Читать книгу Once Forbidden... - Carla Cassidy - Страница 8

“Johnna was running late. Susan Boskow’s shoplifting trial had ended at five. The accused had received a sentence of probation and the promise that in the future if she found herself unable to feed her children, she’d reach out to the variety of agencies available for help.

Johnna’s brother’s wedding was set to take place at five, and she hurried from the courthouse, running down the street toward the tiny Methodist Church where Mark Delaney and his intended bride had chosen to be married.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said as she flew into the small sanctuary where her brothers all stood, looking hopelessly ill at ease and out of place.

“You aren’t late—the bride-to-be is,” Luke said, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “She probably came to her senses and decided marrying Mark was a big mistake.”

Mark looked stricken and Matthew frowned irritably. “Knock it off, Luke,” he said sternly. “Mark is nervous enough without your comments.”

The beginnings of a headache banged above Johnna’s right eye. “As usual, I see we’re acting like one big happy family,” she said irritably.

In the three months since their father’s death, the four siblings had already faced an enormous hurdle. Mark had been attacked and a ranch worker had been killed in order to protect an illegal-alien smuggling ring that had been operating from the ranch.

The guilty had been arrested, including the family lawyer, who had been the executor of their father’s will. A new lawyer had been retained, several ranch hands had been fired, and somehow in the middle of all the chaos, love had blossomed between Mark and April Cartwright, the woman who’d been hired as social director for the ranch.

The shared trauma had initially forged a fragile bond among the Delaney children as they united to fight an outside foe, but that bond was stretched thin as the need to unite passed and they were once again left to deal with one another without the tools necessary. They had not been taught how to interact with one another. A basic mistrust had been instilled in each of them, along with enough emotional baggage to last a lifetime.

God bless Adam Delaney. He’d been a shrewd businessman, one hell of a rancher, but he’d been a cold, mean-spirited man who’d taught his children nothing about love or family.

Mark looked as handsome as Johnna had ever seen him. He was clad in a black suit with a crisp white shirt. In fact, all her brothers looked exceptionally handsome without their trademark jeans and cowboy hats.

Mark eyed his watch worriedly, and at that moment April and her son, Brian, flew in. Mark’s eyes flamed with an intensity so bright, so hot, Johnna felt the burn in the pit of her stomach.

Would a man ever look at her with such tenderness, such longing? A wistful yearning pierced her. Mark wore his love for April on his features—in the shine of his eyes and the curve of his lips.

Jerrod once looked at me that way. The thought snaked its way into her head and she shoved it away, knowing it was a false memory. She’d only believed that was the way Jerrod had looked at her. But it had all been a lie.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” April said, looking lovely in a beige linen suit that emphasized her blond coloring. She smiled and took Mark’s hands in hers. “Brian lost his dress shoes,” she explained.

The eleven-year-old boy held out a foot, displaying his cowboy boots. “Those old shoes were too small, anyway. Besides, I told Mom you wouldn’t care if I wore my boots.”

Mark laughed, the worried lines that had creased his forehead gone. “I wouldn’t have cared if you showed up barefoot,” he said.

The church secretary stuck her head in the door that led to the small office. “Oh, good, I see you’re all ready.”

“All we need is the preacher man,” Luke replied.

“He’ll be right with you all,” she replied.

Before anyone could say another word, the office door opened and Jerrod McCain stepped out wearing a black minister’s robe.

For a moment Johnna thought this was some sort of dreadful joke. Seeing Jerrod in preacher robes was like seeing Santa Claus without his beard—it didn’t fit.

She’d had no time to gather her defenses, to steel herself for the assault of seeing him again. She hadn’t remembered his shoulders being quite so wide, his hair so rich and thick and his eyes such a piercing shade of blue.

She was suddenly aware of the run in her hose, the drab gray of her suit and the knowledge that her hair was probably standing on end.

