Trust in Me (29 page)

Tucker nodded.

“Will you be here, or should we contact you at home?”

“No, I’ll wait here. Can I see him?”

“Not now. He’s being prepped for the tests.” She gave him another smile. “I’ll be back out when we have more information.”

Watching the doctor’s retreating back, he felt Beth come up behind him. “Tucker?”

He pivoted. “You hear?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Now we just wait, I guess.”

Ron turned his back to them, stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans and stared out the window.

Tucker addressed the boy. “Ron? Did you take in what the doctor said?”

Not facing him, Ron nodded.

He and Beth exchanged looks.

“What happened between you two?” she asked.

Backing away, Tucker averted his gaze. “I think he should tell you. I don’t know the whole story.” He touched his jaw and winced. “I don’t know why he did this.”

Ron said nothing. Wouldn’t face them.

Beth crossed to her son. “Ronny, tell me why you attacked Tucker.”

Ron’s shoulders went rigid. Beth felt as if that famous sword of somebody was hanging over her head, about to fall. Still, she had to know. Placing a hand on his shoulder, she whispered, “Honey, I’m not letting this go. I have to know what happened.”

Slowly, Ronny pivoted. His face was full of regret. He glanced at Tucker, then back to her. “I heard something.”

“About?”

He nodded to Tucker. “You two.”

“Me and Tucker?”

“Uh-huh.”

“What?”

“That you were together Saturday night at Crocodile’s.”

Dear Lord, how could he have found out? Beth felt the raw edges of guilt flutter in her stomach.

“You lied, Mom. Two weeks ago you told me there was nothing going on between you.”

Beth opened her mouth to tell him there wasn’t anything going on, but she couldn’t get the words out. Saturday night might have been a mistake, but she wasn’t able to deny its significance. “I meant it when I said it.”

“Maze and Loose said you were...on the dance floor...you looked like you were gonna...” His face reddened.

So did Beth’s.

When she glanced at Tucker, his complexion had flushed, too.

“What were Maze and Loose doing in a bar? They’re underage.”

“It doesn’t matter what they were doing there, Mom.”

“Not for the purposes of this discussion, maybe. But it underscores why I don’t want you to see them.”

Ronny faced her like the man he’d become. He seemed bigger, more streetwise than ever before. “Tell me what’s really going on, Mom. Did you lie to me?”

“No, I told you Tucker and I were friends. Nothing more. But Margo, Annie and I bumped into him and Linc and Joe at Crocodile’s.” She shot Tucker an apologetic glance.

He stood there grimly, in a denim shirt, jeans and navy Nike windbreaker, just watching her.

“We were all dancing.” Now, of course, she
had
lied. The feel of Tucker’s body next to hers was still vivid. More, much more, was shared than a few dances.

“I...” Ron raked a hand through his hair. “They made it sound like more.”

It was
. Carefully, she avoided comment. “In any case, you had no right to attack Tucker. This is between you and me.” When Ron said nothing, she added, “Did you hear me, young man?”

Ron nodded.

Pivoting to speak to Tucker, her attention was diverted to the doorway; Joe Murphy strode into the ER and crossed to them. “Hi, guys.”

“What are you doing here, Joe?” Beth asked.

“I stopped by the diner looking for Ron. They told me you were here.” His gaze narrowed on her son. “Mr. Johnson called me. He said you skipped his class. He didn’t report you because your friend Sammy said something bad happened between you and Maze and you left school mad.”

Ron closed his eyes and sighed. “It’s a long story.”

For a minute, Joe watched him, then surveyed the scene—Beth’s tight expression, Tucker’s swollen mouth, Ron’s stiff body. “Why are you all here?” He motioned to the ER.

“Doc had a couple of bad angina attacks.” Tucker’s voice was grave. “We’re waiting for some tests.”

Like a man who cared about his friend, Joe zeroed in on Tucker. “Are you all right?”

Tucker nodded.

Turning back to Ron, Joe said, “I need some answers here, son. I’m in charge of your case, and skipping school isn’t part of the deal.” He nodded to Tucker. “Nor is whatever else went on here.”

Ron closed his eyes wearily.

Again Joe scanned the room. “Look, let’s go get something to drink in the cafeteria. I’d like to talk to you alone.”

