Country Roads (21 page)

“Since when am I Mr. Taggart to you, Lisa?”

Lisa smiled, her blue eyes sparkling. She was quite beautiful, and Julia felt a twinge of jealousy. “Since you’re the customer, and I’m the waitress.”

“Lisa, this is Julia Castillo. Julia, Lisa Miller. We went to school together from the third grade on and she married my old drinking buddy Louie.”

Julia relaxed at the word
married
. “Do you have any good stories about Paul?”

“You’d have to ask my husband,” Lisa said. “He and Paul were always getting called to the principal’s office, and I wanted nothing to do with them.” Lisa lifted her pad and pen. “No more fraternizing. Pretend I’m just a waitress you don’t know.”

“Is there anyone in this town he doesn’t know?” Julia asked.

Lisa smiled. “That’s why he has to pretend. Now how about a cocktail?”

“I think we’ll have champagne,” Paul said.

“Oh, one piece of good news, and I’ll get you our best bottle. Jimmy and Eric are going camping with us after all. Terri was willing to switch weekends.”

Paul picked up a spoon and began spinning it through his fingers. “Jimmy gave me the good news yesterday. Eric would have been really disappointed to miss the trip.”

“You’re invited too,” Lisa said. “We’ve got an extra tent.”

He shook his head with what looked like genuine regret. “Wish I could, but I’m committed to the theater auction.”

“That’s a shame. All the boys love it when you come.” Lisa flipped her ponytail back over her shoulder. “All right, no more chatting, I swear.”

After she left, Julia looked at Paul. “You go camping with your nephew?”

His eyes glowed with affection. “As often as I can. The last camping trip we took, he got sprayed by a skunk. He said it was the best weekend ever.”

“So you slept in a tent with him?” She couldn’t wrap her mind around the idea.

“Sure did. Which meant I nearly got sprayed by the skunk too. Eric snuck food into the tent, and the skunk decided he wanted to share. My nephew tried to protect his Doritos and I had to referee.”

She enjoyed her mental image of Paul, dressed only in a pair of gym shorts—since that’s what her stepbrothers always slept in—standing between a small boy clutching a bag of chips and a glowering skunk. “Sounds like you failed since Eric got sprayed.”

“I found out skunks don’t speak Latin.”

“Latin?”

“When I told the skunk the Doritos were not
bona vacantia
, and therefore he was committing a trespass
de bonis asportatis
, he didn’t grasp the concept.”

“I sympathize with the skunk.”

His grin glimmered in the candlelight. “The Doritos were not ownerless goods and he was committing larceny.”

“Seems to me he should have sprayed
you
.”

“He didn’t want to end up in court. Skunks are notoriously averse to litigation.”

Laughter bubbled up her throat. Being with Paul was better than drinking champagne. It felt as though she’d been living in twilight until she journeyed to Sanctuary and found him and her whisper horse.

She sobered at the thought of Darkside. “There’s something I need to tell you,” she said, fidgeting with one of the empty champagne flutes a busboy had placed on the table.

“You stole those paintings from another artist.”

“What! Of course I—oh, you’re joking.” She scowled at him. “This is serious.”

He slid the flute away from her restless fingers.

She lifted an eyebrow at him, since he was the worst offender when it came to twirling dishes. She spread her hands flat on the table. “Sharon was right. Darkside is definitely my whisper horse.”

Paul pressed his lips together.

Julia rushed to explain. “I know you think he’s dangerous and I’m just asking to be hurt, but it’s important for me to figure out why he’s in my paintings.”

He stared at the small fire guttering in the stone hearth before he brought his eyes back to her. “Do you know why Sharon owns Darkside?”

Julia shook her head.

“Because he put his previous owner in a wheelchair. They were going to destroy the horse, but Sharon—who is as certifiable as you are—offered to take him.”

“His old owner must have done something to make him behave that way.” Horror at the thought of her magnificent whisper horse being killed had her by the throat.

“He’s a killer, Julia.”