As his gaze met hers, she raised her chin and refused to look away, hoping she conveyed a cool confidence and indifference that belied the tumultuous emotions racing inside her.

Finally he broke the gaze, moving to greet each of her brothers and the prospective bride. To Johnna’s relief, the ceremony began almost immediately.

As Jerrod spoke the words that would bind her brother and April together as husband and wife, Johnna tried to defend herself against the wave of memories that assailed her.

At one time she and Jerrod had talked of wedding vows and marriage. They’d spoken of forever and always, and for the very first time in Johnna’s life, she’d felt valued…wanted.

It hadn’t mattered that her father hated her, that he’d been bitterly disappointed that she hadn’t been another son. It hadn’t mattered that he had never forgiven her for surviving a difficult birth while his wife had died. None of it had mattered as long as Jerrod loved her.

Lies, she thought bitterly. All smoke and mirrors. No substance…no truth. Any love she might have entertained for Jerrod, despite the lies and betrayal, had died an irreversible death on the day she had buried Miranda.

She shoved these thoughts aside, refusing to go to the dark places in her soul where she mourned the baby girl she had lost. Although her brothers knew she’d lost a baby years ago, none of them had known the depth of her grief. She’d never shared that with anyone.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Jerrod said, his deep voice bringing Johnna firmly back to the present.

“And son,” Brian quipped, his face beaming with happiness.

Mark laughed and ruffled Brian’s hair. “And son,” he agreed.

“You gonna kiss the bride, or do I get to do it for you?” Luke asked.

Mark gathered April into his arms. “I think, dear brother, this is a job I can handle all by myself.”

As he kissed his new bride, Johnna was once again filled with a bittersweet wistfulness. She hardened herself against it, hating herself for entertaining any weakness or desire for anything remotely resembling love.

Fortunately, the congratulations were over quickly. Mark and April departed for a one-night stay at a bed-and-breakfast in town. Brian left with Matthew to return to the ranch, where he was spending the night with a friend.

Luke scurried out, probably in anticipation of a hot date, and Johnna headed for the door with him, unwilling to be left in the small church with Jerrod.

She needed time to think, and she headed to the place where she’d always done her best thinking. In the lobby of the courthouse, she stepped into the elevator and punched the button for the top floor.

When she reached that floor, she headed for the stairs that led up to the roof. She shoved open the door and stepped out, at the same time drawing in a deep breath of the hot arid air.

She walked over to the five-foot-high wall that surrounded the flat roof and peered out onto the streets of the small town.

The four-story courthouse was the tallest building in Inferno, and it was here on this very roof that fantasies had been spun and dreams had been dreamed.

There were many people who cursed the Inferno heat, but Johnna had always loved it. She shrugged out of her suit jacket, closed her eyes and allowed the hot air to embrace her.

Jerrod, a minister. How on earth had the man who she’d once believed had probably invented sin become a man of God? It simply didn’t compute.

“I thought I might find you here.”

She stiffened but didn’t move, refused to turn around to face him.

“You always loved it up here.”

She sensed his approach, knew when he stood just behind her, for his familiar, masculine fragrance seemed to wrap itself around her. “I still love it up here,” she said. “I’ve always considered this my own little piece of the world, and at the moment I consider you a trespasser.”

He was silent for a moment, then said, “I was once invited into your little piece of the world.”

“That was a long time ago.” She turned to face him. He’d shed his robe and now wore a pair of worn jeans and a white T-shirt that emphasized his bronzed skin and the sharp blue of his eyes.

“Yeah, it was a long time ago,” he agreed easily, and moved to stand next to her.

For a long moment they stood side by side, staring out over the ledge. Although she didn’t want to talk to him, she couldn’t help the curiosity that surged up inside her. When he had left Inferno, where had he gone? What had prompted him to become a minister? How had he made it through college?

“I guess congratulations are in order,” she finally said. “You’ve come a long way.”

“For trailer trash, I’ve done all right.”

