The Taming of Billy Jones

by Christine Rimmer

  "I really think the foundation is the place for her."

  "Fine."

  "I'm sure, if I call, they can find a job for her."

  "All right, then. The Needy Children's Fund it is. And tomorrow, we will all – you, me, her and Jesse – go over to her house and see that she gets packed up."

  "Yes. That would be helpful to her, I'm sure."

  Billy smiled. Prue looked good standing there, with the bed behind her. She'd look even better in the bed. But all in good time. "Prue, you're getting so agreeable all of a sudden."

  "Well, it is time that Sharlee moved on."

  "Amen," he said on a breath. "Let's go tell her what we have planned for her."

  * * *

  "I'd rather work at Bad Billy's, I think," Sharlee said.

  Prue looked a little hurt. "Why is that?"

  "Well, no offense, Prudence, but the foundation thing seems pretty dry."

  "Dry?"

  "Yes. It sounds like serious work. Meaningful work, you know?"

  "But you told me you felt you needed to find meaning in your life."

  "Yeah, but later. Right now, after all I've been through, I need a little fun. I've been to Bad Billy's once or twice a couple of years ago, when I first turned twenty-one. It was hot. The waitresses wear sequins, right? And cowboy boots."

  "You bet," Billy replied.

  "Oh, yeah," Sharlee declared. "A job at Bad Billy's is just what I need right now."

  Billy glanced at Prue. She shrugged. He smiled at Sharlee. "Alexis – that's the manager – said you could start Tuesday, so we'll have to get you packed up and on your way."

  "Fine, fine. Good bands play there, too. I might meet a drummer or a bass player who needs a special lady to make his life complete. It's a whole new start. Thank you, thank you. You've given me hope and the will to go on…"

  * * *

  Chapter 13

  « ^ »

  Sharlee left for Van Nuys two days later, pulling a rented trailer behind her car. "Thank you, thank you. I'll never forget you," she called out the window as she drove away.

  "And Alexis will probably never forgive me," Prudence heard Billy mutter under his breath as they stood waving goodbye on the sidewalk in front of the little house Sharlee had rented.

  "Bye, bye, bye!" Jesse called and began toddling off down the street after the retreating car.

  Laughing, Prudence went to catch him. "Come back here. Sharlee's the one who's leaving, not us." She captured Jesse's hand and turned him in the right direction. As she did, she glanced toward Nellie's house. Sure enough, Nellie stood in the front window, peering through a gap in the curtains.

  Billy chuckled. "Wave to her." He lifted his hand.

  Jesse cheerfully imitated his father, flapping his hand at the woman in the window. "Bye, bye, bye!"

  Nellie jumped back and the curtain dropped shut. By then, the car and trailer had disappeared beyond the intersection of Rambling Lane

  . Billy took Jesse's hand. "Come on. Let's go home."

  Jesse went along willingly, chanting, "Home, home, home."

  * * *

  Soon after they returned to the house, Prudence walked across the street to church. Nellie caught her on the steps right after the service.

  "Oh, my dear. How are you holding up? I heard Billy brought that troubled young woman to stay in your house. I was there, you know, when he abducted her."

  "Excuse me?"

  "I was there, the night he forced her into his car and—"

  "Billy did not force anything on Sharlee. She was very upset and he didn't want her to be alone. So he brought her to my house."

  "I'm sure he told you that."

  "Nellie, that was how it happened."

  "Whatever you want to believe, my dear. I heard she was leaving town, though."

  "I thought you saw her leaving, Nellie."

  "Yes, well. I like to know what's going on with my neighbors."

  "I noticed."

  "And I must say, it's good that girl is gone. Nothing but a home-wrecker, that one." Nellie shook her head, then put on a sugary smile. "And where is the little one?"

  "Home. With his father."

  Nellie's head went back and forth some more. "Oh, my dear. No. No. You really must not leave that child alone with that man."

  "Jesse is just fine with Billy."

  "How do you know that?"

  "He adores his father."

  "The child has told you this?"

  "Nellie, I know Jesse. I would see if there was something wrong."

