Born Innocent (31 page)

Ella studied her daughter for a moment. Then, “Oh, all right. But I’m here. If you need a listening ear.”

“
Thanks. Is that all, then?” Claire started to get up to clear the table of their breakfast things.

“
No, it isn’t.”

Claire sat back down.

“
I, actually, I have something I feel I really must get off my chest.”

Claire was curious, in spite of the fact that usually the things her mother had to get off her chest were things Claire didn’t want to hear. “What is it?”

“
It concerns... how wrong I’ve been. All these years.”

“
About what?”

Ella looked down at her lap and then raised her head high. “About Joe Tally.”

Claire stared at her mother. It didn’t take a genius to see that Ella had changed toward Joe, but Claire had never expected her proud, often self-righteous mother to come right out and admit how unfair she’d been for twenty years.

“
Close your mouth, dear,” Ella instructed tartly. “And, anyway, what is so surprising?”

“
Well, I-”

“
When I’m wrong, I admit it. That is, as soon as I realize I’m wrong. And I have been very wrong about Joe. I have judged him not as himself, but by his background. I’ve
let gossip and the opinions of others rule my thinking. I have been a terrible snob, and I am very, very sorry.”

“
But—”

“
Just let me finish this.”

“
All right...”

“
I began to see that my... judgment might be faulty on the day you found Henson on the floor of the back bungalow. Honestly, dear, I thought that man was the answer to all my prayers for you. He had such nice manners, he dressed so well and he drove a good car. And, of course, he catered to me shamelessly in order to get closer to you. And I lapped it up. I do like to imagine that your father, bless his heart, would never have fallen for that con artist. But
I
did. I’m ashamed to confess that, if poor Verna hadn’t shot him, I just might have given him my money and ended up penniless in my old age. But that’s neither here nor there at this point. What matters now, is that I understand how wrong I’ve been. And I see now why you love Joe Tally. Even a blind woman could see it, with all he’s done for you since the trouble over Henson started. And I’m sorry. For all the years I’ve stood in the way of the two of you finding happiness together.”

Claire didn’t tell her mother that if Joe had only been willing to let himself love her, even the iron will of Ella Snow couldn’t have kept the two of them apart. She only asked softly, “Is that all?”

Ella, whose eyes had become suspiciously moist, took a tissue from her pocket and blew her nose. “Well, yes it is. Were you expecting more?” She dabbed at her eyes.

“
No, that’s enough. That’s...much more than enough.” Claire got up and crossed the short distance to her mother’s chair. “Oh, Mother, I...”

Ella reached up her long arms and pulled her daughter down. The women held each other. Ella spoke against Claire’s hair, “I love you, dear. And I’m proud of you, too.

Never forget I’m here for you, that you can turn to me, as long as there is breath in my body.”

“
Oh, Mother. Thank you. I won’t forget.”

“
Good, then. And I like to hope that, whatever’s wrong between you and Joe, you’ll work it out. You will, won’t you?”

Claire straightened up. “I don’t know. Let’s just.. .wait and see, okay?”

“
In other words, ‘Mind your own business, Mother’?”

Claire gave a weary chuckle. “Something like that.”

“
Well, I’ve done my part.” Ella blew her nose and wiped her eyes one more time. “The rest is up to the two of you, I suppose.”

Claire didn’t answer. She set to work carrying the dishes to the sink.

That night, Claire and Ella sat companionably in the living room watching a movie on the VCR. The bell rang out front, and Claire told Ella she’d get it.

She went through the door to the lobby and found herself looking into Joe’s strange golden eyes through the glass in the top of the door.

Her heart turned over in her chest. And she longed, for a split second, to duck and hide from Joe as she had done that night after they’d arrested her for shooting Henson. But this time she didn’t hide. She knew what he had come for.

And she knew that, at last, the time for absolute truth was upon her.

He took her to the ranch.

Ella was absurdly delighted to see them go. She helped Claire pack an overnight bag and urged her daughter to “Just stay there as long as you like, dear. I’m all set up here, anyway, and there’s no reason I have to leave. You just enjoy a little time away....”

When they pulled into the yard, the dogs were there, wriggling and whining. Claire made much of them, and then, carrying her overnight bag, she followed Joe into the house. Inside the door, she set the bag down. She was sure that if she did stay the night, she’d be sleeping in the guest room. But she didn’t want to get into all that—the sleeping arrangements that seemed so banal and yet told so much-right then.

She thought she felt the quick brush of Joe’s glance when she set the bag down, but he was behind her. It was probably only her imagination.

He said, “How about a beer?”

She started to shake her head, remembering the baby. But then she said yes, anyway, knowing she’d take no more than a sip or two. Somehow, to say no seemed an open admission that she was pregnant, and though she’d be telling him within moments, the urge to go on protecting her secret was still with her.

He went to the kitchen and came back with two long-necks. “It’s a beautiful night. Let’s go out on the porch.”

She took the cold, sweating bottle. His fingers brushed hers lightly. The touch tingled all the way up her arm. “Sure. That would be nice.”

They went out and sat side-by-side on the glider. The dogs came sniffing up, walked in circles, and lay down, with little
wuffs
of contentment, nearby.

The moon was a last-quarter crescent over the dark trees. Claire could hear crickets and the lazy croak of a single frog. Somewhere far away, a coyote howled. In the back pasture, Demon, nervous at the predator’s cry, let out a long whinny.

Joe began it. He took a long pull off his beer. Then he said, “It’s time to talk, I think. About the baby first of all.”

