Dream a Little Dream (Chicago Stars, #4)(179)

Russ shoved his fists in his pockets and thought about his wife. He’d gone to see her yesterday, but she’d refused to talk to him. Jesus, he missed her. If only he had a job, he might be able to get her back, but Rachel Snopes had taken the only job anyone in town had offered him.

He was glad he’d slashed her tires last night. He hadn’t planned on doing it, but then he’d seen her car, and there was nobody around, and it had felt good. It had felt so good he’d gone up to the Glide cottage a few hours later with a can of spray paint and painted Sinner on the wall just like some Bible banger. Maybe now she’d get the idea that she wasn’t wanted around here.

He thought old G. Dwayne might have liked what he’d done last night. Despite his Rolex watches and fancy suits, Dwayne had been a good ol’ boy. He’d never meant anybody harm, and Russ knew for a fact that he prayed a lot and loved God and everything. It was Rachel had made him go bad. Dwayne wanted to keep her happy, so he’d dipped too deep into the Temple’s bank account to buy her the things she nagged him for.

It was Rachel’s greedy ways that had brought down the Temple and Dwayne Snopes. Her greed had brought down Russ, too, because if it weren’t for her, he’d still be working security, still working the job that had made him feel like a man.

And now she was settling back into Salvation, just as if she hadn’t done anything wrong. Now she was using Gabe the same way she’d used G. Dwayne, but the crazy son of a bitch was too stupid to see what she was doing.

Russ had tried to talk to his ex-wife about Rachel and how she was to blame for everything bad that had happened to him, but she didn’t understand. She didn’t understand how none of this was Russ’s fault.

He needed a drink, and he turned toward Donny’s place. A couple of drinks would settle him down. They’d make him forget that he had no job and that his wife had kicked him out and that he couldn’t take care of his kid right.



“Is he going to be here?” Edward asked on Saturday morning as Rachel parked her precious Escort behind the snack shop.

No need to ask who he was. “Mr. Bonner’s not as bad as we thought. He’s given me a job and let us live in the cottage. He’s also made sure I have a car to drive.”


“Pastor Ethan got us the cottage and the car.”

“Only because Mr. Bonner asked him to.”

But Gabe remained Edward’s enemy, and he refused to be swayed. On the other hand, he’d developed an unbending loyalty to Ethan, who apparently sought him out regularly at the day-care center. Rachel reminded herself she’d have to thank him for that, even if she choked on it.

Day care had been good for her son. He still hadn’t made any close friends, but he was a little more talkative, a bit more demanding—although with Edward, that was relative. Twice now, when she’d told him it was bedtime, he’d said, “Do I have to?” For him, that was a major rebellion.

“Wait till you see the playground.” She handed him a shopping bag filled with some toys to keep him occupied for the day, then picked up a sack that held their lunches and a few snacks. As they walked toward the playground, Horse dangling from his hand, she saw how much stronger he looked. His legs and arms were tanned, and there was a liveliness to his movements that she hadn’t seen since his illness.

“The playground’s all fixed up,” she said. “And look. We added some picnic tables, so you’ll have a place to sit and draw.”

She’d bought him a new coloring set that included a sixty-four count box of crayons instead of a skimpy twenty-four, then she’d purchased new sneakers for him, as well as pajamas printed with race cars. When she’d let him pick out an inexpensive T-shirt, he’d bypassed the childish cartoon designs and chosen one that said Macho Man.

She glanced down at her own clothes. She cleaned the dirt and paint from her black oxfords every day, and they were holding up well. Thanks to Annie Glide’s wardrobe of old housedresses, she hadn’t needed to waste a penny on herself.

Just then, Gabe’s pickup swooped into the lot accompanied by a wake of dust. Edward slipped behind the turtle where, she suspected, he intended to make himself as invisible as possible. She headed for the truck and watched Gabe step out, all lazy grace and boneless elegance.

Yesterday he’d given her the key to Cal’s house so she could search for the Bible while he went out to dinner with Ethan. It hadn’t been there, but she appreciated the fact that he’d trusted her enough to let her look.

His eyes caressed her as he came nearer, and she grew dizzy with the memory of how he’d felt inside her two days earlier.

“Good morning.” His voice was deep and husky with sexual promise.

The breeze lifted the hem of her skirt so it brushed against his jeans. “Good morning yourself.” Her tongue felt clumsy in her mouth.

He slipped his hand under her hair and curled it around the back of her neck. “No electrician today.”

But they weren’t alone, she was having her period, he didn’t know about Edward, and he still controlled her paycheck. With a reluctant sigh, she drew away. “I can’t afford you.”

“Are we back to that again?”

“I’m afraid so.”

He didn’t say anything. He simply frowned at her paint-spattered orange dress and oxfords, which seemed to annoy him more each day. “You left those jeans of Jane’s on the bed when you were looking for the Bible. Why didn’t you keep them?”