Her Perfect Match (14 page)

“You know they’re ashamed of me. I was stupid and vain to listen to Jason Lexington’s lies. It’s what they think. I know that’s what you’re thinking. It has to be.”

Because if it isn’t, if this doesn’t push you away, I don’t think I can give you up. And this terror inside me may destroy us both.

J
ackson held her away from him and tried to get a handle on his anger at her parents. What had they done to their child? Were they so selfish that her seemingly distorted interpretation was on the mark?

“I’m not thinking anything like that. And I can’t imagine they would, either. That’s a complete load of garbage, Beth.”

Her eyes lit with anger. “No, it isn’t. Don’t try to lie to me. I overheard my parents that night. They took a hundred thousand dollars for not pressing charges. My father said it was for damages but not those done to me. They’ve never even mentioned the money to me. It was for damage to
them!
He told my mother Jason would get away with it anyway if I pressed charges and then everyone would know about what I’d done. They wouldn’t be able to hold their heads up in public. He blamed me for putting them in such a bad position. They
were
ashamed of me.”

She lifted her head and held it at a defiant tilt. “So I left, just the way the duckling ran away from the pond. He found the wild geese who were kind of like outlaws but they were happy to have him with them. I found Cole. I wanted to embarrass them so badly they wouldn’t have been able go out of their house to spend their blood money or look their friends in the eye.”

“Oh, honey,” he sighed, afraid for the child she’d been. Jackson had heard stories of Cole’s destructive period after the death of his mother. He would have been exactly what she needed that night. A strange combination of safety and danger. “What happened?”

“Ross and Cole had argued because he was all bruised up and wouldn’t tell how it happened. He’d stormed off, furious that his father had assumed he’d been in trouble. Especially when he’d gotten hurt helping someone. Especially when he was keeping silent to keep Laurel Glen safe from Jason’s family, even though he thought it was wrong.

“Cole came upon a police car running on the side of the road, got in and simply drove it away. He was my outlaw that night—my wild goose. And just like with the duckling and the wild geese, the hunt was on. Only it was the police not the hunters after us. I started to get scared when we could hear their sirens getting close. That’s when Cole talked me into bailing out of the car and running home.”

Jackson’s estimation of his cousin rose even higher. He’d saved Beth not only from certain death at a rap
ist’s hands but also from the folly of her anger at her parents. And to this day he was still taking flack for that night. Yet he’d never given away her secret.

“That’s why you and Cole are so close. Right?”

“We are now. I never saw him again until he came back to Laurel Glen about a year and a half ago. I never forgot him, but I didn’t try to contact him in all the years he was away, either.”

“Why?” he asked, needing to understand this odd connection between his cousin and the woman Jackson had come to love. Not because he was in the least jealous anymore but because each piece he was able to fit together of the puzzle Beth was brought him that much closer to her.

“Why didn’t I try to contact him? Because I was a coward and because my memory of him was so connected to that day. I thought seeing him again, even writing to him, would force me to think about that day.”

“But you said you went to that Valentine’s dance with Jeff knowing Cole would be there.”

She nodded sadly. “I couldn’t have lived with myself if I’d been that much of a coward. He needed help, and it was my turn to save him.”

“Like you help the women at the center. And like you went to the Graystone Ball in case Cole and CJ needed protection from the Lexington women.”

“Cole is a target because of me.”

“You aren’t a coward, Beth.” Praying for restraint, he continued. “I assume Mrs. Lexington was related to Jason.”

“She’s his mother. Alexandra is his half sister.”

Then Jack asked the question that had been burning in his chest. He truly didn’t know what he’d do if the answer was yes. “Does he still live around here?”

She shook her head. “Three teenagers left Village Green within the next week all those years ago. Jason was first—headed for a European boarding school. Next Cole left for a military school. It was part of a deal Ross made with the DA. Then my mother took me to a spa in Nevada. That’s where they hid me behind a pretty, fake facade. I felt so dirty inside, but they just covered it over. I always have to be so careful not to let anyone see what he did to me.”