Claire gave up any pretense that she would drink her beer. She bent and set it beside the glider on the porch. Then she sat up again and looked down at her hands, then back up at the moon.

“
Lord,” she said. Her voice was hardly more than a whisper. “This is even harder than I thought it would be.”

His voice was gentle. “I figured, when you said ‘the baby’s all right,’ that you meant you were pregnant.”

Claire managed a weak sound of assent.

He went on, “And then, when you wouldn’t take your pain pills, your mother became suspicious, too.”

“
Oh, God...” She glanced at him, then away. “Patty swore she wouldn’t say a thing.”

“
She didn’t. But last Friday you had a full physical, including a pelvic exam. Lorna let your mother see the bill.” Lorna Dell was the clinic’s office manager. “And don’t blame Lorna,” Joe insisted. “Your mother had been handling all the paperwork up until then, so Lorna just assumed—”

Claire waved a hand. “I get the picture. You don’t need to say any more. What I can’t believe is my mother hasn’t said a word to me, except to tell me that she was wrong about you all these years and that she hopes we’ll...” Her voice failed her. She finished lamely, “Work out our problems.”

Joe actually chuckled. “She’s sure we’re going to find happiness together.”

Claire sighed. “Tonight, if at all possible. Am I right?” Suddenly, her mother’s eagerness to see Claire drive off in Joe’s pickup with her overnight bag on her lap made a lot of sense.

Joe nodded. “Yeah, she wants us to work things out. For the baby’s sake, if nothing else. At least that’s what she told me.”

Claire wished she could melt into a puddle and sink through the porch boards. “Oh, God. What exactly did she say to you?”

“
She told me in no uncertain terms that you never had a thing to do with Alan Henson—so the best thing for everyone would be if I owned up to my responsibility and gave the baby my name. Someone like me, she pointed out, who was born
out of wedlock,
should surely understand that what a child needs most of all is two parents committed to giving him or her a decent start in life.”

“
Oh, Lord. That sounds just like her.” Claire’s face was flaming. She was grateful for the shadows of nighttime. She couldn’t look at him. Staring off toward the tall trees
beyond the road, she said, “She’s afraid you’ll think the baby might be—”

“
I don’t.” He put his hand over hers. “I knew there was nothing between you and Henson from that day in your living room when you told me so.”

Still not quite able to meet his eyes, she looked down at their entwined hands. “Thank you,” she whispered, moved beyond measure to realize that he still trusted her. In spite of everything, even knowing about the baby,
he still trusted her.
She had said there was nothing between her and Henson, and he believed,
still
believed, without question, that that was so. Perhaps there was hope after all....

But then she quelled such crazy, impossible thoughts. Just because he believed the baby was his didn’t mean he was longing to marry her.

She forced herself to speak. “Joe, I’m sorry about my mother. It’s just... the way she is. If there’s going to be a baby, she wants me to have a husband.”

“
Even if the husband in question is that dangerous, trouble-making loser, Joe Tally?”

Claire looked at him then. She
gaped
at him, actually. After all they’d been through, after all he had done for her, didn’t he realize yet how absolutely first-rate, how incredibly, fantastically
wonderful
he was?

She jumped to her feet, almost upsetting her untouched beer and causing Gonzo to whimper and raise his head in doggy consternation. She marched to the porch rail and whirled to face him.

“
That is it, I have had it. If you don’t stop putting yourself down...” She had no words to describe the horribleness of what she would do. She sucked in an indignant breath. “I
hate
when you do that.”

He set his empty beer on the porch and stood up. Slowly, he came toward her.

Down in her stomach, a hundred butterflies took flight. It was crazy, but the look in his eyes was the same look he’d given her the night they’d made the baby. It was a look of heat and wanting....

Oh, Lord, it wasn’t possible. But it was happening. He was coming closer. He was
not
withdrawing. He was
not
shutting her out.

When he was less than a foot away, he reached out and touched the side of her face. She felt the warmth of that caress, the cherishing gentleness of it, through every inch of her body. He murmured her name. “Claire...”

She made a soft, questioning sound. “Joe... ?”

His hand moved downward, over the fine column of her neck. It glided light as a breath over her still-bandaged shoulder, down the swell of her breast, until he could cup that breast.

He said hoarsely, “Your breasts. I think... they’re fuller than that first night. You’re so beautiful, Claire. With our baby inside you...” He thumbed her nipple. She felt it blooming. She released a long, slow sigh.

“
I waited,” he said, as he continued to touch her, his hand cupping and stroking her breast and then gliding up once more, to caress her neck, her face, to smooth back her hair. “I waited, until you were well enough. It was hell, I’ll tell you, coming back here alone every night, when all I wanted was to hold you, to be with you.... But I knew your mother would care for you, and I thought it would be better, since your mother’s so old-fashioned and I wanted to show respect for her. But now, it’s enough. I don’t want to wait anymore...”

She let her eyes droop half closed, thinking how she’d missed him, blocking out all thought of the future, as she’d always done with Joe. With Joe, there was no future. There was only tonight....

And then he said, “Marry me.”

The world froze on its axis. A clean shaft of joy pierced her heart. But the joy didn’t last.

After all, a marriage proposal was no more than she’d expected. She’d always known he’d offer to marry her. Just because he was doing it in such a beautiful, sensual way, didn’t mean he really
wanted
the marriage.

She sidestepped, enough to send a clear signal that she didn’t want to be touched right then. He dropped his caressing hand. She returned to the glider and took her seat again. He leaned on the railing, waiting, watching her. “Well?” he asked warily. “Do I get an answer or not?”