Heat that had nothing to do with the outside temperature warmed her face as she remembered the hurtful words she’d flung at him the last time she’d seen him.

But she would not apologize. Instead, she sighed wearily. “Why did you follow me up here, Jerrod? What do you want from me?”

“Because I needed to talk to you, because I want you to reconsider your decision about Erin.”

She looked at him once again. “I can’t imagine why she would want me to represent her.”

“I can tell you why.” Again his gaze bore steadily into hers. “She told me if she can make you see she’s innocent, then she feels like she can convince everyone. She also knows you aren’t part of the good-old-boy network and that you’re a true advocate for your clients.”

“I’m glad she has such a fine opinion of me, but that doesn’t change my mind.”

“I would think that you’d jump at the opportunity to defend an innocent woman in a murder case. It’s what you talked about years ago when we’d sit up here and talk about our futures.”

But not Erin McCall. Her heart rebelled at the thought. Anyone but Erin, she thought. “She can probably afford any lawyer in the state.”

“She wants you.” He paused a moment and raked a hand through his thick dark hair. The gesture was instantly familiar as she remembered he’d always done that when battling frustration. “Is this about what happened nine years ago? Johnna, please don’t punish Erin for my mistakes.”

She looked away from him, hoping he couldn’t see how his words arrowed right to the heart of the matter. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed. “I got over what happened between us a long time ago.” She looked back at him and asked dryly, “Did you really believe that somehow I’d spent the last nine years holding a grudge and mourning?”

“No, but I thought perhaps there might have been times when you thought of me. I know there were times when I thought of you.”

His words seemed to burrow deep inside her and find the small place that held all her pain. Damn him. Damn him for coming back here.

“Look, I’ll talk to Erin,” she said. “Okay?” She just wanted Jerrod to leave, to go away and leave her alone. “I’ll make an appointment and meet with her first thing tomorrow morning. Understand, I’m not making any promises. I’m just agreeing to talk to her.”

“I appreciate it, Johnna.”

“Good, then our business is concluded and I’d like some time alone, if you don’t mind.” She turned back to stare down into the streets.

She relaxed only when she heard his footsteps receding, then the soft closing of the door that led off the roof. She’d lied. She had held a grudge for the past nine years. She’d never completely gotten over Jerrod’s betrayal.

She still mourned the loss of the dreams and fantasies they’d spun together in the blissful optimism of youth. There were moments in the long dark nights when she ached for the feel of his strong arms around her, his mouth pressed firmly to hers.

But she knew her loss had made her strong. Just like her painful childhood with her miserable father had made her strong. She neither wanted nor needed any man in her life. She was best alone…and alone was exactly how she intended to stay.

Jerrod might have forgiven himself for what he’d done to her years ago. God might have even forgiven him. But that didn’t mean she intended to. There were some things that were simply unforgivable.

Jerrod sat in the tiny lobby area of the Inferno police station, waiting for Johnna to show up for her 9 a.m. appointment with Erin Kramer.

“Sure you don’t want a cup of coffee?” Sheriff Jeffrey Broder asked from his desk in the corner.

“No, thanks, I’m fine,” Jerrod replied. He shifted positions on the wooden chair, his thoughts drifting back to his conversation with Johnna the evening before.

For trailer trash, I’ve done all right. He winced as he remembered saying the words. He’d sounded childish and petulant even to his own ears.

He’d believed he’d long ago worked through the baggage of that childhood label. But never had that name hurt more than when it had fallen from Johnna’s lips so many years ago. They had been words that had destroyed his illusions of her, of his place in this town, but most of all, they had destroyed the illusions he had of himself.

But he was no longer the rebellious trash that had blown out of town with a chip on his shoulder and rage burning in his soul. He was now a man at peace.

He’d found his true vocation and had gotten a college degree. At the moment, however, more than anything he was a man who didn’t want to see a dear childhood friend spend the rest of her life in prison for a crime he truly believed she wouldn’t, couldn’t commit.

