Читать книгу Once Forbidden... - Carla Cassidy - Страница 7

“Johnna Delaney, you are out of order!” Judge Orin Wellsby bellowed as he banged his gavel to emphasize his irritation.

“And you are a cantankerous old goat,” Johnna muttered beneath her breath.

A white eyebrow rose and Judge Wellsby’s pale-blue eyes narrowed. “You are coming dangerously close to a contempt charge, Counselor.”

Johnna’s client, Susan Boskow, a twenty-two-year-old mother of three charged with shoplifting, frowned, obviously worried by the heated exchange between the judge and her defender.

Johnna was aware of Chet Maxwell, the overzealous, pompous prosecuting attorney grinning in smug delight.

She sighed and attempted to swallow her anger—along with the bitter taste of her pride. “I apologize, Your Honor. I guess I just got carried away with the zest of defending my client.”

Judge Wellsby, apparently mollified by her apology, banged his gavel once again. “Court is in recess until tomorrow afternoon at two o’clock.”

As the judge disappeared from the bench, Johnna said goodbye to Susan, then began shoving paperwork into her briefcase.

“Are you all right?”

Johnna looked up at the familiar voice. Kelly Linstrom, who worked as her secretary and receptionist in her law office, eyed her worriedly.

Slapping another bundle of paperwork into her briefcase, Johnna drew a deep breath to steady her anger. “That old coot should have retired ten years ago,” she exclaimed, her voice slightly unsteady. “He only sticks around so he can be a burr on my behind.”

Kelly grinned impishly. “I’m not sure who is the burr on whose behind.”

Johnna smiled tightly.

Kelly’s grin widened. “Hopefully you can finish this trial without spending any time in jail for contempt. Don’t you have your brother’s wedding to attend tomorrow afternoon?”

“Yes, although from what Mark told me, it’s just going to be a simple ceremony in the church down the street.”

“I’d settle for a simple ceremony if only somebody would ask me to marry him,” Kelly said ruefully. “I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Bright and early,” Johnna replied. As Kelly left the courtroom, Johnna snapped her briefcase closed, threw her empty coffee cup into a nearby trash bin, then turned to leave the courtroom. That was when she saw him.

He sat in the back row, the only person left in the room other than her. Shock riveted through Johnna as her mind worked to accept his presence here in Inferno, Arizona—here in this very courtroom.

“Hello, Johnna,” he said, and stood.

Her first impulse was to run, to shove past him and escape. The very sight of him, so tall—so damnably handsome—stirred old memories and deep emotions, memories and emotions she had firmly repressed for the past nine years and certainly didn’t want to remember or feel now.

“Hello, Jerrod.” She was pleased at the controlled cool tone of her voice. “I didn’t realize you were back in town.” Nice, civil, as if she was speaking to anyone she knew.

But this isn’t just anyone! her heart cried. This is Jerrod McCain, the man who had once owned her heart—when she’d had a heart to own.

He shrugged those impossibly broad shoulders, his blue gaze sweeping down her body, taking her in from head to toe. She felt his gaze as if it was the caress of his warm fingertips, and she stiffened defensively against the invisible assault. “I’ve been in town a little over a week. I’ve been staying out at my dad’s place.”

A week. He’d been in Inferno a whole week and she hadn’t felt his presence, hadn’t instinctively known he was near. Good. He was firmly and forever out of her life, out of her heart.

“Well, it’s nice to see you,” she said with what she thought was just the right touch of airy nonchalance. She headed for the door, but he stymied her escape by grabbing her arm.

“Johnna, wait. I need to talk to you.”

She didn’t want to talk to him. She didn’t even want to look at him. She’d hoped he’d never return to Inferno, that she’d never, ever have to see him or talk to him again.

She pulled her arm out of his grasp. “It’s been almost nine years, Jerrod. What on earth could you need to discuss with me?”

“Erin McCall.”

The name exploded in Johnna’s head—the name of the woman who’d stolen any hope for happiness that Johnna might once have had. The name sounded like blasphemy on his lips, and she flinched as if he’d physically hit her.

“I guess you’ve heard she was arrested two days ago for the murder of her husband?”

