From Glowing Embers (10 page)

Gray saw her wince at a crack of thunder. He was too angry to care. “I thought about it a hundred times. There just didn’t seem to be any reason to make it legal. You were gone. We didn’t have to live together as husband and wife.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“What would you like me to say? That I was in mourning for you? That I prayed you’d come back so we could make a fresh start?”

“Don’t make me laugh.”

“There was just no reason to go through the mess a divorce would have been.” He got up and came to stand beside her.

“I imagine being married to a nonresident wife had some advantages.”

He didn’t pretend. “It did.”

“And in all these years, you never met anyone you wanted to marry? You never got tempted to give up the charade of being a married man?”

“I didn’t want a serious relationship.”

She nodded. “So in some ways it was an ideal situation.”

He laughed mirthlessly. “I’d never call it ideal. Let’s just say that it had its compensations.”

“And now?”

He was still angry, but even in his anger, he didn’t want to say the next words without looking her in the eyes. He put his hand on her shoulder and forced her to turn to him.

“Now there is someone I’m becoming serious about. I want a divorce.”

She added more unsorted feelings to the jumble inside her. She shrugged one shoulder, but he didn’t remove his hand. She felt the connection to him through her whole body. The incongruity was a bad joke. Her husband had just asked her for a divorce, and at the very moment when she was aware of him in a way she had never wanted to be again.

She tried to summon up more anger. “You came all this way to tell me? Ten years and thousands of miles, Gray? Your attorney could have sent me a letter years ago.”

“You didn’t leave a forwarding address.”

“Funny thing, though, you found me when you needed to, didn’t you?”

“I found you through a fluke. And coming to you directly seemed like the right thing to do. I want to clear up one part of my life before I start another.”

“Some things can’t be cleared up.” Her attempt at more anger failed. She heard the sadness in her voice. “Do you want me to tell you I don’t hate you? I can’t tell you that any more than I can tell you I do.”

“What
can
you tell me?” His fingers relaxed, and he moved his hand to her cheek, touching it briefly. His anger was gone, too, replaced by an ache he had brought on himself.

“I don’t know. It’s been ten years, but it seems like yesterday.”

“Does it help to know I feel that way, too?”

She shook her head.

“I want peace between us,” he said.

She stepped back, afraid he might touch her again.

“Julianna?”

“I wish I could give it to you,” she said, smiling sadly. “But the truth is, Gray, there are some things even a Sheridan can’t have.”

JULIANNA STARED UP
at the ceiling of the room she was sharing with Jody. She could hear the soft sounds of the little girl’s occasional dream-inspired murmur. The whistling wind was masked by the air-conditioning system, but she knew the storm still raged, because nothing could mask the hideous roar of thunder.

Her fear of storms was more than just a childhood phobia. She was terrified of them in the most primal of ways. A storm meant death and destruction. A storm was punishment for some unknown sin, and no matter how many times she told herself a storm was just one more impartial whim of Mother Nature, she was still terrified.

Through the years she had learned to live with her terror. Only those who knew her well—and they were few—suspected how frightened she was. She had learned to stay inside when a storm hit, to find a room with few windows and to pull the drapes shut. And she had learned to say as little as possible, because if she spoke, she might admit her fear.

Running through the rain with Dillon this evening had been almost more than she could bear, but she had wanted to get to real shelter before the thunder and lightning began. She had wanted it badly enough to do almost anything. Even come to Gray’s hotel.

Now they had finally had their talk. If she still didn’t understand why Gray had come all this way to tell her he wanted a divorce, at least she understood one thing. The events of the past had affected him, too.

Despite her best efforts, those events began to materialize in the form of memories. For ten years she had hoped he felt some of her pain. As she lay awake and remembered, the answer to one question eluded her. Where was the satisfaction she should be feeling?

“Gray Sheridan’s coming home for the weekend.”

Julie Ann finished scrubbing her face and dried it before she looked up at her sister. “How do you know?”

