The cold doorknob in her hand helped keep her upright. Her head fell on the hard wood of the door. “What?”

“You heard me. Now, sit down.” The ice in Poppy’s words smashed into her like an arctic storm.

She glanced over her shoulder. There was a mound of paper torn to pieces on the desk.

The check.

She made her way back to the chair, where a Chanel-clad nightmare stared back at her.

“I’m afraid your money’s no good here, Scarlett.” Poppy smiled a sickly sweet smile again.

“What do you mean my money’s no good here? I have no idea what this is all about, but you have to take the payment, Poppy.”

“It’s about the land that your sorry excuse for a farm sits on,” Poppy said, in the most reasonable tone imaginable. “It’s a beautiful piece of property, perfect for a new housing development. The pond, the creek, all those luscious trees. People will pay top dollar for the illusion of land to sprawl on.” She slid open her desk drawer and pulled out a schematic.

Scarlett could only stare. Poppy had lost her mind. She may be the bank president, but she still had to follow bank procedures set by the government.

Poppy pointed a blood-red nail at the drawing. “See? Isn’t it gorgeous?” She sounded like a kid showing off a new puppy. “Hiking trails, schools, parks, and million-dollar homes.”

“Million-dollar homes? Poppy, who in Zachsville, besides your family and Luanne’s, can afford such a thing?”

“No one,” she scoffed. “I’ll let you in on a super-big secret.” She leaned forward. “Crude Co. Industries is going to build its new plant in Holton, only thirty miles away. All those oil execs will need a beautiful place to live. And my new development, located where the Kelly farm currently sits, will be perfect.”

“Yeah, it’s nice. Too bad you’ll have to find somewhere else to build it, because I just paid off the Kelly farm. We own it free and clear.” She crossed her arms. “Is your father in on this scam too?”

“Please,” she scoffed. “If it were up to the ever-benevolent Hartley Sims, every farmer in this county would have an open line of credit. No, Mom and Dad are on a six-month cruise in Europe. He’s happy and clueless.”

“So you were going to take our land and leave us with nothing?”

“It sounds so ugly when you put it that way.” Poppy tented her fingers and tapped them together. “And now that you’ve so inconveniently paid off the loan, I’ll have to come up with another plan.”

Scarlett rose. “Okay. I think we’re done here. I’ll have my bank draft another check. Any further transactions should be handled through my attorney.” But it was clear the bank president wasn’t listening to her. Whatever. She’d had enough of this insanity.

Poppy sighed, sat back in her chair and made a what can you do gesture with her hands. “I suppose there’s only one thing to do, Heaven Leigh.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“In a heartbeat.” Her snake’s glare confirmed the threat.

“You invited me to the party. You got me arrested.”

The she-devil had the nerve to grin. “True. But I also got you out. So, technically you owe me. It’s time to pay up, Heaven.”

“I owe you? You’re insane. I’ve always wondered how you managed to escape the arrest and how you got me out.”

Poppy adjusted her jacket. “It’s not hard when you know people. I have everything I need to destroy you, and I’ll use it in a New York minute if you don’t give me what I want. That land at pennies on the dollar.”

“You want me to betray my father by getting him to sell the land to you?”

“Precisely.”

A bark of laughter shot from Scarlett’s mouth. “Are you off your meds, Poppy? I would never hurt my family like that.”

The dragon-lady behind the desk brushed imaginary lint from her lapel. “Tell me this, Scarlett. How hurt do you think your family will be when they find out their precious girl was arrested for prostitution?” Poppy’s hand went over her heart. “What will people say?” she mocked. “And who do you think our friends and neighbors will believe? Zachsville’s princess or the town slut’s daughter?”

Would she ever outrun her mother’s reputation?

“Of course, I’ll have to insist you keep this only between us, or things could get really ugly.” She winked. “Understand?”

Scarlett gripped the arm of the chair. “Oh, I understand, alright. You’re an evil bitch.”

“Name-calling, Scarlett? It’s so beneath you.” Poppy dug in a drawer and tossed a manila envelope on the desk. The edge of a photo peeked out.

Angry tears shoved against Scarlett’s eyeballs when she saw the image on the desk. She clamped down her emotions and tried to ignore her mascara stained face in the picture. She would not let Poppy see her lose it. “How can you ask me to do this horrible thing for you?”

Poppy’s tone was conciliatory, her expression shocked. “No. No. Not for me, Scarlett. For you.” She narrowed her eyes, and all sign of mollification vanished. “Because if you don’t, I will release every piece of evidence I have about Heaven Leigh, including her true identity, to the media.” She leaned forward, her face as chilling as her next words.

“It’ll be a bloodbath.”

* * *

The midday sun scorched Scarlett’s retinas when she emerged from the bank. She leaned against the building and dug her sunglasses from her purse. Her arms and legs didn’t want to work, the afterburn of too much adrenaline, too fast, in her system.

How had this happened? This problem was supposed to be put to bed. But instead of being resolved it was exponentially worse. She would not give into Poppy’s demands.

She. Would. Not.

