Born Innocent (26 page)

But Joe drove past the turn to her street. “You can call from the ranch.”

“
But, Joe—”

“
Your mother said she could handle things for you. Let her do it.”

“
Joe,” Claire argued as the car trundled over the bridge, “I told her I’d stop in as soon as we met with the sheriff.”

“
You can talk to her in twenty minutes. From the ranch.”

“
Why call when we can stop in person just as easily?” They were across the bridge. “Because if you stop now, you’ll just find some big problem that you’ll decide you have to solve. You don’t need any more problems right now.” Joe pulled up at the stop sign on the way out of town.

“
Don’t tell me what I need, please.” Claire tried to stay reasonable—she knew Joe was only thinking of her. But she felt as if the world was closing in on her. Now, even Joe seemed to think he had a right to tell her what to do. “Turn this car around, Joe.”

He said nothing, only turned left and drove up the hill that led out of town. Indignation knotted Claire’s stomach, but she saw the futility of arguing further right then. She sat back in her seat and kept her lips pressed tightly together as they drove the twisting dirt roads to the ranch.

When they arrived, she leapt out of the car and slammed the door behind her. Gonzo and Relay bounded up, and she was forced to settle them down and greet them before she was allowed to flounce into the house—an exercise in high drama that was somewhat spoiled because she had to wait at the door for Joe to unlock it.

Once inside, she went straight to the phone in the kitchen and dialed the motel. Her mother answered on the second

ring.

“
Snow’s Inn. How may I help you?”

“
Hello, Mother. It’s me.”

“
Claire! How are you?”

“
Fine. Just fine.” She studiously refused to look at Joe, who had followed her to the kitchen and was standing, watching her, in the doorway to the hall.

“
Are you at the ranch now?” her mother wanted to know.

“
Yes, we just got in.”

“
Are you all right, Claire? You sound a little strained. Did you see Dan?”

“
I’m okay, Mother. Really I am. And I spoke with the sheriff just a little while ago. The problem is... all worked out.”

“
I’m glad to hear that. But I thought you’d be stopping in here.”

“
I meant to, but Joe wanted to come right back here.”

“
Well, that’s no problem. Everything is fine here, anyway.”

“
Good. Tell me everything.”

“
Are you sure you want—”

“
Absolutely. I want to hear how things are going.”

“
Well, I’m doing quite well here, as a matter of fact.” Ella launched into a detailed explanation of the challenges she’d surmounted in the past few days. She’d put Verna right to work on the back bungalow. It was spotless now, all ready for Claire to decide what she wanted to do next about it. Oh, and speaking of Verna—the poor woman had been under the weather, she’d even called in sick today. But Ella had called Amelia and she was cleaning the rooms right now. Business was brisk. All the rooms were full, and Ella had taken several reservations for the coming months. She
had
had a little trouble with that couple in number three, but she’d gone and knocked on the door and told them to keep it quiet, or she’d have to ask them to leave. That had settled them down. Oh, and she’d had to write a few checks—to Eaton Slade, the handyman, who’d come in to fix a leaky faucet in number six, among other things. And to both Verna and Amelia—hadn’t payday been yesterday?

“
Yes, Mother. I forgot all about it. Thanks for taking care of it for me.”

“
You are very welcome. Oh. I almost forgot. Someone called from your lawyer’s office, to remind you that you’re supposed to meet with him at eight Monday morning, before the hearing. I told them you wouldn’t forget.” “Good.”

“
All right, then. That’s all the news here. Now, tell me all about your trip,” Ella cheerfully commanded.

Claire evaded. “We had a great time, but I’ll explain all about it later, when we can sit down and talk.”

Tactfully, her mother asked, “Then will you be staying at the ranch again tonight?”

Claire looked up, then, and right into Joe’s waiting eyes. She raised her chin. “No, Mother. Now that I think about it, I’ve decided it’s time I got my things together and came home.”

“
You have?” Ella sounded nonplussed. Clearly, Claire’s answer was not what she’d expected.

“
Yes. I think it’s time, really, that I took up my responsibilities again. Life goes on, after all.”

Ella asked if she was sure.

“
I am. I’ll be there soon.” Claire said goodbye and hung up.

The room seemed unnaturally quiet. Joe and Claire looked at each other.

Joe broke the silence. “What the hell? What’s going on?”

She was careful to stand very erect; he must know that she made her own decisions, that she was mistress of her own life. “I’m going home, Joe. I—I can’t hide here forever. It’s time I got back to my life.”

“
You’re angry, right? Because I didn’t take you to the motel before I brought you here?”

“
Yes. You had no right to do that. But that’s not why I’m going.”

“
Then why?”

“
I just told you—because it’s time I got back to my life.”
Ha,
a voice inside her head scoffed.
It’s time to do more than get back to your life. It’s time to tell him your secret...

But she just couldn’t do it. Not yet. She was a coward at heart.

“
Look, Claire.” He left the doorway and approached her, stopping at the edge of the table, across from her. “You don’t have to go anywhere.” He sounded so concerned, so caring. Would he sound that way when he learned what she was keeping from him? He continued, “Stay here. At least until Monday. Then, after the hearing, when you know...” He faltered. She understood. Just like everyone else, he wanted to make reality less ugly for her. “...where you stand, you can take it from there.”

