by Hope Ramsay
Songs were not real life.
She needed to quit dreaming and concentrate on the real things in her life. Like getting out of Last Chance before she slept with Clay Rhodes a second time. Because sleeping with Clay would be a cosmic mistake.
Jane knew that. Clay knew that. End of story.
There was a bus to Columbia tomorrow morning at seven-thirty. She was going to be on that bus, and she didn’t care if Chief Rhodes viewed her departure as jumping bail. He’d learn soon enough that his theories about what happened in Lexington were all wrong.
Jane walked into the kitchen and snapped off the radio. She needed to concentrate on what she wanted out of life, not some fantasy. So she picked up a piece of notebook paper resting on the kitchen table and scanned the lyrics to “I Will Always Love You.”
She took several deep breaths and concentrated on relaxing the muscles in her neck and jaw. Then she reached for her “head voice” and worked on supporting it deep down in her diaphragm just the way her high-school music teacher had taught her.
She began singing a cappella. That was better. When she sang, she could keep her loneliness and her disappointment at bay and channel her deepest fears and desires and emotions into the song itself.
Clay was still trying to get Miriam’s words out of his head as he pulled his Windstar into a parking spot right in front of the Kountry Kitchen. He stepped out into a bright October day, but he had no energy to enjoy the weather. All he could think about was sleep. And since he had no intention of going home and getting caught in a cat fight between the hormonal Tricia and the desperate Ricki, he intended to nap on the couch in Pete’s office.
Clay was heading up the street toward the hardware store when he heard music, and it entered his ears, and knocked around his brain, and messed up his mind. He stood there planning to turn right and slip his key into the lock on the front door of the store, but instead he turned left and looked up at the open windows above the Cut ’n Curl.
The wind lifted the yellow gingham and carried the sound of Jane’s voice to him. Like a Siren of old, she beckoned him toward shipwreck. The sound pulled and tugged at him, reminding him that there was a bed in the apartment above the Cut ’n Curl, and, more important, a pair of arms that would hold him tight. He wanted to rest in the circle of Jane’s arms, like he’d rested against her last night.
Clay wanted to follow the music. But danger lay in that direction. Jane was trouble. Stone had made that pretty clear last night, and Clay already had too many things to worry about.
He forced himself to turn right and slipped his key into the hardware store’s lock. The wind blew, and the sound of Jane’s voice carried. He stopped and rested his head against the cool of the windowpane and listened. She had learned that song real well. Her phrasing was perfect. When she got to the words about how she wasn’t what he needed, he yanked the key out of the lock and turned around.
Shoot. Who said she wasn’t what he needed? He needed that girl like a starving man needed bread. He needed her in a way he’d never needed anyone in his life.
But he also cared about what had happened in that hotel room in Lexington. Something terrible happened there. He needed to know the truth.
He hurried across the street and took the fire escape steps two at a time. Then he stood there on the other side of the door listening to her sweet, sweet voice. Man oh man, she could sing. And when she sang, it was like the sound of angels.
He waited until she finished the song, and then he pounded on her door like a madman.
Jane nearly jumped out of her skin when someone pounded on the door. Her first fear was that Woody had found her, and then she saw Clayton P. Rhodes silhouetted against the shirred curtains. It was not a calming sight.
Jane opened the door a crack and peered out at him. He stood there on the landing looking like some cross between an ice cream sundae, something the cat dragged home, and the big bad wolf. She wanted to eat him up, open her arms and take care of him, and slam the door in his face and go cower in the bathroom.
“I’m sorry,” Clay muttered. “I… uh… heard you singing, and I…”
“Did you get any sleep last night?”
“Nope. Not one wink.”
“Were you able to rescue Ray, at least?” Jane asked, forcing the conversation in that direction just to remind herself where she stood in his list of priorities.
He shook his head. “Nope. I didn’t accomplish that, either. Ray confessed to the crime. His lawyers and the prosecutor are arguing now about which group home to send him to.” His voice wavered a little, and she watched the tendons work in his neck. He was at the end of his emotional rope. She tried not to empathize too much with him on that score.
