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He wasn’t sure what else to do. Obviously, Crystal hadn’t tracked him down to faint in his driveway and then go merrily on her way. But what she wanted remained a complete mystery—and from his experience, Crystal always wanted something. That’s what had gotten him into trouble before.
With one hand on the wobbly woman’s arm, Zak led the way into his house. His home was one of the modern few in Redemption, Oklahoma, a small historic town populated with big, beautiful turn-of-the-century Victorians and pretty little cottages. Today, he especially appreciated the lack of tall steps.
Once inside his spacious, slightly cluttered, ultra-male living room, the three children flocked around the mother like chicks around a hen.
“Mama, you want me to change Bella?” Mr. Serious asked, still toting the diaper bag.
“Yes, Brandon.” Crystal took the little girl by the arm and pushed her toward Brandon. “Go over there in the corner, Bella. Brandon will change you.”
Zak felt sorry for the boy, but it wasn’t his place to interfere. “Can I get you some water or a Pepsi or something?”
She shook her head. “Nothing for me. The kids are probably starving.”
Crystal was still Crystal. Needy and unembarrassed to ask. “I’ve got baloney and wieners.” What could she expect? He was a guy. Sandwiches and ’dogs were his mainstay. “Will they eat that?”
“Anything.”
Jilly, who’d helped herd the children inside, spoke up. “I can make sandwiches, Zak.”
Thank goodness for Jilly. He was a little rattled at the moment. “Thanks.”
Jilly disappeared into his kitchen, knowing her way around from the many times they’d hung out. She was a pal like no other. And she made sandwiches and herded unfamiliar rug rats. Great neighbor.
“What’s this little dude’s name?” he asked, chin hitched toward the yowler with a thumb in his face. The boy looked a little old for thumb-sucking.
“This is Jake. He’s almost seven. That’s Brandon. He’s nine. And Bella. She’s three.”
“Cute kids,” he said politely although inside he was going loco. His heart thundered like a spring storm, his palms leaked sweat and every rational brain cell suspected an unpleasant reason for Crystal’s visit. “So what’s going on, Crystal? We haven’t seen each other in what? Ten years?”
“About that.” A ghost of a smile pulled at her gaunt cheeks, more of a grimace than joy. “I was really stupid back then, Zak.”
Wary of apologies at this juncture, his anxiety jacked up another notch. “We were college kids. Stupid is normal.”
She fidgeted; her skinny hands twisted in her lap. From the kitchen came the sound of Jilly digging in the fridge, cellophane crumpling—normal sounds—while in his living room sat the biggest mistake of his life.
“I shouldn’t have gone with Tank that second time.” Her smile was wan. “Or the third. He was a jerk. Just like you said.”
Tank Rogers had gotten her pregnant and dumped her—on Zak. Then, the creep had come back “for his woman.”
“That was a long time ago, Crystal.”
Her sigh was tired and whispery and full of regret. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life. I don’t want my kids to suffer for them.”
Okay, what did that have to do with him? He sat with hands gripped together between his knees and waited her out, not knowing what else to do.
“I don’t suppose you have a cigarette,” she said.
“No.”
She made a wry face. “I thought about quitting, but now I figure, what’s the use? I’m sick, Zak.” She drew in a shuddery breath. Hollow eyes focused on the boy in the corner changing his sister’s diaper. “The doctors stopped treatment last week. I have cancer. I’m dying.”
Even though he barely remembered this woman, other than the humiliation he’d received at her hands, the pitiful statement made him ache. He was a certified paramedic/firefighter, a serve-and-protect kind of guy, who liked people and wanted the best for them. Crystal was too young to die and leave behind three kids.
He shifted, cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.” Sorry seemed a pathetically useless word in the face of death.
“That’s why I looked you up, why I’ve driven across the state to find you. You have to help me.”
Now they were getting down to the purpose of her visit, although he was still clueless. The sweat on the back of his neck said her reasons wouldn’t be good. “You need money? I don’t have a lot but maybe I can manage something.”
She shook her head. Her gaunt body sagged against the fat pillow of his napping chair. “No.”
“You sure you don’t want to go to the E.R.?” Even a paramedic was limited in what he could do without equipment.
She brushed away the suggestion like a gnat. “No time, Zak. Please hear me out.”
“Okay. Talk, but if you pass out again, you’re going.”
With effort, she gripped the chair arms and straightened. “Remember those days at college when you and I first got together?”
“Sure.” How could he forget? She was pregnant with some other guy’s baby, helpless and clingy, and he was an eighteen-year-old who thought he was the answer to her problems. She’d come to him, crying and needy, and he’d let her tears convince him to do something stupid.
Jilly reentered the living room, bearing a tall glass of orange juice, which she handed to Crystal. “You should drink something.”
Zak noticed the grass stains on Jilly’s shoes and the blades of grass stuck to the back of her shorts-clad legs. She’d raced to the rescue without a thought, leaving behind her uncut grass.
