Reclaimed (29 page)

“Paul”—Alice followed them and spoke as Suzanna slid her arms through her sleeves—“I just wanted to say I’m sorry about the way things worked out at church yesterday. It wasn’t right, and there are some of us who know what’s really going on.” She shifted her eyes to Suzanna. “We’re not all blind sheep, and some of us know firsthand just exactly how sharp Shelby’s tongue can be.”

Paul followed Alice’s attention to Suzanna. She pulled in a long breath, and her chin came off her chest. Her expression softened with gratitude, and Paul laid a hand on her back.

“Thank you, Alice.” He caught her eyes again and held them, hoping she understood how much that really meant to him. For Suzanna.

Alice’s soft grin had a knowing quality. She held a hand out to Suzanna and brought her into a hug after Suzanna took it. “It’s nice to finally meet you. You stop on in anytime. We’ll get to know each other and be fast friends, I’m sure.”

Paul flashed a grateful smile. One more friend for Suzanna. Bit by bit, she’d find a place in Rock Creek. And with every little victory, Chuck’s charade would become less and less effective.

TWENTY-SEVEN

Suzanna snapped her seatbelt as Paul pulled onto the highway. The streets were dotted with puddles, but the rain had turned to snow. White speckles drifted in the streetlights, turning the quiet town into a winterscape suitable for a Norman Rockwell painting.

She savored the tender warmth of Paul’s hand on hers, but her mind wouldn’t settle on that small joy or on the enchanted scene just outside the windshield. It spun like one of those crazy whirling contraptions at a theme park. She hated those rides. They always made her stomach twist into nauseating knots.

Which may explain why her stomach hurt.

Engaged. Paul had been in love, engaged, and then jilted. Was that really possible? What woman in her right mind would leave Paul Rustin?

He’d been so open about it. Which left her with guilt souring in her stomach. She had the perfect opportunity to say what she needed to say, and she’d ignored it. Why was it so hard to tell him she’d been married? She hadn’t done anything wrong… well, sort of, but she hadn’t been ashamed to become Jason’s wife.

The words just wouldn’t come out. She’d toyed with the right way to say it.

So, since you’ve told me, I may as well tell you; I was married.
That was pathetic.
You should probably know I’m a widow.
She hated the word—it summoned images of spiders and made her feel horrible.

For the lack of the right thing to say, she said nothing at all. Her stomachache got worse. She forced her mind to something else.

“Alice seems nice.” Bad switch. Paul would know jealousy when he saw it.

Paul glanced in her direction, but she couldn’t make out his expression in the dark. “She is.”

He turned onto the dirt road, which gave beneath the weight of his tires. Suzanna gripped the door handle, and Paul released her hand to take the wheel with both hands. The dirt had turned to greasy mud, slick and tricky to navigate. Paul leaned forward and switched to four-wheel drive as the truck swayed.

“Should I be worried?” Silly question. She already was. Fifteen miles of fishtailing through wet clay? Sheesh, what had they been thinking?

“Naw, I’ve driven through worse.”

She could make out his grin by the flash of his teeth. Dre was right—little boys just don’t grow up. She forced herself to sit back, but she couldn’t remove her death grip from the handhold. Why, she couldn’t figure. It wouldn’t help if they went spinning off into a ditch.

She didn’t pursue the topic of Alice. Paul needed to focus on keeping them between the pastures. It was probably for the best, anyway. He didn’t need to know how thin her heart truly was.

“Alice went through some stuff.” Paul broke the silence. “She knows a little bit about being the topic of discussion.”

Awesome. She’d opened a book, and now he felt like he had to explain himself. Should she tell him he didn’t have to? That her jealousy only came from a deep-rooted thorn of insecurity?

Sheesh, tell him all that and then add Jason into the mix. They’d never go on a second date.

“What happened?” She felt obligated to ask.

“She got pregnant her junior year in high school.”

Screech
. Didn’t see that coming. That sweet woman? She’d looked so pure and unscathed. Suzanna had pictured her with Paul, and the image seemed completely wholesome. No one would have guessed either had the histories of the heathen.

Paul shifted forward as they started down a hill. The back of the truck slipped, but he righted it with practiced precision.

“She’s waitressed for her mama since she was sixteen. She was always the friendly type. Some cowboy on the rodeo circuit came through town and swept her up in a whirlwind romance. Promised her the moon after he won in Las Vegas. Left her a single mom before he even made the pro circuit.”

Suzanna caught the edge in Paul’s voice. Couldn’t blame him. Evidently scoundrels exist in all forms and in all places. Even wholesome Mayberry-type towns.

“Did she have the baby?”

Paul’s hat moved with his nod. “She did. A pretty little girl. Named her Grace, which is what Alice longed for and should have received. Town talk struck her like a prairie rattler, and she withered from the poison. There were a few who loved on her, including her mama. Grace is sixteen now. Honor student and as sweet as they come.”

And here Suzanna had been sure she’d been picked on because she wasn’t local. Was she really that self-absorbed? The pain in her gut got worse.

What did Paul see in her?

“She’ll be an honest friend, Suz.”

How did one go about making friends? With Paul, she’d done everything wrong, but here they were. Beyond him and Dre and Kelsey, she didn’t have any friends. Hadn’t had any, except Jason. Just didn’t come naturally.

Neither had piano, but she’d learned. Practiced—by threat of a sore backside— for years. Now she could still plunk out a recognizable version of “Amazing Grace.”

