When You Dance With The Devil Read online

  They reached his car, and when they were both inside with the doors closed and locked, he asked her, “How do you feel about me?”

  “I’m scared to say, but you mean a lot to me, more than . . . than anybody else ever has. At least I think so.”

  Her shivers when he eased her into his arms were out of her control. She wrapped her arms around him and held him while he kissed her eyes, lips and cheeks until she could taste her own tears.

  “Why are you crying?”

  “Because I can’t undo all those stupid things I did when I first came here, and I’d g . . . give anything if I could.”

  His arms tightened around her. “All right. Let’s both of us put that in the past. I don’t dwell on it, and neither should you. Let’s see what we have going for us.”

  She nodded. If only he meant it. On the way back to Pike Hill, he stopped at a drive-in fast food shop and bought them grilled barbecued shrimp kebobs, French fries, and coffee.

  “Is any man at that boardinghouse going to be jealous because you brought me to supper?” he asked as they ate in the car with Aretha Franklin’s “Chain, Chain, Chain” in the background.

  His question surprised her. “No, indeed. I told you about Percy, but I straightened things out with him not so long ago, and we’re on speaking terms now. I cleaned up my act.”

  “I wasn’t talking about him. Who is this Richard fellow?”

  “He’s Francine’s guy. Wait’ll you meet him.”

  He cleared his throat. “Something tells me that boarding house has an unusual cast of characters.”

  “You can say that again.”

  With a heavy heart and fear cramping his gut, Richard knocked on Francine’s door and waited. He knew she hadn’t left the house, so he knocked again. After what seemed like hours, but was only a few minutes, she opened the door.

  “Francine, I have two things to say. I believe I deserve a hearing about what happened this morning, and I want my father to meet you when he comes here next week. Will you step out of the room and talk with me?”

  “That’s three things,” she said, and his heart leaped in his chest, for if she could joke or tease, she would be amenable to reason. “I don’t want to talk about anything standing out here, but tell me this . . . you really didn’t remember her?”

  He crossed his heart. “So help me God, I don’t remember ever having seen her. I also know that I probably did it.”

  She stared at him for a long while, and he waited for the hatchet to fall. Then, she looked at her watch. “If we sit at one of those side tables for two down in the lounge, no one will join us. I’ll meet you there in five minutes.”

  And not a hint as to how she would react to what he had to tell her. When he got down there, she had chosen a table against the wall, far away from where they usually sat with Judd. He nodded to Judd as he entered the lounge.

  Francine didn’t soften what she had to say with preliminaries. “I’m in deep with you, Richard, but I can walk away, and I can stay away. So please start at the beginning and don’t leave anything out. I’m not judging you; I just want to decide fairly if I want to cast my lot with you.”

  “Fair enough,” he began. “The man you’re looking at would hardly be recognizable to the man I was less than eighteen months ago.” He left out nothing of what he remembered from his nineteenth birthday to the day he decided to leave Geneva and the diplomatic world.

  “The fact that a woman chose to abort my child rather than marry me, even though I was only nineteen does not explain the life I’ve led. When Estelle rejected me, and that was before she married, I realized for the first time how it felt to be pushed aside. And until this morning, I didn’t realize the effect that a casual one-night stand could have on a woman.”

  She rubbed her right hand across her brow as if clearing her head. “Do you remember any of them?”

  “Of course. After it was over, one told me she had a husband, and I didn’t repeat the act, because I was disgusted. She became a pal . . . of sorts. These women—mostly chic professionals with no home life—were out for a thrill, looking for something different, and I suspect now that they played the field.”

  She leaned forward and looked him in the eye. “You changed your life drastically, giving up a stunning career because you didn’t like what you had become or the people you dealt with, and that’s a credit to you. You know, when I walked out of this house with you this morning, I was certain that I wanted you to be my husband.” He sat forward, fighting the tentacles of fear that gripped him. “Maybe I still do,” she went on. “I don’t know, but I need to digest all this.” Her face creased into a frown. “I’m not sure I would have the guts to look at myself as you did and then walk away from what you left. I admire you for it.”

