Rekindled Dreams (12 page)

She moved close and covered his hands with hers. “Finn, you have to get me out. Can’t you pay a bond or something? I’m good for the money. Being cooped up is driving me nuts. I must be claustrophobic or something.” She pushed away and resumed her circuit, her long dress twisting around her legs as she moved.

His gaze followed her every movement. “Tell me what happened. You resisted being arrested, but over what?”

“You won’t believe this.” She waved her hands in the air and then faced him, hands on hips. “I’m walking along, minding my own business, and all of a sudden, a police car blocks my path. Then this stupid deputy is grilling me, asking me to prove who I am. Really? Besides, he was only Dwayne, you know.” She paused to take a breath.

“I just talked to him.”

“I used to babysit the jerk, if you believe that. But the point is, I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I was just walking through town.” As she spoke the last few words, her fist slapped her open palm. “I promised you I would keep a low profile and not draw any attention to myself, especially after this morning.”

She ducked her head and her voice quieted. “And I didn’t want you involved. So I refused to give him the address of where I’m staying. I promised to be a good pedestrian and walked on. Then he stepped in front of me, and I just brushed past him.”

At her mention of not involving him, guilt shot through him. Maybe his earlier warning had been too stern. At the time, he’d meant behavior that fed into the Gray Ladies’ rumor about her health. He had no idea keeping his name out of a minor incident would escalate into an arrest. “He says you shoved him.”

“Oh, really?” Her eyes blazed. “Is that why he pulled his gun?”

“A gun? He didn’t mention that.” Adrenaline shot through him as he pivoted and started back toward the front office.

“Please,
Finnian.” Vena’s voice trembled and rose in pitch. “You might make it worse. Don’t leave me.”

His gaze flicked between the doorway and her sad face, his emotions torn between getting an answer from the deputy and comforting her. Seeing the haunted expression in her eyes, he softened. Locked behind those steel bars, she appeared so small and vulnerable. His chest ached, and he ran a hand over his jaw, a jumble of thoughts flashing through his mind. “Maybe I can call someone. My old buddy, Horace Miller, is still on the town council.”

“Really?” Hope loosened her frown. “I remember Horace. He was class president. Do you think he could help?”

“Excuse me, Mr. Quaid, Ms. Fenton.” A tentative female voice sounded from the doorway.

Finn recognized the female cadet from the outer office.

“Deputy Mullen just got off the phone with Sheriff Andrews. The sheriff’s getting all sorts of calls at his house about the
pris—uh, Ms. Fenton. They are disturbing his evening off.” The woman stepped into the room, keys rattling in her hand. “He’s releasing you, ma’am.”

Vena rushed to the door and waited. “I’m ready.”

“You can go.” Cadet Green unlocked the door and pulled it open. “As long as Mr. Quaid vouches for your character and signs a statement promising to bring you to the hearing.”

“What hearing?” Vena grabbed the bars and pulled back the door until it slammed with a clank. “You mean this farce isn’t over?”

Finn covered her hands with his, noting how cold hers felt. “Vena, you were arrested. There has to be a court appearance of some kind. You’ll go before a judge and make a statement, apologize, if need be, and that’ll be it.”

“But that’s not right.” She jutted out her chin. “I won’t agree to those terms. I’m staying right here.”

“What?” Finn tensed. “Let me take you back to The Shamrocks where you can rest.”

“Not if I have to apologize.” She glared and whispered, “Damn it, Finn, I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m standing up for my rights.”

Vena had to pick this week to defend the constitution? Three days ago, his life had seemed full enough. He’d spent his time changing plumbing fixtures and sanding off years of accumulated paint with only one decision to make about his future. In the intervening hours, he’d added a sham engagement, solved the riddle of Vena’s mental health, justified her presence under his roof to what felt like half the town, dressed up in a costume and acted out what could only be described as a seduction scene, and learned enough about the woman to be thoroughly interested.

Now, that very same woman wanted to make a political stand. Every man had his limit, and she’d pushed him to his. Rigid with frustration, he stepped closer and pinned her with a dark stare. “Vena, the other night…” Had only seventy-two hours elapsed since he let her back into The Shamrocks?

He lowered his voice to a whisper, “Your exact words were, ‘you’ll never know I’m here.’ Just now you said this whole thing started because you didn’t want to get me involved.” His voice rose, and he gestured at the room around them. “Well, take a good look around—I’m the one you called, I’m the one fighting to get you out of that cell. I am involved.” He fought against grabbing the metal bars separating them. “And if you haven’t yet realized it, I’m at the end of my patience. Do me a favor, and stop this citizen’s-rights crap. Let me take you home.”