  Nellie leaned closer. "How can you be sure what goes on when you're not there? You might think that little boy is fine now. But the emotional scars of childhood run deep. If you're leaving him alone with that man too much, he could be damaged for life."

  "I happen to disagree with you, Nellie."

  "I'm sorry you're so sadly misled."

  That did it. "Nellie, I have had enough."

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "I happen to think Billy Jones is a fine father. And if you don't think so, then you can just … keep it to yourself." Prudence realized she must have raised her voice a notch. The people nearby had stopped talking to glance her way.

  "Oh, my dear." Nellie's thin, veined hand flew to her throat. "It's happening. It's happening to you."

  "What is happening?"

  "He's after you. I'm so sorry. You'll end up just like all the other Jones women."

  Prudence had the urge to argue, No, I won't. The other Jones women are married. And Billy Jones is never going to marry anyone. But that would only serve to move the conversation along from bad to worse. So all she said was, "He's not after me," which felt like a flat lie, considering the things he had said to her the night before he brought Sharlee home.

  Nellie kept on shaking her head. "Oh, my dear, my dear…"

  Right then Evie Riggins emerged through the open church door behind them. "Nellie, there you are. Reverend Johnson wants to speak with you – something about the Christmas Carnival, I believe."

  "Oh, yes. Yes, of course. Isn't it just impossible, that the holidays are nearly upon us again already? I'm coming. Right now." She patted Prudence's arm. "At least think about what I've said." She turned and hurried back inside before Prudence could muster a suitably scathing reply.

  Once the older woman was gone, Evie leaned close to Prudence. "Don't mind Nellie. She can be nosy and narrow-minded – but she's got a good heart, underneath."

  Prudence shook her head. "She just won't let up on me."

  "Because she likes you."

  "Well, that makes a lot of sense."

  "It's true. She likes you very much. And she doesn't like Billy."

  "There is nothing between me and Billy," Prudence insisted, too strongly by half.

  Evie's smile was gentle. "I'll talk to her."

  "Will it do any good?"

  "Who can say? But I'm willing to give it a try."

  A moment later, Evie's husband came to find her. Prudence headed home. As she let herself in, the phone was ringing.

  Billy called from the kitchen, "That you, Prue?"

  "It's me."

  "You want me to get the phone?"

  "No, I've got it." She picked up the cordless extension from the side table near the television.

  It was Sam Fletcher. He greeted Prudence with a glum, "How you doin'?" and then asked if Billy was there.

  Prudence started through the dining room. "He's feeding Jesse, I think. Just a minute."

  "It's all right. I guess I can talk to you."

  She paused in the doorway to the kitchen. Sure enough, Billy had Jesse in the high chair and was pouring Cheerios on the tray for him. Billy flashed her a smile.

  Sam went on, "It's about Thanksgiving. Remember? Lilah invited you to our place?"

  "Yes, it was so nice of her." The first day Prudence and Jesse had arrived in town, Delilah had paid them a visit She said she'd come to welcome them to North Magdalene – and to invite them t
o the big Thanksgiving dinner party she was planning. "The whole family's coming," Delilah had announced. "Every Jones – husbands, wives and kids – for miles around. I hope you can make it."

  Prudence had promised that she would.

  Now, Sam was muttering, "Well, I'm still having it." He sounded defiant. Prudence didn't quite dare to ask if Delilah would be there, too. "Will you still come?"

  The event sounded potentially disastrous. "I, well…"

  "Look. Please come."

  He sounded so weary – and yet so determined. She didn't have the heart to turn him down. "Sure. All right."

  "Great. Billy, too."

  "Just a minute. I'll ask him." She tucked the phone beneath her chin. "It's Sam. He wants you and me and Jesse to come to his place for Thanksgiving."

  Billy lifted an eyebrow at her. She gave him a shrug. He nodded then. "Count me in."

  She spoke into the phone again. "We'll all be there."

  "Thanks."

  "What time?"

  "Say around two."

  "Good enough. What can we bring?"

  "What's the matter? Don't you think I can cook?" His voice was teasing – but with an edge.