Practice. A woman who named her illegitimate daughter Grace would surely be a good place to start.

Suzanna turned to Paul. “Does she drink coffee?”

He reached across the cab and rubbed her shoulder, returning her look with a proud grin. She leaned against his arm, and he stretched it further to pull her close.

The tender moment was ill timed.

The final curve before her house suddenly came within the reach of his headlights, and Paul hit the brakes, turning the wheel left. Had the road been dry, it would have been a sharp, but manageable turn. But muddy roads being what they are, the truck slid across the slime and settled in the ditch.

Suzanna’s heart took to a sprint and didn’t settle nearly as quickly as Paul’s truck.

“You okay?” Paul spoke just above her head. She didn’t realize she’d been clutching his arm until he pulled it free to wrap her with it.

She pulled in a long breath and released an equally long exhale. “I’m fine.” Aside from adrenaline setting her limbs to tremble and her heart, which was still off to the races. “Are you?”

He nodded and revved the engine, but the truck didn’t move. He shifted into reverse and tried again, but the tires only sent mud splattering on the windshield.

A moment skipped by in silence, and then Paul laughed. He moved away from the steering wheel, and his head dropped forward, but he kept laughing. “It’s been an interesting date, hasn’t it, Pickle?”

She pushed her hair out of her eyes and snickered. “Quite unforgettable. You do know how to show a girl a good time.”

His laughter continued to bubble as he reached toward the half-seat in the back. “It’s about to get better. We’re stuck. I won’t be able to move the pickup until the road dries.” He produced a pair of rubber mud boots. “Put these on—they’ll save your city-girl shoes.”

“We’re walking?” Suzanna tried but couldn’t fake indignation. Her smile just wouldn’t cut back.

He pulled a flashlight out of the console and left the cab without answering but was at her door within three seconds. He opened it and held out a hand. “Can I interest you in an evening stroll, Miss Wilton?”

Suzanna giggled while she shoved her feet into Paul’s boots. They were at least three sizes too big, and they’d probably get sucked in the mud, leaving her barefooted, but it was sweet of him to think of it.

She took his hand, and he led her out of the ditch. She almost lost a boot as she climbed onto the road, but she managed, with curled toes, to keep it in place.

Snow fell with quiet determination, wet and heavy and lovely. The glow from Paul’s flashlight set the white flakes sparkling, and aside from the clomping of her boots and the squishing of the mud, it was a charming stroll.

Her house came into full view, and within five minutes they’d reached her drive. Paul held the screen door open while Suzanna unlocked the solid one.

She pushed it open and stepped inside. “Are you going to come in and dry off?”

Paul followed her in but only far enough to shut the door. “Naw, I’d better keep going down the road.”

Suzanna pulled her feet free from the mud-laden boots and straightened to meet Paul’s gaze. “You’re not walking the rest of the way home.”

“It’s only a mile.”

She stared at him. “Take the Jeep.” A grin tugged on her mouth. “It’s a straight shot from here, so you should be okay.”

Paul chuckled, rubbing his neck. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. However Chuck knows what he knows, he’ll have it published by nine tomorrow morning that your Jeep stayed the night in my driveway.”

Ah, the real world. The one where she and Paul weren’t going to work because people in town didn’t want them to. Suzanna glanced away.

“Hey...” Paul put a hand to her arm and squeezed.

Suzanna made herself look at him.

“I had a good time.” Warm blue eyes took hers captive.

“Me too.”

He swallowed, the heat in his gaze growing more intense. “We’re pretty good friends, aren’t we, Suz?”

What? He wasn’t giving her the “let’s just be friends” speech. How was that possible? She nodded, unable to find words, while disappointment lodged in her chest.

He settled his other hand on her shoulder. “If I kiss you, we may never be able to go back.”

Her pulse began to throb as warmth spiraled inside her stomach. “That’s true,” she whispered.

His fingers trailed along her neck and brushed her jaw. He traced her mouth with his thumb as his head dropped closer. “I really want to kiss you though.”

“I really want you to.” The words tumbled out breathlessly.

His hand slid over her cheek and to her neck as he pulled her close. Her eyes closed as his mouth brushed over her lips, his kiss soft and tender.

Oh, sweet breath of pleasure. She slid her hands along his arms, following them to his shoulders. He moved a hand to her back, pulling her against his chest. Bliss warmed her limbs as he claimed her lips again.

He pulled away, leaning his head on hers. She opened her eyes and found hesitancy staring back. Fear?

He’d been rejected before.

Never, Paul Rustin.

She lifted her mouth to his, and he returned her kisses with building passion. When he pulled away again, he stepped back.

Suzanna’s heart pounded as their gazes held. A smile tugged on his mouth, beckoning hers.

“Does this mean we can’t be friends anymore?” She raised an ornery eyebrow.

Paul chuckled but grew serious again in the next breath. He caught her hand and pressed it to his lips. “You’re my best friend, Suz.” He kissed her palm again and let her go, opening the door to leave.

“Paul.” She caught his arm, and he paused. “Just take the Jeep. Otherwise, I’ll worry.”

He looked outside and then back at her. “Keys?”

“They’re in it.”

He nodded and then leaned to brush a kiss against her head. “Good night.”

Suzanna watched him trek back into the snowy night, mud caked up to his knees. Mud seemed to jell them. That being the case, she’d take the rain and snow.