Chapter Nineteen
M eg had forgotten the security camera, and Haley didn’t know about it. Her head shot up in panic. “You’re going to tell him what I’ve done, aren’t you?”
“No. You’re going to tell him.” Haley had been spiteful and destructive, but she’d also protected Meg from Spence today, and Meg owed her something for that. She grabbed her by the shoulders. “Listen to me, Haley. Right now you have a chance to change the course of your life. To stop being a sneaky, destructive, love-struck child and start being a woman with a little character.” Haley winced as Meg dug her fingers into her arms, but Meg didn’t let go. “If you don’t stand up right now and face the consequences of what you’ve done, you’re going to be living your life in the shadows—always ashamed, always knowing you’re a mean little rat who betrayed a friend.”
Haley’s face crumpled. “I can’t do it.”
“You can do whatever you set your mind to. Life doesn’t give you many moments like this, and you know what I think? I think that how you act in the next few minutes will dictate the person you’re going to be from now on.”
“No, I—”
Ted jumped out of his truck and rushed toward Meg. “The security people called. They said Spence showed up. I got here as fast as I could.”
“Spence is gone,” Meg said. “He left when he saw Haley.”
With one sweep of his eyes, he took in Meg’s bare legs and the damp T-shirt that didn’t quite cover her wet panties. “What happened? He gave you trouble, didn’t he?”
“Let’s just say he wasn’t pleasant. But I haven’t blown your big deal, if that’s what you want to know.” Of course it was what he wanted to know. “At least I don’t think I have,” she added.
Was the relief she saw on his face a reflection of his concern for her or for the town? She wanted more than anything to tell him what had happened, but that would put him in an impossible situation. No matter how hard it would be, she was going to bide her time, just for a few days.
He finally noticed Haley’s red eyes and blotchy face. “What happened to you?”
Haley looked at Meg, waiting for Meg to bust her, but Meg stared right back. Haley dipped her head. “I—got a bee sting.”
“A bee sting?” Ted said.
Haley gazed at Meg again, daring her to say something. Or maybe begging her to do what Haley couldn’t manage for herself. Seconds ticked by, and when Meg didn’t say anything, Haley began to pull at her bottom lip. “I’ve got to go,” she finally mumbled in a small, coward’s voice.
Ted knew something more than a bee sting had transpired. He looked at Meg for an explanation, but Meg kept her focus on Haley.
Haley dug into the pocket of her microscopic shorts for her car keys. She’d parked her Focus facing the lane, presumably to make a fast getaway after she’d burned Meg’s clothes. She pulled her keys out and studied them for a moment, still waiting for Meg to expose her. When that didn’t happen, she began taking short, tentative steps toward her car.
“Welcome to the rest of your life,” Meg called out.
Ted regarded her curiously. Haley faltered, then stopped. When she finally turned around, her eyes were bleak, pleading.
Meg shook her head.
Haley’s throat muscles worked. Meg held her breath.
Haley turned back toward her car. Took another step. Stopped and faced him. “It was me,” she said in a rush. “I’m the one who did those things to Meg.”
Ted stared at her. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m—I’m the one who vandalized the church.”
Ted Beaudine wasn’t often at a loss for words, but this was one of those moments. Haley twisted the keys in her hands. “I sent that letter. I put the bumper stickers on her car and tried to break off the wipers and threw the rock at her windshield.”
He shook his head, trying to take it all in. Then he rounded on Meg. “You told me a rock fell off a truck.”
“I didn’t want you to worry,” Meg said. Or take it upon yourself to replace my Rustmobile with a Humvee, something you’re perfectly capable of doing.
He spun back to confront Haley. “Why? Why would you do all that?”
“To—to make her leave. I’m . . . sorry.”
For a genius, he was slow on the uptake. “What did she ever do to you?”
Once again, Haley faltered. This would be the hardest part for her, and she looked at Meg for help. But Meg wasn’t giving it. Haley’s fist curled around her keys. “I was jealous of her.”
“Jealous of what ?”
Meg wished he didn’t sound so incredulous.
Haley’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Because of you.”
“Me?” More incredulity.
