After Dark by Beverly Barton Page A

had protested about Johnny Mack’s presence, Lane’s father had said, in his calm, yet authoritarian voice, “The poor boy needs someone to give him a chance. He has no one, except that drunken Wiley Peters, to see after him. I don’t like the idea of anyone going hungry, and I have an idea that Johnny Mack has gone to bed hungry more than once in his life.”
    â€œMark my word, Bill Noble, we will all rue the day you brought that young hellion into our lives!” Celeste had said. In retrospect, her statement had been eerily prophetic.
    After having overheard that conversation between her parents, Lane had made a point of checking out this dangerous boy. Sitting in the window seat in her upstairs bedroom, she had watched him as he mowed the grass and pruned the shrubs. She had been all of fourteen and filled with sexual urges she simply hadn’t understood. All she had known was that every time she looked at Johnny Mack Cahill, her body tingled and her mind created images of his muscular brown arms holding her close as he gave her her very first kiss.
    â€œTea’s ready.” Lillie Mae stood in the doorway, a silver tray in her hands. She smiled tentatively at Lane. A peace offering? Are you upset with me? Lillie Mae was asking silently. And if you are angry, will you forgive me for summoning Johnny Mack?
    â€œPut the tray over there.” Lane inclined her head toward the large mahogany desk with elaborate ribbon detailing on the drawers. “Please, pour us both a cup. Then come sit over here by me and we’ll talk.”
    Lillie Mae’s hesitant smile broadened, creasing lines into her pale cheeks. “We need him, Miss Lane. We need him bad. Otherwise, I never would have sent for him.”
    Lane only nodded, uncertain how she should or could react. She didn’t doubt for one minute that Lillie Mae had acted out of love and concern for Will and her. But she couldn’t share Lillie Mae’s certainty that Johnny Mack would be their savior. How could a man who had once wreaked so much havoc on this town, whose irresponsible acts had damaged so many lives, suddenly become the solution to their problems? If trouble possessed a name, that name was Johnny Mack Cahill.
    Lillie Mae handed Lane a Royal Doulton china cup filled with hot Earl Grey tea. No lemon. No sugar. No cream. “I figure that with him being fifteen years older, he’s not the same boy who left Noble’s Crossing in the dark of night, letting a lot of folks think he was dead. He’s thirty-six. Older and maybe a lot wiser. And I know for a fact that he’s got money. He’s been sending me a check every month for years now, and I’ve been putting it in a savings account in case you and Will ever needed it. If Johnny Mack don’t offer to pay for you a good out-of-town lawyer, we’ll use that money to do it.”
    Lane accepted the cup, then set it aside on the small table to her right and grasped Lillie Mae’s hand. “I love you dearly and I understand why you wrote to Johnny Mack, but…what makes you think he can help us?”
    Lillie Mae squeezed Lane’s hand as she looked into her eyes, her expression one of devotion and love. “Johnny Mack never took advantage of you, of your innocence, and we both know he could have. And when he left this town, he refused to take you with him. You’re the only woman I know he ever treated special. And I figure after you saved his life, he knew he owed you. All I did was call in your marker.”
    Lane released Lillie Mae’s hand, leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. “He told me that he’s very rich.”
    Lillie Mae eased her thin body down into the wing chair across from Lane. “I figured as much. He could hardly afford to send me so much money every month if he wasn’t.”
    â€œHe hired a private investigator who somehow got hold of Will’s original birth certificate.”