“What about Doc?” Ron asked, but his tone was agreeable.

“They’re doing tests, right?” Tucker nodded. “If there’s word, your mother will come and get us.” He looked to Beth.

“Of course.”

Ron turned to leave, and Joe squeezed Beth’s arm. His expression said,
I’ll help
, and she couldn’t have been more grateful. She’d been on an emotional roller coaster since Saturday night, and Ron’s call had caused her heart to leap to her throat and lodge there permanently.

As the door closed behind them, she turned to face Tucker.

They were alone once again.

o0o

“YOU should go.” Even to his own ears Tucker’s voice was shaky. He was pretty near to losing it with worry over Doc. And torn up with feelings for this woman who stood before him with so much damn understanding in her eyes he wanted to bawl like a baby.

“No.”
Her
voice was strong and sure.

“I’m not in a good place, Beth. I been keepin’ it together for Ron, but...” His words trailed off. Noticing an anteroom adjacent to the main waiting area, he nodded to it. “I’ll talk to you later. It’s best you go tend to your son.”

Unsteadily, he stood and made his way to the smaller room. Though he didn’t believe in prayer, he asked God with every step he took to make Beth leave. He didn’t want her to see him like this. He reckoned he didn’t trust himself near her now, either.

The room was small and private, with a big window facing the parking lot; he crossed to it and stared out. Spring was coming to Glen Oaks real pretty. Would Doc get to see those flowers he’d planted in the cottage’s side yard last fall? Would he get to take out the new boat he’d ordered? That he might
not
hammerlocked Tucker’s heart.

When he heard the door close behind him, he shuddered.

After a long silence she spoke. “It was more than a few dances to me, Tucker.”

“I know.” He tried to swallow back the words, but couldn’t. “To me, too.” Again he waited. “I can’t talk about that, now.”

“I understand. I just wanted you to know.” She came up close behind him. He could smell the scent she wore—something light and flowery. “Tell me about Doc.”

“You heard the facts.”

“No, I mean about Doc and you.”

With worry about to swallow him up whole, he couldn’t resist the lure. He pictured a younger, broad-shouldered Doc barking orders at his pit crew like a five-star general. His blue eyes had challenged Tucker every step of the way of his career. Tucker had to smile, remembering their first meeting.

At his side now, Beth caught the brief curve of his lips. “What? Tell me.”

The words tumbled out like an overflow of gasoline to a car’s tank. “I was near about Ron’s age when I met him. At Darlington, in South Carolina.”

“That’s where you’re from, right?”

“About thirty minutes from the track. Some backwater hellhole. Doc was workin’ in the pit for Dale Earnhardt in his early days. I waylaid him on his way to the trailer after a big race that Earnhardt lost. I told him I had a real bad hankerin’ to make it in the circuit. And I had it in me to be the best.”

“What did he say?”

“He told me to scram.” Actually he’d said,
Fuck off, kid
.

“But you didn’t?”

“Nope, I followed the Southern circuit that year, whenever I could. Doc got his own crew and driver. After each race, I pestered him like a gadfly. Finally he let me be a gofer on his team—but only after I graduated high school. More than a year later, he let me drive.”

Tucker’s fist curled, remembering the power of a ton of metal under his hands. His heartbeat quickened just as it had when he’d taken that first slick turn. He could hear the motor roar, smell the grease and gas and sweat. But the biggest high was being in control. For a boy who’d had such little say over life after his mother died, it was a rush greater than having his first sex.

“Had you ever driven before?” Beth asked.

“Circuits and sprints is all. But Doc said I was a natural for stock cars.”

“So did all the papers.”

He grinned then, recalling how much he’d loved to race. “It got better. I did some test drives, then I started racin’ on another team the sponsor ran. Eventually, I took the pole in a big event and got to be Doc’s main driver.”

“And the rest, they say, is history.” She mimicked what announcers quipped about the legend of Holt and Quaid for years.

Tucker smiled. He raked a hand through his hair, soothed enough by the memories to face her. She’d removed her coat and the apron, and stood there in tan Dockers and a navy blue cotton sweater. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail again. She looked so different than she had Saturday night in the leather, but just as beautiful. “It was more than the racin’, Beth.”

She dropped down on a couch. “Tell me,” she repeated.

“I...” He began to pace. God, he’d never done this before. Never spilled his guts, not even to Doc who’d had to put two and two together over the years. “I had a bad situation at home. My mama died when I was five.”

“I’m sorry.”

“She was a wonderful woman. Warm. Loving.” He smiled sadly. “A lot like you are with Ron.”

Though her face glowed with the compliment, Beth just cocked her head, silently urging him to go on. For some reason, he trusted her enough to dig out his wallet. From the inner recesses, he pulled an old photograph. It was faded with age and crinkled around the edges. But his mother was there with her blond hair and smiling green eyes. Holding him, as an infant.

“Oh, Tucker.” Reverently Beth fingered the rim of the photo.

“I got used to the hugs, the...tenderness, I guess. When it stopped, I was shocked. Sad. But I caught on fast.” He put the picture back in his wallet and returned it to his pants pocket.

“What do you mean?”

“My father died just after I was born. My mother got hitched to a coal miner, Ralph Pearson, when I was three. He had a son who was thirteen.” Tucker smiled, remembering MacKenzie, the tall lanky boy with the big heart. “If it hadn’t been for Mac, his real son, I might not’ve survived until I met up with Doc.”

“Why? What did Pearson do?”

“Nothing.”

“I don’t understand.”

“He never paid a lick of attention to me. It was like I didn’t exist. After my mama died, I took care of myself, and what I couldn’t do, Mac did for me.”

“When you were
five
?”

He nodded, remembering the painful craving for attention. For affection. “I vowed in those long days and near endless nights that I’d die before I’d seek out that kind of attention, or affection, from anybody again. Particularly from anybody unwilling or unable to give it to me.”

Saying it aloud made him realize that was why he needed to stay away from
this
woman—she could never give him what he needed because her love and obligations belonged elsewhere. He glanced at the door, out to the ER. It was bad enough needing Doc. If something happened to him...

Once again, he turned his back on Beth. Felt the emotion crawl up his throat. Through sheer force of will he backstopped it.

She came up behind him.

Oh, God, please don’t let her see me like this
, he prayed a second time.

“Doc’s the only real family you’ve had, then, since your mother died?”

Swallowing hard, he nodded. And felt a hand on his arm. Control slipped, inch by icy inch.

“I’m so sorry, Tucker. I’ve had a rough life, but I’ve always had Linc, Margo and Annie. I can’t imagine...”

He drew in a deep breath. He wanted to tell her to go, but he couldn’t get the words past the emotion in his throat. He bit the inside of his mouth and clenched his hands.

And then she was in front of him, insinuating herself between him and the window. The understanding, the sympathy and the naked caring in her face did it. Released the tears that he’d held back since those black and lonely days after his mother died.

She froze for a minute, then reached up and cradled his face in her hands, scrubbed the wetness from his cheeks with her fingers. He closed his eyes, leaned into her caress. Banding his arms around her, he pulled her up to him.

And came apart.

All the years of loneliness, of subtle rejection, of not being good enough, erupted out of him like an emotional volcano too long suppressed. Embarrassed though he was, terrified though he was, he couldn’t stop it. He buried his face in her hair, her shoulder, and wept like a newborn babe.

She held him. Whispered nonsense words to him. Stroked him with warm and loving fingers. Thankfully the outburst didn’t last long. After a minute or so he quieted.

But he still held on to her. He became aware of the strength in her embrace, the sturdiness of her frame. This was a woman who could relate to his pain. Understand it. Take on some of it and help him deal with emotions he couldn’t handle alone. It took him a minute to remember she was also a woman he couldn’t have. He swallowed hard, let himself wallow in the feel and scent of her for a few seconds, then drew back.

Her face was wet. Tiny tracks of tears—for him—marred her pretty cheeks. At that moment, he realized the depth of his feelings for her. In a few short weeks, he’d come to care for Beth Donovan, Danny Donovan’s wife, in much more than a physical way.

And standing haloed in the bright afternoon sunshine filtering through the window, he realized that it was about the worst thing that could have happened between them.

Chapter 17

JOE rang Annie’s bell only once before the front door flew open. Matt stood there in a Yankees cap and shirt, and with a hopeful look on his face. It was how his son used to look at him when he came home at night from the electronics plant all those years ago.