He stood as Johnna swept in. He could tell by the narrowing of her eyes that she was not particularly happy to see him. Clad in a pair of tight jeans that emphasized her long, slender legs, and a biscuit-colored blouse that accentuated her dark hair and tanned face, she looked lovely, but tense.

“What are you doing here?” she asked with more than a little edge to her voice.

“I thought maybe I could help.”

“I don’t need help. I haven’t even agreed to do anything other than speak to her.” She nodded to Sheriff Broder. “Hi, Jeffrey.”

“Johnna,” he said as he rose from his desk. “Erin is our only prisoner at the moment, but I figured you’d be more comfortable in the conference room.”

“Thanks, Jeffrey. The conference room will be fine.” She looked back at Jerrod, her eyes an impenetrable smoke gray. “You’re here. I suppose you might as well come on back with me.” The invitation was not given graciously, but rather grudgingly.

Broder led them through the doors that led to the back of the police station and into a small conference room with a locked steel door. He opened the door and gestured them in. “I’ll be right back with Erin,” he said.

The door slammed shut behind him with a sickening thud that was all too familiar to Jerrod. He’d spent more than one night in the Inferno jail.

“I wonder what happened to old Sheriff Kiley?” he mused aloud.

“Last I heard, he’d retired to Florida and was spending his days playing golf.” Johnna opened her briefcase on the table in the center of the room and pulled out a pad and pencil. “Why?” She looked up at him. “What made you think of him?”

Jerrod walked over to the table and sat in the chair next to where she would be sitting. “I was just remembering how often in my wicked youth I heard one of those steel doors slam shut behind me.”

“Sheriff Kiley was just trying to keep you out of trouble by locking you up,” Johnna said.

Jerrod nodded, knowing she was right. He’d never been charged with anything, but occasionally he’d get in a foul mood, have a snoutful of beer and try to pick a fight. Kiley would keep him overnight until he’d sobered up or calmed down, then release him with a stern lecture.

The air in the tiny room was stuffy and, within seconds, filled with the scent of her. The scent of wildly blooming flowers with a hint of vanilla was the same fragrance she’d worn years before. To his surprise, it still had the power to stir him.

He stood and paced the room, amazed by how quickly he’d responded to her scent, and tried to dispel the memories that assaulted him. Memories of Johnna, warm and yielding in his arms. Johnna, eyes blazing flames of heat as she clung to him in breathless wonder.

Broder appeared at the door, Erin looking small and defenseless in front of him. He felt Johnna’s shock when she saw the black eye and swollen lip Erin sported. “Just bang on the door when you’re done,” the sheriff said, then closed the door and left the three of them alone.

“Thank you for coming,” Erin said to Johnna with as much dignity as possible in her current situation.

Johnna nodded and gestured the petite blond into a chair across from her at the table. “I hope Jerrod explained to you that I haven’t agreed to represent you yet.”

Johnna sat down as Erin did the same. As she began to ask background questions and make notes on the pad before her, Jerrod studied the two women who had played the most important roles in his life.

Erin—childhood friend, confidante and fellow dreamer. They had commiserated together, schemed together and, in one moment of sheer insanity, had effectively destroyed any hope Jerrod had of a future with Johnna.

He frowned and studied Johnna, seeing the changes the years had wrought. She was thinner than he remembered. And in his memories, her eyes had always been the soft gray of a predawn sky. As he had yesterday, he noticed no softness in those eyes now, rather a brittle hardness.

He wondered what life experiences had stolen the softness from her. He certainly wasn’t egotistical enough to believe that it had been his long-ago betrayal. In the years since he’d been gone, surely she’d had other lovers. Funny how that thought bothered him more than just a little bit. He frowned and focused on the conversation.