  He wanted to say thanks, but he couldn’t get his breath. She hadn’t condemned him, and she hadn’t said it was over between them. That meant he had a chance. He took her hand, and she allowed him to hold it. “If I should lose you, I’m not sure I could bear it.”

  “Did you need the variety?” Her voice had a distant, wary quality, and he realized that what concerned her most was his ability to be faithful to one woman. That hadn’t occurred to him, and suddenly he understood how she interpreted what he’d told her.

  “Francine, I’ve been completely celibate since I walked out of my office in Geneva all those months ago. Celibacy hasn’t bothered me too much until now, and that’s because of what I feel for you and want to experience with you. As long as I felt that I was in love with another woman, I didn’t let myself get as close to you as my body wanted to. I have personal standards, and they have strengthened with the years. Are you listening to me?” She nodded, but he knew he wasn’t out of the woods.

  He didn’t like the unshed tears that glistened in her eyes, but he could only reach out and caress her cheek. And she allowed him that privilege, too. Maybe he should content himself with whatever she could give, but he wasn’t used to taking tidbits. He nearly laughed at himself. He wasn’t used to being deeply in love, either.

  “When is your father coming?”

  “Day after tomorrow.”

  “I’ll make sure I get home early.”

  He had hardly settled in his room to write when his cell phone rang. “Richard, this is Jolene. Can you please spare me a couple of minutes?”

  “Sure I can. What’s up?”

  “I told you about Harper Masterson, the man who got in the accident after I—”

  He interrupted her. “I remember all that. Is there a problem with him?”

  “I don’t know, Richard. I think the problem’s with me. Is a woman supposed to let a man know she’s half-crazy about him? It’s like I’m in a new world. I never dreamed that being with somebody who cares a lot for me—he does, ’cause I can feel it—could make me ditsy. I can’t sleep, and I almost went nuts waiting for him to get here today to take me to a movie. Is this normal, Richard?”

  “Does he love you?”

  “He does, Richard. I know he does.”

  “Then, I say, go for it. You’re falling in love. Let him know how you feel, but don’t forget to be your own woman. Never look up to a man. Admire him if he’s admirable, but as an equal. I think he’s a lucky fellow. When will we meet him?”

  “Tomorrow. He’s coming to supper with me.”

  “I’ll look forward to it.” She thanked him and hung up.

  He heard the front door close and wondered who’d come in or gone out. More curious than he normally was about the activities of others, he put his writing pad aside and went downstairs to find Judd in the lounge talking with Philip Coles.

  “Good afternoon, Reverend,” he said. “Did you come in a minute ago?”

  “Why yes, I’m thinking about buying a place down here for my retirement years. I’ll be seventy in ten years, and it’ll take me at least that long to pay for a house. Fannie’s my only living relative, so I’d like to be near her.”

  Judd rocked and sipped
his ginger ale. “Would you care for some ginger ale, Reverend?” Fannie swished into the lounge before Philip could answer and stopped short.

  “Philip! I didn’t know you’d come.” She rushed over and hugged her brother. “I’ll tell Marilyn to set a place for you at supper.”

  Hmm. So Philip had a key to the house. Richard got a container of raspberry ice cream from the machine, ate it there to be sociable and went back to his room. Why did Philip have to give them a reason for coming to see Fannie so soon after his last visit? Oh, what the hell, he thought. Francine was more than enough to keep his mind active. What Philip did was his own business.

  On Sunday morning, Jolene went down to breakfast early and found Judd and Richard eating the elaborate breakfast that Marilyn always served on Sundays. She joined them. “Have you had a chance to speak with the Reverend Coles?” Judd asked her. “He said he’s planning to settle in Pike Hill when he retires.”

  Jolene sucked air through her teeth, looked toward the ceiling and rolled her eyes. “I don’t know, Judd, but the more I see of that man, the more he distresses my nerves. There’s something about him—I don’t know what—that brings out the worst in me.”

  “So I noticed,” Judd said, “but he doesn’t seem like a bad fellow.”