“There’s no facade now, Beth.” Jackson fingered her tangled hair. “Your hair’s all rumpled.” Next he feathered his fingertips against her face and down her neck. “Your makeup wore off hours ago.” Then he skimmed his knuckles across her collarbone to her cotton-clad shoulder and fingered the wrinkled material of the hospital gown she’d had to wear home because the light sweater she’d been wearing was filled with tiny glass shards. “And I hear the fashion police are out to confiscate every one of these in the whole country. But to me you look as sweet and enchanting and
pure
as ever.”

A great silent tear rolled from one of her eyes as she closed them. She said nothing when he fell silent and let his gaze drink in her loveliness.

“Where is Lexington now? Still in Europe?” he asked, a little restless after touching her but afraid to move from her side lest she misinterpret his actions
with her distorted sense of the world around her. Everything he said and did from now on had to be carefully weighed. He would die before letting her assume he saw her as soiled or sullied by Lexington’s violence.

“Jason’s dead,” she said, her voice hoarse with unshed tears and more than likely from her plaintive screams for help earlier in the day, too. “He was killed in an auto accident the following year,” she went on. “Mitzy Lexington blames me and she blames Cole.”

“Well, she’s wrong. And you’re wrong about who was at fault,” he said. “Didn’t any of the rape counselors you saw tell you it was all Lexington’s doing? It was no more your fault than today was.” He saw the guilt shadow her eyes. “Tell me you don’t think today was your fault.”

“If I’d checked behind me when I left Laurel Glen he—”

“Stop,” he ordered softly. “You’ve never seen a counselor about any of this, have you?”

She ducked her head. “No.”

He took her chin and raised her tear-washed eyes level with his. “I can’t imagine why not, but we’re going to fix that,” he promised.

“You should go home to the Circle A. Your father misses you. So must your sister.”

“
You
aren’t at the Circle A.”

Her eyes widened at what his matter-of-fact statement revealed, but she shook her head as if banishing the thought. “Exactly. You should forget about me
and my…problems. They’re never going to go away.”

“I don’t want to go home.” Not without you, he added silently, knowing he’d given her enough to think about where they were concerned without increasing the pressure. “And no, they won’t just go away. But your parents were wrong. You have to deal with this, not pretend it didn’t happen. It did. You were hurt. Violated. And you are no more responsible for what happened to you than any of the women at the shelter are for what their husbands did to them. It’s all violence. Just different weapons.”

“But—”

“But nothing. And another thing. You are never going to be that helpless again. As soon as you get the go-ahead, I’m teaching you how to defend yourself.”

She let out a giggle he knew was based more on nerves and near hysteria than levity. “You’re going to teach
me
how to box?”

He tapped her nose with his fingertip. “I’m going to teach you self-defense. When I’m done, you’ll be able to knock men like Hobart six ways from Sunday.”

She put her hand over her heart. “But what about here? I’m no good for you this way. I’m no good for anyone. I don’t know how to fix what he broke inside me.”

“That’s where counseling and God come in. Isn’t this why you started going to church? This is what
you were looking to find peace from. This time, honey, you went looking in the right place.”

“I hope so,” she said, her green eyes wide and imploring.

“I know so. I also know it’s time you tried to rest.”

She looked suddenly stricken. “I guess you’ll be going then.”

“Going? As in leaving you here alone? Not hardly,” he said a` la John Wayne. “I fully intend to stay with you tonight. At least tonight. Until I’m sure Hobart isn’t granted bail.”

He could see uncertainty flood her gaze. She still had so far to go. His chest ached because of what that meant. Because until her eyes were no longer shadowed with fear, shame or guilt, there was no guarantee of a future for them.

“Beth. You’re safe with me. You know that, don’t you?”

She nodded.

“Good,” he said and picked up an afghan to cover her. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Suppose you hunker down, get comfy and tell me which bay downstairs I should I put my truck in. I don’t want your parents seeing my truck here all night.”

“Are you really sure you want to stay?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t get a wink of sleep worrying about you here all alone tonight. And I promised the doc I’d watch you. I also just promised you I’d be here till we’re sure Hobart’s bound over for trial. I’ll do both happily. But that doesn’t mean I want your parents getting the idea anything untoward is happen
ing between us. I refuse to play fast and loose with your reputation.”

