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out in
little pieces if he ever left her, especially for someone like Arlene
Vickery Cash Motes Dothan, a three-time divorcee who came from the other
side of the river.
        For now, he was trapped in a loveless,
childless marriage. He would have to wait a little longer, until he
had enough money stashed away so he, Arlene and her two kids could leave
Noble's Crossing and never look back. By the time Edith found out about
what he had done, it would be too late for her to do anything about it.
        Driving along Magnolia Avenue in
broad daylight for the whole world to see, Johnny Mack wondered if he was
a fool. His last memory of Rich Man's Land, as the locals often called
this area, had stuck in his mind for fifteen years. As much as he had tried
to forget everything and everyone associated with Noble's Crossing,
she had been the one and only thing he'd never been able to forget. She
had saved his life that night-the night some good ole boys, headed by
Buddy Lawler, had beaten him senseless behind the Nobles' house, tossed
him into the Chickasaw River and left him for dead.
        He wondered if she still lived on
Magnolia Avenue. Had she gone home to her mother after the divorce? Of
all the women he had known in Noble's Crossing, of all the women who had
played a part in his life back then, it never ceased to amaze him that Lane
Noble was the one who haunted him to this day.
        Not Sharon Hickman, despite the
friendship and hot sex they had shared. Not grande dame Edith Graham,
who had bedded him as an act of revenge against her husband. And not even
Mary Martha Graham, with all her pale strawberry blond beauty and her
heartbreaking sadness.
        Why Lane Noble? Lane Noble Graham.
The mother of a boy who might be his son.
        She had been a smart, quiet girl
with the kind of looks a guy wouldn't notice. But he had noticed her.
He'd noticed how different she was from her friends, those snobby little
blue-blooded debutantes. When around their social set, the others never
had acknowledged their acquaintance with him, although sooner or
later he had fucked them all. But Lane, whom he'd never touched, always
had a shy smile and a1 warm hello for him.
        The night Kent Graham had stood on
the sidelines, watching while Buddy Lawler and his cohorts beat] the
hell out of him, Johnny Mack had known in his! gut that they meant to kill
him. And he would have died that rainy September night if shy, sweet little
Lane Noble hadn't found him on the riverbank, after he had dragged himself
out of the cold, deadly water. Johnny Mack slowed briefly in front of the
Noble home, a house built before the Civil War and occupied by the
Noble family for six generations. He had spent three days and nights in
that house, fifteen years ago. Lane had hidden him away, nursed him back
from near death and given him the only good memories he had of Noble's
Crossing.
        One by one, the stately mansions
along Magnolia Avenue came into view as Johnny Mack eased the rental car
down the street. Even if other things in this one-horse town had changed,
been improved and modernized, nothing-absolutely nothing-had changed
on Magnolia Avenue. Same fine homes, neatly manicured lawns and an invisible
sign telling the rest of the world, "Private Property, Keep
Out."
        That was where he had made his mistake
all those years ago. He had trespassed. And no one, especially Kent Graham,
had ever forgiven him. Hell, nobody had cared what he did or who he screwed
as long as he stayed on the other side of the river, with the likes of Sharon
Hickman. But once he had set his sights a little higher, all hell had broken
loose, and his flirtations with the Noble's Crossing debutantes had nearly
cost him his life.
        Fifteen years ago he had sworn he
would never come back to this goddamn town. But that had been before he
found out he might have left behind a child.

    Chapter 4
     
        "They say his head was smashed
in so bad his own