Everywhere She Goes. Janice Kay Johnson
But everything that happened with Blake had made her realize that she couldn’t shake her past.
“I was a beanpole,” she told him, keeping her voice light. “Taller than all the boys at that age, and ridiculously skinny. I had white-blond hair then, too. You wouldn’t have recognized me, I promise you.”
“I’m not so sure,” he said, sounding thoughtful. “Why did you look so unhappy when I asked you that?”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
He shook his head, impatience on his face. “Never mind. None of my business.”
Silence enveloped their table. Cait looked down at her place setting to avoid his too-keen gaze. Oh, why not? she asked herself. Blake was the only secret she had.
“We weren’t a happy family,” she said, probably startling him.
He’d been scowling toward the cluster of employees who hovered near the check-in at the front entrance, but his head turned sharply when she spoke. Without looking at them, she knew they had to be sagging in relief. She would have been.
When he said nothing, she gave a one-shouldered shrug. “In those days, I mostly tried to disappear into the woodwork. I was safest if no one noticed me, you see.”
“Safest?” He sounded out the word. “Were you abused?”
“Our father was violent.” Now her voice sounded small and tight. “Mostly when he was drunk. Unfortunately, he owned a bar and, by the time he got home, he was almost always drunk.”
“I had no idea.”
“Why would you? You and Colin aren’t exactly friends, and I doubt he talks about it anyway.”
“No.” Noah sounded disturbed. “No, I don’t suppose he would.”
“Men don’t like to, do they?” What made her say that? she wondered, appalled. Was she hinting he tell her his background?
If so, he didn’t take her up on it. Their salads arrived, saving them from awkwardness. Noah asked how much seemed familiar here in town, and she was able to reminisce about the much smaller town from her childhood.
“I was remembering going to the movie theater.” She smiled at memories that were good. “Colin took me sometimes when Mom or Dad wouldn’t. He’s five years older, you know. I hate to imagine the kinds of movies he sat through for my sake! And just think if one of his friends had seen him.”
Noah’s mouth curled up on one side. “Death to a guy’s reputation,” he agreed. “Just think, now you can choose from half a dozen movies or more any Friday night.”
He admitted, when she asked, to attending the community theater’s productions on a regular basis. He had even acted in high school. “I was always the villain, of course.”
“Of course?” she echoed in surprise, then flushed when again his eyebrows rose.
“Not even my mother would call me handsome,” he said drily. “I did a hell of a job with Iago, though, if I do say so myself.”
What could she do but laugh?
The pizza, when it came, proved to be fabulous. Prompted by her questions, Noah was willing to talk about opening his first brew pub. “I still okay every menu item,” he admitted, “but I was never a cook. I have a recurring nightmare about drowning in beer, though. Kegs breaking open, and I’m trying to get them stacked but meantime the beer is pouring down on me, into my nose and mouth.”
She chuckled but had a feeling this was black humor for him. She wanted to ask if he liked his product as well as her father had his, but she refrained.
“Lucky I’m a workaholic,” he said finally.
Cait could have guessed that. “What made you run for mayor?”
He eyed her, and she suspected he was trying to decide how honest to be. “Frustration,” he finally said. “That’s probably what drives most businessmen to get involved. You discover too many factors are out of your control.” He tipped his glass of iced tea to her. “Traffic. Zoning, taxes, the adequacy or otherwise of local law enforcement. In my case, once I started expanding, I had a chance to compare how three different cities operated. I’d lived here too long to want to pull up roots, so I decided to remake Angel Butte instead.”
That really made her laugh. Answering amusement in his eyes told her he at least recognized his hubris.
“Colin said you moved here about ten years ago?”
“Nearly eleven, now.” He hesitated. “I learned that my father was here. Hadn’t seen him since I was a kid, but for some reason I decided to look him up.”
She wondered if he really didn’t know why he’d felt the need to track down his father. Studying that rough-hewn face and the intelligence in his eyes, she thought, no, of course he knew.
“So you found him and stayed.”
Noah shook his head. “I never did find him. He’d disappeared.” His expression closed. “I guess he’d moved on.”
Cait didn’t believe in his outward indifference, but clearly he was done sharing confidences. She could take a hint.
They kept chatting, but more like the employer and employee they were. He asked that she attend the city council meeting the following Tuesday, told her about his second hire of the week, the new city recorder who’d be starting in June.
He paid, and as they walked out, wanted to know if she’d yet found a place to live.
Cait shook her head. “I haven’t even started to look. If you’ll recall, it was only yesterday you offered me the job.”
He gave her an odd glance. “I guess it was.”
It was a little silly that they had to get back in his big SUV for a whole two-block drive, but earlier he hadn’t suggested parking at the city hall/courthouse complex and walking back.
She looked straight ahead as he maneuvered out of the slot. “Did you have any suggestions? I mean, about where to live. I’ll have to rent for now.”
“I suppose you don’t want to stay at your brother’s.”
“No-o.” She drew that out. “He actually has an apartment above his garage. So I might stay there.” She liked the idea of having Colin close if Blake showed up in town. On the other hand... “I’m not sure I want to be accountable to him for my comings and goings.”
“It would be a little like moving back in with Mom and Dad,” Noah mused.
Cait rolled her eyes. “It might be worse.”
“Your brother the cop.” He was highly amused; she could tell. “I guess it might be.”
“Well.” She shook herself. “No hurry to decide.”
“There are some new town houses available for rent in a nice location,” he said after a minute. “I hear they’re decent.”
When she asked why he sounded grudging, he admitted they had been built by Earl Greig, who sat on the city council.
“One of the not-so-happy ones.”
“That would be him.” Noah’s tone was sardonic.
“Not-so-happy means they’re more likely to support you in making changes, doesn’t it?”
“In theory.” He made an indecipherable sound. “You should be welcome, at least.”
This was really out of line, but... “Earl doesn’t like you?”
“Earl can’t bring himself to forget that I used to wear my hair in a ponytail.”
Cait choked.
He flashed her a grin that was so devastating, he might as well have