Welcome to Last Chance (Last Chance #1)(44)
Author: Hope Ramsay

She deserved another chance.

And anyway, he loved Jane. He believed in her. She was the center of his universe just like Chad was the center of Tricia’s universe. He wasn’t going to be stupid like Chad. He was a better man, by far, than that jerk.

Why hadn’t he seen this before?

He knew the answer right away. He’d been too busy looking at the bad things that had happened to see the good things. He’d made the mistake he always made. He forgot to count his blessings. He’d lost faith.

He was never going to do that again. If Jane had taught him one thing, it was that. There were positive things coming out of this disaster. All he had to do was look for them.

He was blessed. He had the good fortune to love a woman who could summon angels, even if they were just figments of a little girl’s mind.

She was his true love, not just some shadow of a love that he was going to settle for. This was a gift, not a complication. Love came straight from the higher powers of the Universe, and sometimes love was hard and painful. Love came from God Himself. You didn’t look a gift horse like that in the mouth. You accepted it.

And just like that, the hole in his stomach disappeared, and the emptiness in his heart filled up, and he knew that it would take more strength to walk away from Jane than to love her, even with all her imperfections. And with that knowledge came the understanding that he was no longer alone.

He turned on his heel, intent on getting himself back to Allenberg and the sheriff’s office. Jane needed his help more than Momma did. He would be guardedly optimistic about Momma, but in the meantime, he needed to rescue Jane before she got it in her head to run away again.

Clay headed down the hallway to the elevators and that’s as far as he got, because the elevator opened, and like some apparition that he had manifested through his own sheer will, out stepped Wanda Jane Coblenz, wearing an ugly orange jumpsuit and carrying a plastic bag that said “Allenberg County Jail” on it.

She looked like a hollow-eyed criminal in that getup, but there was determination in the set of her shoulders and a dry-eyed look on her face, and the handcuffs she’d lately worn were conspicuously absent.

“The FBI let you go?” Clay said and almost winced. This was not the way he wanted to start this conversation. But he couldn’t help feeling a little cheated. The woman was either Houdini or she had rescued herself—again.

“I’ve been cleared of all charges. Clay, I’m so sorry, but I had no way of knowing Woody would follow me here. I just wanted to get away from him and the loan sharks who were hounding him. Those guys took everything from me. All my money and my pride and…”

Her voice began to shake, but she was not crying this time. “Look,” she continued, “I know you don’t want me here. I know you probably hate me, but I came to apologize. To you and to everyone.”

“Oh, baby.” He reached out to caress her cheek. Her skin felt so wonderful under his hands. “Why would you apologize? None of this was your fault. We’re all grateful that you protected Haley the way you did.”

Jane opened her mouth and then closed it. Something relaxed in her face and her body. “I was coming here to fight for you,” she said.

“And I was heading out to the police station to rescue you,” he replied.

“I don’t need to fight, do I?”

“No, and it’s clear I don’t need to rescue you.” Despite his worry about Momma, he felt the smile hit his lips. It felt so good to smile in the face of uncertainty.

“I love you,” Jane said.

“I love you back.”

Clay stepped close enough to smell her shampoo and feel the heat coming off her body. Awareness jolted through him. It was like his body was tuned to hers or something. There was no doubt that she was the one for him. He reached for her with both hands, and she came into his arms like a lover and a friend. It felt like home with her there. Like it was meant to be.

“How’s Ruby?” she asked against his chest.

“She’s got a skull fracture. But it could be worse. I’m guardedly optimistic.”

“Really?” He heard a mote of amusement in her voice.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ve decided I’m going to look on the bright side, for once.”

“Is she really going to be okay? The police made it sound like she might die.” Her voice cracked.

“Oh, honey, she’s not going to die. The doctors made that clear. But it’s a head injury, and you never know how that might affect her. But even the docs are guardedly optimistic.”

She sank into his chest then. “Hold me,” Jane whispered. “Don’t ever let me go. When I’m in your arms, it feels safe.”

“I promise you I won’t let you go, ever again.”

At that moment, Daddy came running down the hall from Momma’s room. “She’s awake, y’all, she’s awake,” he said, his voice wavering with joy and relief.

Elbert came to a stop by the waiting area and looked down the hall toward the elevators. He cocked his head the way he sometimes did. “Are you Jane?” he asked.

“Yes,” she answered. “Are you the guy who sees angels?”

He laughed. “I am. I’m Elbert. And I’m really glad to see you here. C’mon, Ruby wants to talk to you. You were the first person she asked after. Get your butt down this hall, girl.” He turned and practically sailed back down the hall toward the ICU.

Something eased deep inside Clay’s chest. His optimism had not been misplaced. It was going to be okay. Everything was going to be okay.

The Christ Church Ladies could sometimes be annoying, but they were a force to be reckoned with. In the days that followed Woody’s crime spree, the ladies mobilized like an army. They descended upon Ruby and Elbert’s house like reverse locusts bearing casseroles, fried chicken, coleslaw, potato salad, banana pudding, and two chocolate cakes. They took care of Elbert, until Ruby came home a week later.

Neither Elbert nor Stone and his family could eat all that food. So, the overflow ended up filling Clay’s refrigerator at his little bungalow on Baruch Street, which was a good thing because Jane was not a very good cook.

She had moved in with Clay, ceding her apartment above the Cut ’n Curl to Ricki Wilson, who was waitressing down at the Kountry Kitchen on account of the fact that Betty and Ray had absconded to Las Vegas to get married.

The ladies were pretty shocked about that one. Which was good, because it gave them something else to talk about besides the fact that Jane was living with Clay without the benefit of marriage.

Clay was ready to haul her down to the preacher, but Jane wanted to wait at least six months. Clay agreed that was probably a sane and sober thing to do. And during that period, they were going to see what happened with Uncle Pete’s health, and think about whether they wanted to go back to Nashville or whether Clay wanted to explore his options as a songwriter, here.

Clay really didn’t want to go back to Nashville. Which was okay with Jane, because she was realizing that she had a lot to learn about singing.

Like right now, standing up on this stage at Dot’s Spot with the Wild Horses behind her. This terrified her.

It wasn’t the same as singing karaoke. She had to rely on her voice, instead of all the hip shaking she’d done back in Fort Myers. She clutched the mic and looked out through the haze.

Dash Randall sat at the corner of the bar watching ESPN on the muted television, drinking a Diet Coke and battling his demons, as always. Bubba Lockheart sat next to him, already unsteady in his seat.

Dottie, wearing a chartreuse tank top that displayed her cl**vage, was handing out beers and advice to the good ol’ boys and Country Pride Chicken workers from behind the bar.

This was a really tough audience. She understood that now. And she understood that singing for an audience like this was part of paying her dues.

She glanced at Clay, who stood beside her, his fiddle under his chin. He gave her a steady, heartwarming look out of his big gray eyes. She drew strength from that look.

He expected her to stand up on her own feet when she was on stage. But he was there for her and would rescue her if she lost her way or forgot the words. He was an unbelievably patient teacher.

The band struck up the opening bars and she hit her first cue right on time. Then she breathed in for the next phrase and gave it all she had.

“I will always love you,” she sang and put her heart and soul into the words. Which was easy, because no truer words had ever been sung.