One True Heart (16 page)

T
UESDAY

Beau drove his stepmother to the cemetery and was surprised how few cars were there. Seven, eight counting the hearse. They waited until ten minutes after eleven before Beau finally nodded for Mr. Wright to start.

Beau walked Ruthie to one of the empty chairs in the first row and looked up to see his friends lining the back row. Ronny Logan, who used to feed him when he was seventeen and on his own. Mrs. Biggs and Martha Q had their tissues out ready to do their duty and cry. Even Harley from the bar was standing at the back of the tent. Noah and Reagan were there with little Utah asleep in Noah's arms. A few others stood around. Some he recognized as men from the church, but most were his friends or teachers he'd had in school. They'd come to be with him during this time.

Two men from the grounds staff of the cemetery filled in as pallbearers. They carried the casket to the stand over the open grave as Beau stood watching it all. The flowers looked nice over the wooden coffin. He had asked Mr.
Wright to find a preacher to say a few words. The young man didn't look twenty, but he read from the Bible and offered a prayer. He said he didn't know Melvin Yates but any preacher surely was on the fast train to heaven.

No one in the crowd said an amen to his thought.

When the preacher finished, Beau played a few songs. If one cell had still been alive in his father's body, Melvin would have pounded on the coffin for him to stop.

When Beau finished, he thanked everyone for coming and hugged them all except one woman standing several feet away in the morning shadows of an old elm. Tall, blond, and dressed in a black suit.

He glanced back toward her a few minutes later and she was gone.

Trouble. She'd come.

Finally, when everyone was gone, Beau stood beside Ruthie and watched the men from the funeral home lower his father into the ground. As the casket sank, Beau let go of all the anger he'd had. Who knew, maybe knowing how much his father hated his music was the one thing that kept him driving forward. Maybe in an odd way he owed his success to the old guy.

Ruthie didn't say a word on the drive back to the house. Beau offered to help any way he could, but she just said that her brother would be in tonight to drive her back to Kansas. The things she'd packed and set by the door wouldn't fill a trunk.

He hugged her good-bye, knowing he'd probably never see her again.

For a while he drove around. Several of his friends who'd moved away from Harmony had called, leaving messages about how sorry they were, but Beau didn't want to call them back. He wanted to be alone.

Finally, he stopped at Buffalo's Bar and did something he'd never done.

He ordered a drink, laid a hundred on the bar, and told Harley to keep them coming.

T
UESDAY

At four fifteen in the afternoon Johnny Wheeler walked out of the Harmony County Jail a free man. He'd gained six pounds on a body that needed the fat and felt like he'd aged eight years over the past eight days.

His lawyer, Rick Matheson, shook his hand on the steps and wished him a happy and peaceful life.

Johnny thanked Matheson, deciding if things had gone a different direction they might have been real friends. Rick had always been straight with him, even when days looked bad. “You were a good lawyer,” he managed to say. For a man who rarely thought to compliment anyone, Johnny was trying to say the right thing. “I don't plan to ever be in trouble again, but if I am, I'll call you. If you ever need me, I'll be there for you. I owe you, Matheson, and I'm a man who likes to pay his debts.”

Rick smiled, looking more like a college boy than a man three years into his career. “I'll do that, and you watch out for Scarlet. Last time I saw her she threatened to kill me.
There's no telling what she'd do to you. She also told me her boyfriend was worth big money and he'd have me disbarred for trying to blame the drugs on him.”

“You worried?”

“No. If every guy who made threats toward me decided to pay me a visit there would be a line around the building.” Rick patted Johnny on the shoulder. “Take care. I might need that favor sometime if Scarlet doesn't get you first.”

“I plan to be careful. I'm thinking of getting a guard dog, and an electric fence, maybe a guard tower. Something tells me she's not finished blaming me for the trouble Max is in.”

“The drugs were his. No telling how long he'd been storing shipments there.” Rick tugged his tie loose. “My cousin told me they found hard drugs in his glove box. He's mixed up in some bad stuff. How long have you known him?”

Johnny shrugged. “I don't know. Scarlet met him when she was dating around. He was new in town and needed a date to fund-raisers and fancy stuff. Scarlet told me she just went along for the fun of it. Said there was nothing between them.” Johnny barked a laugh. “Last time I saw them together she was right. There was nothing, including clothes.”

Rick shook his head. “Sorry about your marriage, John. You deserve better.”

Johnny didn't know about that. When he married Scarlet, he thought he was marrying up. She'd had a fancy condo in Austin that her parents had given her and told him she'd been a model in Dallas for a year. She used to complain that all he'd ever done in his life was play in the dirt. After they married and she found out the farm wasn't in his name she'd been so upset she'd gone shopping for a week.

Rick turned back toward the courthouse and Johnny walked over to the bookstore. He hoped his car was still parked in the back lot. He'd waded through a river of emotions in the past eight days. People he'd thought would always stand with him had disappeared. Family seemed more than willing to believe the worst about him.

On the up side, he'd made two new friends. Deputy Rogers had done his job with a kindness Johnny appreciated,
and the little fairy never stopped believing in him. She'd dropped by the jail every day just to remind him he was innocent.