“Because I fell in love with you,” Haley said, each word wrapped in misery.
“That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard.” Ted’s disgust was so palpable that Meg almost felt sorry for Haley. “How could tormenting Meg show your so-called love ?” The word was a snarl that sent Haley’s fantasy world crashing around her.
She pressed her hands to her stomach. “I’m sorry.” She started to cry. “I . . . never meant for it to go so far. I’m—so sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” he shot back. And then he delivered the final proof of exactly how unrequited her feelings for him were. “Get in your car. We’re going to the police station. And you’d better call your mother on the way because you’re going to need all the support you can get.”
Tears rolled down Haley’s cheeks, and small, choked sobs caught in her throat, but she kept her head up. She’d accepted her fate, and she didn’t argue with him.
“Hold on.” Meg blew air into her cheeks, and then released it. “I have to vote no on the police.”
Haley stared at her. Ted waved her off. “I’m not arguing with you about this.”
“Since I’m the victim, I get the final say.”
“Like hell you do,” he said. “She terrorized you, and now she’s going to pay.”
“For whatever it cost you to put in my new windshield, that’s for sure.”
He was so furious that his skin had gone pale beneath his tan. “For more than that. She’s broken at least a dozen laws. Trespassing, harassment, vandalism—”
“How many laws did you break,” Meg said, “when you vandalized the Statue of Liberty?”
“I was nine. ”
“And a genius,” she pointed out, while Haley watched them, not sure what was going on or how it would affect her. “That means you were at least nineteen in IQ years. That’s a year older than she is.”
“Meg, think about what she did to you.”
“I don’t have to. Haley’s the one who needs to think, and I could be wrong about this, but I have a feeling she’s going to be doing a lot of that. Please, Ted. Everybody deserves a second chance.”
Haley’s future rested with Ted, but she was looking at Meg with an expression that combined shame and wonder.
Ted glared down at Haley. “You don’t deserve this.”
Haley wiped her cheeks with her fingers and gazed at Meg. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I won’t ever forget this. And I promise. Somehow I’ll make it up to you.”
“Don’t worry about making it up to me,” Meg said. “Make it up to yourself.”
Haley took that in. Finally, she nodded—a small, hesitant motion—and then she nodded more decisively.
As Haley walked to her car, Meg remembered the nagging feeling that she’d let something important slip past her. This must be it. Somewhere in her subconscious, she must have suspected Haley, although she wasn’t sure how she could have.
Haley drove away. Ted kicked the gravel with his heel. “You’re too soft, do you know that? Too damned soft.”
“I’m a spoiled celebrity child, remember? Being soft is all I know.”
“This is no time for joking around.”
“Hey, if you can think of a bigger joke than Ted Beaudine hooking up with a mere mortal like Meg—”
“Stop it!”
The day’s tension was getting to her, but she didn’t want him to see how vulnerable she felt. “I don’t like it when you’re crabby,” she said. “It defies the laws of nature. If you can turn into a grouch, who knows what’s next? The entire universe might blow up.”
He ignored that. Instead, he hooked one of her wet curls behind her ear. “What did Spence want? Other than your rapt attention and an introduction to your celebrity friends?”
“That . . . basically covers it.” She turned her cheek into his palm.
“There’s something you’re not telling me.”
She turned her voice into a sexy purr. “Babe, there’s lots I’m not telling you.”
He smiled and touched his thumb to her bottom lip. “You can’t go running off by yourself. Everybody is trying to make sure you’re never alone with him, but you have to do your part, too.”
“I know. And believe me, it won’t happen again. Although I can’t tell you how much it bothers me that I’m the one who has to go into hiding just because some horny zillionaire—”
“I know. It’s not right.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Just stay out of his way for a couple more days, and then you can tell him to go to hell. As a matter of fact, I’ll do it for you. You can’t imagine how sick I am of having that clown run my life.”
The feeling returned without warning. The sensation of something lying in wait for her. Something that had nothing to do with Haley Kittle.
The sky had grown darker, and the wind pressed her T-shirt to her body. “Don’t you . . . Don’t you think it’s odd that Spence hasn’t heard about us? Or that Sunny hasn’t heard? So many people know, but . . . not them. Sunny doesn’t know, does she?”