With each statement, the defiance drained from her stance, and guilt filled her eyes. Defeated, she slumped onto the nearby cot and nodded.

Finn closed his eyes, fighting for composure. One hurdle down. He hoped they’d exit the building without any more hysterics. As soon as he obtained her agreement, his indignation dissolved.

“If that’s a yes,” Cadet Green spoke, “I’m opening the door again.” She did so and scurried back to the office.

Finn squeezed through the opening and knelt next to Vena, wishing he had chosen gentler words. “Hey, Vena, we can go. Stand up, Elfie.” With one hand on an elbow and the other around her waist, he eased her up and guided her out to the office. She leaned against him and, in that moment, he enjoyed being there for her.

Deputy Mullen waited at the counter with several forms and a basket holding her belt, a silver necklace, and a pack of gum. He placed two sheets of paper in front of her and laid a pen between them on the counter. “Sign here and here, ma’am, and you’re free to go.”

Vena straightened her spine, scribbled her name on the indicated line, and grabbed her belongings. Without a word, she stomped to the door.

Finn quickly read over the release form Dwayne pushed toward him and signed it. “You can reach us at The Shamrocks about the hearing date.
G’night.” He opened the outer door and pointed out where his truck was parked.

Head held high, Vena marched across the sidewalk, tripped on the parking block, and then climbed into the passenger side of the truck.

Finn noticed the determined set of her expression and silently cheered the return of her fighting spirit. As he got in the car, he saw she was huddled against her door. With a gentle move, he reached to touch her shoulder. “Vena…”

Before he said more, she launched herself into his arms, a wet cheek pressed against his neck. “Thanks, Finn, I’ve never b-been through anything so h-horrible. You’re my knight in shining armor.”

At the sound of her sobs, his anger evaporated, and he gathered her into a tight embrace. Their bodies melted together, and he became aware how her shuddering sobs caused her breasts to move against his chest. He raised a hand to smooth the hair from her damp cheeks, and his hand wrapped around the back of her head.

Words of comfort came from his mouth, but he wasn’t aware of actually saying anything important. After a few moments, they had the desired calming effect, and Vena’s sobs quieted. Finn had no idea how long they sat in the parking lot. Didn’t matter. He might only be a pretend fiancé but, at that moment, nothing was more important than
holding this intriguing woman.

PULLING INTO THE SHAMROCK’S
driveway, Finn realized he’d maneuvered through the streets of Dry Creek on autopilot. All his thoughts focused on the woman resting her head against his arm.

He wanted to offer more than a reassuring hug and a napkin for her tears. If he was honest, what he really wanted was to take her to the seclusion of his room and make her forget all about bigheaded deputies and the unpredictability of the outside world.

The sight of a fragile, uncertain Vena had unnerved him. This was not the self-assured woman who’d talked her way into The Shamrocks in the middle of the night, or the confident, handy person who’d tackled the bathroom drain. Although he enjoyed teasing the strong Vena, Finn was surprised to learn he ached to protect the insecure Elfie.

He didn’t want to worry. She could blow holes in the groundwork of the political campaign now being organized in Helena. How feasible was carrying out his original plan to announce their engagement? Had too much damage been done by her arrest? Since theirs wasn’t a real engagement, the positive spin on tonight’s incident would only be a temporary cover-up.

When he visualized James Burtell’s reaction to the news of her arrest, and what explanation Finn could make on her behalf, he shuddered. Maybe the best thing would be to create distance from her and the bad press, and locate another woman who would agree to stand in.

Possibly one of the casserole ladies.

He shuddered at the thoughts—so typical of the politics he disliked the most.

“Why are you just sitting here?” She sat upright and examined the interior of the truck’s cab.

He glanced sideways and spotted her defeated expression. “Today’s been long, Vena.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” she mumbled. “Nothing like getting arrested to top off the thrills.”

He leaned his forearms on the steering wheel and stared straight ahead. “I’d hoped everything would be over when we got home. Judging by the line of parked cars, half the Ladies’ Hospital Auxiliary must be camped out in The Shamrocks’ front room.”

Vena’s head whipped around, and she peered out the windshield. “Maybe they’re having a meeting at a neighbor’s house? At Ruth’s and
Tootie’s.”

As he removed the truck key and opened the door, Finn shook his head. “I heard
Tootie say something about no decent food in Dry Creek’s jail and that maybe she’d make coffee and sandwiches. Looks like she called in reinforcements and a three-course meal awaits us.” He slid out the driver’s door and started around the front of the vehicle.

She slouched in her seat, peeking over the bottom of the side window. “I can’t go in there. I’m too embarrassed to face anyone right now.”