“No. I’ve looked in his eyes and there’s no darkness, just confusion.” She sat forward. “I can help him.”

A muscle in Paul’s jaw worked. “You have to do what you have to do.”

“So you understand.”

“No, but I’m not your uncle.”

She reached across to tuck her hand in his. “I don’t mind when
you
try to protect me. It’s kind of sexy.”

Julia heaved a sigh of relief as she saw a real smile tilt the corners of Paul’s lips. “You say the damnedest things.”

She had been expecting him to explode at any minute and had been mentally kicking herself for bringing up Darkside. However, it seemed likely he would find out from someone else, and she didn’t want Paul to think she had broken any promises.

Lisa interrupted their conversation to pour the champagne. As Paul raised his glass, his cell phone emitted a series of shrill rising notes.

“Not now,” he muttered.

The cell phone sounded again, the notes seeming faster and more urgent. He raked a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I have to take this call.” Standing, he walked toward an empty alcove of the small dining room with the phone to his ear. As he moved away, she heard him say, “Jimmy?”

He had reacted the minute he heard the ringtone, which meant it had to be someone with a powerful claim on him. Lisa had mentioned his brother, Jimmy, so Julia suspected he was the caller.

After a short conversation, Paul dropped the phone back in his pocket. When he turned, she could see tension in the set of his shoulders and the hard-etched lines of his face. “I’m sorry, but I have to take you back to the inn. There’s a family matter that needs dealing with now.” His face softened as he looked down at her. “This is not how I wanted our evening to end.”

“Is something wrong with your nephew?” she asked, putting her hand in his and letting him pull her to her feet.

“No, Eric’s with his mother this weekend, and she lives about a mile outside town, thank God.” He didn’t offer any further explanation.

“If there’s anything I can do to help, I’d like to.”

He cupped Julia’s face in his hands and leaned down to give her a tender kiss. “We have to go.”

As they drove back to the Traveller Inn, Julia noticed his white-knuckled grip on the wheel and the grim set of his mouth. There was no sign of Paul the affable ex-mayor or Paul the charming and passionate lover. This was a man she didn’t recognize, and she wished she knew how to call back one of his other selves, because this Paul made her understand how little she really knew him.

He pulled the ’Vette into the parking lot and started to get out. Julia opened her own door before he got around the car and
teetered up onto her high heels. “You don’t have to worry about me.” She stretched up to kiss him. “Go!”

He hesitated a moment before his mouth relaxed into a half smile. “Given the crime rate in Sanctuary, I guess you’ll be safe between here and the front door. I…we—” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. This wasn’t what I intended.” He lifted her hand to press a quick kiss on the palm. Then he strode back around the long hood and disappeared into the car’s interior. The headlights flashed once and the Corvette swept around the circular driveway and out onto the street.

She pulled her stole tighter around her shoulders and wondered about the demons Paul so carefully concealed.

Paul yanked the steering wheel left as an inebriated patron reeled out of Archie’s Bar and Games and into the parking lot. Nosing the ’Vette into an empty space, he got out and turned to brace his forearms on the car’s cool, hard roof, drawing in and releasing several deep breaths to control the anger and frustration boiling within him.

He kept seeing the bewildered expression on Julia’s face. He should have come up with some explanation for his abrupt departure, but he couldn’t bring himself to confess his brother was a hopeless drunk. He only had a week with her, and he wanted to keep all the ugliness away for that short period. Baffling her was better than soiling their time with the sordid truth.

Pushing himself away from the car, he straightened the lapels of his jacket before walking to the bar’s battered pine door and slamming it open.

The reek of smoke, the thumping bass of the electronic jukebox, and the cacophony of voices raised and slurred by alcohol smacked into him like a fist. This had been his bar of choice in
his youth since they accepted his fake ID without a blink. It was here he had honed his foosball game. Now the place made him feel old and tired.

He shouldered his way through the mix of teenagers and farmhands, nodding to the bartender as he approached. “Hey, Vince. Thanks for the phone call.”