He glanced up at the clouds. “Doesn’t seem to.”
She couldn’t get enough air into her lungs. “Twenty women saw you kiss me at that luncheon. Some of them must have told their husbands, a friend. Birdie told Haley.”
“It figures.”
The racing clouds threw his face into shadow, and the fruit she’d been trying so hard to touch came closer. She sucked in more air. “All those people know we’re a couple. But not Spence and Sunny.”
“This is Wynette. Everybody pulls together.”
The fruit hung so close she could catch its scent, no longer pleasant, but fetid and cloying. “Such loyal people.”
“They don’t make them any better.”
And just like that, she had the poisoned fruit in her hand. “You knew all along that nobody would say anything to Spence or Sunny.”
A distant roll of thunder . . . He craned his neck toward the video camera in the tree, as if he wanted to make sure it hadn’t moved. “I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”
“Oh, you understand, all right.” She spoke the rest on a single, painful breath. “When you kissed me . . . When you told all those women we were a couple . . . You knew they’d keep it a secret.”
He shrugged. “People’ll do what they’re going to do.”
The fruit split open in her hands, revealing its wormy, rotten flesh. “All your talk about openness and honesty, about how much you hated sneaking around. I bought it.”
“I do hate sneaking around.”
The clouds rushed overhead, the thunder rumbled, and a wave of fury caught her in its grip. “I was so touched when you kissed me in front of everyone. So giddy that you were willing to make that kind of sacrifice. For me! But you . . . you weren’t risking a thing.”
“Wait a minute.” His eyes flamed with righteous indignation. “You lit into me that night. You said what I did was stupid.”
“That’s what my head said. But my heart . . . My stupid heart . . .” Her voice broke. “It was singing.”
He winced. “Meg . . .”
The play of emotions on the face of this man who would never willingly hurt anyone was painfully easy to decipher. His dismay. His concern. His pity. She hated it—hated him. She wanted to hurt him as he’d hurt her, and she knew exactly how to punish him. With her honesty.
“I’ve fallen in love with you,” she said. “Just like the others.”
He couldn’t hide his dismay. “Meg . . .”
“But I don’t mean any more to you than the rest of them. Any more to you than Lucy did.”
“Hold it right there.”
“I’m such an idiot. That kiss meant so much to me. I let it mean so much.” She gave a harsh laugh that was mainly a sob, no longer certain which of them she was most angry with. “And the way you wanted me to stay at your house . . . Everybody was so worried about that, but if it had happened, they’d have killed themselves covering for you. You knew that.”
“You’re making a big deal out of nothing.” But he wouldn’t meet her eyes.
She took in his strong, clean profile. “Just the sight of you made me feel like dancing,” she whispered. “I’ve never loved a man like I love you. Never imagined the kind of feelings I have for you.”
His mouth twisted and his eyes darkened with pain. “Meg, I care. Don’t think I don’t care. You’re— You’re wonderful. You make me . . .”
He paused, searching for a word, and she sneered at him through her tears. “Do I make your heart sing? Do I make you feel like dancing?”
“You’re upset. You—”
“My love is hot!” The words burst from her. “It’s a burning thing. It boils and churns and runs deep and strong. But all your emotions are cool and spare. You stand on the sidelines where you don’t have to sweat too much. That’s why you wanted to marry Lucy. It was neat. It was logical. Well, I’m not neat. I’m messy and wild and disruptive, and you have broken my heart.”
With a clap of thunder, the rain began to fall. His face twisted. “Don’t say that. You’re upset.”
He tried to reach out to her, but she jerked away. “Get out of here. Leave me alone.”
“Not like this.”
“Exactly like this. Because you only want what’s best for people. And right now what’s best for me is to be alone.”
The rain was falling more heavily now. She could see his internal scales working away. Weighing the pros and cons. Wanting to do the right thing. Always do the right thing. That’s how he was made. And by letting him see how much he’d hurt her, she couldn’t have hurt him more.
A crack of lightning split the air. He pulled her up the steps and beneath the overhang above the church doors. She jerked away. “Leave! Can’t you at least do that?”
