The New Hope Cafe (17 page)

That morning, she’d turned to get the laundry basket and found
Barrett in the doorway, his face a mask of cold fury.

How had he gotten in? In her haste, she must have forgotten to
lock the door after Beth Ann went next door to play with a friend.

Slowly, Barrett closed the door, a sick smile on his face, a
predatory look in his eyes.

You promised me time,
he said in a
slow, hypnotic voice,
but I see packed bags. I won’t have
that, Cara. I won’t let you destroy our family. I love you too much for
that.

When she tried to push past him, he grabbed her arm, knocking
over the box of dryer sheets, spilling them everywhere. She twisted away, but
slipped on the dryer sheets and hit the floor. He was on her, choking her. She
gasped, blacking out, smelling the sweet powder of the fabric softener. She
scratched his face and he let go for a second, then yanked her to her feet and
threw her against the wall. She tried to reach the door, but he grabbed her
again. He looked here and there.
For a weapon,
she
realized. He wanted to kill her.

Finally he gave up and threw her against the washing machine
with all his might. Her last thought was of Beth Ann. She had to stay alive for
her daughter. Pain flared and everything went black.

Cara had survived to protect her daughter. And that was still
her mission. Barrett was after her again. If he found her, he would finish what
he’d started. He would kill her. And Beth Ann? What would become of her?

You can’t stay here. You’re not safe. Not
yet. Never forget that.

The sickening smell faded from her nose, but she didn’t dare
let her fear fade. Again, she’d dropped her guard. The joys of living here had
pulled her in. Two months was as much time as she dared risk here.

They needed the safety of an anonymous city and a shelter
designed to protect families like hers. And that was only a way station until
she’d paid for new identities and truly started over.

Even then…would she ever truly be safe?

* * *

T
HE
FOLLOWING
T
HURSDAY
night, Cara stood
at the back of the crowded bar with Jonah, applauding Devil’s Anvil Reborn as
they finished the first set. It was eleven and she was wiped out, her legs
aching, her head full of sawdust.

It had been a full day, including a private dinner for the band
and crew, who’d stumbled out of the big black tour bus into the café at 5:00
p.m.

Jonah studied her face. “Let me drive you home. You need
sleep.” It still startled her how closely he watched over her. She had to admit
she loved being so precious to him.

“I want to congratulate Evan.”

“Then it’s straight to bed.
Your
bed. So you’ll sleep.”

“I’ll just lie there wanting you.”

His sharp inhale gratified her. It was almost scary how a mere
look or touch could set them both on fire. The heat built all day and by the
time they got to bed, it was a wildfire that all but consumed them.

Since that moment in the laundry room, she’d tried to keep her
head on straight. She didn’t dare get so wrapped up in Jonah, in the life they
shared here, that she forgot the danger. She could feel herself leaning into
him, depending on him. That was how she’d been with Barrett when they were first
married. That thought chilled her, as it should. She made herself think it
often.

Evan strode up to them, clearly proud of himself. “What did you
think?” he asked eagerly.

“They’re great,” Cara said. “You filled the place.”

“Yeah. Carlos is seeing dollar signs. Thanks for the dinner at
the café. The food was great.”

“They seemed to go wild for the good-luck buns,” she said.

“I know. The band’s manager was impressed. He says if they
score a contract in L.A., he might have a publicity job for me.”

She felt Jonah go still beside her. He worried about Evan’s
sobriety if he got too deeply into the music industry, but he’d been trying not
to criticize him.

Evan was waiting for Jonah’s reaction. Cara crossed her fingers
that he’d say something helpful.

He glanced at her, then seemed to dig deep before he spoke to
his brother. “I hope you get the job you want.”

“Yeah?” Evan looked stunned. “You mean that?”

Jonah nodded.

“I know you’re afraid I’ll relapse,” Evan said, “but I’m not
cocky like I was. I check in more with my sponsor. I watch myself. I’m
different, I swear.”

“I’ve been in your face your whole life, Ev. It’s time I
stepped back.” Jonah paused. “I’m there if you need me. No questions asked.”

“I appreciate that,” Evan said, his voice shaky. Abruptly, he
threw his arms around his brother and hugged him.

