Dream a Little Dream (Chicago Stars, #4)(108)

“So are you, sweetheart, or you’d realize she’s a money-grabbing opportunist.”

Her soft stroking continued. “Don’t you find it strange that a money-grabbing opportunist could be raising such a kindhearted little boy?”

“I didn’t say she was a bad mother. The two don’t necessarily go together.”

He glanced into the family room to check on Rosie, but also to keep from meeting Jane’s eyes because she’d managed to hit the nail right on the head about what was bothering him. A child didn’t come any better than that little boy of hers, and Cal wasn’t so blind he couldn’t see how much she cared about him. He remembered the expression on her face when she’d cried out to him to take care of Chip. All the fight had gone right out of her, and she hadn’t seemed to pose much of a danger to anyone.

Jane shook her beautiful brainy head. “This just doesn’t seem right to me. How do you know she’s guilty?”

Cal told her what they’d found in the Escort. As she listened, she got a stricken look around her eyes, and Cal’s heart once again hardened against the Widow Snopes. He kissed Jane’s fingertips. He didn’t like it when anybody other than himself upset his wife.

“But how could I be so wrong about her? Gabe must be devastated. Still, I can’t believe he’d have her thrown into jail.”

Cal and Jane didn’t keep secrets from each other, and he had to tell her what he’d done, but he wanted to wait until the kids were settled for the night. He was fairly certain they were going to have an argument about it, and from experience, he knew his best defense when his wife got upset was to get her naked as quickly as possible, something that would be a lot easier without a baby and five-year-old looking on.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go rescue Chip before Rosie wears him out.”



The jail was small, with no separate quarters for men and women, and the loud complaints of a drunk echoed off the barren walls. Rachel paced the tiny confines of her cell and fought to suppress her panic, but it overwhelmed her. Fear for Edward. For herself. And fear that Gabe had fled again, just as he’d done after Cherry and Jamie died.

Gabe . . . She’d expected him to show up long before now. Surely he’d come back. At the very least, he wouldn’t leave without saying good-bye to his brothers, and, when he discovered what had happened to her, he’d get her out of jail.


Maybe it was the night or the fact that she felt so alone, but she couldn’t quite convince herself it would be that easy. The proof against her was damning, and there was no guarantee he’d believe her. She certainly had no explanation for how those things had ended up in the Escort.

It might be different if he loved her. Then he’d have to know in his heart she was innocent, wouldn’t he? But he didn’t love her, and now he might end up thinking as badly of her as everyone else in Salvation.

She bit her lip and concentrated on Edward, only to feel her heart race. His sense of security was so fragile, and once again, it was being destroyed. She wanted to believe that Cal would keep him safe, but she wasn’t sure of anything anymore. For the first few hours she’d even let herself hope that Jane might intercede, but that hadn’t happened.

She hugged herself against her fear and wondered how her life had come to this. She had no defense against Cal Bonner. He had money, reputation, the town’s respect, and he’d let her rot in here if he thought it would protect his brother.

The outer door clanged, and she jumped as a man entered. She stiffened, expecting Jake Armstrong, who was on duty tonight. But the man wasn’t Jake, and it took her a few moments to recognize Russ Scudder.

He had a cigarette hanging from his fingers as he came to a stop in front of her cell. It was nearly midnight, much too late for jailhouse visitors, and his presence gave her a chill.

“I asked Jake to let me in.” He didn’t meet her eyes. “Him and me . . . We go way back.”

“What do you want?” She reminded herself that the cell was locked, but she still felt uneasy.

“It’s—” He cleared his throat, took a drag from the cigarette. “I know I owe you, but your bail’s high, and I’m a little short right now. That check you gave Lisa has to go into a special fund.”

“I know.” How could she tell him the check wouldn’t be good if she didn’t get on that bus on Monday?

“It was nice of you to give us that money.”

She didn’t know what to say or why he was here, so she kept silent.

“Emily’s—She’s doing better. Her white-cell count is way down. Nobody expected it.” He finally looked at her. “Lisa’s mom thinks you faith-healed her.”

“I didn’t.”

“She’s been getting better every day since you saw her.”

“I’m glad. But it doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

“That’s what I thought at first. But now I’m not so sure.” His forehead puckered and he drew nervously on the cigarette. “It’s happened so fast, and none of the doctors can explain why. She keeps saying you closed your eyes and your hands were hot when you touched her.”

“The room was warm.”

“I guess. Still . . .” He threw down the cigarette and ground it out. “I don’t feel right about some things. My little girl . . .” He rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. “I’m not the best father in the world, but she means a lot to me, and you helped her.” He pulled the cigarette pack from his shirt pocket and looked down at it. “I talked Jake into letting me come in here tonight because I wanted you to know that I’m sorry for some things, and that I owe you. Maybe there’s somebody I can call who’ll help you. All you have to do is let me know.”