  "Sam. If you want to do it all, that's just great with me."

  "Good. Just come. That's all I ask."

  "We will." Discussion of the celebration brought Oggie to mind. Prudence hadn't heard a word about him since he'd supposedly left town after the incident at the Hole in the Wall six days before. She asked Sam, "Have you heard anything from Oggie?"

  A silence, then Sam admitted grudgingly. "I heard he was in Phoenix. With Nevada – that's one of Evie's sisters. He stayed there a few days, I think. And then he took off again."

  "Do you know where he went next?"

  "Haven't a clue."

  "I hope he's all right." Prudence recalled Oggie's lined face, the way he leaned on that cane of his and sometimes winced when he walked. Once, in the nursery at the mansion, he had been sitting in the rocker, holding Jesse on his knee. Prudence had stood over him and looked down at the bald, age-spotted crown of his head. He'd seemed, at that moment, so frail to her. Someone infinitely vulnerable, though he'd never for the life of him have let anyone else know.

  She told Sam, "I don't like this. He's not young, you know."

  Sam let out a low laugh. "No, but he's tough as old boots. Don't you worry about Oggie Jones. He's fine. He's always fine."

  "Maybe he'll be back for your Thanksgiving party."

  "Right. Maybe. Listen, I gotta go. Lots of calls to make, to get the word out."

  After Prudence hung up, she turned to find Billy watching her. "So Sam's giving a party," he said. "You think Delilah will come?"

  "I guess we'll find out on Thanksgiving."

  He frowned. "Some problem with the old man?"

  "Pawbem?" Jesse stuffed a handful of cereal into his mouth and looked at her with the same curious, concerned expression his father wore.

  Prudence stared at the two of them, thinking that the life she led with them now felt very much like the kind of life a family might share. But it wasn't, of course. It was only a temporary situation. She really must keep remembering that.

  "Prue? Did you hear me?"

  "Yes. Yes, I heard." She picked up the cereal box, closed the waxed paper liner and secured the cardboard flap on top. "And no, nothing's wrong with Oggie that I know of. He went to visit Nevada – that's Evie's sister, in Phoenix. He left there a few days ago. Sam hadn't heard where he went after that." She took the box back to the cereal cabinet and put it away.

  Billy came up behind her before she had a chance to turn around again. He put his hands on her shoulders and spoke softly, close to her ear. "Hey, Prue, feelin' blue?"

  She should have jerked away, she knew it. Jerked away and told him in no uncertain terms to keep his hands off. But she didn't. His silly little rhyme of "Prue" and "blue" charmed her. And those hands of his felt good. He was standing very close behind her. She could feel his body's warmth, a warmth that seemed to communicate comfort and understanding and someone to lean against when things got rough.

  Prudence did not consider herself a person who leaned. And bad Billy Jones was hardly a man suitable for leaning on. But still, there he was. Rubbing her shoulders gently, easing the tension away, making her feel better just by being there – coaxing her, without saying a word, to go ahead and lean.

  Prudence leaned. With a sigh.

  Billy murmured in her ear, "Come on, what's wrong?"

  "I guess I'm just worried about him."

  "About Oggie?"

  "Mmm-hmm. I just … I hope he's okay." And Nellie Anderson thinks you're a terrible man who is up to no good. And, for the most part, I used to agree with her. But I just don't anymore…

  Billy chuckled, a warm, low, pleasingly rough sound that vibrated all through her, since he was so close. "The old man is fine. He's Oggie Jones."

  She sighed again. "That's pretty much what Sam said."

  "Listen to Sam." He slid his hands down, eased them under her arms and clasped them around her waist.

  It felt good to have his arms around her. It felt right.

  Just as it must have felt good and right to Randi. And the legion of other women bad Billy Jones had known.

  Prudence put her hands on Billy's hands and gently broke his hold. Without a murmur of protest, he stepped back and dropped his arms away.

  She turned to face him, thinking she should say something to acknowledge and perhaps clarify the nature of the moment that had just occurred. The problem was, she couldn't decide what to say about it.

  And then she discovered that no words were required. Billy had already turned away himself "How 'bout some milk?" he was asking Jesse.