Now Jonah looked stunned. “I’m proud of you,” he said
huskily.

“I won’t let you down, Jonah.”

They broke apart. Neither could meet each other’s gaze.

“Gotta check the sound,” Evan mumbled and slipped into the
crowd.

“I hope I did right,” Jonah said to Cara. “He’s walking a wire
with no net.”

“You’re his net. He knows that.”

“In AA they call that enabling.” He smiled wryly.

“You’re telling him you trust him. That’s what he needs from
you.”

“He’s a grown man, not a kid I have to nag to brush his teeth.
He’s got to make his own way.”

“You’ve changed your attitude.”

“You started me thinking that day we looked through my box of
childhood crap. I’m about ready to track down our mother, see what she has to
say for herself. It would help him to hear it wasn’t his fault.”

“And for you?”

“It might be good for me, too.” He gave a swift smile. “Looks
like you renovated me along with the café.”

“It wasn’t me.
You
made the
changes, not me.”

“You showed me things I’ve missed.” He shook his head. “Jesus,
enough. I sound like I’m on a talk show.” He gazed at her with so much
tenderness her heart felt like it might burst in her chest.

I love you, Jonah.

Cara almost said it out loud, but caught herself in time. Not
saying it didn’t change how she felt, or how much it would hurt to leave when it
was time. Talk about a snarl.

She refused to regret it, despite the pain to come. They were
helping each other heal at a crucial moment in their lives. When it was time,
they would send each other off on their separate journeys with champagne and
confetti, high spirits and hopes.

And a broken heart.
Maybe two, if Jonah felt the same.

* * *

“S
URPRISE
!”
The shout was so loud it seemed to make the
helium balloons sway over the café tables. Jonah grinned as Cara turned his way,
her jaw hanging open, her blue eyes huge.

“You said a quiet birthday dinner!”

He laughed. “That’s why they call it a
surprise party.
”

“Oh, my goodness.” She turned back to the people gathered
around her—a bigger crowd than he’d expected, but Cara warmed everyone she met.
Of course they’d want to wish her well on her birthday. “I’m… I don’t know what
to say. Just…thank you.”

“’Bout time you got here,” Rosie said. “They’ve about scarfed
up the pantry waiting on you.” Rosie had made most of the calls, surprising
Jonah with her enthusiasm. She loved the hell out of Cara.

Jonah couldn’t take his eyes off Cara as she moved through the
café, mingling, touching a shoulder, sharing a laugh, accepting a hug. She meant
so much to him. She’d turned him around, eased his grief, filled his life with
warmth and laughter and life.

And desire.

Lots of that. All he could think about was getting her alone
again. He wanted to give her his birthday gifts and then he wanted to take her
to bed.

It almost hurt to look at her. He had it bad.

He went to get a pitcher to refill people’s glasses with the
fresh-squeezed lemonade Cara had insisted they offer. She’d been right about
that. And the changes to the café. It looked new, fresh and bright. But then so
did the world now that he’d been sleeping with her.

Colors were more vivid. Sunset burned his eyes. Food tasted
richer. Smells knocked him dead. The wood he worked felt alive.

And Cara. Cara hit him hardest of all. A glance across the café
made his knees cave, the brush of her hips in the kitchen electrified him.

They couldn’t keep their hands off each other, sneaking into
the pantry for stolen kisses when they could, exchanging hot looks when they
couldn’t. He didn’t think he’d felt like this with Suzanne, not even at the
beginning.

Every time he kissed Cara, he got the same rush, as strong and
fresh as the first time their lips had met. He was glad they’d worked out a way
to be together. He felt good. He felt…happy.

And uneasy as hell.

If it hurt to take his eyes off her now, he didn’t want to
think how he’d feel when she left for good. What would he do with himself? Hide
in his cave, pull the covers back over his head?

No. The whole point was to enjoy what they had, then move on,
all the better for the time they’d spent together.

Still, he felt like he walked on loose boards. Any minute, he’d
crash through to the basement below and break a leg…or worse.