He decided to walk through the bookstore, not around it. If Kare was there, he planned to thank her and hug her tight.

Mr. Hatcher was sitting at the counter reading and didn't look up when Johnny walked by. The dark green door to Kare Cunningham's tiny space was open. She was curled up around her computer studying something on the screen.

Johnny tapped on her door and she jumped, then looked up and saw him. A smile covered her face.

“You're out!” she shouted as her computer bumped against a pillow on the floor and she jumped toward him.

Johnny felt like he'd caught her in flight, and every sense exploded: the tinny jingle of necklaces, the silk of a dozen scarves floating around her, the smell of spices, the softness of her wet cheek as she hugged him.

He pressed his hand into all that curly hair and smiled, really smiled for the first time in years. He didn't want to talk to her, he just wanted to hold her for a minute and let time move on without them noticing.

She pulled away first and, to his surprise, he took the loss of her against him like a blow.

“I came by,” he hurried to say as she floated back to her corner. “I came to say thank you for visiting me and believing in me.”

“Oh, you're welcome. The thought of someone locked away who is innocent upsets me.” She giggled. “I guess it reminds me of my childhood.”

They were obviously going back to being strangers. Johnny had thought they had a bond. “I read all the books you gave me.”

She picked up her computer. “I know, you told me. I'm glad you liked them.” She reminded him of someone who'd been interrupted and had to get back to work. She was polite, friendly, but he'd thought there had been more between them.

“I thought, if you have time, we could go out to eat and celebrate.”

Kare looked up at him. “That is sweet, John, but I can't tonight. I'm very happy you're free. May peace follow you like a river forever flowing.”

Johnny decided he should go back to jail, walk out again, and start completely over. He must have taken a wrong step somewhere and walked into somebody else's life. She'd cared so much about him? Now she didn't even add
Maybe another night
to her excuse for turning him down. He had no idea what peace flowing like a river meant. It sounded like she'd read the line sometime in a fortune cookie and had been waiting years to use it.

Stop.
He almost slammed his palm into his forehead. She hadn't cared that much about him, she'd only cared that he was innocent and being charged. She was probably one of those people who worried about folks she didn't even know and global warming, or endangered frogs in the rain forest. Hell, he didn't even know where the rain forest was and he figured he'd have to be a vice president to understand global warming. How could he have thought they shared something special between them?

“Thanks again for all your help,” he managed, and walked out of her funny little office. One of the charms pasted to the door fell off as he exited, but he didn't stop to pick it up. She might get mad and take back her
river of peace
blessing.

All the way back to the farm he tried to figure out what had happened. Had he just imagined those big brown eyes looking at him with bedroom thoughts? How many times had she stretched out her arms as if trying to reach him across the table? Maybe he was right about thinking once that Kare was only interested in men behind bars. Now that he was out, she didn't seem interested at all.

Women. He'd never understand them. The hermit idea was looking better and better. If he raised chickens and bought a milk cow he could probably survive without ever going into town again. He was a farmer. If he could grow
cotton and wheat, he could grow his own food. His grandpa had. Maybe he'd drop by the senior citizens' center and ask Pops a few questions.

A half hour later when he walked into his empty house, he felt like screaming until his voice gave completely out.

He was going mad. He'd been married to Scarlet for three years and didn't miss her at all, but, darn, if he didn't miss his fairy. All the magic in the world had dried up and blown away like a tumbleweed and he was left with nothing but a handful of air. He felt like a man who'd been asleep all his life and someone accidentally woke him up in the middle of a dust storm.

Now there was no going back to sleep and he had no idea how to move forward.

T
UESDAY
NIGHT

Beau stumbled out of the bar after seven when most folks were coming in to eat dinner. He didn't want to be around people, yet he didn't want to be alone. He'd thrown up most of the alcohol he'd downed and decided he'd never bother with it again. The stuff tasted nasty going down and worse coming up.

Walking past his rented car and skirting the Blue Moon Diner, he headed down into the creek bed, Winter's Inn already in his sight. Maybe he'd sleep off the way he felt in the quiet little inn. Nothing else seemed to work.

It wasn't near dark yet, but the shadows crossed above him, making the old scar in the earth look like the entrance to a cave. He walked along the dried ground as it crackled beneath his boots. The town, six feet above, was all around him, but Beau felt totally alone. As he always did, he heard the beat of Harmony. At midnight when he walked it was a soft haunting melody but now the beat was alive, fast, hurried.

Music began to play in his head. A car's horn became a crashing cymbal. Wheels rolling across the uneven boards on a nearby bridge were the drums. Church bells chimed in and the rustle of the trees added bass.

Beau closed his eyes and circled around on the uneven ground, loving that the music he'd always heard brushed against his skin and settled in his soul.

For a moment he heard something rattling, sliding across the dried leaves along the sides of the creek. The noise didn't belong in his music. It wasn't part of the town.

Then the sound of a branch breaking registered a moment before something slammed into the back of Beau's head and he fell face first. Another blow landed against the side of his head as shattered lightning exploded in his brain.

The music stopped.