Son of a Preacher Man

chapter Two


“Sandra, should I go androgynous or professionally sexy?” Nadya asked, her cell phone on speaker.

“You’re meeting with the old town lawyer who doesn’t believe in technology, right?”

“Yes. My appointment is in an hour and a half. If I don’t get moving soon, I’m going to be late, but I’m dithering over what to wear. I feel like an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot—you’re preparing for a meeting with an unknown. Are your hair and makeup done?”

“Yes. Understated makeup, French twist with the hair, pearl earrings and matching necklace.”

“Gold watch?”

“Yup. I just don’t know whether to wear the pinstriped suit or the black skirt and jacket.”

“Go for the skirt. It says you’re not afraid of your femininity but you’re all business. Do you have a lacy camisole to go under it?”

“No, but my slip has lace.”

“Perfect. If you need to manipulate the old bastard, unbutton the suit jacket until the lace shows.”

Nadya laughed and felt ten times better as she hung up. Sandra was right, she was preparing for the unknown. Now that she thought about it, it was more like she was gearing up for battle. A battle she’d been fighting most of her adult life.

With every accomplishment she’d earned, a part of her said, “Take that!” to the people of Dale who thought she’d never amount to anything. That was why she’d used her last bonus to buy the black BMW. Having a car in the city was an enormous expense. It would have made more sense to fly down and rent a car, but she’d gone out and bought the BMW as soon as the check cleared.

No one would believe the poor gypsy girl with the wild hair and hand-me-down clothes would drive into Dale in a foreign luxury car wearing pearls and a five-hundred-dollar suit. Maybe she’d take a stroll down Main Street just to let all the local gossips get a good look at her Jimmy Choo shoes and Kate Spade bag.

Lord, if her mama hadn’t been cremated, she’d be turning over in her grave right about now. Nadya laughed at herself as she slid into the leather interior of the BMW. Expensive trappings had never mattered to Tala, and seeing Nadya dressed like one of the gadzé would have made her mama shake her head in disgust.

The drive to Dale was only thirty miles, but it was all winding, narrow, tree-lined roads. At least they were all paved now. When she was growing up, much of the route into the hills had been gravel.

Acid churned in her stomach as she approached the town limits. God, she’d thought she’d never see this place again. She’d placed Dale firmly in her past the day she’d found out what the good people of the town did to her home based on the jealous ravings of one woman. What the hell was she doing back here? Was whatever her mother left for her worth seeing this place again? Bringing back all the memories of the cuts and slurs that had been heaped upon her her entire life?

Yes. If for no other reason than to shove it in their faces that she’d made it. While they were still living in the back end of beyond, she was in New York City working for a prestigious law firm.

The sign declaring Dale, Georgia, population 322 looked old and weathered. The gilt lettering had faded completely, and the black numbers were a watery gray now. Its state reflected the town itself. Several shops she remembered from her childhood were abandoned with faint For Sale or Lease signs in the windows. Weeds sprouted up through cracks in the sidewalk and were about the only things growing. She guessed even the Georgia sun couldn’t bake kudzu.

Nadya glanced at the lawyer’s address again to make sure she had the right place. The small, glass-fronted store looked more like a pharmacy than a law office. She hadn’t expected an office complex like the one she worked in, but this was ridiculous. Sure enough though, hanging off the door knob was a sign stating this was the office of one Marshal T. Hornblower, Esquire.

Bracing herself for the heat and humidity, she checked her appearance in the rearview mirror and reapplied her lipstick before stepping out of the air-conditioned coolness of the car.

“Mama, if you’re listening, help me through this.”

The heat hit her like a wet slap, and sweat immediately beaded up between her breasts. She was thankful she’d ditched the idea of nylons. The jacket she wore wasn’t exactly cool, but at least the meager breeze could waft across her bare legs.

A dog of undetermined breed barked unenthusiastically at her from next door where it was tied in the shade of the green-and-white-striped overhang. It didn’t even bother to get up. Did it ever get this hot in New York?

Nadya knocked at the door, then entered at a hollered, “Come on in!”

It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust from the bright sunlight to the dimness of the office—such as it was. The glass window was covered by a blind that was frayed around the edges. A ceiling fan spun lazily overhead, and a window air-conditioning unit chugged away at the back of the office. There was only one desk out front and a small kitchenette in the back corner.

“I’ll be right with you,” the same voice that had told her to come in called from behind the refrigerator door.

Seconds later, an older gentleman who could have been Colonel Sanders’s twin brother, complete with white suit and trimmed beard, backed out from the depths of the fridge with two sweating glasses of iced tea.

“You must be Nadze…ah…Nadzedha Sarvo?”

“You can call me Nadya. And you’re Mr. Hornblower?”

“Yes indeedie. Why don’t you sit down here and have a glass of tea while I get your papers in order?”

“Thank you.” Nadya bit back the urge to tell him to get on with it. This was the South, and there was no such thing as getting straight to business. She’d have to make polite chitchat for close to half an hour before he finally got to the point as to why she was here. Might as well sit in the uncomfortable guest chair and bide her time.