Mary Jane’s pretty Kewpie-doll lips were spoiled by a satisfied smirk. “You didn’t know, did you?”

Julie Ann hadn’t known. The night at the beach house had been the last time she had seen Gray. He hadn’t written, nor had she expected him to. He was back in college; she was back in high school. Their relationship was over. If her life suddenly seemed a poor imitation of what it had been, that was too bad. She had always known she was nothing more than a summer diversion.

“I didn’t know,” she admitted. She had learned long ago that Mary Jane had a sixth sense about other people’s pain. It was better to tell the truth and save her the trouble of going straight to your Achilles’ heel.

“Do you suppose he’ll come by and see you?”

“Probably not.”

“Why? Did he get what he was after already?”

Julie Ann nodded, and Mary Jane’s eyes lit up. “He got my friendship,” Julie Ann told her. “That’s what he was after.”

“I guess you’re right, honey. What else could he have wanted?” Mary Jane’s eyes drifted over her sister. Julie Ann was wearing a slip as she washed with water she had gotten from the hose in their backyard, and her boyish figure was plainly visible.

“Don’t you have somewhere else you need to be?” Julie Ann asked pointedly.

“Nowhere a’tall.” Mary Jane shook back her hair, hair that could have benefited from some of the soap and water Julie Ann was using.

“Well, I do.” Julie Ann took a clean skirt and top off the back of a chair and slipped them over her head. “I hate to miss the rest of this conversation, but I’ll be late for school if I don’t hurry.”

Julie Ann mulled over Mary Jane’s words as she went from class to class that day. She missed Gray. He was the first real friend she had ever had. But she wasn’t so innocent that she believed his friendship was all she missed.

She might tell herself that what she felt was puppy love, but she hadn’t yet found the theory convincing or reassuring. She loved Gray. Maybe it was because he was one of the few people in her life who had ever shown her any kindness. Maybe it was because he was the first man who had ever shown any interest in her. Whatever the reason, her feelings were real and rock-bottom deep.

She wondered what he would say if she called him tomorrow. She had never called him before. She had no phone at home, but that wasn’t the reason. She had never wanted to hear the frozen, stilted politeness in his mother’s or father’s voice if one of them answered. She didn’t have to be told what they thought of her. The truth was as simple as her last name.

If she called him now, what would he say? Would he be in a hurry to get off the phone so he could make his plans for the weekend? Six weeks had passed since she had seen him. He could have changed in those six weeks. He could have a girlfriend. Maybe she had come home with him to meet his parents.

Normally, nothing interfered with Julie Ann’s concentration at school. Her grade point average was valedictorian-high. She had no reason to believe she would actually make valedictorian; there were others with similar averages and better family backgrounds. But compared to her real goal, becoming valedictorian was unimportant. She was trying to get a scholarship, and, ironically, for once, being poor was probably going to help her. She was determined to be one of those success stories some ladies auxiliary wanted to support.

Today, however, nothing she told herself helped. By the time the final bell rang, she was more than ready to leave.

A small part of her had believed Gray might be waiting when she stepped out into the October sunshine. When he wasn’t, she chastised herself for believing in miracles and walked to Dory’s to wash a Saint Bernard no one else would touch. Gray wasn’t there after she finished for the day, nor did he come by her house that evening. By noon the next day, as she started toward the TG&Y for her shift, she was sure she wasn’t going to see him.

The hours dragged as Julie Ann cut fabric to other people’s specifications and inventoried patterns for reorder. There was no familiar Plymouth in the parking lot when she left for the evening. There was only the moon shining brightly in the cool night air and a long, tiring walk home.

She was halfway there when she heard a car coming down the dirt road behind her. Without having to think about it, she sidestepped into the bushes. Sometimes Black Creek Road was used for Saturday night drag races, and she didn’t want to be some drunken teenager’s victim.

“Julie Ann.”

For a moment she couldn’t believe it was Gray. She had wanted to see him so badly, and she had so rarely gotten anything she wanted.

He leaned over and opened the door on the passenger’s side. “Get in.”