“Please, Meg. We’ll sort this out. We just need a little time.” He tried to touch her face, but when she flinched, he let his arm drop to his side. “You’re upset. And I understand. Later tonight, we’ll—”
“No. Not tonight.” Not tomorrow. Not ever.
“Listen to me. Please . . . I have meetings all day tomorrow with Spence and his people, but tomorrow night, we’ll . . . We’ll have dinner at my house where there won’t be any interruptions. Just the two of us. We’ll both have had time to think about all this, and we can talk it through.”
“Right. Time to think. That’s going to fix everything.”
“Be fair, Meg. This has come out of nowhere. Promise me,” he said roughly. “Unless you promise to meet me tomorrow night, I’m not going anywhere.”
“All right,” she said woodenly. “I promise.”
“Meg . . .”
Once again he tried to touch her, and once again she resisted. “Just go. Please. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
He studied her for so long she didn’t think he’d leave. But eventually he did, and she stood at the top of the church stairs, watching him drive away in the rain.
When he was out of sight, she did what she hadn’t been able to do before. She walked around the side of the church and broke a window. A single pane she could reach through to unfasten the latch. Then she shoved the window open and climbed into her dusty, empty sanctuary.
He expected her to meet him tomorrow night for a calm, logical discussion about her unrequited love. She’d promised him.
As a clap of thunder shook the building, she thought how easily that kind of promise could be broken.
In the choir loft, she found a pair of jeans Dallie and Skeet had overlooked when they’d packed up her things. There was still food in the kitchen, but she had no appetite. Instead, she paced the old pine floor and thought of everything that had brought her to this moment. Ted couldn’t change who he was. Had she really believed he could love her? How could she have thought, even for a moment, that she was different from the rest?
Because he’d shown her parts of himself he’d never shown anyone else, and that had made her feel different. But it had all been an illusion, and now she had to leave because staying here was impossible.
The thought of never seeing him again nearly made her crumple, so she focused on the practicalities. The old, irresponsible Meg would have jumped in her car that night and run off. But her new, improved version had obligations. Tomorrow was her day off, so no one would be expecting her at work, and she had time to do what she needed to.
She waited until she was sure Skeet would be asleep before she returned to his house. As his snores rumbled down the hallway, she sat at the desk in his office where she’d been working on her jewelry and picked up a yellow pad. She made notes for whoever would take over the drink cart, explaining how best to stock it, listing the preferences of the regulars, adding a few lines about recycling cups and cans. Maybe her job wasn’t brain surgery, but she’d more than doubled the revenue from the drink cart, and she was proud of that. At the end, she wrote, A job is what you make it. But she felt foolish and crossed it out.
As she finished a bracelet she’d promised Torie, she tried not to think about him, but that was impossible, and by dawn, when she slipped the bracelet into a padded envelope, she was bleary-eyed and exhausted, sadder than she could ever remember.
Skeet was eating his Cap’n Crunch at the kitchen table, the sports page propped in front of him, when she came out. “Good news,” she said, forcing a smile. “My stalker has been identified and neutralized. Don’t ask me for details.”
Skeet looked up from his cereal. “Ted know about this?”
She struggled against the wave of pain that threatened to drown her whenever she thought of never seeing him again. “Yes. And I’m moving back into the church.” She didn’t like lying to Skeet, but she needed an excuse to pack up her things without arousing his suspicions.
“Don’t see why you need to hurry off,” he grumbled.
As he returned to his Cap’n Crunch, she realized she’d miss the old curmudgeon, right along with a lot of other people in this crazy town.
Lack of sleep and too much pain had worn her out, and she’d barely started packing before she gave in and lay down. Despite her bleak dreams, she didn’t awaken till early afternoon. She finished packing quickly but still didn’t get to the bank until nearly three o’clock. She withdrew all but twenty dollars from her meager account. If she closed the account, every teller in the place would start quizzing her, and five minutes after she walked out the door, Ted would know she was leaving. She couldn’t bear another confrontation.