She breathed deep. “I know where I stand, Joe. In very hot water. And I’m through pretending things are going to work out. It’s more than possible they won’t work out. Staying here is only hiding my head in the sand.”

Liar,
her outraged conscience accused.
You just want out, quick, so you don’t have to tell him. You’ll do anything right now, even give up a few more precious days with him, not to have to tell him. But be honest, with yourself at least, even if you insist on continuing your lies to him. You’re not leaving because he didn’t stop at the motel when you asked
him to. And you’re not leaving because you have to get back to your life. You’re leaving because you can’t bear to look this man in the face and say what has to be said....

She spoke frantically, to silence that condemning voice in her head. “Look, Joe. You’ve been wonderful. You’ve done more than any friend in the world could ever be expected to do. But I have to stop leaning on you. I have to stand on my own two feet and face what is happening to me.”

Joe swore under his breath. “All right. Fine. You want to go back to the motel, I’ll come with you.”

“
No.”

“
Why not?”

“
I told you. I have to get on with my life. No one can help me with that. I have to...straighten out my affairs, and I have to do it on my own.”

He stared at her. She felt that his eyes were trying to see into her head. “What the hell is going on here?”

“
I just... I have to go.” She marched straight toward him—it was the only way she could get to the hall that led to the bedroom. She prayed he wouldn’t try to stop her.

Her prayers were futile. He grabbed her arm and pulled her up against his chest. “What is this? Something strange is going on. What’s bothering you?”

I’m going to have your baby...
“
Nothing. Everything. Please. Let me go.”

“
Why won’t you talk to me?”

“
Joe. I mean it. Let me go.”

“
Damn it, Claire!”

“
Let me go!”

“
Tell me.”

“
Nothing. There is nothing.”

“
I ought to—”

“
Joe, you’re hurting me!”

For a moment more, he held her, his grip like a vise. And then, his eyes suddenly cold, he let her go.

She turned and went to the bedroom, where she swiftly gathered up everything of hers that wasn’t already in the suitcase in the car.

As she turned to leave, she met him coming in, carrying his own big duffel bag that he’d brought in from the car. He edged around her, as if she were someone he didn’t want to touch even in passing, and set the bag down by the closet.

She turned to go, hoping, praying, that she could escape before he said another word.

“
Claire,” he said from behind her.

She forced herself to face him once more.

He stood by the closet, his strong arms crossed over his broad, hard chest. “Whatever it is, I’ll find out.”

Her mouth went dry. She swallowed. He was right, of course. He would find out. In the end, it wasn’t the kind of thing she could hide anyway.

And she didn’t
want
to hide it. She just wanted... not to lose him.

Which was absurd, since she had never had him in the first place.

And, of course, she
wouldn’t
lose him. He would stand by her, insist on marrying her. That’s how he was.

But, deep in his most secret heart, his trust in her would die....

He must have seen the agony she was feeling. He softened his stance and coaxed, “Come on, Snow. Tell me. You can trust me, damn it.”

Oh, Joe, don’t you see? Of course, I can trust you. It’s you who should never have trusted me....

He took a step toward her. “Come on.” He reached out a hand.

She longed to stay. But if she stayed, she’d end up telling him. And she couldn’t do it. Not now. Later. Lord knew when. Just later. “No. I’m going. Thanks for...all you’ve done.” She turned and bolted for the door.

Joe let her go.

What the hell more could he do, short of using force, to stop her?

The answer was nothing. Not a damn thing.

He dropped to the bed and sat unmoving, listening intently. Faintly, he heard her car door slam outside, the engine rev to life, and the sound of tires crunching gravel as she backed toward the house and then drove through the split in the fence.

Soon enough, except for the low, steady hum of the window air conditioners he’d put in during his recent home improvement phase, there was quiet.

She was gone. Everything was back to normal again; he was alone.

But what she’d said wouldn’t stop echoing in his head.

You’ve done more than any friend could ever be expected to do....

Friend.
The word galled him. It was the word he’d always used to keep her at a safe distance. And now,
she
had used it—to push
him
away. He supposed it was kind of funny. In a way. If having a woman tear your guts out with your own words could be considered funny.

You’ve done more...

Joe threw back his head and laughed. It was a raw howl of a laugh, one with no warmth or humor in it at all.

Hell. He hadn’t done a damn thing, except take advantage of the tough time she was having enough to let her talk him into making love with her again. She’d told him it would comfort her, to be in his arms. So he’d given her comfort, and gotten plenty for himself, as well.

But as far as what might really have helped her, he’d done exactly zilch. He’d failed her in their pathetic attempts to find out who really shot Alan Henson. And, in the end, he wasn’t going to be able to protect her from paying for a crime she didn’t commit.

Joe knew, of course, that she was innocent of shooting Henson. There had never been the slightest doubt in his mind about that.

He knew she was innocent for two reasons: one, she had said so. And two, because, if she
had
shot him—something she would only have done in self-defense—she would have called an ambulance right away and
then
called the sheriff’s office. It would never have occurred to her to do otherwise. She wouldn’t have hesitated to face the consequences of her actions; and she would have been absolutely sure that justice would triumph in the end.