Sunrise Crossing. Jodi Thomas
returned the kiss. Just a touch, not an advance. Her lip trembled slightly, but she didn’t move away.
He held her, loving the nearness of her, wanting to help, needing to know what was wrong, but afraid to ask more. For now, it was enough that she was safe and unhurt. It didn’t matter what she was running from—only that she was running to him.
He brushed what felt like dried paint from her temple. “You been working in someone else’s workshop, Rabbit?”
“No. I was just playing around with oils today. I tried to mix the colors to match the sky at dawn, but I couldn’t get it right.”
“So, you paint.” He held his breath, fearing she’d think his statement was a question.
“Not much,” she answered. “Not lately.”
“Maybe I’ll give you a chance to do it again.” He smiled at her. “I found an old rocking chair at a yard sale. It needs work, but I could repair the broken pieces of wood and you could paint it red.”
She nodded. “I’d like that. I’ve always wanted to paint a rocker.” She fought down a giggle but he saw her smile.
The sound of a car passing on the road fifty yards away made her jump, but she didn’t leave his arms. When they heard the car pull off the road and head toward them, Yancy held her tighter. He could hear rocks crunching and winter-dead weeds snapping as the tires moved down the rut of a path to the house that no one ever used.
A beam of light flashed through a crack in the door.
They were about to have a visitor and there was no way out except through the barn doors. Yancy felt her panic as he moved his hand across her back trying to comfort her.
He knew she wanted to run, but from the sounds outside, the car couldn’t be more than five feet from the barn door.
Without hesitation, Yancy picked her up. With one step onto his toolbox and another on the table, he was high enough to lift her into the loft. “Get back behind the boards and don’t move.”
“But—”
“Go, Rabbit. I’ll stand guard. No matter what happens, don’t come out.”
She scrambled up. A car door opened somewhere outside. Yancy jumped from the table and ran the few feet to the loft ladder. He swung it down and shoved it beneath the table, where it blended with a pile of loose boards and scraps of materials he’d planned to trash.
As he picked up his hammer, he moved so that he faced the door, the table now between him and whoever might be showing up at this hour.
A car door slammed and footsteps sounded, coming closer, making no effort to be silent.
Yancy raised his hammer. If trouble stepped in through the barn doors, he could throw the tool and have another pulled from the wall behind him before the stranger could react. If someone were coming for the woman in the loft, they’d have to get past him first.
The door creaked and cold air rushed in as if the barn were inhaling.
“Yancy?” a low voice called. “You in here?”
Yancy was so relieved that he almost dropped the hammer. “Fifth,” he answered as Deputy Weathers stepped through the opening. “You scared the hell out of me, man.”
The tall officer smiled. “Sorry, I tend to have that effect on people. It’s hard for me to sneak into a place. I’ve tried lathering my whole body with lard because someone said it was shortening, but it didn’t work.”
“Very funny.” Yancy tried to calm his nerves, but they were still jumping under his skin. “Sounds like a joke one of the old retired teachers would tell.”
“It is. Mrs. Ollie told it to me the other day.”
Yancy forced himself not to look up at the loft. Rabbit wouldn’t come down, and he had to act like it was just an ordinary night. “You must be helping Mrs. Ollie practice so she can get her driver’s permit back. She always tells jokes when she’s nervous.”
“Yeah, she’s doing better with her driving than she is with her stand-up comedy career. Drives fine, just can’t remember if she should be in the right or left lane. Which complicates things on all these two-lane roads.”
Yancy nodded. He’d ridden with her once. His life had flashed before him so many times he thought it was in permanent reruns.
Normally, he would have visited, but tonight all he could think about was saying goodbye to his friend. “What brings you out this late, Deputy? Coming in from a date or on official business?”
“No date. I was just driving home and saw the light. Don’t usually see you working this late. Thought something might be wrong.”
“No,” Yancy said, “I’m just finishing up a project. I get out here working and forget about time.”
The deputy pulled off his hat, leaned against one of the other tables and crossed his arms. He appeared to be planted there for a while. “I almost had a date a few days ago. One of the O’Grady clan. Tall and lean with the prettiest red hair you’ve ever seen. We had a lunch date.”
“Really?” Yancy tried to act interested.
Weathers shook his head. “I think I just wanted it to be a date. She was something, but I didn’t get any signals that she was interested in me.”
“Why not ask her out again? Maybe you’ll grow on her.” Yancy added, “She’s still staying out at the Kirkland place.”
Weathers laughed. “This town is way too small. How’d you know?”
“Cap Fuller’s grandson waited on you at the window of the Dairy Queen. He told Cap you had a tall redhead with you. Anyone in this county with reddish hair is probably an O’Grady and the only one visiting is Quinn Kirkland’s niece. Kirkland told his grandmother when he visited her that she was staying with them.”
Fifth frowned and Yancy laughed.
“That does it,” Fifth swore. “I’m asking her out and taking her across the county line to eat. Nothing ever happens in this town that everyone doesn’t know about.” Weathers put his hat back on and headed toward the door. “By the way, this is going to be one fine house when you get it done.”
“It keeps me busy.” The last thing Yancy wanted to do was talk about his work, but he couldn’t exactly tell the deputy to leave. Fifth was not only a lawman, but he’d become Yancy’s friend. “This is late for you to be out, Fifth. Don’t you have to be in the office by eight?”
“Sure, but I’m working on a missing-person case. You haven’t seen a woman around? Small build. Long black hair. Midtwenties.”
“Nope,” Yancy lied. “What’d she do?”
“Nothing. She’s just missing. Has been since the end of January. Left her car at the bus station in Liberal. Woman matching her description bought a ticket to Santa Fe, but never made it there. Bus driver thinks she must have left the bus somewhere in Texas. He said he had a crowd riding that night and barely remembered her. Once she made the missing persons’ list, we’ve had reports of her buying a SUV in Waco and getting drunk in a bar near Amarillo. That’s what happens when someone puts out a quarter-million-dollar reward. She gets more sightings than aliens do.”
“If it’s illegal to get off the bus, I’m a wanted man, too.” Yancy kept his voice low and even, but it bothered him that someone was offering money for her. It made her sound like an outlaw.
What if the missing woman was his Rabbit? There were lots of small women in their twenties who had dark hair. Hundreds. Thousands in Texas.
The deputy shook his head. “She’s not wanted, just missing. I don’t know much about her except there are a hell of a lot of people looking for her. They’re calling all the places where the bus stops, asking for information.