The town’s only mailbox sat by the front steps of the small post office. She mailed her drink-cart notes and her letter of resignation to Barry, the assistant manager. As she dropped in the envelope with Torie’s bracelet, a car pulled into the no-parking zone. The driver’s window slid down, and Sunny Skipjack poked out her head. “I’ve been looking for you. I forgot the club was closed today. Let’s grab a drink so we can talk.”
Sunny was all sleek efficiency with her shiny dark hair and platinum jewelry. Meg had never felt more breakable. “Not a good time, I’m afraid,” she said. “I have a million things to do.” Like get in my car and turn my back on the man I love so much.
“Cancel them. This is important.”
“Is it about your father?”
Sunny looked at her blankly. “What about my father?”
“Nothing.”
A few people on the sidewalk stopped to watch, none of them trying to be discreet about it. Sunny, the busy executive, tapped impatient fingers on the steering wheel. “Are you sure you can’t spare a few minutes from your busy schedule to discuss a possible business venture?”
“Business venture?”
“I’ve seen your jewelry. I want to talk. Get in.”
Meg’s plan for the future was foggy at best. She weighed the risk of postponing her departure for an hour against the benefit of hearing what Sunny had to say. Sunny might be a pain in the ass, but she was also a smart businesswoman. Meg set aside her reluctance to enter an enclosed space with another Skipjack and got in the car.
“Did you hear there was an article in the Wall Street Journal, of all places, about Ted’s contest?” Sunny said as she pulled out into the street. “Part of a series on creative approaches to charitable fund-raising.”
“No, I hadn’t heard that.”
She drove with one hand on the wheel. “Every time one of those stories comes out, the bidding goes up. All this national attention is getting pricey, but I haven’t splurged on anything for a long time.” Sunny’s cell rang. She slipped it under the sickle of shiny dark hair that swung over her ear. “Hi, Dad.”
Meg stiffened.
“Yes, I read the memo, and I spoke to Wolfburg,” Sunny said. “I’ll call Terry this evening.”
They talked for another few minutes about lawyers and the land deal. Meg’s thoughts drifted back to Ted, only to be brought up short as Sunny said, “I’ll have to check on that later. Meg and I are hanging out right now.” She looked over at Meg and rolled her eyes. “No, you’re not invited to join us. Talk to you later.” She listened for a moment, frowned, then disconnected. “He sounded pissed. What’s up with you two?”
Meg welcomed the flood of anger. “Your father isn’t good at taking no for an answer.”
“That’s why he’s successful. He’s smart and focused. I don’t understand why you’re giving him such a hard time. Or maybe I do.”
Meg didn’t want to have this conversation, and she regretted getting in the car. “You wanted to talk about my jewelry,” she said as they turned out onto the highway.
“You’re underselling. Your pieces are distinctive, and they have snob appeal. You need to reposition yourself for the high-end market. Go to New York. Use your contacts to meet the right buyers. And stop wasting your merchandise on the locals. You can’t build a serious design reputation in East Jesus, Texas.”
“Good advice,” Meg replied as they passed the Roustabout. “I thought we were going for a drink.”
“Short detour to the landfill.”
“I’ve already seen it, and I really don’t want to go back.”
“I need to take some pictures. We won’t stay long. Besides, we can talk in private there.”
“I’m not sure we need a private conversation.”
“Sure we do.” Sunny turned into the lane that led to the landfill. It had received a fresh coat of gravel since Meg was last here, the time she and Ted had made love against the side of the truck. Another wave of pain punched her in the chest.
Sunny pulled up next to the rusted sign, grabbed a camera from her purse, and got out, every gesture, every movement, purposeful. Meg had never met anyone so self-confident.
She wasn’t going to cower in the car, and she stepped out, too. Sunny put the camera to her eye and focused on the landfill. “This is the future of Wynette.” The shutter clicked. “At first, I was opposed to building here, but after I got to know the town and the people better, I changed my mind.”
After you got to know Ted Beaudine, Meg thought.
She took more shots, shifting her angle. “It’s really a unique place. The bedrock of America and all that. Generally, Dad’s not crazy about small towns, but everybody’s been so great to him here, and he loves being able to play with guys like Dallie and Ted and Kenny.” She lowered the camera. “As for me . . . It’s no secret I’m interested in Ted.”