Johnna refused to meet his gaze. “I heard. But that has nothing to do with me.” How could she not have heard? The whole town of Inferno had been buzzing with the news of Richard Kramer’s murder.

She pushed past him and walked out of the court-room and into the lobby of the courthouse, aware of him following close behind.

“She wants you to represent her.”

Johnna whirled around to face him, her heart banging against her ribs. “That’s absurd!” she exclaimed. “Why on earth would she want me?”

“She asked me to speak to you,” he replied, not answering her question. He took a step closer to her, his blue eyes compelling her to acquiesce.

There had been a time when a single glance of those deep blue eyes with their thick dark lashes had been able to twist her inside out. But that had been another lifetime. They held no power over her now.

“You can tell her you spoke with me and my answer was no.” For the third time she turned and walked away from him, exiting the building and walking out into the stifling heat and relentless sunshine.

To her surprise, he didn’t follow. She walked to her car, got in, then drew a deep breath as the trauma of seeing him again fully infused her.

She’d thought she’d forgotten his irregular features, the thick dark hair and sensual lips, the nose with the small bump and his mesmerizing eyes. She’d tried to forget everything about him, but now her head was filled with the sum of him.

There had been a time when she would have driven a thousand miles just to catch his scent—that wildly masculine, clean fragrance that emanated from him. And there had been a time when she’d have done anything to taste his kiss, to know the heat of his mouth against hers.

There had been a time…a long time ago.

She started her car and pulled away from the curb, attempting to shove aside thoughts of him. Her hands trembled and her heart still beat an irregular rhythm.

She glanced at her wristwatch and realized if she hurried, she’d be able to make it to the ranch for dinner.

And after dinner she’d have to put in at least three hours of work—work that had nothing to do with her cases or chosen occupation, but rather work she’d been forced to endure by the terms of her father’s will.

Bitterness swept through her as she thought of her father and his last will and testament. Adam Delaney had died almost three months ago, leaving behind a fortune in the form of a successful dude ranch.

Unfortunately he’d stipulated that all four of his children must work the ranch for a year, and only then would they be free to sell the place and split the profits. If they defaulted, the ranch went to Clara Delaney, Adam’s spinster sister, whom none of the Delaney children could stand.

Johnna hadn’t wanted anything to do with the ranch, but she’d agreed to abide by the terms of the will for her three brothers’ sakes. Still, spending twenty-five hours a week working the ranch, in addition to her work as the only defense attorney in the small town of Inferno, was taxing her both physically and mentally.

And now Jerrod had entered the equation. He’d probably lied when he’d said he’d been back in town for a week. He’d probably heard about Erin’s arrest and ridden back into town to her rescue.

Where had he been all these years? Was he married? With children?

Nine years was a long time, and yet for just a moment, when she’d first seen him, the years had faded away, leaving the taste of fresh betrayal and bitterness in her mouth.

She’d always thought that eventually they’d see each other again, couldn’t believe that somebody who had been her world, somebody who had marked her life, her heart, in such a profound way, could just drift away, never to return.

In all her imaginings, she’d always been arrogantly smug about how well her life had turned out without him. She’d imagined him as a convict, a drunk, a man whose life had been filled with guilt and unhappiness.

But he hadn’t looked wasted or dissipated. He’d looked vital and strong, successful and self-assured. She hated him for not looking like a man who had suffered.

Why on earth would Erin McCall—now Erin Kramer—ask her to represent her? Erin had to know that Johnna would not entertain fond feelings for her, that the betrayal in their past would forever stand between them.

As she turned into the entrance of the Delaney Dude Ranch, she once again consciously pushed aside thoughts of Erin…and Jerrod. They belonged in her past and she’d decided long ago that she’d never allow anything or anyone the power to hurt her again.

He’d blown it. He’d waited nine years to come back to Inferno, nine years to see Johnna again, and he’d totally blown it.

Jerrod McCain pulled into the trailer park where he had lived for the first twenty years of his life. And miserable years they had been, he thought as he pulled up in front of the double-wide trailer his father still called home.

He cut his engine, but remained in the car. Within minutes the exterior grew stuffy with the fiery end-of-day heat. Cracking open his window to allow in what little breeze there was, he stared at the trailer.

Few pleasant memories were associated with his time here. He knew there were trailer parks in other areas of the country where life was good and family values prevailed, where lawns were neatly tended and children’s laughter rang in the air.