“He’s in the office,” Vince said. “He gave me his cell phone to call you.”

Paul felt the anger start to build again. His brother had made certain he would come running. He pulled a fifty out of his wallet and held it out to the bartender.

Vince waved it away. “All I did was call you.”

Paul slid it across the scarred wooden counter. “Buy your wife a present.”

Vince looked at the bill before swiping it up and pocketing it.

Paul nodded and headed for the door that led behind the bar’s public rooms. Someone called out his name, but he didn’t bother even to lift a hand in greeting. It would be too tempting to start a good old-fashioned bar fight to vent his fury since he couldn’t take it out on his brother.

Two strides took him down the cracked brown linoleum of the hallway and to the office door. He turned the knob and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Jimmy lay sprawled and snoring on a brown-and-orange plaid couch whose springs sagged to the floor. Paul stood looking down at his brother, wondering how the cute, annoying kid who followed him everywhere had become an alcoholic who nearly lost the right to spend time with his own son.

He searched the slack face for signs of the younger brother he’d taught to swing a bat and drive a car, the nervous kid he’d driven to the movies for his first date, the cocky teenager who’d dreamed up some of their best pranks.

All the anger drained from his body, and he slumped into a threadbare red brocade chair beside his brother.

Jimmy might have set out to get Paul’s attention, but at least he had chosen a bar where he was least likely to be seen by people who would tell his ex-wife about it.

He reached out to give Jimmy’s shoulder a shake. His brother opened his bloodshot blue eyes and blinked at him. “Whah?”

“I’m here to take you home.” He stood.

“Paul?” Jimmy pushed himself upright and scrubbed his palms over his face. “What are you doing here?”

Irritation pulsed in his temples, but Paul kept his voice quiet. “You asked Vince to call me because you knew you shouldn’t drive home.”

“Oh yeah. Vince took my car keys away.” His words were indistinct around the edges. “I guess you’re pissed at me.”

Paul sighed and sat down again. “I thought you were going to your AA meetings.”

“I was. I am.” Jimmy’s shrug sent him listing sideways, and he had to grab the arm of the sofa to right himself. “It was just a bad night.”

“Why didn’t you call your sponsor? Adam would have helped you.”

Another shrug. “He’s busy at the Aerie on Saturdays.”

“He’s made it clear he’s available whenever you need him. He wouldn’t be your AA sponsor otherwise.” Paul knew his words fell on deaf ears, because Jimmy wouldn’t have called his sponsor if it had been noon on a Monday. His brother had done this to send a message to Paul: Jimmy needed him to stay here in Sanctuary. Any thoughts he had of leaving should be banished.

Tears slid down his brother’s cheeks. “I thought I’d have Eric this weekend, so I didn’t plan anything to keep my mind off it.” He swiped at his face. “I hear you’re dating that famous artist who came to see Claire Arbuckle.”

Surprised by his brother’s change in topic, Paul nodded.

“You always were a son of a gun with the ladies. So was I.” Jimmy shook his head sadly. “You were with her tonight, weren’t you?”

Knowing how many people had seen them at the 1827 House, Paul told the truth. “Yes.”

Jimmy slammed a fist on the couch. “First your job and now your love life. I’m screwing up everything for you. I’m a worthless son of a bitch.”

“Let’s go home.”

“You must hate me.”

This was familiar territory when Jimmy was drunk. “You’re my brother. I love you. Now let’s get out of here.”

Jimmy nodded and tried to push himself off the couch. Paul caught him as he staggered and hooked his brother’s arm around his neck to hold him up. Jimmy smelled like stale smoke, sweat, and booze. Paul thought of how Julia had smelled when he had held her earlier. He tried to summon the memory of her fragrance of fresh air and flowers into his nostrils, but it was too delicate to survive the contrast.

He walked Jimmy down the hall and out the back door. Before rounding the corner of the building to get to his car, he propped his brother against the wall and did a quick survey to make sure no one was there to see them. Jimmy had been doing so much better, and Paul really didn’t want Terri to get wind of this backslide.