“Thanks,” Crystal said wanly. She wrapped skinny fingers around the glass but didn’t drink.
“I have sandwiches at the table if your kids are hungry.” Jilly barely got the words out of her mouth when the trio launched themselves toward the dining room. Eyes wide, Jilly looked to Zak who shrugged. What did he know about Crystal’s brood? Jilly hunched her shoulders and made a cute face. “I’ll make sure they wash their hands,” she said and hurried after them.
Crystal waited until the noise died down and Jilly’s voice drifted between the rooms. Then she said, “You were the only person who ever treated me with respect.”
What could he say except, “Thanks, I guess.”
She smiled again, that odd stretching of cheeks too thin to handle the movement. “I should have stayed with you, Zak. I’m sorry for what I did. For the way I did it.”
The unexpected visit was beginning to make sense. Crystal was seeking closure before she died. She wanted to make amends for her past mistakes, to the people she’d wronged. He couldn’t help but wonder if there were others besides good old Zak Ashford on her list.
“If you came all this way to apologize,” he said, “consider everything forgiven and forgotten. I have no bad feelings if that’s what’s worrying you.” In fact, he never thought of her at all. Hadn’t in years. “We did a dumb thing, but you took care of it and we both moved on.”
Crystal set the untouched juice on his ottoman. Her hand shook. She grasped it with the other in her lap and squeezed, her fingers turning white as a hospital sheet. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Zak. I didn’t take care of it. Never did.” She swallowed. “We’re still married.”
Chapter Two
Jilly lost her breath. She grabbed hold of the table edge to keep from crumbling the way Crystal had and strained to hear the voices coming from the living room.
Zak was married?
She put a hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. She was in love with a married man?
Oh, Lord, what have I done? Why hadn’t Zak told her? They’d been fast friends since the day he’d moved in across the street and she’d loaned him a pipe wrench. How could he keep such a thing from her?
“Can I have more milk?” the smallest boy asked, holding up an empty glass.
With horror, she considered the three kids gathered around Zak’s small, round table, cramming food into their mouths by the fistful. Were these Zak’s children?
“Sure.” The word came out in a croak. Numbly, she went to the fridge and poured more milk.
The blood that had drained from her head came roaring back to pound at her eardrums. She had to get out of here. She had no business listening in on this conversation, although she wanted every sickening detail. Common courtesy and the desire not to make a fool of herself kicked in. She slapped a package of Zak’s favorite cookies on the table. “You can each eat three. Okay?”
The oldest boy, Brandon, nodded. “I’ll pass them out.”
“Thanks.” Not wanting Zak to know how upset she was, she took a minute to regain her composure, straightened her back and patted her hot cheeks. Then she walked as calmly as possible into the living room. The conversation ceased. “The kids are eating. I’ll be at home if you need anything.”
To his credit, Zak looked as he had the day he’d taken a line drive in the gut—stunned and speechless, like a fish out of water, his mouth open, searching for air. Clearly, he was not expecting Crystal to show up and reclaim their wedding vows. But she had. Without another word, because she wasn’t sure she could say anything sensible, Jilly bolted out the door and raced home.
Mind in a muddle and heart pounding as hard as her sneakered feet, she blasted into the safe confines of the tidy frame house, the family home she shared with her mother. Two rat terriers met her, going airborne with excitement as though they hadn’t seen her in a week. She caught Mugsy in mid-jump as he bounded to her knee and then catapulted against her chest. Satchmo, older and less excitable, plopped at her feet and looked up in adoration. Behind the wiry duo of terriers came her mother.
“What in the world is wrong? Did you get stung? Let me get the spray and I’ll show those wasps a thing or two.” Diane Fairmont waged an ongoing battle with a horde of red wasps that had taken residence years ago inside the eaves of her home. At fifty-six with ash-blond hair, much darker roots and too many cheesecakes on her hips, Diane also battled diabetes and high blood pressure. Jilly did not want her mother getting in a tizzy for any reason, certainly not red wasps.
“No, Mom. No wasps. I’m fine. Just…” She clapped her mouth shut, not wanting to discuss Zak’s personal life. She already took enough guff from her mom and two younger sisters about her friendship with the handsome fireman across the street. They would have a field day with this information. Living at home with her mother had its good points but the overinterest in Jilly’s love life was not one of them.
“Then what is it?” Mom insisted. “You’re white as a ghost.”
Which meant every freckle on her face stood at rust-colored attention. Had Zak noticed?
“Maybe I got too hot.”
“I thought you went over to Zak’s.” Mom went to the window and pulled back the curtain to gaze out. “Didn’t I see a woman and some kids in his yard?”
Great. Mom had seen Crystal. Zak’s wife. Jilly’s insides started to shake. A wave of nausea pushed at the back of her throat. Zak had a wife. “I need some water.”