As she spoke, the front door opened and Ruth Maguire stepped outside.

“Maybe you can tell them I’m exhausted, and I’ll sneak through the back door.”

Several more gray-haired, bespectacled ladies peeked through the lace curtains. “Too late. You’ve been spotted.”

She groaned and ducked lower, almost slithering off of the seat onto the floorboards.

He stuck his head inside her open window. “Might as well hustle your cute little behind in there and get this over with. Those ladies won’t let you sneak around to the back door.” When he connected with her skeptical gaze, he winked. “Be honest. Look them straight in the eyes. And, for both of our sakes, don’t dig the hole any deeper.”

****

The confidence in Finn’s words registered in Vena’s numb brain. She straightened in the seat, gazed into his sky blue eyes, swam there for just a moment to gain strength, and then opened the passenger door. “You’re brilliant. This whole thing started because someone misunderstood what they thought they’d heard.” Stepping onto the driveway, she squared her shoulders and turned her attention to the front of The Shamrocks.

By now, half a dozen women waited at the edge of the porch, hands clasped at their waists, staring in her direction. A couple of them waved and called out her name.

Then the awful realization hit, and her stomach clenched. She would have to talk in front of all those women. Childhood memories of stuttering flashed across her mind. She knew she’d freeze up. “You go first, Finnian. I can’t handle this by myself.”

Finn extended an elbow, and she latched onto it. She hoped he would keep her coherent over the next thirty minutes. What would she say? Especially when she wasn’t sure how the whole thing had started. Good
ol’ Dwayne had been tight-lipped on the drive to the police station, unwilling to let things slide for old time’s sake. The more she reminded him of the occasions she’d been his babysitter, the stiffer his posture became. The guy hadn’t changed—he had no sense of humor.

The tittering of high-pitched voices rolled down the stairs and surrounded them like a cloud, threatening to choke her.

“Did he handcuff you?”

“You poor thing, you look pale.”

“What did you do?”

“I saw him haul you out of the car. Did he leave bruises?”

“What’s it like—being inside the joint?”

The voices came from all sides without a breath between for answers, and Vena cringed, her stomach knotting even tighter. These women watched too many police dramas. In slow waves, the panic she’d experienced while inside the cell returned. Her ears rang, and black spots swam through her vision. She must have swayed, because she felt Finn’s hand over hers as he pried her fingers loose from his arm.

“Ladies, calm down and give us some room, please.” His smile encompassed the entire group. “Let’s all go inside. I’m sure Vena would like to sit and have something to eat. Then she’ll be glad to answer your questions, at least for a few minutes.”

Vena watched as most of the wome
n scurried inside and disappeared toward the kitchen. Wow, Finn was like a commander positioning his troops. She stepped up the last stair and met Ruth’s steely gaze, the solitary person remaining.

Ruth extended both hands and grasped hers. “You okay, Vena?”

The woman’s voice was gruff. Too surprised to speak, Vena blinked and nodded. She followed Ruth to the living room sofa and sank into a corner. Everywhere she looked, gray and blue-tinted heads were turned in her direction.

Before anything else could be said,
Tootie rushed into the room, wringing the hem of her apron. “Oh, my sweet Elfie. You’re safe. Let me look at you.” She plunked down on the sofa and pulled Vena into a smothering hug. “At my age, I definitely should have known better. Can you ever forgive me?”

Vena struggled to sit up but
Tootie’s hug was too strong. Finally, she relented and leaned against the woman’s softness.

Tootie
stroked her hair. “I regret saying anything about your behavior to Blanche. But you were talking so strangely. That woman doesn’t have a lick of sense. She doesn’t know the difference between an idle chatty comment and a real clue about danger. I never believed she’d turn it into a police matter. I am so sorry.”

“It’s all right,
Tootie.” Vena barely got out the muffled sentence, but didn’t care. Tootie’s warm embrace and caring words made her feel treasured.

“Hush, dearie, save your strength. Here are the ladies with some refreshments.”

Tootie’s hug relaxed enough for Vena to sit forward and accept a plate with an egg sandwich and potato salad. She glanced around and saw Finn sitting across the room, already forking food into his mouth. The poor man must have missed dinner by rushing to the jail.

He saluted with his fork, pointing it first at her and then at her plate.

Vena smiled at the woman who handed her a tall glass of lemonade. “Ladies, this is wonderful. Thanks for your time and trouble. The cadet told me about all your phone calls to the sheriff. The support was reassuring, and is probably the reason for my quick release.” Maybe that would be enough, and she could eat her supper and go to bed. “I really appreciate everything you’ve done.”

Murmurs of “you’re welcome” and “think nothing of it” came from all directions.

