Son of a Preacher Man Read online

  Over coffee and tiramisu, J.T. filled her in on the rest of the townsfolk and their doings, who had married whom and who had moved away. As he told her stories of the ebb and flow of life in Dale, she realized she had no idea what went on in the lives of the people who lived in the apartment next door to her. If she dropped dead in her kitchen, the only ones who would notice would be the people she worked with. Okay, Sandra would miss her, but who else?

  She shook off the maudlin thoughts. There was a reason she’d moved to New York City. She didn’t want everyone knowing her business. She was happy in her job and her life. Maybe she was surrounded by strangers, but at least they weren’t calling her trash or whore. No one knew how she’d grown up, nor did they care. There was a lot of freedom in that.

  J.T. signaled for the check. Nadya thought about fighting him for it—her salary was easily double his—but one look from him and she leaned back. He might have changed a great deal over the years, but she was pretty sure his pride hadn’t decreased.

  Nadya glanced around at the almost-empty restaurant as they were leaving and noticed it was close to midnight. Where had the time gone?

  “Geez, time flies. You’d better get me to the hotel so you can get home. It’s a long ride back to Dale, especially at night.”

  “I can handle it.” He held the door to the pickup truck open for her. As he walked around to the driver’s side, she wondered if he’d expected to spend the night with her. A little thrill zipped along her spine at the thought, but she tamped it down. That was one complication she didn’t need right now.

  The drive to the hotel was a short one, and they passed it in companionable silence. J.T. had the radio tuned to a country station, but Nadya wasn’t paying any attention to it. Her focus was on the larger-than-life male next to her. J.T. seemed to fill all the space in the otherwise roomy cab. She could swear she felt the heat coming off him and smell the spiciness of his soap.

  When he reached forward to turn up the volume on the radio, she startled slightly. “Do you recognize this song?” he asked.

  Nadya listened for a minute. She hadn’t heard country in a long time. The song had been popular when they were in high school. “Is that ‘Fall into Me’? I haven’t heard that in years.”

  “It was our prom song, remember?”

  “I didn’t go to the prom.” She couldn’t afford a prom dress, and she refused to wear one of the hand-me-downs from the Goodwill.

  “You didn’t miss much. The gym was decorated with about a thousand streamers that ended up all over the lawn. Most of the girls spent the night either in the bathroom fixing themselves or crying. The guys all stood around feeling stupid in their good suits. The most exciting part was when Tucker Brown puked on Principal Goodwin’s shoes.”

  “Sounds like loads of fun.” Mary Ellen had said as much, except she’d added that her date tried to grope her in the car on the way there, then ignored her when she wouldn’t let him get to second base.

  “Look, I know it’s none of my business, but I think you should see what your father had to say. Read his letter, let Hornblower do his lawyer bit and then make a decision. It isn’t going to matter to anyone but you what’s in that letter.”

  “I don’t know. It just feels…weird.”

  “Like you’d be betraying your mama?”

  “Close, but not quite.” She couldn’t put her finger on exactly why she didn’t want to read that letter. “More like I’ve done fine so far—why should I mess up a good thing?”

  “It’s your decision. Just know if you need some moral support, I’m around.” He pulled into a parking place at the hotel instead of just stopping by the front door.

  “Thanks, for that and for a great night. I really enjoyed myself.” She smiled at him but doubted he could see in the darkness. There was a street light in another row of the parking lot, but it didn’t reach where they were stopped.

  “I owed you one. Think about what I said.”

  “I will.” She leaned over to give him a peck on the cheek, a move she had perfected over many first dates, but J.T. had other ideas.

  Before she could back away, J.T. slid his fingers through her hair and held her in place while his mouth took hers in a kiss that curled her toes. He didn’t try to ram his tongue down her throat or mash her lips against her teeth. He merely destroyed her with his tenderness.

  Her seatbelt was still fastened so she couldn’t lunge forward, but boy, did she want to. His lips caressed hers, teasing her mouth open until his tongue traced the sensitive inner flesh. Heat flared between them, igniting the air in the cab. Even though his hands never strayed from her hair, her nipples hardened beneath her halter top. She could feel herself getting damp and hot between her legs. The urge to climb on top of him and take the kiss deeper was almost overwhelming.

  “Think about that too,” he said as he pulled away with a final nip to her lower lip.

  “There’s not much chance I’ll forget it.” Her hands shook as she unbuckled herself and eased out of the truck. She was half afraid her legs wouldn’t hold her and she’d fall flat on her face. Now wouldn’t that be a classy exit?

  With her head spinning, she barely registered that J.T. didn’t drive off until she went through the lobby doors. It was probably a good thing he hadn’t pushed her about coming up to her room. The way she was feeling right now, all her thoughts of not complicating things wouldn’t have been worth spit.

  Her room was stuffy, so she bumped the air conditioning up a notch. She should probably take a cold shower before she climbed into bed, because she had a feeling more of the heat was being generated by her than by the Georgia summer.

  Well, she learned one thing for sure. J.T. McBride hadn’t lost any of his moves. Or his potency. She’d have to be even more careful now than when she was eighteen or she’d lose her panties just as fast.

  Chapter Five

  Nadya woke up hot, sweaty and frustrated. The frustrated part she could lay at J.T.’s door, the hot was due to the steamy temperature in the room. She kicked off the clinging sheet and marched over to the thermostat. Instead of a temperature, it flashed three dotted lines. She was no engineer, but something told her that wasn’t good.

  She pressed the button on the phone for the front desk, then waited impatiently for someone to finish assisting other guests. While she listened to how she could earn more points and a free night’s stay, she clicked on the television to the local news station.

  The region was expecting record temps with no break in sight. Shocker. Protesters were marching at the entrance gate to the state forest. Nadya was only listening with half an ear, but it seemed like they were up in arms about a proposed development that would abut the forest. She remembered Mary Ellen mentioning something about that yesterday. Violence in downtown Atlanta, the Braves won a squeaker, blah, blah, blah.

  Finally, someone picked up the phone.

  “Front desk, how may I assist you today?” a harried voice asked.

  “Hi, I’m in room 1088 and there seems to be a problem with the air conditioning in my room.”

  “Yes, Ms. Sarov, I’m afraid there’s been a problem with the climate-control system. We have maintenance workers dealing with it now, but it may be a day or two before it’s fixed.”

  “No air conditioning for a day or two? In this heat?”

  “Yes. We’re terribly sorry for your inconvenience and will do all we can to book you into our sister hotel in Strasburg. Would you like me to make that reservation now?”

  Strasburg was an hour-and-a-half farther south. If she meant to stay in Georgia for any length of time, it would be a three-hour trip to Dale. “Let me get back to you.”

  She hung up the phone and sat heavily on the bed. What to do? She could drive up to Dale today and say goodbye to Mary Ellen and J.T. and forget all about the letter Hornblower had. Or she could take Mary Ellen up on her offer to stay at her place and buy herself some more time to make a decision.

  If she wasn’t going to
find out what her father had to say to her, there was no point in staying in Georgia. She could take that road trip she’d considered or book a vacation somewhere with cool breezes and palm trees and nice men who brought her drinks.

  Or she could stay and risk the unknown.

  Nadya wasn’t a big fan of the unknown.

  Her phone chimed with an incoming text message. It was from Mary Ellen.

  U still able to come 4 dinner 2nite?

  The moment of truth. Her finger hovered over the reply box. Did she stay or did she go? J.T.’s words floated back through her mind. If she ignored her father’s words, did it hurt him or her?

  Considering he was dead, she doubted it would bother him much. And it didn’t mean she would suddenly feel this amazing bond between herself and her father. All it would be was information. She’d been in the contract business enough to know that the person who had the most information usually had the upper hand.

  Before she could lose her nerve, she texted back. U bet! Mind if I stay over?

  She hit send and jumped off the bed. Okay, no big. She could stay for just the night, which actually made sense if she was going to have a drink or two. If things went well, she could play it by ear and stay for a little longer, at least until the hotel got its air conditioning fixed.