A blush rose on Beth’s face, and she did as ordered. She told him where to store his truck, then fell asleep quickly even though she’d dozed most of the way home. He’d been told she probably would, but he was as nervous about her health as he was her mental state.

Which only stood to reason, with a list of possible symptoms and warning signs running through his head. He was supposed to watch for worsening headache, confusion and increasing sleepiness. Those were danger signs, and he was to call the doctor immediately. But dizziness, poor concentration, forgetfulness or depression, among other symptoms, were normal signs of post-concussion syndrome.

As he watched her sleep, Jackson was nearly overcome with worry and fear. How was he supposed to tell the difference between confusion and forgetfulness? Too much sleep and not enough? The headache she had or if she was keeping increased pain to herself? She bravely might not mention if it grew worse.

While Beth slept, Jackson called Pastor Jim Dillon at the Tabernacle, seeking advice about someone to help Beth face her nightmarish past. He learned that Dillon’s wife, Holly, had taken classes in counseling women to help him with the female members of his congregation on personal matters they were reluctant to bring to him. Jackson now had someone he was sure would lead Beth in the right direction in her
quest for healing. All he had to do was convince her to talk with Holly Dillon.

The ring of the telephone woke Elizabeth around ten. She heard the murmur of Jack’s voice as he spoke in hushed tones to someone on the other end of the line. The parlor was in darkness but for a ribbon of light escaping the kitchen door. It lent only a soft glow to the room but it was enough so that she wasn’t disoriented. Her head felt better, and what little dizziness she’d felt seemed to have abated along with her headache.

Still, she felt odd. Not physically but emotionally. Almost hollow. Numb. As if the events of the day had left her drained not only of strength but also anguish and worry. She thought perhaps her emotions had been stripped from her and all ability to feel was gone, but then Jack pushed open the door. Seeing his strong, handsome profile silhouetted against the light changed her mind instantly.

She loved him.

And she felt that emotion to the depths of her soul.

She could admit that now, but only to herself. Because she couldn’t tell him. Not when she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to express that love physically. She couldn’t risk hurting him again. It hurt her to remember the pain in his gaze when she’d pushed him away in the garden the night of the Graystone Ball, when he’d kissed her. When she’d awakened in the middle of an old nightmare and thought he was Cole. And
then again when she’d told him of the day her life had been torn to shreds by her own foolishness.

Did she have a right to hold him because he was everything she needed when she might never be what he needed?

“You awake?” he whispered into the still room.

She was tempted to play possum but knew the answer to her question had to be the opposite to the one he’d asked. No, she had no right to hold him. And since she was awake it was time to let him go. Time to be a better person than she’d ever been before.

“Yes. I’m awake. Why are you still here?”

“I told you I’d stay. You remember that, don’t you?”

He sounded upset. Nearly panicked. Then she remembered the warning the doctor had given about the meaning of her becoming confused in the next several hours.

“Of course I remember. I just doubted you meant it, that’s all,” she said, tossing the remark off as cynically as she could manage while her heart already bled for his absence.

“Don’t,” he ordered, his voice stern but not the least bit annoyed.

“Don’t what?” she asked, refusing to believe he could read her so easily. Surely he couldn’t have figured out that quickly that she planned to drive him away.

“Don’t try to push me away for my own good or some such nonsense.”

She crossed her arms and looked away from him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Honey,” he said, sitting on the ottoman next to her, “you are so transparent to me at this point that you don’t have a prayer. I’ve been treated to the haughty act and swallowed it for a while. But then I met the real you. You’ve played the bad, loose woman, then admitted you’d lied. I’ve seen you act the snotty society deb with Cole about CJ, then watched you smile when he made a beeline for her to prove that he wasn’t ashamed of her. You have to have gone through your entire repertoire with me already. I’m still here and not budging. Now, you want to tell me what this is all about or did I guess it?”

Elizabeth fought a trembling lip for a few seconds before she could say anything. “I keep hurting you. And I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to—” She stopped. She couldn’t talk that frankly about sex with him. Not even after telling him about the rape.