  She ignored that. “See y’all this evening,” she said and dashed up the stairs to dress for church.

  Harper arrived promptly at a quarter of seven that evening and when she saw him, she was glad she’d chosen a pretty red dress with a flounced skirt. When she took his coat, she had to stifle a gasp. This was a good-looking man.

  “Hmmm. You look so nice,” she said, referring to his oxford gray suit, white shirt, and gray and yellow striped tie.

  “And you look beautiful,” he said, handing her a bunch of red roses. She thanked him, though she didn’t know where she got the breath to do it, took his hand and led him to the lounge. She knew that all eyes were trained on them, and she had never been so proud. She introduced him first to Judd and Richard.

  “Where’s Francine?” she asked Richard. “Is she coming down?”

  “I expect so.” His wink signaled his approval of Harper, and when she looked at Judd, he said. “Pull up a chair, Harper, and join our little circle. I’m glad to see you.”

  “And I’m glad to be here,” Harper said. “Jolene talks about all of you with such fondness, that I couldn’t wait to meet you. This is—” Fannie entered the lounge, and he stared from Fannie, who also wore red, to Jolene and rubbed his chin. “Hmmm.”

  “What is it?” Jolene asked him.

  “Just a thought.”

  She didn’t miss the quick exchange of glances between Judd and Richard. Francine walked in, devastatingly attractive in a royal blue velvet suit, and Jolene rushed to greet her. “Come on over. I want you to meet my boyfriend.”

  Richard and Harper stood as they approached the table. “Francine, this is Harper Masterson.” They shook hands, and Richard got a chair for Francine and placed it beside his own.

  “Well, Harper,” Judd said, “we’re Jolene’s only family. I’m the oldest person here, old enough, you might say, to be rude with impunity, so I can ask if you have good intentions where our Jolene is concerned?”

  Harper stretched out his long legs, folded his arms, looked at Judd and winked. A grin played around his lips for a bit, and then he said, “Judd, somehow I knew you had a streak of deviltry. Good. It keeps a person from being boring. You can tell the world that I’m in love with Jolene and that I will always behave honorably with her.”

  Judd rocked in the boardinghouse’s only Shaker rocker. “Don’t surprise me none; you got the bearing of a real man.”

  Harper looked at Richard and grinned. “If I don’t pass muster with you, I’m out of luck.”

  “I think you’re both lucky,” Richard said, but it seemed to Jolene that Harper’s mind had wandered, that he hadn’t heard what Richard said.

  Fannie rested a hand on Jolene’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you again, Mr. Masterson. We’ll eat as soon as I introduce our guest and Reverend Coles says the grace.”

  Harper’s frown was that of one thoroughly perplexed, but he said, “Thank you. I appreciate your hospitality.” He took Jolene’s hand and followed Fannie into the dining room.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Judd stood and gazed up at Richard. “So I’m not stupid. Harper is downright suspicious, and I suspect he’ll mention it to Jolene before he leaves her tonight.”

  “Yeah. My thoughts exactly. What do you think of him so far?”

  “Looks solid to me. I think she’s done well for herself.”

  He slid his arm around Francine’s waist and began walking to the adjoining room.

  “So do I, believe me, she’s come a long way. I’m glad for her.”

  “I am, too,” Francine said. “This man is thinking marriage. Maybe not next week, but that’s the way he’s headed.”

  He watched as Jolene introduced Harper to each of the boarders, including Percy Lucas, who spoke cordially to Jolene’s friend. In the lounge after supper, when Jolene and Francine left to repair their lipstick, Harper leaned back in his chair and looked directly at Judd.

  “Is either of you able to tell me why Mrs. Johnson and Jolene look like mother and daughter?”

  Richard looked at Philip and got the reaction that he expected. “If you’ll excuse me,” Philip said, “I have to call a couple of parishioners. They aren’t well, and I want to have a few words with them.”

  Richard’s lower lip dropped when Judd grabbed Philip’s arm, restraining him. “That can wait. I’ve been wondering the same thing ever since Jolene came here. You’ve known Jolene ever since she was born, but you don’t know who her father is. She doesn’t know, and her mother refused to tell her.”

  Harper sat forward, his brow deeply furrowed and his body tense, like that of a hunter crowding his prey. “Is Fannie Johnson Jolene’s real mother?” When Philip seemed to relax at that question, Richard narrowed his eyes.

  “I can tell you that Jolene’s mother is dead,” Philip assured them. “I knew her when she was carrying Jolene, and I performed the baptismal ceremony. Fannie has no children.”

  Judd raised his head slowly, and Richard had never seen such an expression of disgust, almost hatred, on his friend’s face, for Judd was a man who preached goodness, grace, and kindness. “I know you don’t have any brothers, because you said yesterday afternoon that Fannie was your only relative. Why did you let Jolene’s mother treat her as if she wasn’t human, and why haven’t you told Jolene that you’re her father?”

  At the loud gasp, they all looked up to see Jolene and Francine standing there. Philip remained mute, tacitly admitting Judd’s accusation, while the three men stared at him.

  “Say something,” Jolene said, in a voice that was abnormally low, tight, and harsh. “Why don’t you say something?”

  Harper jumped up, ran to her, and wrapped her in his arms. “It’s all right, sweetheart. Don’t cry, honey. You made it without him, and you don’t need him. Please don’t cry.” His hands stroked her back and her shoulders, as her tears became sobs.

  Fannie ran over to the group. “What’s the matter? What’s wrong with Jolene?”

  “Nothing, really, when you get right down to it,” Judd said. “She just found out that Philip here is her father.”

  Richard lunged forward and caught Fannie just before she collapsed. “I knew there was something fishy about the Reverend’s sudden rash of visits,” Joe Tucker said to Louvenia, with whom he had observed the scene from a nearby table. “Jolene deserved better than that from him.” Richard wondered who else had heard it.

  Louvenia shrugged and rolled her eyes. “At least she’s got his genes, and she can thank him for her good looks, ’cause that is one good-looking man.”

  Joe stared at Louvenia. “Oh, hell, woman. You always get everything ass backwards.” He walked over to Richard. “I’ll help you take Fannie upstairs to her ro
om.”

  “Thanks,” Richard said and looked at Francine. “I think it would look better if you came with us.”

  “Of course,” she said. “I wasn’t thinking. This whole scene is horrifying. What an awful experience for Jolene.”

  “Yeah,” Joe said as they plodded up the stairs carrying Fannie. “But if Judd hadn’t challenged the Reverend, he never would have admitted it, and Jolene would never have known who her old man was. Tell you the truth; I think he ought to be horsewhipped.”

  “What happened?” Fannie said when she regained consciousness as they put her on her bed.

  Francine recounted as much of it as she knew. “He didn’t deny it, Fannie.”

  “Well, of late, I’d been more and more suspicious about that. Before Jolene came here, I saw Philip maybe three times a year. At first I thought he wanted her for himself, but I didn’t see any evidence of it, and then it came to me one day that she looked just like me and just like my father. And then I thought that, if Philip was her father, he’d have told her, and I saw no evidence of that, either. So I decided it was a strange coincidence. She must be terribly upset.”

  “She is,” Francine said, “and if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go see what I can do to help her.” She left and took Richard and Joe with her.

  At the bottom of the stairs, Richard looked at Joe. “I thought I’d screwed up my life, but the Reverend is a humdinger.”

  “Yeah, man,” Joe said. “He obviously cares about her, which is why he’s here so often, but the brother’s a coward. A real dilly of a coward. He preached at her mother’s funeral and didn’t put his arms around his daughter and say, your mother’s gone, but you still have me, your father. That dude couldn’t preach to me.”

  “Nor me.” He returned to the lounge and walked over to Judd, who sat alone watching television, the commotion having emptied the lounge. “Where’s Jolene?”

  “Harper took her with him. He said they’d be back in about an hour, that he thought she’d be better if he got her away from the Reverend. He’s a good man. I like him.”