Trial by Fire. Cara Putman
I set him up during the trial.”
Mom puckered her lips. “So long ago. I doubt he remembers.” She waved her hand in the air as if brushing away a pesky thought. “Don’t you think it’s time you got out? You’re always using work or something else as an excuse to hide in your house on the weekends.”
“Mom, you know that’s not true. I spend a lot of time with the singles group from church.”
“When a trial doesn’t keep you working all hours of the day and night.”
“It’s my job.” Tricia resisted the urge to pout.
“And in ten years you’ll wish you’d rearranged your priorities.”
The hostess showed a young family to a table near theirs. The husband and wife held hands, even as he carried a baby carrier with a baby decked out in pink from head to toe. The image could have come from the dream she’d buried in her heart. A husband who adored her and treated her like a treasure, who could see beyond her past and its pain to the promise of a future. A baby who shared the best of both of them, and served as a reminder that the future could always be a fresh start.
Tricia wiped at her eyes, before the tears could escape. She wanted the dream, but her work—and her past—showed how quickly dreams turned to nightmares. Mom tapped her manicured nails against the table, pulling Tricia back to their conversation. “Which one of your friends is going to be a grandmother now?”
Mom waved a hand in the air as if batting the accusation to the side. “Come on.”
“Mother.”
“Oh, all right. Betty Haines. Her daughter is pregnant with Betty’s third granddaughter. And she’s younger than you. Your biological clock is ticking.”
As if that proved a point. “You’re more concerned that you won’t have grandchildren. Go talk to Caleb and Dani.”
Her mom sighed dramatically. “Test the waters. That’s all I ask. There are men out there. Someone like that firefighter, without the history.”
A strangled sound came from the table behind Tricia’s left shoulder. A startled look covered her mother’s face. Tricia turned to look and immediately wished she hadn’t. Noah Brust’s ruggedly handsome face stared at her, jaw squared, eyes flashing or dancing. She couldn’t tell which. A woman sat next to him, lithe form so close she might as well be sitting on him.
“Mrs. Randol. Tricia.” Noah’s voice sounded deliberately casual as he said her name.
Tricia tried to ignore the flash of discomfort. What had he heard? Her mind reviewed the conversation as heat climbed her neck. This on top of their earlier conversation? She longed to disappear.
“Noah.” The woman next to him whined. She didn’t like his focus off her.
Noah forced a smile at Tricia. “A pleasure, ladies.” He swiveled back toward the model seated next to him.
Tricia eased back around and faced her mother.
Tricia shrugged off the exchange. Why should it bother Tricia? Why did it matter what he thought of her?
The woman next to Noah blathered on about nothing. Graham had set him up with the promise that Lisle would wow him. Not so much. Almost from the moment Noah picked her up, he’d known exactly how the evening would go. Not fast enough.
Graham was right on one point—Lisle was a looker. But every word out of her mouth centered on herself. Who found such self-centered conversation appealing? This would be the last time he let Graham suggest the perfect woman for him.
Lisle pulled on his sleeve, a pout marring her perfect lips. “Where did you go?”
Did she really expect him to tell her his thoughts? On a first date? “What brought you to Lincoln?” He picked at the crumbs on his plate.
She started talking again, seemingly mollified, and Noah glanced at his watch. If things went smoothly, he would drop her off at her apartment in an hour. There must be a lesson buried in this endless, waste-of-time evening. A reason why the only thing to catch and hold his attention was the jolt of electricity he’d felt when he realized Tricia Jamison was in the same room. He’d noticed her the moment she strode into the restaurant, looking as if she was about to head into battle. Something made her feel the need to take charge, yet she’d floundered for words during her conversation with her mother. He’d never seen her like that.
No, the Tricia he knew from a year ago would impress anyone. Poised, with every hair perfectly in place. And a mind that kept her words sharply on target.
“You did it again.” Indignation painted a mask on Lisle’s face.
“Did what?”
“Disappeared.” Lisle crossed her arms and leaned away from him. “If I’m uninteresting, you should take me home. Now.”
Noah felt a twinge of remorse. Maybe Lisle wasn’t his type, but still his mama had raised him to show better manners than ignoring his date. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Noah waved the waitress over and settled the check. He threw the tip on the table, and helped Lisle into her jacket.
As they left his gaze settled on Tricia. There was a tension in the way she sat that he’d never noticed, not even during the trial. Then she’d held herself erect out of engagement. Here she’d steeled herself against some type of assault. As if she feared what might come next.
Could she be afraid of him?
The thought made him stumble and his stomach clenched against the meal he’d just eaten.
Their interactions played through his mind. He’d been hard on her the last few times they’d spoken. Maybe harder than he’d intended or the situation warranted. Had she been hurt by his actions and words? Tricia was so strong, always so much in control. If she were as on top of things as she’d seemed, why couldn’t she have protected him at the trial? That was the root of his anger, but now he started to wonder. Had he expected too much from her? Been unrealistic?
Was he part of the reason sadness shaded her eyes?
He helped Lisle into his truck, and rubbed his neck as he walked around to the driver’s side, trying to focus on her rather than Tricia. She didn’t make it easy, though. If she couldn’t find a mute switch, he’d have a full-blown headache before he dropped her off. Another reason not to date. It never worked for him.
Once he got home, Noah tossed his keys on a table. Maybe the way to get Tricia out of his mind was to figure out what had happened at her mom’s. Then he could move on and forget about her again. He’d done it once. It shouldn’t be harder the second time.
FOUR
Sunday
“You know this wasn’t some dumb kid trying to see what could burn.” Tricia didn’t even try to hide her exasperation as the family sat around Mom’s table for Sunday dinner. Mom and Frank should know better, even if her mom did like to ignore anything that could turn unpleasant. Why didn’t Caleb jump in? He was a police investigator, after all.
“Tricia, let’s not argue.” Mom pushed her hair behind her ears, then picked up her fork.
Frank wiped his mouth. “Your mom worked hard to make this nice meal for you.”
Tricia bit the inside of her mouth to keep from screaming. They shouldn’t treat this like every other after-church dinner. Someone had torched her mom’s shed, and she wouldn’t let it go. “Caleb, you agree with me, don’t you?”
“Yes.” Caleb’s eyebrows knitted together. “Right now, I think it’s one of the guys I investigated rather than some bored kid.” He leaned his elbows on the table and stared at Mom. “There are dangerous men on that list.”
“I really