Yes, she’d been arrested, but she’d never been charged, and it had all gone away. Really, it would only be Poppy’s word against hers.

Who do you think people will believe, Zachsville’s princess, or the town slut’s daughter?

Bile burned her throat. She wanted to hurl, but then she heard the sweetest sound in the world.

“Miss Scarlett, Miss Scarlett.” Two five-year-olds barreled down the sidewalk toward her, leaving their mothers in their wake.

“Ginger and Mia, how are you?”

“We’re good. We missed you in Sunday school,” Ginger said.

“Yeah. Mrs. Ellis was mean. She wouldn’t let me turn the storybook, even though I telled her you let me do it all the time.” The mutinous look on Mia’s adorable face was hilarious.

“You told her?” Scarlett said.

Mia scrunched her face up for a second and said, “Yes. I told her.” Her snaggletooth smile melted Scarlett’s heart.

“Harry Mosely brought a grasshopper to class, and Mrs. Ellis yelled when he pulled it out of his bag. She has a phe…a pho… What’s it called, Mommy?” Ginger asked her mother.

“A phobia. It means Mrs. Ellis is very afraid of something,” Ginger’s mother answered. “I guess you can tell they really missed you Sunday. But it sounds like you were kind of busy.” Ginger’s mom, Carol, waggled her eyebrows. Laurie, Mia’s mom, gave a throaty mmh-hmm.

Heat exploded across Scarlett’s face and neck, and it didn’t have anything to do with the Texas sun. She ducked her head. “Yes. I was a little busy.”

Both women howled with laughter, and Laurie threw her arms around Scarlett, “Congratulations, girl. I’m so happy for you.”

Before Scarlett could respond, Carol jumped into the fray and wrapped them all in a group hug. “I’m happy and jealous. He’s hot as fire.”

Not to be left out, Mia and Ginger began dancing around singing, “He’s hot as fire, he’s hot as fire, he’s hot as fire.”

Thankfully both moms released her and took ahold of their offspring, putting an end to the PG-13 chant.

Ginger pulled on Scarlett’s hand. “Is Mr. Scarlett coming to Sunday school with you?”

Scarlett stifled a giggle at the thought of Gavin ‘The Delinquent’ Bain in a kids’ Sunday school class. If Harry Mosley showed him a grasshopper, Gavin would probably drop an “F” bomb then bite the head off the thing. “I doubt it, sweetie.”

“Well, we’ll let you get on your way. Girls, tell Miss Scarlett goodbye,” Laurie said.

“Bye, Miss Scarlett.” They both wrapped their skinny arms around Scarlett’s legs, making it hard to stand.

“Goodbye girls, see you Sunday.” She smiled as she watched them skip down the sidewalk.

“What a touching scene,” sneered an older woman with jiggly jowls and hard eyes. Marjorie Stewart, Zachsville’s biggest gossip and the mother of her ex-boyfriend, Justin, blocked the sidewalk.

“Hello, Marjorie.” The burgeoning bubble of happiness the girls left behind popped at the sight of this spiteful woman.

“I wonder how long you’ll be teaching Sunday school after everyone has time to process your spontaneous marriage to a musician.” She spat musician like a four letter word.

“Marjorie, I’m not interested in discussing my husband with you. If you’ll excuse me?”

“A Las Vegas wedding is so cheap, not to mention tacky. But then again you are your mother’s daughter, and if there was ever a tawdry, tacky woman it was Mary Kelly. Hmpf, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” She pulled her jacket down over her considerable girth. “The best thing to ever happen to my Justin is the day he cut you loose.”

“Goodbye, Marjorie.” Scarlett stepped past the woman to make her escape. But Marjorie’s words rang in her ears. Not the part about Justin, because she’d broken up with him, but the apple not falling far from the tree.

Thoughts of her Sunday school kids floated through her head. She loved them, and they loved her. Their parents loved her. What would they all think when she was exposed?

Her mother’s reputation ensured everyone would believe the worst. The truth rarely mattered once gossip started.

Her phone buzzed. With a shaky hand, she fished it from her purse. Five messages from Gavin blinked with insistence.

We’re at the café. No worries. Come when you can.

You need to come to the café. ASAP!

Where the hell are you? Hurry!!

Get your ass here. Now!!!

Help!!!!

* * *

The music reached Scarlett’s ears before she got to the diner, and the savory aroma of pot roast met her on the sidewalk. Everything blurred for a second as her vision adjusted to the dim light of the café’s interior. Honestly, she didn’t need the sense of sight to know what was happening. Honey was at an upright piano in the corner of the restaurant, playing and singing her heart out.

The restaurant’s owner let the senior citizens use the diner on Mondays when the restaurant was closed. The piano was there for the Senior Crooners sing-a-long that Honey led. Gavin was sitting next to the piano on an upside down, white, five gallon bucket beating the rhythm of the hymn Honey was belting. He wasn’t singing, maybe he didn’t know the song, but more likely Honey told him to only accompany her. Her aunt did love the spotlight.

Ronny Lewis, the café’s owner, greeted Scarlett at the door. She nodded toward her aunt. “How long has she been at it?”

