Bea Read Free Page B

in her life had she lost so much control with a man. She’d endure his music if it killed her—and it just might. Already her stomach was in knots and her throat felt tight. She never heard country and western without thinking of her father’s betrayal.
    “Do you like it?” he yelled.
    “Love it.” She gave him a Cheshire-cat grin.
    He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in time to the music. Any fool could see she hated his music. Good. The more he ruffled her feathers, the better off he was. He never should have stopped for her in the first place. And he certainly never should have gone back for her.
    They’d soon be to Pearcy, though. He’d leave her then, leave her and never look back.

Chapter Two
    “This is Pearcy?”
    Bea could count the buildings of Main Street on one hand—the small red-brick post office, a dilapidated garage that doubled as a service station, Freddy’s General Store, and a beauty shop, its painted sign nearly as big as the whitewashed shed that supported it.
    “Afraid so.”
    “Are you sure this is the closest town?”
    “Maybe I’m going blind. Did you see another town on this road?”
    “There was a turnoff a mile back. It might go somewhere civilized.”
    “It might go straight to New York City.”
    Russ turned up his music. Just to aggravate her more, he whistled along. Whistling was a special talent of his. Not only could he carry the tune, he could whistle louder than any other kid in the fifth grade. That’s when he’d learned.
    He looked at her out of the corner of his eye to see how she was taking it. Poorly, judging by the way her nose pinched in and her mouth pursed together.
    He’d be rid of her soon. He slowed his truck, peering around for somebody, anybody, to take charge of Bea Adams. There was not a soul in sight. Nor was there a sound. Apparently everybody had gone home from church, just vanished into the hills and hollows of the Quachita and shut themselves up in their dark houses.
    “Would you turn that obnoxious noise down so I can think?” she said.
    “What are you thinking about?” He turned the volume down a notch. “Whose head you’re going to put on a platter first?”
    “I already know that—the man who serviced my car in Dallas.” She swiveled to look behind her. “Did you try that garage back there?”
    “I whistled twice, but it didn’t come.”
    “Cute.”
    “I’m as eager to end this liaison as you are. The garage is closed, but I did spot a motel around the corner.”
    “Is it clean?”
    “If it’s not, I’m sure they’ll give you a mop and a bucket.”
    With Bea sitting in stoic silence beside him, Russ turned down a narrow side street and drove toward the flashing neon lights. He stopped in front of a dingy motel office.
    Bea sat very still, trying not to feel defeated. Orange and green lights played across her face, proclaiming that there was a vacancy in Paradise. It looked more like Hell to her.
    “I suppose this is the end of the line.” She even managed a smile.
    Russ surprised himself by liking her smile. He didn’t want to like her smile, so he hurried out of the truck and began to unhook her car. She got out on the other side and unloaded her suitcase then waited on the cracked, dusty sidewalk.
    “Well, Toots—” Russ joined her “—it looks like there’s somebody in the office to get you settled for the night.”
    Bea pulled her billfold out of her purse. “How much do I owe you?”
    “Let’s see. I reckon I used about six dollars worth of gas.”
    “You come cheap.” She handed him a twenty.
    “Since you entertained me so royally, and since I don’t have any change, we’ll call it even.” He tucked the money back into her hand.
    “We made a deal.”
    “I changed my mind. Chivalry might be ailing, but it’s not dead yet.” He climbed into his truck and waved out the window. “See you, Toots.”
    He left her standing there in her high-heeled boots and short black skirt with her suitcase at