Her gaze wandered the room as she sipped the sweet tea. It had enough sugar in it to keep ten dentists employed full time, but was ice-cold and refreshing. She sat up straighter when she spotted a fairly modern computer right next to a printer/copier/fax machine similar to the one she had in her office.

She’d been had.

“Excuse me, Mr. Hornblower? I thought you told me you couldn’t fax me the paperwork I needed to sign? I see you have a fax machine right there.”

“I didn’t say I couldn’t. I said I was unable to. My client wished for you to receive the information in person.”

“Really? When, exactly, did my mother retain you? She hasn’t been in Dale for twelve years, and I don’t remember there being a lawyer’s office here when we left.”

“Wasn’t your mama who retained me. It was your daddy.”

All the blood drained out of her head as she stared at the old man. Her ears heard the words, but her brain couldn’t process the information. Her father had retained the lawyer? What? If she could have felt her legs, she’d have gotten up and walked right out of the office, but she was afraid she’d fall on her face, her legs were so numb.

“I thought you said you had paperwork I needed from my mama?” was all she managed to say.

“No, I said I had some paperwork from your deceased parent. You jumped to the conclusion it was your mama, and I didn’t correct you.”

“I see.” Sneaky bastard. What would her father want with her now? She was thirty years old. “Wait, you said deceased parent. Does that mean my father is dead?”

“I’m ’fraid so. Your daddy was a good friend of mine, and it was his dying wish that I contact you with the details of his will. I have a letter here for you from him.”

“I don’t want it. I didn’t care what he had to say when he was alive. I damn well don’t care what he has to say now that he’s dead.”

“Don’t you even want to know who he is? What he left you in his will?”

“No. If that’s all, I’ll be leaving now.” Her legs were wobbly when she stood, but they held her up.

“Now just hold on there a minute. Tell you what I’m gonna do. You’ve had a mighty big shock. Why don’t you think about things for a day or two, and if you decide you want to hear what your daddy had to say, well, I’ll be here. If you don’t have the courage to face the truth, you can just run on back to New York and I’ll lock the papers in my safe.”

Her temper flared at the insult, but she bit her tongue before she could respond to the bait. She’d had years of practice controlling her temper; she wasn’t going to blow her top because this hillbilly called her a coward.

“Good day, Mr. Hornblower. I’ll see myself out.” Nadya gathered her purse and fled the office with all the decorum she could considering her brain was on autopilot.

The sun and heat assaulted her once again, but this time she barely registered the attack. All she wanted to do was get away before she did something stupid like turn around and beg the old bastard for the information. She was on the road to her former home before she realized it.

Old habits are hard to break.

Whenever she’d felt confused or upset, she’d always retreated to the safety of the woods and her special spot. Here she was again, heading for her sanctuary without even realizing it. The cabin was as good a place as any to regroup though, so she continued on to Deer Creek Road.

The twists and turns were as familiar to her as an old shoe. This part of town had never had any stores or development so there was nothing to fall on hard times. The trees might be a little taller, but they were still the same. There was a sign nailed to a tree by the turn-off to her drive that stated No Trespassing—that was new, but that was about it.

For the first time in years, a sense of peace washed over her as she carefully turned into the drive. Stones pinged off the underside of her car, but she didn’t care. The trees formed a canopy that shaded her from the intensity of the sun, so she rolled her windows down and continued to creep forward.

There was the tree she’d sideswiped when she’d first gotten her license. She’d been so proud of the car she’d bought with her own money. The rundown station wagon had cost five hundred dollars. She’d worked nights and weekends and any time Mrs. Farley, her friend Mary Ellen’s mom, had needed her in order to earn the money. It wasn’t worth the money it took to fill the gas tank, but it had gotten them out of Dale.

Damn, she’d been so wrapped up in the bombshell Hornblower dropped on her, she hadn’t stopped to see if Mrs. Farley’s general store was still there. She hoped it hadn’t been one of the places with For Sale or Lease signs in the window. It would be nice to see Mrs. Farley again, and maybe find out what Mary Ellen was doing. They’d lost touch after Nadya had left Georgia. She’d spent every free moment either studying to keep up her GPA so she wouldn’t lose her scholarship or working as many hours as she could just to pay living expenses. There hadn’t been time or money left over for long-distance phone calls.

Anticipation soared as she rounded the last curve before the cabin, then plummeted when she saw a police car parked smack dab in front of the porch. A police officer leaned against the squad car, his tanned arms crossed over his chest. The brim of his “Smokey the Bear” hat shaded his face.

Nadya parked the BMW and put on her best I-have-every-right-to-be-here expression before climbing out.

“Good afternoon, officer. I hope you don’t mind, but I used to live here and I wanted a quick visit before I left town.”

“You’ve only been back half an hour and you’re ready to leave already? Typical.”