An hour later, Cara blew out the candles on the cake Beth Ann
had made her, Rosie at her side. “Pay attention, you all,” Rosie barked out.
“Now I got you hostage to the cake, I want to say a few words. Lift your damn
drinks.”

Around the café, glasses rose. No one argued with Rosie
Underhill.

“Here’s to CJ,” Rosie said, raising her lemonade. “Who has
messed up my life, plain and simple. Taken over my spare rooms, made me eat
salad and forced me to sell off half my inventory and most of my heirlooms.”

“You mean that sad pile of junk?” Carver Johnson called out
amiably. Laughter rippled through the room.

“You shut up, you old goat. Then there’s her daughter. Not only
can she whip me in poker, she’s got me hooked on these housewife reality shows.
I never saw so many fake boobs in my life.”

Everyone laughed.

“And don’t get me started on this café. Lord God what CJ’s done
in here. Painted it up like Disneyland, filled it with sweet rolls, pissed off
the bistro girls by using up my garden…and stealing their customers.”

“Hear, hear!” Carver called.

“Now we’re so damn busy we had to hire back Darlene and start
serving out on the patio.”

Jonah had laid down flagstone and they’d set out colorful
umbrellas over the tables.

“Yay, Darlene,” someone called.

“But that’s not the worst. The absolute
worst
is how she bosses me around. I believe they call that
elder abuse.
”

More laughter.

“She dragged me to the doctor, forced me to have surgery and
nagged me about more medicine. Her daughter wasted her birthday wish on me.” She
gave Beth Ann a soft look, then cleared her throat.

“Basically, she’s been another Eddie Underhill. And, trust me,
no one needs two of that man.”

The crowd hummed quietly.

Rosie turned to Cara. “If I had the brains God gave a beagle, I
would have paid you for that first shift and sent you down the road to a real
mechanic.”

“Hey, now,” Rusty hollered. “Fast, cheap and good. Pick
two.”

The laughter was quiet, as people sensed Rosie was going to
announce something. Jonah hoped like hell she’d decided on chemotherapy.

“But I let you stay, sad to say. And now, it looks like I have
no choice but to get shot up with poison and strafed by lasers.”

“You’ll get treated?” Cara asked. “Really?”

“If that’s what it takes to get you and your pit bull of a
daughter out of my personal business.”

Beth Ann threw her arms around Rosie’s waist and hugged
her.

“Hey, now. You’re spilling my lemonade.” But when Beth Ann let
go, Rosie put her arm around her and held her close as she lifted her glass.
“So, a toast to CJ on her birthday. And good luck to the poor sucker she picks
on next.”

Shouts of “Hear, hear”
filled the
room, along with applause and whistling. Rosie cut the sheet cake, handing the
plates to Beth Ann and her friend Rachel, who carried them to the guests. Jonah
stood toward the back of the room.

“Here.” Beth Ann thrust a paper plate at him. “Is it okay if me
and Rachel use your computer?”

“Sure. The Instant Message shortcut is on the desktop, since
the task bar was so full.”

Her eyes shot to his, alarmed.

“It’s fine that you added it.”

“Please don’t tell my mom, okay? She won’t let me be online,
but I’m always safe and I only talk to friends. Please.”

“Sure,” he said, but he didn’t think Cara would mind. It was
probably leftover hovering.

After the cake had been eaten, the guests trailed out. Darlene,
Charlie and Ernesto had cleanup duties, so Jonah and Cara went to say goodbye to
Rosie. “You made the right decision,” Jonah said. “Eddie would be proud.”

“How would you know? You never met the man.” She patted his
cheek so hard it hurt, the way she used to when they’d lived with her, the
mother they’d needed at the time.

“Then
I’m
proud of you. I want you
around.”

“God knows why. All I do is give you hell.”

“It’s good for me. Keeps me in line.”

“And don’t you forget it.” She studied him. “I have to stick
around a bit longer to see what comes of this.” She waved her hand between Jonah
and Cara.

“What?” Jonah said.

Cara gulped.

“Oh, cut it out. Like it’s not obvious the way you moon over
each other. Bunny says it’s nice that you both like movies so much, since you
watch them almost every night.”

Jonah swallowed. Cara turned pink.