She failed.
“But I know he didn’t steal that money,” Clay said in a grim voice. “I just need time to figure out how to prove he’s innocent.”
The man had complete faith in his friend. Her throat got tight thinking about that. What would it be like to have someone to watch her back like that?
And the sheer seduction of that thought made her firm her resolve. She needed Clay to back off. She needed to back off. Someone was going to get hurt, and Jane didn’t want to be the one. “I’m sorry, Clay, but—”
He put his hand on the door and pushed back on it, forcing her to step deeper into the room. “Here’s a news flash for you: For some reason I can’t explain, I believe in your innocence, too. Let me in.”
Jane pushed back on the door. “My innocence? Jeez, Clay, thanks. Last night you told me I was a mistake you were about to make, and now you think I’m innocent. You need to get your—”
“Listen to me, for once! I don’t believe you killed anyone in Lexington. I just want to know the truth. And then I want to crash on your couch. And after that, I have a long agenda of stuff that I want, starting with your body.”
“No,” Jane said, a wave of real fear washing through her. She pushed harder on the door, trying to push him out of her apartment—out of her life.
“No?” Clay pushed back. He gave her a boyish grin that melted a little piece of her heart. He was in flirt mode now. She hated him for turning on the charm like that.
“Letting you in would be a dumb idea,” Jane said.
“Why? After the kiss last night, I thought you were hot for me. I’m hot for you, Jane. I admit it. I’m weak.”
“You’re the one who said it would be a mistake. I concur.”
“Yeah. So why’d you chase me out into the alley last night? Why’d you bring ice for my hand? Why’d you kiss me back?”
“Temporary insanity.”
“Okay, you win. Let’s be friends.”
“Friends?”
“Uh-huh. Friends. You can tell me the truth, I’ll forgive you, and then I can crash on the couch.”
“Don’t you have a home to go to somewhere?”
“Yeah,” he said in a tired voice. “I’ve got two ex-girlfriends living at my house. My mother is not speaking to me because I broke Stone’s nose. That leaves either your couch or the lumpy sofa at the store. For obvious reasons, your couch sounds way more comfortable.”
Okay, she could resist this. “Gee thanks, Clay, you really know how to court a woman. And about those women. What are you going to do about Tricia?”
“I have no idea. She wants me to be her child’s daddy, seeing as the biological father is an a-hole. But, you know, it’s not my kid.”
“Well, that shouldn’t matter, if you love her.”
“Maybe not. But in this case, she’s in love with the jerk who got her pregnant, and that kind of ruins it for me, ya know? But she says I’m her best friend, and we should get married.”
“Gee, Clay, didn’t I hear from Ray that you had a list and were looking for a nice wife?”
“This is the man who thinks your name is April. You shouldn’t listen to him.”
The fact that Ray knew she had posed for those photos was precisely the reason she should listen to him. Ray mi
ght be a little weird, but he was smarter than people gave him credit for.
Jane inched her chin up. “I’ll listen to Ray if I want to. And I saw his list. It had all these women on it, and my score—or to be more precise April’s score—was low. I seem to have failed most of his tests.”
“Jeez. You saw that stupid list? Look, I’ve given up on that plan. It’s not working out.”
“No?” She pushed back but didn’t budge the door an inch.
“No, it’s not. I’ve decided to follow Miz Miriam’s plan instead.”
She went cold. “What did Miriam Randall tell you?”
“I take it from your tone of voice that you have learned all about Miriam and her predictions.”
“I have. The old lady told me I needed to hold out for a knight in shining armor, and you don’t look like one of those. So in a way, I’m following Miriam’s plan. She told me to ask for more and not to settle.”
“She told you that?”
“Yes, she did.” Jane pushed back on the door.
Clay met her resistance with relentless pressure of his own. He was going to get through this door. The only question was whether he was going to walk through it as her lover or her friend.
