And Leeanne had been wearing a trench coat, for goodness sakes. Apparently the mild-mannered Jimmy Callaway had a wild side.
"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Callaway."
"And this is Mary Jo Baker, J.T.'s wife."
Mary Jo rose, obviously reluctantly. "Hello."
"Hello." Katherine felt even more awkward upon learning the identity of the other woman. She couldn't believe she'd just stumbled upon the wives of the two men she'd suspected of being her father.
"I'm sorry for what my husband did, throwing his drink at you," Mary Jo murmured. "I hope you'll let me know if there is anything I can do."
"It was just an accident. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Won't you sit down and join us for tea?" Leeanne asked.
While her sweet southern drawl dripped with honey, Katherine had the distinct feeling she needed to be wary. She also needed answers, and maybe these two women could help her. "All right."
As she joined them at the table, the waiter immediately appeared with an extra cup and saucer. "Can I get you anything else?" he asked.
She shook her head. "No, thank you."
"Now then, Jimmy tells me you're searching for your father," Leeanne said. "Or is it your mother? He wasn't too clear."
She'd thought the men in Paradise were a handful, but Leeanne Callaway seemed far more dangerous with her soft voice and sharp eyes. Katherine took a sip of tea, stalling for time.
"I believe my mother lived here or visited frequently in the early seventies," Katherine explained, setting down her cup. "When I was at Golden's, Justin told me he thought there might have been a woman named Evie in a photograph with your husband."
"Evie? That was your mother's name?" Leeanne asked.
"Actually, her name was Evelyn. But there was a photograph of Jimmy with a girl named Evie, and Justin thought the connection might be close."
"So you think Jimmy is your father?" Leeanne let the question linger in the air like an unwanted puff of smoke.
"No, no, of course not," Katherine said hastily. Although the thought had certainly crossed her mind. "I didn't mean to imply that. I just thought he might have remembered my mother, and if that were the case, then he might also know my father."
"What was your mother's last name?" Mary Jo asked, suddenly entering the conversation.
"Jones. Evelyn Jones."
"I don't think we know anyone by that name," Leeanne said. "Do we, Mary Jo?"
"No," Mary Jo said shortly.
"What about your father? What was his name?" Leeanne asked.
"All I have is a first initial. J."
"Like Jimmy," Leeanne said carefully. "I can see how your mind crossed that bridge. But for Jimmy to have been your father -- you're how old?"
"Twenty-seven."
"Well, if that's the case, Jimmy would have had to be unfaithful to me just before our marriage."
"J is a common initial," Katherine replied. "As I said, I don't have much to go on."
"Nothing else?"
"A few mementos, cocktail napkins, matchbooks, that sort of thing." Katherine took another sip of tea, wondering if she could escape. While Jimmy Callaway hadn't seemed like a bad father, she found the idea of being tied to Leeanne Callaway far less appealing.
"My husband's name is John Thomas," Mary Jo said unexpectedly, drawing Katherine's attention to her. "Most people call him J.T. I suppose that would qualify as a J, too."
Mary Jo's voice was filled with dismay, worry, disappointment. Katherine didn't know what to say, how to react. She'd told Zach she hadn't come to Paradise to hurt anyone, but she had the sudden feeling th
at she could hurt this woman.
"I guess it would qualify," Katherine said slowly. "But I'm sure my father is not either of your husbands."
"You can't be sure," Leeanne said pointedly. "Because you don't know."
"Well, your husband did deny knowing my mother. I have no reason not to believe him." She watched Leeanne closely, wondering if Jimmy's wife had more reason to disbelieve him than Katherine did.
"He's a very truthful man," Leeanne said. "At least, that's what I've always thought."
"Perhaps you're searching in the wrong place entirely," Mary Jo said. "Paradise is a small town, made up of families who have been here for generations. We all know each other. We all trust each other. It's hard to believe someone would be harboring such a secret."
It was a somewhat desperate speech, Katherine thought, noting how close Leeanne and Mary Jo had drawn together, their shoulders practically touching. They were drawing a line between them and her, pointing out, just as Zach had done, how unwelcome she was in Paradise, questioning their men, threatening their lives.
"You know, I was just on my way up to my room to make a phone call." Katherine stood up, and Leeanne jumped up along with her.
"Now, don't rush off, Miss Whitfield. I know Mary Jo didn't sound too helpful." She sent her friend a pointed look. "But as she said, we've lived here all our lives. Perhaps we can help you. Are you sure you don't know anything else about your father?"
"Not really, no, although I did find a cuff link.”
"What did it look like?"
"Black and gold with a horse on it."
"How interesting." Leeanne's gaze fastened on Katherine's face in a way that made Katherine want to run for the elevator. "You do remind me of someone, but I can't think who. Mary Jo?"
Mary Jo looked up from the napkin she was twisting and studied Katherine's face. "Someone," she murmured.
"I think I just have that kind of face," Katherine said, unnerved by their scrutiny.
"It's a pity your mother never told you about your father," Leeanne mused. "I wonder why that was."
"She died when I was young. We never had a chance to have that conversation."
Both women murmured appropriate apologetic responses, but neither one seemed sincere. "I should go," Katherine said.
Almost Home Page 14