Her breath caught in her chest as she got a good look at the officer who pushed himself off the car and confronted her. His green eyes squinted down at her seconds before his dimples flashed.

“Welcome home, Nadya.”



It was all J.T. could do to keep his cop face on and not burst out laughing at Nadya. Her mouth actually hung open. ‘Course, he’d probably resembled a landed fish when he ran the out-of-state license plates and her name had popped up. Never in a million years would he have expected to see Nadya Sarov back in Dale, forget driving a fancy car with New York plates.

Hot damn, but she grew up gorgeous. She’d been a looker at eighteen, but at thirty she was a stunner. Liquid-chocolate eyes stared up at him in stunned amazement. A mouth made for sin with full, red lips formed a shocked O. And her body was just as lush and fantasy inducing as it had been when he was a teenager. He could still see the full curve of her breasts and the tiny narrowness of her waist hidden beneath her black jacket.

“J.T. McBride?”

“That’s Officer McBride, ma’am.” He tipped his cap, enjoying the way her eyes looked up and down, focusing on the badge and name tag.

“If that’s not a kick in the teeth, I don’t know what is,” she said. A smile crossed her face. “What the hell are you doing back in Dale? I’d have thought this would be the last place you’d end up.”

Her eyes sparkled as she grinned up at him, and he felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Those damn gypsy eyes had haunted him for twelve f*cking years. The memories of their time by the creek had gotten him through hell and back in Fallujah.

After he’d gotten out of the Marines, he’d been at loose ends. His father had continued to preach but was living in Texas and didn’t have room for him in his tiny apartment. Thoughts of the creek—and Nadya—had continued to haunt him, so he’d returned to Dale to put them to rest.

Somehow, he’d ended up joining the police force and staying for the past five years.

“I felt the need to come back and defend my daddy’s honor.” It was as good an answer as any.

“Bet that wasn’t easy. At best, he’d been accused of falling for the charms of the gypsy whore. At worst, he was a fornicator. I heard you had it rough before you left.”

He shrugged it off. He’d been in more fights defending Nadya’s honor from Pansy’s lurid accusations than from his father’s refusal to back down to Orleane Campbell’s blackmail. “Some people think the worst of others to make themselves feel better. I just showed them the errors of their ways.”

“Still, that last month must’ve sucked.”

“It wasn’t how I’d planned on spending my days before Basic, that’s for sure.”

Nadya shot him a sly glance, her slanted eyes full of secrets. “So what are you doing way out here?”

Waiting for you. He’d known she wouldn’t be able to resist stopping by the cabin at least once. “I stopped to grab some lunch before I go back on duty.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“I rented the cabin when I moved back here.”

“Why?”

“The only other places for rent are in town. That’s a little too confining for me. This place is off the beaten track, and I can hear someone coming a good five minutes before they make it up the drive. I don’t like everyone knowing my business. And when I’m off duty, I don’t particularly want visitors.”

“Then this is the perfect place. Who do you rent it from? I never did know who our landlord was.” Her face went blank, as if the information wasn’t of any importance. The very lack of an expression clued him in that this was more than an idle question.

“A rental agency in Canton.”

“Oh. Guess you don’t know who your landlord is either then.”

“Nope. I just know when I have a problem, I call the agency and they send someone out to fix whatever it is that needs fixing. I pay my rent on time and no one bothers me. That’s the way I like it.”

“Good.” She seemed to collect herself. “I’m glad you’re living in the old place. I have a lot of good memories in that cabin.”

“And one really crappy one.” He was so glad she never saw the cabin with the windows smashed and graffiti across the porch.

“It’s been twelve years. I’ve put it behind me. The only thing I regret is that I lost touch with Mary Ellen Farley. She and her family were very good to Mama and me. Mary Ellen was my only friend growing up, and I didn’t even get to tell her goodbye.”

“That’s easy enough to fix. She’s probably at the store right now.”

“Really?” Her face brightened. “I was so distracted when I left the lawyer’s office, I didn’t even look. I was hoping the store hadn’t gone out of business.”

“Nope, it’s still there. They expanded it so it has a bakery and deli as well as selling everything from penny candy to motor oil.” Now why would she need to see a lawyer in Dale?

“I’ll have to stop in on my way back to Canton then.”

“You’re staying in the area? For how long?” And can I see you again while you’re here?

“I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

“Always is when you bring lawyers into the mix.”

“Hey, I’m a lawyer.”

“No foolin’? So that’s why the fancy clothes and car. I figured you’d make something of yourself. You always were smart.” He could see her wrapping a jury around her finger with one flicker of those beguiling eyes.

“I’m glad someone thought so. You were in the minority, that’s for sure.” Her face darkened for a moment, but then she gave him a practiced smile. “Well, it’s been great seeing you again, but I shouldn’t take up any more of your valuable time, Officer. I still can’t believe it. J.T. McBride, the boy who had a dedicated seat in detention, is now charged with upholding the law.”

“People change. It was good running into you. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Maybe.”

He let her get the last word in this time. Because he knew damn well he’d see her again.