A thin woman across the room stood. “Tell us, Vena, what does being interrogated feel like? Did the deputy use a bright light like on
Dragnet
?”

Is that show still being broadcast?
Vena choked on her bite of pickle and egg and had to wash it down with several gulps of tart lemonade. Tootie must have used real lemons. “I-I wasn’t inter-er—questioned. The deputy just p-put me in a c-cell.”

“How awful.”
Tootie patted Vena’s thigh. “But what did you do?”

Vena took several more sips while trying to relay a message to Finn with her eyes. Super-heroes came in all shapes and sizes—hers wore faded jeans and a black T-shirt.

Unfortunately, his attention was on finishing his meal, and he didn’t respond to the nonverbal call for help.

“You know, I’m still figuring that one out. He asked me to show identification.” She swallowed more lemonade, the tart beverage tasting better with each sip. Talking with these nice ladies wasn’t so bad. “Can you believe it? I’m walking down an alley, minding my own business, and I’m asked to show ID. I’m sure his request violated my rights.”

“Never heard anything like it.”

“Imagine.”

She scooted to the front of the sofa cushion. “You all know me, I grew up here. I used to babysit that Dwayne Mullen. And he acted like he didn’t remember me.” She wagged her pointer finger for emphasis. “I told him I was the babysitter who caught him stickin’ a frog in my purse. And I remembered he slept with Chewbacca, ya know, the hairy critter inna
Star Wars
movies?” She sipped more lemonade and set the glass on the coffee table. “Do y’all know what he did ness?”

A titter of excitement went around the ladies who sat on wooden chairs, and then spread through the living room and entry hall. Gray-haired ladies of all shapes and manner of dress leaned forward, their bespectacled gazes alight.

Vena glanced around at the expectant faces. This was easy. Why had she worried about talking to these sweet little ladies? She stood and reached behind her to grasp the sofa arm for balance. “Whoops. Not t’ worry, ladies, I’m jussa li’l tired. Where was I?” She pushed her damp hair off her forehead and reached for her glass. Empty. Her cheeks heated, and she fanned the neckline of her dress to create a breeze. “Ish anyone else hot? A refill, please?”

Where’s Finn
? Why wasn’t he here? She scanned the room, narrowing her eyes to bring the faces into focus.

A lady pressed a full glass into her hand. “You were telling us what Dwayne did.”

Taking several swallows, Vena rested a foot on the coffee table and leaned an elbow on her leg. “Ah, yes. Affer he dragged me inna the building, he tried t’ fingerprint me and take my shug mot, I mean mug shot.”

“What do you mean ‘tried’?”

“Hey, I went to college. I saw
Ghandi
.” She thumped a hand flat on her chest. “I’ve used non-violent resh, res…I’ve protested before.” Again, she paused, thinking she’d have to remember this conversation and tell Anita for a future book plot. The feeling of power she felt as they all hung on her every word was overwhelming. “I refused t’ open my fist for the prints and then went limp when he tole me t’ stand. The camera’s bolted to the tripod so he couldna get the pichur. Boy, you shoulda seen ‘is face. Was he maaaaad.”

****

Ignoring the buzz of the female conversation, Finn swallowed the last of his sandwich and wandered into the kitchen in search of a beer. He’d never had a taste for lemonade. Best to keep his distance from the estrogen-laden air of the living room. He grabbed a longneck from the refrigerator, twisted off the cap, and chugged several swallows. By the time he’d finished the brew, he’d cleaned up the mess he’d made while searching for his keys.

Vena must be doing okay with the ladies. From what he’d heard, she had no problem answering their questions. He wondered at her momentary panic before coming into the house. How could a person who acted so self-assured be tongue-tied in front of a few curious, friendly senior citizens? Her museum position must involve presentations, too.

Clapping and cheering broke out in the living room.

“Good for you, Vena.”

“Three cheers for Vena!”

What was she up to now? He strode across the kitchen and entered the living room, just in time to see Vena step onto the coffee table. Her cheeks were flushed pink, the hair around her face was damp, and her eyes shone like she was fevered. He watched her slug down the rest of her lemonade and proclaim, “
Tomowow we picket the powees stathun.”

Aw, hell.
Finn grabbed the dipper from the punch bowl, poured some into a cup, and tasted the lemonade. The back of his throat burned. Spiked. Tootie was up to her old tricks.

His statement about not digging the hole deeper resounded in his head. How to get Vena out of this gathering before anything more embarrassing happened. Long strides took him to the center of the room. He stood across from her and cleared his throat.

Her fist punched the air as she shouted, “Down wif police brutality.”

Finn stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled.