Twilight Man. Karen Leabo
“Because I knew you weren’t mean. I remembered how you talked to me after the accident, how you coaxed me to unbuckle my seat belt. And I remembered how kind you were when you wiped the blood off my face and bandaged my leg.”
Now they were in uncomfortable territory. Jones shrugged. “Yeah, well, you needed help and I happened to be there.”
“But you’re not mean,” she insisted. “Why do you let everyone believe you are?”
“So they’ll keep their distance. Of course, that doesn’t deter some people.” He gave her a pointed look.
“Why do you want them to keep their distance?”
“Faith, will you stop with the questions?” He did his best to bark at her, but it came out sounding like a plea instead. “I can’t answer them.”
“Is it something illegal?”
“No, dammit.” Not unless disappearing was a felony. It was if you did it to get out of paying your debts, but he didn’t fall into that category. Practicing law had netted him more money than he knew what to do with.
“Then why won’t you tell me?”
“Why do you need to know?” he shot back.
“Because...” She took a deep breath, then placed her hand over his where it rested on his knee. “Because I like you, and I want to know you better.”
Her message was unmistakable. For him to respond to it was unthinkable. He jumped up from the bench as if he’d been scalded and took two long strides away from her. Even if he could allow someone to get close to him—which he couldn’t—there was Mary-Lynn.
He read the hurt plainly in Faith’s eyes and felt like an absolute heel. This was all his fault. Maybe she’d been the one to seek him out, but he had allowed her to pull him from his shell. He had let her get too close.
“It’s nothing personal, Faith,” he said.
“Well, it feels personal.”
“It’s not—please believe me. You’re an attractive, interesting woman, and under normal circumstances, I would jump at the chance to know you better.” A lot better. “But I can’t. I’m...committed elsewhere.”
“Girlfriend?”
“Fiancée.”
“Who is she?”
“Her name’s Mary-Lynn.”
“What’s her last name?” Faith asked with a skeptical tilt to her head.
“Hoffman,” he blurted out because he wanted to convince her he wasn’t making this up. Immediately he regretted his impulsive admission. There was little chance Faith could or would locate Mary-Lynn, even given her last name. After all, she didn’t know where he was from. But it worried him anyway.
“When are you getting married?”
“We’re not, I guess.”
“Then she’s not your fiancée.”
“She still has my ring.” Maybe. He’d left her a note, telling her to sell the ring and find someone new, but he doubted she’d done it. Mary-Lynn was a sentimental soul.
“Then why—”
“Faith!” He was getting truly angry now. Her curiosity was understandable, but she was invading his privacy. “No more questions.” In a quieter tone he added, “Listen, the rain is letting up. I’m going to turn on the car radio and see if I can get an updated weather report.”
She watched him walk away, feeling utterly wretched. She’d made a fool of herself. Even if Jones were attracted to her, he wouldn’t give in to temptation. His loyalty to the mysterious Mary-Lynn Hoffman made him that much more appealing.
She stepped into the ladies’ room to have a look at her hair. What she saw made her groan. Jones wasn’t attracted to her. How could he be? She looked about as appealing as a wet log.
She pulled a comb out of her purse and tried to make sense of her damp, curly mane.
What had happened to Mary-Lynn? Faith found herself wondering. Had the woman jilted him? Had she died?
Damn, she had to stop this endless speculation about Jones Larabee’s life. He didn’t welcome her curiosity, and he had a right to his privacy—much as that irked her.
“Faith?” His voice through the bathroom door sounded a bit anxious.
“Be out in a minute,” she called back. She gave herself one final appraisal in the streaked mirror, making sure she carried a confident expression. It wouldn’t do to let him know how thoroughly humiliated she was. She would give the impression that his rejection had made barely a ripple in her psyche.
When she emerged, he was pacing the concrete floor, his thumbs hooked in his jeans pockets. “There you are.”
Had he suspected her of being so distraught that she’d thrown herself in the lake and drowned? “Here I am, all right.”
“The weather bureau has given the all-clear. Seems the worst of the storm has moved on into Louisiana and Arkansas.”
“That’s good to know. Let’s get out of here.” She was anxious to send Jones home, dark or no dark. Maybe then things could get back to normal.
But normal simply wasn’t to be. As she turned her station wagon onto the narrow road that led to her campsite, Faith spotted flashing red and blue lights ahead of her and a general state of chaos that hadn’t existed when they’d left.
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