  Her phone chimed again.

  Squeeeeeeee!!!!!!! Can’t wait!

  Butterflies danced in the pit of her stomach, and she decided to hold off before making any more decisions. Over the years, she’d learned the wisdom of taking things one step at a time instead of jumping in headfirst. She could put off calling Hornblower for another day. For now, she’d shower and check out of the hotel then go shopping for something for Mary Ellen and the boys, since they were the closest she’d get to nephews.

  It was almost four before Nadya got up to Dale. While shopping for toys and a belated house-warming present, she’d found the cutest little boutique and picked up a bracelet for Sandra as well as a halter-top sundress for herself. The white eyelet dress showed off her tan and her curves, and she loved the daisies along the hem. She found a pair of wedges that had daisies on the straps that wrapped around the ankle. The outfit was cool and feminine and too cute to pass up so she wore it out of the store. She’d instantly felt more comfortable than she had in her blouse and slacks, even if they were summer weight.

  By far, her favorite purchases of the day had to be the big hoop earrings and bangle bracelets she’d found. With her hair piled on her head because of the heat, the earrings gave her a bit of sparkle. The bangles chimed whenever she moved her arm and gleamed against her olive-toned skin.

  It had been a while since she’d worn less-than-conservative jewelry, and she missed how much fun it was. There were hundreds of places in the city that sold costume jewelry, maybe when she got back she’d pick up some things for when she wasn’t dressing for work.

  She didn’t have to be at Mary Ellen’s until five o’clock, so she decided to drive around the town a bit. Maybe she’d stop in at the library and see how it had changed. The library had been her sanctuary almost as much as her spot by the creek. Whenever the barbs from the other girls had been too much to bear, or when she’d felt left out and angry, she’d retreat to the coolness of the library and lose herself in a book.

  The library was between the elementary school and the secondary school. With a town as small as Dale, the secondary school held grades six through twelve. There had only been twenty kids in her graduating class, and except for J.T., she’d known them all since kindergarten.

  As she turned down School Street, her heart sank to see the secondary school boarded up. The library was closed as well, but a sign in the front indicated it would re-open in August. How small had the town gotten that it couldn’t support a secondary school and a library? She’d have to ask Mary Ellen tonight.

  The turnoff to Mary Ellen’s neighborhood was just up School Street, so Nadya kept driving. She’d be early, but there really wasn’t anywhere else to go. Quite purposely, she’d avoided driving down Main Street in front of the police station and Hornblower’s office.

  Tears came to Nadya’s eyes as she pulled into Mary Ellen’s driveway. She’d spent a lot of time at this house as a kid and had some wonderful memories. Mrs. Farley had taken plenty of flak for allowing her daughter to be friends with gypsy trash.

  If the Farleys hadn’t owned the only grocery store for miles, Mrs. Farley could have been ostracized by the good ladies of the church. The hypocrisy of the so-called God-fearing ladies was something she and her mama argued about. Growing up a gypsy, Talaitha had seen her fair share of “God-fearing” churchgoers asking for curses to be put on their neighbors or blaming the gypsies for perceived curses. To her, it was to be expected from the gadzé.

  Nadya wasn’t quite as understanding. She’d longed to publicly call out women like Orleane Campbell who would sniff and make comments like, “You better count your change drawer with this one working for you,” when she came into the store. Yet, on Sunday she’d be out in front of the church selling baked goods to raise money for the “less fortunate”.

  Even with the cushion of time and maturity, thinking about the last day at the cabin with Pansy and Orleane still pissed her off. She figured they were still in Dale, although neither Mary Ellen nor J.T. had mentioned them. Somehow she didn’t think the Campbells would move somewhere they wouldn’t be the big fish in a small pond.

  She parked her car behind a green minivan with a Plant a Tree bumper sticker and left the spot next to it open, assuming it was for Bill. As she unloaded the packages out of her trunk, she saw a towheaded boy with the biggest blue eyes she’d ever seen staring at her from the screen door. A shorter version, wearing only a diaper and a Batman cape, ran into him and laughed as they both bounced off the screen.