Hurrying past her frowning mother, Jilly ran a glass of tap water and kept right on going through the laundry room and out the back door. She needed time to think about the stunning revelation. Time to peel the pieces of her shattered heart off the sides of her chest cavity.
Mugsy and Satchmo trotted along, eager for a run in the backyard. “Stay inside. Back.”
The terriers skidded to a halt, dejected but obedient. Sorry to disappoint her two babies, she reached down and picked up the Frisbee from the back porch step and tossed it through the house. The two dogs zipped off after their favorite toy, happy again. She wished she could be that easily mollified.
Glad to be alone, Jilly walked to the left corner of the fenced backyard. Beneath a sprawling, thirty-foot maple, planted years ago by her now-deceased father, three pairs of pink eyes gazed out at her from a rabbit hutch. Fat, fluffy and friendly, all of them rescue rabbits dumped after Easter when they were no longer tiny and adorable, the trio awaited her attention.
People thought she was a soft touch, especially her sisters, but with a career as assistant to Dr. Trace Bowman, veterinarian, what did they expect? She loved animals.
She also loved Zak Ashford.
With a distressed moan, she opened the hutch, lifting each one to the grass. Then she plopped down beside them for a cuddle. Faith and Hop wiggled from her lap to explore. Lucky, the one-eared mini-lop who’d had a close encounter with a cat, remained where he was, snuggled safe in Jilly’s arms. She pressed her face into his silky silver fur.
“He’s married, Lucky,” she whispered. “I don’t know what to do.”
Lucky, the good listener, sniffed the side of her face, whiskers tickling.
“Why didn’t I know? Why didn’t he tell me?” The shock had begun to wear off, but she still felt as if she’d swallowed a hot brick. She was in love with a married man. The bold fact of that statement went against everything she believed in. Wanting someone else’s husband was a sin, a direct violation of the Ten Commandments.
And Lord help her, she didn’t know how to stop.
Zak stared into the face of his past, stomach churning, sweat beading and wished he could run out the door and follow Jilly. He wanted to be anywhere but here with Crystal.
“You can’t be serious,” he said, incredulous. “You left me a note. You said you had filed for divorce.”
“I meant to.” She shrugged. “But you know how I am. I got busy and things happened…”
He recalled the helpless girl who couldn’t remember to pay her electric bill, but a marriage dissolution was a tad more important. She’d wanted Tank Rogers, not Zak Ashford. That should have been enough to help her remember.
At the time, he’d been embarrassed by her betrayal, humiliated to have been duped by her pretty face and the way she’d wrapped him around her finger with her sob stories. He’d felt sorry for her. She’d been raised in the foster system, had no one to turn to, and Zak’s ego was stroked by being her savior, the go-to guy who could make everything better. So much so that he’d followed her to the courthouse and married her to, as she’d put it, “give her baby a name.”
The memory struck terror in him. “Your kids?” The chatter in the dining room made him lower his voice. “Whose—” He didn’t know how to ask if his name was on their birth certificates. “Do you still use my name?”
“It’s my name, too, Zak, so yeah, sometimes.” Zak could hear the “when it’s convenient” behind the words. That’s the way Crystal had done everything. Whatever was easy and convenient. “But Brandon and Jake have Tank’s last name—Rogers. He insisted.”
Zak nodded, so relieved he thought he’d slither off the couch. “Good.”
“Bella has yours.”
An electric shock went through him. “What?”
She shrugged again and smiled, a glimmer of the charming-as-sin young woman she’d been coming through. “I had to put something.”
“What about her father?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t sure. He wasn’t around. I wanted her to have someone good—”
Zak grabbed his head with both hands to keep it from exploding. “Whoa, Crystal, this is insane.”
“I didn’t think it mattered. You wouldn’t know.”
“You didn’t think it mattered?” This woman was a nut job. And he was married to her!
“I wouldn’t have come to you now if I hadn’t been desperate.”
He’d heard that before. The day she’d showed up at his apartment with bruises on her cheek crying that Tank had left her for good. He’d fallen for it then, but he was older and wiser now.
“Okay,” he said, heart leaping around like one of Jilly’s terriers. “Let’s deal with this and get it over with. I’ll pay for a divorce.” He wrestled with that for a moment but won. As a man of faith, he didn’t believe in divorce but this was different. Wasn’t it? “An annulment would be better. We weren’t married that long. What, a few weeks? A month?”
“Nearly ten years now.”
“Stop it, Crystal. We’re not married, never were. We had a piece of paper, and I gave you a place to stay and a sympathetic shoulder. We weren’t in love. I filled a need until Tank wanted you back.” He felt like a jerk for saying these things to her, but they’d been in the back of his head since the day he’d come in from class and found a note propped with a banana against his pillow.
“I never meant to hurt you, Zaky.” The old, juvenile endearment grated on him. He’d fallen for it back when he was a boy, but he was a man now.
This was the way with Crystal. Charming and manipulative in an innocent way, she never intended any of the foolish things she did.