“You and the rest of the female universe.”
Sunny smiled. “But, unlike the rest, I’m also an engineer. I can meet him as an intellectual equal, and how many other women can say that?”
Not me, Meg thought.
She walked behind the landfill sign and pointed her camera toward the methane pipes. “I understand the technology that interests him.” The shutter clicked. “I appreciate his passion for ecology on both a scientific and a practical level. He has an amazing mind, and not many people can walk in lockstep with that kind of intellect.”
Still another woman who thought she knew what he needed. Meg couldn’t resist. “And Ted returns your feelings?”
“We’re getting there.” She lowered the camera again. “At least I hope so. I’m a realist. Maybe it won’t happen the way I want, but I’m like my father. I don’t back down from a challenge. I believe Ted and I have a future, and I intend to do everything I can to make it happen.” She gazed directly into Meg’s eyes. “Cards on the table. I want you to leave Wynette.”
“Do you now?” She saw no reason to tell Sunny she’d have been on her way if Sunny hadn’t stopped her. “And why is that?”
“It’s not personal. I think you’re good for my father. He’s been depressed lately. Getting older and all that. You’ve taken his mind off it. The problem for me is, you’re holding Ted back. He’d never admit he’s leaning on you, but it’s obvious.”
“You think Ted’s leaning on me?”
“I see it in the way he looks at you, the way he talks about you. I know you and Lucy Jorik were best friends. You’re a reminder of her, and as long as you’re around, it’s going to be very hard for him to move forward.”
So smart, and yet so dumb.
“I’m also a big believer in women watching out for women,” Sunny said. “Being around him so much isn’t good for you. I’ve heard from more people than I can count that you’re over him, but we both know that’s not quite true. Face it, Meg. Ted’s never going to go for you. The two of you have nothing in common.”
Except famous parents, a privileged upbringing, a passion for ecology, and a high tolerance for the absurd, something Sunny would never understand.
“Ted is comfortable with you because you remind him of Lucy,” Sunny went on. “But that’s all it will ever be. Staying here is holding you back, and it’s making my relationship with him more complicated.”
“You certainly are blunt.”
She shrugged. “I believe in being honest.”
But what Sunny called honesty was nothing more than a callous disregard for any feelings or opinions that weren’t her own.
“Subtleties have never worked for me,” she said, proudly flying the flag of her self-importance. “If you’re willing to disappear, I’m willing to help you get started with your jewelry business.”
“Blood money?”
“Why not? You aren’t a bad investment. By incorporating genuine relics in your pieces, you’ve stumbled on a nice little niche market that could be very profitable.”
“Except I’m not sure I want to be in the jewelry business.”
Sunny couldn’t comprehend anyone turning her back on a viable business, and she barely concealed a sneer. “What else are you going to do?”
She was about to tell Sunny she’d handle her future her own way when she heard tires spinning on gravel. They both turned as an unfamiliar car braked to a stop behind them. The sun was in her eyes, so she couldn’t see who was driving, but the interruption didn’t surprise her. The good citizens of Wynette wouldn’t leave her alone with a Skipjack for long.
But as the car door opened, her stomach sank. The person getting out of the dark sedan was Spence. She turned to Sunny. “Take me back to town.”
But Sunny’s eyes were on her father as he approached them, his Panama hat shadowing the upper half of his face. “Dad, what are you doing here?”
“You told me you were taking pictures today.”
Meg had no reserves left to deal with this. “I want to go back to town now.”
“Leave us alone,” Spence said to his daughter. “I have a few things I need to say to Meg in private.”
“No! Don’t leave.”
Meg’s alarm confused Sunny, whose welcoming smile for her father faded. “What’s going on?”
Spence angled his head toward his daughter’s car. “I’ll meet you back in town. Go on.”
“Stay where you are, Sunny,” Meg said. “I don’t want to be alone with him.”
Sunny looked at her as if she were maggot-infested. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Meg’s a coward,” he said. “That’s what’s wrong with her.”
Meg wouldn’t be his helpless victim yet again. “Sunny, your father assaulted me yesterday.”