Free After Dark by Beverly Barton Page B

with the gentle rush of the river.
Southern humidity seeped into the skin of man and beast alike, creating
a heat within and perspiration on the flesh. Even the buildings weren't
spared the effects of the weather, sweating and moaning and waiting for
the relief of autumn.
        As a young man, he had loved summertime.
Swimming in the river. Drinking cold beer over at Goodloe's Tavern. Watching
the girls walk by in their short-shorts. Getting all hot and sweaty by heating
up the sheets with a willing woman. And watching Lane Noble watching
him while he mowed their grass and pruned their hedges. He had usually
worked in cutoff jeans and without a shirt, getting himself a dark tan
and giving the ladies an eyeful.
        Johnny Mack chuckled. He had been
such a cocky SOB. A white trash rounder who hadn't had sense enough to
stay where he belonged. The ladies on Magnolia Avenue had been Off Limits
to him, but he hadn't let that stop him. He had sampled the delights of the
rich, pampered, spoiled debutantes- and a few of their mamas, too. But
he had drawn the line at bedding Mary Martha because he'd known she might
be his half sister. Even a bad boy like him had had his principles, few
that they were. And even a guy who had prided himself on screwing his way
through the country club set had known true quality when he had seen it,
when he'd touched it, when he'd loved it. And in his way, he had loved Lane.
God, he had worshiped Lane!
        She had represented everything
he had wanted, everything that was good and kind and genteel. Breeding
and character and a gentle heart. He had known that she was far too good
for the likes of him. But hell, she had been way too good for Kent Graham,
too. So why had she married the sorry son of a bitch? The thought of Kent
even touching Lane made him sick.
        With her mind a jumbled mass of
confusion, Lane escaped to the rose garden behind the house. She gazed
up at the night sky as memories long buried deep in her heart resurfaced.
Johnny Mack was back in town! Dear Lord, what was she going to do? She had
truly believed that she would never see him again, that he would never
return to Noble's Crossing.
        Will hated Johnny Mack. Kent had seen
to that with his vile, vindictive ranting, giving her son the worst possible
scenario of Johnny Mack's life from birth to twenty-one. She had known Kent
could be cruel, but until he had tried to destroy Will with his bitter
hatred, she hadn't realized just how cruel her ex-husband could be.
        God forgive her, she had wanted
Kent dead. And thoughts of killing him had crossed her mind. But except to
protect herself or Will, she never could have taken Kent's worthless
life. But someone else had done the deed for her. Someone who hated
Kent even more than she did. Someone who had been pushed over the edge.
        Her greatest fear was that Will
had murdered Kent. When she had found her son, dazed and confused, standing
over Kent's body, she had decided then and there that she would protect
her child, no matter what the cost to herself. She was as much at fault as
Kent or Sharon or Lillie Mae. She had been a perpetrator in the great hoax.
Every day of her married life, she had lied to her husband.
        I did it for Will.
        And for yourself, her conscience
reminded her. You wanted Johnny Mack's child. You would have done anything
to have prevented Sharon from aborting his baby.
        If only she could go back fifteen
years. No, she would have to go back farther than that. Back nineteen
years. Back to when she was fourteen. Back to the first moment she laid
eyes on Johnny Mack Cahill.
        But what good would going back in
time do? Would it change the fact that she had fallen head over heels in
love, the way only a young girl can? No, of course it wouldn't change the
inevitable. Nothing short of an act of God could have prevented her
from loving Johnny Mack. She hadn't chosen to love the town bad boy, the