Amber Williams - His Rebel Heart

Dustin Harbuck took off his sunglasses as he approached James in dirty work boots. “Jim Bracken,” he greeted James. Dustin wore a battered camouflage baseball cap with a shiny, silver fishing hook clipped onto the front of the bill. Stretching out a large hand, he pumped James’s fist. “Been gone long enough, brother?”

They weren’t brothers. In fact, they’d only been friends for a brief stretch of time. All the Harbuck boys were more than a little rough around the edges and daredevils to boot. A few of them had even served time behind bars, but over the months between the fateful wreck that had changed James’s life and his departure from Fairhope, James had grown to rely on Dusty and his bad influence to cope with life as it was then. Through their shared antics, they had grown as close as two small-town rebels could.

In fact, it was Dusty James had gone to at the end of that fateful summer. Dusty hadn’t hesitated to give James enough money to get him as far away from Fairhope as he could manage on a limited budget. He hadn’t asked questions, either.

James looked at Dusty and saw the first friendly face of all those ghosts he had left behind. Without a word, he embraced him hard. “It’s good to see you, buddy,” he said, and meant it.

Dusty thumped him on the shoulder. He stepped back and surveyed the beard and tattoos that covered James and laughed. “The big, wide world’s left its mark on you.”

“Seems so,” James muttered, turning his tattooed left hand until the art on the underside was revealed. “How’s life been treating you?”

“Decent enough,” Dusty said with a nod. He glanced over James’s shoulder at the locked garage. “Clint told me he’d heard a rumor you were back in town. As shocked as I was to hear that, it wasn’t anything compared to how I felt when I heard you’re trying to throw together a new business.”

James looked at the garage. “I heard Witmore was retiring. I couldn’t let the old place go to waste.”

Narrowing his eyes, Dusty pushed the bill of his cap up with his knuckles, then used them to scratch the spot where the hat had been rubbing just below his red hairline. “And, just like that, after eight years, you come flying back into town to rescue it?”

James lifted his shoulders. “Why not?”

“I ain’t buyin’ it,” Dusty said, pinning an inquisitive gaze on James’s face. “I figure you’ve either gone nuts or we’ve got ourselves a new underground gaming establishment here.”

James chuckled. “Nah. All my gaming’s above ground these days.”

Dusty’s head tipped back suddenly, as if he’d been hit. A brief wince crossed his face. “So you’re telling me not only are you a legitimate business owner now...you’re also on the straight and narrow?”

Smiling, James watched his friend’s face as the crystal-blue eyes roved his for flaws. “Believe it, Harbuck.”

Dusty bolted out a loud laugh. “You are nuts.”

“Maybe,” James acknowledged. He clapped Dusty on the shoulder. “We all gotta grow up at some point.”

“Hmm.” Looking unconvinced, Dusty jerked his chin at the tow truck. “Heard you were looking for a tow driver.”

“Yep,” James said as they strode over to Witmore’s tow truck. “You interested?”

“Clint’s done with the big rigs. Dad gave him the tow I was using around town so I’m in the market. What kind of pay would you be offering on a part-time basis?”

They haggled for a few minutes over commission, hourly rates, benefits and so on. In the end, they shook on an agreement and James handed over the keys.

Watching Dusty flip the key chain from one hand to the other, James leaned back against the tow truck’s grille and frowned. “You’ve been working for your old man since high school?”

“Here and there,” Dusty said with a scowl. “He trusts Clint and Hawk more than me, ever since that little incident involving you, me, a bottle of Johnny Walker and his tractor a few months before that fiasco with the Carltons.”

The Carltons. James’s heart did a little roll and his shoulders straightened. “So you’ve been around since then?”

“For the most part.”

“You ever cross paths with Adrian and her little boy?” James asked.

“Not so much anymore,” Dusty considered. “Not since she and Radley ended things.”

James’s pulse and jaw dropped simultaneously. “Radley Kennard?”

“One and the same.” Dusty nodded. “They divorced about six years back. It ruined him. She told everyone who’d listen that he took a swing at her a couple times. He was a cop. Lost his badge and everything. She slapped him with a restraining order. Poor guy hasn’t been the same since.”

James took a moment to close his mouth, pressing his lips together hard as he digested this new nugget of information. Adrian had been...married? And how in God’s name had she gotten involved with a creep like Radley Kennard? Radley’s younger brother, Scotty, had been one of the guys that ran in Dusty’s hell-raising crew...though even James had been wary around him and his family. Word then was the brothers had run cock-and dog-fighting rings in the woods—though James had never seen as much for himself. Even in his eagerness to fly headlong into the abyss, he’d known to steer clear of the likes of Radley Kennard.

As to the allegations of abuse...James’s blood ran cold at the thought. However life had treated her, she had never been the kind of person to point fingers falsely. She’d worked and fought for what she was and what she wanted. James couldn’t dismiss Adrian’s claims of abuse as Dusty had. And the thought of anyone hurting her like that made James’s fists clench until the knuckles cracked under the strain.

“Why are you interested in Adrian again?” Dusty questioned. “You should know better than that.”

James pursed his lips and took in a long breath—long enough to clear away the fog of rage that the thought of a man like Radley Kennard so much as touching Adrian had stirred. Slowly, his fists unclenched and he relaxed the fingers one by one, lifting one hand and using it to massage the knuckles on the other. “Why do you say that?”

Dusty gave him an incredulous look. “You’re kidding, right? The Carltons got you arrested twice. They practically ran you out of town. If I were you, the last thing I’d be thinking about is getting involved with Adrian. That can only lead to trouble.” He pushed off the tow to walk back to his truck. “Just ask Radley.”

It was more complicated than that. Though, since Dusty hadn’t mentioned the kid, James doubted he knew that Kyle was his son. “How do you feel about starting the week after next? I told a reporter over at the Courier this morning I was planning on opening shop then. She’s doing a feature in next week’s paper.”

“Sounds good to me,” Dusty said and smiled, tipping the bill of his hat to James. “And, hey, for the record, welcome back.”

“Thanks,” James said.

Dusty climbed up into his Dodge. “I’ll see you Monday after next.”

* * *

ADRIANHADNOCHOICE. It had to be done. Just after lunch the following afternoon, Adrian reluctantly asked Penny if she could manage the shop for an hour or two while she went home to work in her kitchen.

Her spring line of homemade candles was selling like hotcakes this year. If she didn’t find time to work on a new batch, she would sell out by the end of the week.

It was the slowest day of the workweek. Flora had only received a trickle of calls that morning. Penny could easily handle a fruit basket, a couple of baby arrangements and a spring wreath. Adrian figured it was her only chance to get away from the shop before the weekend Easter rush.