  Jesse pounded his little fists on the tray. "Yeah, yeah. Meeook, meeook!" Cheerios flew.

  "Next up," Billy announced as he opened the refrigerator, "a few lessons in table manners."

  "Man-ners. Man-ners. Meeook. Meeook." Prudence leaned against the counter and watched Billy get the milk, fill Jesse's safety cup and hand it to the child. Finally he turned to her again.

  "You're staring, Prue."

  "Yes. Perhaps so."

  "Something you want to say?"

  She considered, then shook her head. With a shrug, he returned his attention to his son.

  * * *

  That night, once Jesse had been tucked in his bed, Billy sought her out again. He came down the stairs and he lounged there in the arch to the living room, the way he had done a number of nights before.

  "Sixty Minutes" was just ending. Prudence picked up the remote and turned the television off.

  They regarded each other across the width of the room. She knew what he would say before he said it: "Too quiet."

  He went over to the stereo and put several CDs into the cartridge. She sat there on the sofa, feeling content, watching him choose the discs he wanted and shake his head over others that didn't quite make the cut. Finally he put the cartridge in place. Then he turned the music on.

  He chose the easy chair nearest her end of the sofa.

  She watched him approach, watched him lower his lean body to the cushions and stretch out his legs, wondering the whole time where her instinct for self-preservation had gone. She wanted to drum up a little fire and fight, say something quelling that would send him on his way.

  But then again, she had a problem: she didn't want him to go.

  Perhaps, during the days Sharlee had stayed with them, she'd become too complaisant. After all, with Sharlee around, they were never really alone. The girl could pop in on them at any moment, eager to discuss her poor, battered heart and what she should do with her life.

  Tonight however, Sharlee wouldn't be popping in.

  "You look sort of friendly tonight, Prue." Billy spoke low and teasingly.

  She tried to summon a crisp response, but couldn't come up with a thing beyond a shrug and a smile.

  "You're gonna talk to me, right? You're
gonna tell me things."

  She leaned on the arm of the sofa, toward him. "What things?"

  "About you."

  She felt a sort of shimmer all through her body, a ripple of sensation that might have been unease – or anticipation.

  Oh, this was bad. And delicious. And lovely. For a moment, she had to look away, toward the fireplace, where a fire danced behind the glass of the fireplace insert

  Billy said her name, softly.

  She met his eyes again and challenged, "I have an idea. Why don't we talk about you instead?"

  He let out a low laugh. "Me? I know about me."

  "But I don't."

  "You know enough."

  "Come on, Billy. You had your turn quizzing me about my life. Fair is fair."

  He shifted around, sat up straighter for a moment, then slumped into the cushions again, stretching his booted feet out once more, crossing them at the ankle, and then proceeding to stare at them. "All right. What do you want to know?"

  She wasn't prepared for him to give in quite yet, so she had to think for a moment before she asked, "Well, how about your marriages – there were two of them, right?"

  He stopped communing with his boots long enough to shoot her a look from under his eyebrows. "Two. Right."

  "Is this difficult for you?"

  "I can take it. What else?"

  "Well, tell me about them."

  "About my marriages?"

  She gave him a patient look. "Yes."

  He sank farther down into the chair, and studied his boots even more intently than before. "Not much to tell. I married the first one, Serena, one night after a big party. Somehow, we ended up in Reno and I woke up wearing a wedding band. That lasted a year. My second wife, Lisbeth, said she was going to marry me the day that she met me. I said I wasn't a man any woman should marry. But she was relentless. She got to me one night." He shot her a grin. "You guessed it. After a big party. It was a party that started in Malibu."

  "And the next morning—?"

  "I woke up in Vegas. Married again. That only lasted six months."

  Prudence really wanted to understand how he could have done such foolish things. "You probably had a terrible childhood, didn't you?"

  He shook his head. "There was nothing wrong with my childhood. I was never abused. Unless you consider being bored to death abuse. My folks were too quiet and too religious. That was all that was wrong with them. All the dumb mistakes I made in life, I did all by my lonesome."