“Well,” he said, “Miriam told me that my soulmate would arrive on the nine-thirty bus from Atlanta. And that makes you a possible candidate for my soulmate. Miriam says this is all part of the Lord’s plan.”
“The Lord’s plan?” Her voice squeaked.
“Yes, ma’am. But if I understand Miriam correctly, she seems to think the Lord’s plan is the same as the Universe’s plan. Although I’m not entirely sure on the absolute theology of this, on account of the fact that I haven’t had that much sleep.”
“Miriam Randall told you that she understands about the Universe?” Jane let the door go, and Clay stepped right into the apartment and closed the door behind him.
Oh, crap, she’d let him in, and she wasn’t certain whether he’d come as a lover, or a friend, or some horny guy, or some honorable man bent on rescuing her.
“Well,” Clay said, looking down at her out of bleary eyes, “I don’t rightly know. But she is of the opinion that you haven’t fallen far from the Lord.”
The minute the words left Clay’s mouth he realized his mistake. Jane whirled away from him and made a beeline toward the bathroom. If she ever got to that door, she’d lock herself in, and he’d never get another opportunity to break down her barriers.
Of course, he wasn’t quite sure why the barriers had appeared. Last night, he could have sworn the woman was hot for him. But the temperature in this room was approaching absolute zero.
Oh, crap. He needed to face the fact that he had a crazy, mixed-up, reckless, and immaturely romantic urge to take care of Jane, and not because she was running from something ugly. Down deep he had this feeling—this crazy hope, really—that Jane might want to take care of him right back. And that crazy hope led him to the unfounded conclusion that if the two of them could get the taking-care-of-each-other thing down, nature would take care of everything else.
So Clay chased after her, and because he had longer legs, he caught up with her before she could reach the bathroom to lock herself in.
“Whoa, now,” Clay said as he grabbed her upper arm, making sure he didn’t grab it too tight, or too hard, or in any way that she might find threatening.
But grabbing Jane was kind of a threat, and she tried to escape his grasp. He had to use both hands on her shoulders and yank her around so that he stood between her and the bathroom door.
“No,” Clay said looking down into her face. “You don’t get to run away from me. Or lock yourself in the bathroom. Not after last night, you don’t.”
“Nothing happened last night, unless you count the fact that you told me I was a symptom of your midlife crisis.”
Shoot. He’d forgotten those stupid things he told her last night when he wanted to push her away. Instead, he had gotten swept up into a mind-blowing kiss that almost carried him right back to the Peach Blossom Motor Court.
Obviously, she hadn’t forgotten the stupid things he said. Women were like that. They had memories like steel traps.
“Look, I’m sorry about what I said last night, Jane. I didn’t—”
“Oh, yes, you did mean it. Now let me—”
“Okay, so maybe I did mean it… sort of… at the moment I said it. But that was then, and this is now, and…” He stopped speaking before he dug himself all the way to China.
“And what?” Jane demanded.
“Look, the last eighteen hours have been kinda rough on me, you know? I’m confused. I’m dazed. I’m sleepless. I said stuff last night to push you away, but I didn’t want to push you away. You should have realized that the moment I broke down and kissed you. Okay?”
Her shoulders relaxed a fraction, and he thought he’d better clear the air entirely. “And then I went off to the police station and talked to Stone. What he told me confused me some more. Jane, what happened in Lexington? I gotta know.”
Her shoulders stiffened again. Something real bad had happened in Kentucky. He was afraid of learning the truth.
“You gotta know?” she whispered and then let go of a bitter-sounding laugh. She looked up at the ceiling, purposefully avoiding his stare.
“Jane?” He gave her little shake.
She responded by trying to twist away from him. “It’s not important. The past isn’t important. Just leave me the hell alone, okay? I don’t gotta tell you anything, because we don’t have any kind of relationship unless you count one night at a no-tell motel.”