The Inferno Trailer Park was not such a place. Rather it had been, and continued to be, a den of iniquity, a dark place peopled with miserable souls, bad choices and the torment of hopelessness.

Reluctantly Jerrod left his car. Although he knew the interior of the trailer would smell of booze and stale cigarette smoke, he also knew the air conditioner would be a welcome relief from the heat.

“Ah, my saintly son has returned.” Jerrod’s father sat at the small burn-scarred kitchen table, a bottle of beer in front of him. From the look of his red-rimmed eyes and the slur of his words, it certainly wasn’t his first drink of the day.

“Have you eaten today, Pop?”

“Not hungry.” Mack McCain finished his beer and shoved the empty bottle aside. “Did you get all settled over at the church?”

Jerrod shrugged out of his suit jacket and grabbed a skillet from the cabinet. “Yeah, starting in two weeks, I’m ready to begin converting the sinners of Inferno every Sunday morning.” He withdrew a stick of butter and a carton of eggs from the refrigerator.

Mack leaned back in his chair and rubbed a hand across his grizzled jaw. “Still can’t believe it. My son—a preacher. Wonder what your ma would have made of it.” He frowned and stood unsteadily. “Think I’ll have me another beer.”

“Why don’t you have some eggs and toast with me, instead?”

Mack fell back into his chair. “I suppose I could eat a little.”

Dinner was a silent affair, and once again Jerrod’s thoughts returned to Johnna. Since coming back to town last week, he’d driven by her law office a dozen times, cruised by the small house where she lived just off Main Street, to catch a glimpse of her. He should have spoken to her then—before Erin had been arrested, before he needed Johnna.

There had been a time when Johnna Delaney had been his lamp, the shining beacon that had pierced the darkness that was his life. He’d been nineteen and she’d been eighteen, and neither had been prepared for the passion, the wealth of emotion that had exploded between them.

He shoved the thoughts away, not wanting to remember the Johnna of his youth—so soft and warm, so sweetly giving. She’d been needy, and so had he. It had been a need greater than mere sex, stronger than loneliness. For a while they had assuaged that need with each other, and for a while it had been wonderful.

He cleaned up the dinner dishes, then realized his father had fallen asleep—or passed out—in his easy chair. Some things never change, Jerrod thought as he helped his father from the chair to the bedroom.

His father had been a drunk since the day Jerrod’s mother had walked out on them. Jerrod had been seven, and he’d watched his father crawl into the bottom of a bottle and never crawl out.

He’d hoped things would change in the years he’d been gone. He’d written his father often, sent money on a regular basis and hoped the man would find the strength to build a life for himself. Instead, Mack had merely continued to mourn for a woman long gone and a love that hadn’t lasted.

“You shouldn’t have come back here, boy,” Mack muttered as Jerrod covered him with the sheet. “This place will suck the life from you. You should have stayed away.”

Jerrod started to reply, then realized Mack had fallen back asleep. He left the bedroom, fixed himself a glass of iced tea, then stepped out the front door and into the simmering evening air.

The old wicker chair on the porch gave a familiar creak as he sank into it. He sipped his tea, his gaze focused on the trailer across the way. At one time it had been where Erin McCall and her mother had lived. During the time Jerrod had been away, Erin had surprised everyone. She’d finally made her way out of the trailer park by marrying Richard Kramer, one of the most affluent businessmen in town.

Jerrod had received a wedding announcement from Erin, along with a chatty letter telling him she’d finally found happiness. And now she was facing life in prison for the murder of her husband. What on earth had happened?

He took a long swallow of his tea and smiled as a dusty old Ford pulled up in front of the place. He set his glass down on the porch and stood as an old man climbed out of the car.

“Uncle Cyrus.” He greeted the man with a warm embrace.

“I go away for a week and return to find my favorite nephew has finally come back home where he belongs.”

Jerrod motioned to the wicker chair across from where he’d been sitting. “Want something to drink? Some tea or lemonade?”

Cyrus shook his head and eased himself down into the chair. “Nah, I’m fine. How you doing, boy? You look good.”

“Thanks.”

“You seen Johnna Delaney yet?”

