He made it sound like the love story of the century, except that everyone knew what had happened after that. Anyone hoping for Cinderella vibes and happy endings was going to be seriously disappointed by the story of Cliff and Joanna, which came closer to Shakespearean tragedy.

“I’m here,” Joanna said, “because I wanted to talk to you.”

About what? Suspicious and scared, Ashley studied her face, searching for clues, but Joanna revealed nothing. Married to Cliff, she’d probably had plenty of practice at hiding her emotions.

“I was in the car with your husband.” She started to cough and clutched her stomach because coughing was agony.

“Ex-husband.” Joanna stood up and poured her a glass of water. “How bad are your injuries? Have they told you when you’ll be able to leave the hospital?”

Ashley took the water. “Thank you. I can’t leave for a while.” And she wasn’t sure what she felt about that. She was relieved she wasn’t dead, obviously, but she was scared of the medical bills. But at least this hospital was a comparatively safe place. Outside the hospital walls that wouldn’t be the case. Presumably Joanna knew that, and her next question confirmed it.

“What will you do when you leave here? Do you have plans?”

No, she didn’t have plans. Her plans were lying in the bottom of a ravine.

“I’ll figure something out.”

“Do you have family? Is your mother coming?”

“My mother is dead.” Ashley felt her insides lurch. “It’s just me.”

Joanna looked at her for a long moment. “And it’s true that you’re pregnant?”

“Yes.” She slammed into a brick wall of reality. Right now she didn’t feel capable of looking after herself, let alone another person.

“Do you have someone to go to?” Joanna persisted. “Somewhere you can lie low for a while? Where is your home?”

“Why do you care?” Presumably she was afraid that Ashley was going to talk to one of the journalists who were hovering around the hospital. She was protecting her interests, but Ashley had no intention of talking to anyone. “I’m not going to say anything, if that’s what you’re worried about. I just want to be left alone.”

“Good luck with that.” Joanna gave a faint smile, but it wasn’t mocking. There was kindness there and also sympathy.

Ashley handed the glass back and slumped back against the pillows. “They’re not going to leave me alone, are they? I guess if you have any tips, then I’m ready to hear them.” Desperation trumped pride. Few people had as much experience dealing with intrusive questions as Joanna.

“I don’t have any tips, but I do have a proposition.”

Ashley’s stomach lurched.

What could Joanna Whitman possibly have to say to her?

Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

7

Melanie