“No, I’m not going to leave you alone,” Clay said, softening his voice. He reached up and stroked her temple, her silky skin warm under the pad of his thumb. The touch ignited his libido. He wanted to be her friend, but his body kept pushing him the other way. He forced himself to think about the things Stone had said about the hotel in Kentucky. It helped, but not entirely.
“Darlin’, look at me,” Clay said.
Jane shook her head and closed her eyes.
“Darlin’, you can’t carry this alone.”
“Yes, I can,” she said in a strangled whisper.
“No, you can’t.”
“I told you. It’s not important.”
“Are you worried about what I might think?” he asked.
Jane opened her eyes and stared up at him. He’d hit the mark.
“Baby, I promise you,” Clay murmured, “I won’t think less of you if you let me share this burden.”
Jane made a little noise and then shook her head. “You can’t make that promise, Clay. You don’t know.”
“Did someone die in that room, girl? Tell me the truth.”
Her body tensed, and his heart sank. Someone had died in that room.
“Who, Jane? Who died?”
She said nothing. She hardly moved. It was like she had shut down or given up or something.
“Jane?”
She took in a deep breath and let it out. He could almost feel her marshaling her strength, and he found himself rooting her on.
“Innocence and Faith,” she said in a wobbly voice.
That threw him for a loop. “What happened, darlin’?”
Muscles tensed in her jaw as she fought against tears. She collapsed into his chest. She didn’t cry, though. She just let him hold her up, as if she was drawing strength from him.
It felt right to have her in his arms, and not just because she was a woman in need and he was a sucker for needy women. It felt like coming home. Like Miriam Randall knew what the hell she was doing sending him to her. Because hadn’t that old lady sent him here precisely to find out what Jane was running from? Like his holding Jane up was part of some plan the universe had set in motion.
But maybe Clay was getting carried away. He always got carried away. He needed to remember that someone had died in that hotel room, and Jane had been there when it happened.
“Jane? What happened in Lexi
ngton?”
She let go a shuddering breath. “I wanted to call her Faith.”
“Who?”
“The baby I lost in that room.”
His stomach clenched. Oh, Lord.
“How pregnant were you?” he asked. His voice sounded ragged to his own ears.
“Four months.”
“Jane, you didn’t—”
She pushed back and looked up at him with this ravaged look on her face. “I didn’t kill my baby. She was born too soon. And I don’t understand why the Universe let that happen.”
A rush of relief wrapped up in deep affection washed through him as he pulled her into his arms and made soft noises against her temple for a couple of minutes.
“Honey, I’m sorry about the baby—” he began.
“I told you I wanted to call her Faith,” she said emphatically.
She had named her lost child Faith. He didn’t want to delve too deep into the psychology of that.
“Darlin’, this is nothing to be ashamed of.”
“You don’t understand.” Jane pushed back and ran the palm of her hand over her cheek, knocking away tears she still refused to cry. “The point is I got myself into trouble and then I decided to run away with Joey instead of facing my parents with the truth, and because of me, Faith died, and Joey went to prison, and some guy up in Lexington is in a wheelchair for life. I’m bad news, Clay. I’m bad luck and bad karma, and Mrs. Randall is wrong. The Lord has never been on my side.”
Okay, Clay was confused now. He’d been working himself up to hearing about some heinous murder, and now she was talking about some guy in a wheelchair. “Baby, you want to slow down and try that one again, because I’m working on no sleep here and my brain’s not functional.”
“Look,” she said, turning around and putting her hands on her hips. “I got pregnant. I didn’t tell my folks because I was afraid my pa would beat the crap out of me for it, or maybe haul off and shoot Joey. Instead, I ran away with Joey. And when we got to Lexington, I started having cramps and that’s when Joey found out I was pregnant. He wasn’t happy to learn that. So he dropped me off at a sleazy motel and left me there. He said he was going to find a doctor. Only he didn’t come back. And the next morning… after I… lost the baby… I turned on the television, and I saw where the law had chased Joey down after he’d shot someone.”