  “Hunter William Michaels! You get over here and get dressed this instant!” Mary Ellen marched to the door holding a pair of pint-sized shorts and a T-shirt. Her hands fluttered around her face when she saw Nadya standing on the walk with bags in her arms.

  “Oh. Hi, Nad. Since when do you show up early for anything? You were always ten minutes late.”

  The younger boy, who Nadya figured was Hunter, clung to Mary Ellen’s leg and popped a thumb into his mouth. The older boy, who must be Billy, continued to look at her like she was an alien species.

  “It must be the influence of those New Yorkers. Time is money and all that.”

  “I was hoping for an extra few minutes to make it look like a bomb hadn’t gone off in the house. Well, come on in out of the heat before you melt. What were you thinking wearing white to a house with two boys? Although it is darling. I saw the perfect necklace to go with it. A gal sells her jewelry on consignment at the store—remind me tomorrow and I’ll show you.”

  Nadya juggled the bags in her arms and wheeled her suitcase up the wide porch steps. The swing looked newly painted, and a fan spun lazily over a wicker loveseat and table set. Geraniums wilted a bit in window boxes and pots but added a splash of color and welcome to the white porch.

  “God, it’s like nothing’s changed. I keep expecting your mom to yell for me to close the door before the flies get in.”

  “We’ve redone some of the inside, but I couldn’t improve on Mama’s gardens, so I left them as they were. Sometimes she takes pity on me and weeds the beds when she comes on Sundays. Oh! I was just on the phone with her, and I told her about you coming for a visit. She said if you leave before Sunday you’d better stop in and see her or she’ll follow you to New York and tan your hide.”

  “I will absolutely make sure I see her before I go back to New York. I owe your mama an awful lot. I don’t think I ever thanked her for standing up to everyone so we could be friends. That wasn’t an easy thing to do.”

  Mary Ellen wiped tears from under her eyes even as she wrestled a wiggling Hunter into his clothes. “Will you stop saying stuff like that? I’m already a watering pot with all these pregnancy hormones flooding my syst
em. I don’t need you making me worse.”

  She sniffed again then set Hunter on his feet. “You two go on and watch TV. Dinner will be a while yet.” She shooed them off to the den before grabbing a bag out of Nadya’s arms. “I usually don’t let them watch more than an hour a day, but this will give us a chance to talk for a few minutes uninterrupted.”

  “Is there anything I can help you with?” Nadya asked, leaving her suitcase by the door but taking the other bags to the kitchen with her. “I picked up some chocolate éclairs and some wine. And this.” She handed Mary Ellen the beautifully wrapped package.

  “Go on with you. Why did you bring me a present?”

  “Because I missed your last twelve birthdays, your wedding and your house warming. I have a lot to make up for. Open it. When I saw it, I thought of you.”

  “Well, if you insist. You know how I love presents.” Mary Ellen sat at the wide farmhouse table and carefully pulled back the ribbon and the tape. When she got to the box, she opened it with all the care of a brain surgeon, pulling the tissue-paper-wrapped object out slowly.

  “Oh my. This is beautiful. Just like you used to have on your porch.” She held the glass ball up to the light. Swirls of blue formed waves inside the clear ball.

  “I remember you used to ask my mama about them, and she told you they were for protection, so I thought I’d get one for your house.”

  “Here I go again.” She sniffed and pulled Nadya in for a hug.

  “Look at this section here. Doesn’t it look like a mother holding a child? That’s why I had to get it for you.”

  “It does. It’s perfect. I’m gonna hang it right here in the window over the sink so it’ll catch the morning sun.” She removed a wind chime that was on a hook and hung the glass ball so the mother-and-child swirl faced the kitchen.

  “Doesn’t it look like it always belonged there? I love it.”

  “I’m glad. Can I help with anything? I’m not a cook, but I can make a world-class salad.”