“Erin, I haven’t read any of the newspaper articles or listened to any news reports concerning your husband’s murder. I’ll need some background on your marriage…but let’s start with what happened the night of the murder.” Jerrod noticed that as Johnna spoke to Erin, she kept her gaze focused on the pad before her.

A muscle ticked just below Johnna’s right eye, a sign of tension Jerrod recognized from the past.

Erin sat back in her chair, tears welling up in eyes that looked as if they had already shed enough tears for a lifetime.

“It was Wednesday night. Richard had a business meeting and afterward he and some clients went out for a couple of drinks. By the time he got home around ten, he was drunk. And whenever he got drunk, he got mean.” She swiped at her eyes, as if finding her tears more a nuisance than anything. “He’d slapped me around a hundred times before, but this time was worse than ever.”

“Worse how?”

“Always before he’d been controlled with his beatings. He never hit me in the face and rarely where somebody might see bruises or cuts. But that night he was crazy.”

“What set him off?” Johnna finally looked at Erin, the tic beneath Johnna’s eye more pronounced.

“His navy-blue dress shirt.” Erin stared at the tabletop. “I accidentally washed it with a white towel and it got white lint all over it. I’d set it on the dryer and was going to wash it again, but he saw it that night and went ballistic.”

“He beat you often?” Johnna asked, and Jerrod realized the tic had vanished.

“He beat me whenever he drank. And Richard drank a lot.”

“Are there police reports, hospital records, anything to chronicle the previous instances of abuse?”

“There are some hospital records, but we always lied to the doctors.” She laughed bitterly. “You know, I stumbled down the stairs, I walked into a door…I was just clumsy and accident-prone. I don’t know about police reports. Richard’s best friend is…was Sam Clegg.”

“Deputy Clegg?” Johnna’s eyebrows rose.

Erin nodded. “When things got bad and I could manage it, I’d call Sam and he’d come over and calm Richard down, but I don’t know if he ever made any reports. A couple of other deputies showed up a few times, but they always just talked to Richard.”

Johnna’s pencil flew over the page of the legal pad as she scribbled note after note. Jerrod watched her intently, recognizing that, despite whatever reluctance she’d felt initially in meeting Erin, she was now completely caught up in the drama. She even seemed to have forgotten his presence.

Erin leaned forward and grabbed one of Johnna’s hands. Johnna sat up stiffly, as if unaccustomed to any sort of physical contact.

“Johnna, I know we’ve never been friends, that there was a time you had reason to hate my guts. But I swear to you, that night, the night of the murder, Richard hit me so hard he knocked me unconscious, and when I came to, he was dead. Somebody had bashed his head in, but it wasn’t me. I didn’t kill him. I swear I didn’t.” She released Johnna’s hand and again tears glimmered at her bruised and swollen eyes. “You’ve got to help me.”

Johnna stood and paced in front of the table. “Why me, Erin? Like you said, we’ve never been friends. Why would you want me to represent you?”

“Because Richard had powerful friends in this town, and I know you won’t play any games. Because I think if you agree to take my case, you’ll do everything in your ability to help me. I know you’re honorable, Johnna, and I trust your integrity.”

For a long moment Johnna stood staring at Erin, her forehead wrinkled with thought. She turned her head and gazed at Jerrod, and in the depths of her gray eyes, he saw a flash of vulnerability, a whisper of pain.

“Will you do it? Will you help me?” Erin asked softly. Johnna looked back at Erin, then nodded curtly and once again sat down across from her.

As the two women discussed the fee, Jerrod wondered why he had the strangest feeling that in helping one, the other might be healed.

Ridiculous, he scoffed inwardly. Erin needed help, but Johnna Delaney certainly didn’t need to be healed. Still, he couldn’t get that momentary flash of pain in her eyes out of his head.

In encouraging Johnna to represent Erin, he had either done a good thing or lit a fuse on a powder keg of emotions that might explode in all their faces. Only time would tell what the outcome would be.