She did, surprised and hurt by his curt tone. “Yes, Your Majesty.” She settled herself in the seat beside him, buckling her seat belt. “To what do I owe this honor?”

“Your infinite charms.”

Julie Ann knew immediately that Gray had been drinking. She hadn’t lived with her father all those years and not learned to know the signs and be wary of them. She had never seen Gray drink too much. Occasionally he had a beer when they were together, but he always stopped after one, and he never showed signs of not tolerating it well.

His speech wasn’t slurred, but even in the dim light of the moon she could see his eyes were too bright and his face lightly flushed. “Are you sure you should be driving?” she asked, trying not to sound overly concerned.

“Why not?”

“Let me know if I’m wrong, but I think you’ve had a few drinks too many.”

“You know too much for a girl your age.”

She put a restraining hand on his arm as he pulled back into the center of the road. “At least go slow, please.”

“Like a snail,” he assured her.

This snail would have won any race hands down. Julie Ann watched her house flash by as Gray continued along Black Creek Road. “I know it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other,” she said, fighting to sound casual. “But I haven’t moved.”

“You should.”

“I don’t think there’re any places to move to down this way. Nothing except farms. Maybe you ought to turn around.”

Gray turned onto another dirt road that zigzagged through the county. He picked up speed, but Julie Ann wasn’t too worried. The road was deserted. They were on the border of the National Forest.

“There’s no turning around now,” Gray said, swerving expertly to miss a series of ruts.

“Are we on a sight-seeing tour?”

“We’re on our way to the beach house. The back way.”

“How do poor boys manage without a great out-of-the-way place to take their dates?”

“I’ve never taken anyone there but you.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

He ignored her, sweeping his hand toward the woods surrounding him. “I used to hunt back here with my dad when I was a kid. Just me and him. I hated it, but I wanted to be with him. That’s when I started to find out what kind of man he was. He’d laugh when he shot a deer. Killing things put him in a good mood.”

Gray had never talked much about his family. Julie Ann hadn’t suspected that his relationship with his father was strained. “I had a teacher in elementary school who was a hunter, but he was still a good man.”

He acted as if he hadn’t heard her. “You know what else puts him in a good mood? Sending people to jail. You ought to hear his stories. Old Hanging Judge Sheridan.”

“Isn’t sending people to jail his job?”

“Justice is his job.”

“Does he know how you feel?”

“Hell, I don’t even know how I feel.”

They turned again, and the road narrowed, coming out on the highway after another mile. As she pieced together what he had said Julie Ann settled back and let him drive the rest of the way in silence. It was apparent that he and his father had had a fight that night, and Gray was still angry. She could guess who the fight had been about.

At the beach house Gray came around to open Julie Ann’s door, but she was out before he got there.

“I wanted to be somewhere quiet. I haven’t heard myself think since I got home,” he said.

Julie Ann could tell that whatever thoughts he had managed to hear, he hadn’t liked. “But you didn’t want to be alone. You came to get me.”

“Yeah.” With masculine grace Gray swung himself up to sit on the hood of his car, and Julie Ann joined him.

“I’ve missed you,” she said when they were settled.

“I hoped you wouldn’t.”

“Did you miss me? “

“Yeah.” He didn’t touch her, but they were both suddenly tense.

“Suppose you’re telling the truth,” she said finally. “Why didn’t you write me or something?”

“I’m beginning to think my father’s not right about much, but he is right about one thing. I need to forget you, and you need to forget me.”

“Your father’s been talking about me.” It wasn’t a question.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Julie Ann could just imagine what Judge Sheridan had said. “Why’d you come to see me then?”

“I wanted to see how you were.”

She slipped down from the hood and stood in front of him with her hands on her hips. “You don’t have to worry about me. Go ahead and forget me. See if I care.”

“How do I do it?” He leaned forward and caught her arms, pulling her closer. “Ole Miss’s got women everywhere I look. I think I’ve gone out with half of them since school started. I can’t talk to any of them.”