Jerrod laughed dryly. “You never were one to waste time or mince words, Uncle Cyrus.”

Cyrus McCain was the only person on earth who knew everything that had happened between Jerrod and Johnna so many years ago. It had been with Cyrus’s help that Jerrod had left the trailer park, Inferno and Johnna behind.

“I’m seventy years old, boy. I don’t have time to mince words.”

Jerrod leaned back in his chair and picked up his tea. “Yeah, I’ve seen her.” A vision of Johnna filled his mind.

For a moment he remembered her as he’d known her nine years ago. Then her hair had been long and thick and her eyes had been a soft ash-gray, which only hardened when she spoke of her father, Adam.

Today there had been no hint of softness about her. Her hair was almost boyishly short, and yet the style emphasized the sharp angles of her face, the fullness of her lower lip and the beauty of her eyes—eyes that no longer held any softness or vulnerability.

“She looks good,” he finally said.

Cyrus nodded. “She’s got that strong Delaney bone structure. I imagine she’ll always be quite an attractive woman.”

Jerrod frowned. “Have you heard about Erin?”

“I stopped in at the diner for some supper on my way back into town, and the whole place was buzzing with the news.” Cyrus shook his head. “Somebody should have seen that marriage was a train wreck waiting to happen. Everyone in town knew Richard beat the hell out of Erin on a regular basis. I suppose she just decided to give it right back to him.”

Jerrod took a sip of his now tepid tea. “She says she didn’t kill him.”

Cyrus raised a white eyebrow. “And I’m a fairy princess,” he said.

Jerrod ignored him. “I asked Johnna to defend Erin today.”

Cyrus stared at him in disbelief. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

“No, no kidding. Erin wants her.”

“Did she tell you to kiss her—”

“She told me no,” Jerrod said before Cyrus could finish.

“What did you expect her to say? You cheated on Johnna with Erin.”

Jerrod’s stomach knotted and a wave of guilt swept through him. Guilt that the years had done nothing to assuage. After years of soul-searching he’d thought he’d finally learned to forgive himself, but apparently it wasn’t total absolution. “That was a long time ago.”

“Matters of the heart don’t know nothin’ about time,” Cyrus observed. “Your dad is a perfect example of that. The wound is still as fresh today as it was that Saturday morning when your ma left him.”

“My father is a fool,” Jerrod said with a touch of harshness. “No woman is worth that kind of suffering.”

Cyrus said nothing. For a few moments the two men simply sat in comfortable silence. As Jerrod gazed at the man who was his father’s older brother, a burst of affection swept through him.

There had been many times when Jerrod had wondered what might have become of him if not for Cyrus’s presence in his life. It had been Cyrus who had listened to Jerrod’s tales of woe as he’d been growing up, Cyrus who had helped ease the absence of his mother. And Cyrus who had, on the night Jerrod had left Inferno, shoved a handful of money and a Dallas address into his pocket and told him to make something of himself.

And he had. Although the last thing he would have believed when he’d left Inferno so long ago was that he’d eventually become a minister, that was exactly what he’d become.

“I’d better get on home,” Cyrus said as he rose from the chair. “I’ve spent the better part of the day driving home from the cabin, and these old bones are telling me it’s time for a hot shower and my bed.”

Jerrod stood, as well, and walked his uncle to his car. Again the two men embraced. “Thanks, Uncle Cyrus.”

“For what?”

Jerrod smiled. “For everything.”

Cyrus waved his hands in dismissal of Jerrod’s gratitude. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said as he climbed into the car.

A moment later Jerrod watched the old Ford disappear from sight. He returned to the porch, watching as the night shadows claimed the last of the sun.

Again his thoughts turned to Johnna.

He had betrayed her nine years ago and he’d lived every day of the time since regretting it. But she had betrayed him, too.

She’d allowed him to believe it didn’t matter where he came from, that it didn’t matter that she was a have and he was a have-not. She’d told him she loved him, but her parting words to him had revealed the truth.

He couldn’t be certain of the forces that had brought him back to Inferno, but he steadfastly refused to believe one of those forces was any lingering feeling for Johnna Delaney.

The only thing he wanted from her was help for Erin. They had played at love once, but both of them had broken the rules. He didn’t intend to play the game with her again.