Ronny chuckled. “This is her third song. Can your husband really sing?”

“Yes. Why?”

“He hasn’t sung a note since she sat down. Of course, he could be a bit shell-shocked. She stood him in front of Sally Pruitt’s table and told him to raise his shirt to show his tattoos.”

Scarlett covered her face with her hands. “No, she didn’t.”

“Yep.” He wiped off a menu with a cloth. “She and Sally seemed to be particularly fascinated with the one right above his jeans…in the front…below his navel.”

Scarlett held up her hand to stop him. “I know the one.” She couldn’t meet Ronny’s eyes. “I better go save him.” She maneuvered through the tables accepting congratulations as graciously as possible, all the while wanting to crawl in a hole. Honey might love the spotlight, but she hated it.

The upside to the situation with Poppy, if there was an upside, was her marriage to Gavin had been downgraded from biggest mistake of her life to just a plain ol’ mistake. The biggest mistake of her life had been to trust Poppy Sims.

Relief relaxed Gavin’s features when he saw her. A laugh loomed behind her lips, she couldn’t help it. His face was so tortured. By the time she made her way to the pair, she’d gotten her laughter under control.

The song ended to polite applause. Honey continued to play a light tune while she decided on her next number. “Gavin, do you know Love Me Tender?”

“I do.”

Still playing, Honey smiled to the crowd and leaned closer to Gavin. She whispered surreptitiously, “Do you really know it? Because these people expect a certain level of professionalism from me, I don’t want you makin’ me look bad.” She nodded to Peggy Fox and returned her attention to him. “No offense.”

“None taken.” Gavin’s serious face must have conveyed the correct amount of competency because Honey segued into the love song.

When the first strands of the tune began, a low rumble of conversation filled the room. Then Honey and Gavin began to sing. All movement stilled, all chatting ceased. The duo had the entire room’s attention, and even the kitchen staff stopped to listen. Honey’s sweet soprano, with the perfect amount of vibrato despite her age, blended and melded with Gavin’s dry gritty baritone to create something heartbreakingly beautiful.

The melody rose and fell, weaving a spell throughout the room. When they got to the second verse, Gavin took the harmony and deepened the richness of the sound.

Helpless against the pull of his voice, she placed her hand on his shoulder. Zings of pleasure raced up her arm when he wrapped his warm hand around hers.

What was it between them? They’d only known each other a few days, but the moment he whispered in her ear in Vegas, there’d been something linking them together. Was this what it was like for her mother when she met Mr. Right Now in the Stop-n-Shop? The instant connection that went beyond allure straight to the bone and blood of her being.

Ridiculous, a bunch of romanticized crap. She needed to get her head out of the clouds. The real world didn’t work that way. There were rules to life and when people ignored them everyone got hurt.

“Momma? Where are you goin’?”

“Scarlett, Momma’s found the most wonderful man and I’m leaving on a great adventure.”

“But what about me?”

Her mother stopped packing and stared at her. “Darlin’ don’t you want me to be happy?”

“Yes, but can’t you be happy here…with me? You’re supposed to be with me. It’s a rule.”

“Oh, my sweet girl, sometimes you have to break the rules for love and happiness. You remember what I’m sayin’, you hear me?”

With that priceless piece of advice, Mary Kelly walked out of her daughter’s life forever.

She’d remembered, alright. Every step of her life was premeditated, made in the exact opposite direction of her impetuous mother’s life. Tightly controlled decisions to ensure respectability and safety ruled her existence. How was it then, she found herself in the precise spot she’d worked so diligently to avoid?

She flinched at the thought and slipped her hand from Gavin’s. She bowed her head and averted her teary gaze from the room. Maybe they would think she was moved by the melody.

When the song ended, the place erupted into enthusiastic applause. Some whooped and hollered their approval. Gavin rose and kissed Honey’s cheek, then offered her his hand. The two bowed to the audience, accepting their accolades like the seasoned performers they were. One was an international superstar, the other a hometown favorite who’d sung at more weddings and funerals than anyone else in three counties.

The duo made their way to the front door, declining requests for another song. Scarlett followed, a forgotten footnote in the wake of their success. Despite her dark thoughts, a smile tugged at her lips as she witnessed the camaraderie between her husband and aunt.

Once they were outside, Honey grinned up at Gavin. “Good move gettin’ us out of there. Always leave ’em wanting more. You remember that when you play your concerts.”

He winked and slung a tattooed arm around her aunt’s shoulder. “I’ll write it down when we get home.”

From the corner of her eye, she spied Marjorie Sanders and several of her church cronies scrutinizing the whole scene. A kernel of resentment nudged its way into her heart. How dare they judge her…or Gavin? They didn’t know him, and for that matter, they didn’t know her.

The accusations of recklessness hurled at Gavin by the reporters yesterday shifted to the front of her mind. His desperation to be seen differently had driven him to offer to pay her, a virtual stranger, to stay married to him. They weren’t so different, the two of them, both trying to outrun the ghosts of their past.

Gavin glanced back and extended his hand. “You with me, Red?”

She placed her hand in his. “I’m with ya, rock star.”