Rancher's Hostage Rescue. Beth Cornelison
The bank robber had everything she’d just taken from Helen’s lockbox. The jewelry pieces that had been their mother’s, Helen’s passport and birth certificate and God knows what else that had been in those little boxes and envelopes she’d scooped into her purse to examine later. Irreplaceable things that Helen had treasured.
Anger, grief and residual fear flashed through her in an overwhelming flood. Her knees buckled as she walked into the lobby of the bank, and she sank—crumpled, really—into a chair near the front door. Tears filled her eyes, and she pressed a hand over her mouth to muffle the scream she wanted to let loose. Instead, she cried, shoulders shaking and her chest aching as she struggled for a breath between sobs. Other than the day she’d learned about Helen’s murder, she’d been strong, she’d held it together. But the loss of the things from Helen’s lockbox felt like losing her sister all over again.
“Lilly?”
She jerked her head up. Dave stood beside her, his eyes narrowed with concern. She dashed her hand under her eyes, swiping at the tears. “What do you want?”
He lowered himself awkwardly onto an adjacent chair, favoring his right leg, which he extended stiffly in front of him. He leaned toward her and pitched his voice low. “Are you all right?”
She dismissed him with a snort. “Peachy.”
“Can I do anything?” he asked, his voice a soft rumble. Compassionate. Soothing. The way it had been when he’d spoken with the older teller. To continue to rebuff him with sarcasm in light of his kindness would only make her look bitchy, so she modulated her expression and simply shook her head.
“Okay,” he said after a brief pause in which he studied her with an unnerving scrutiny. He pushed back to his feet with a soft grunt of pain as he put weight on his bad leg. “Goodbye, Lilly. I’ll be by the house later this week to get my things.”
The house...
“Dave, wait.” She dabbed at her runny nose and drew a cleansing breath. “Could you...drive me home? The robber took my purse...with my keys. You could get your things now, and I could get the spare keys for my car and come back up to retrieve it.” She hated asking anything of the man who’d failed her sister in so many ways, but her proposal was the most logical solution to two issues.
Dave scratched the back of his head as he considered her request for all of three seconds. “Um, sure.” He spread his hands. “Of course. You ready?”
She stood and smoothed the seat of her slacks. “Yes. More than ready.”
Lilly followed him out to his truck, and he held the passenger door for her while she climbed in the cab.
“Sorry about the mess,” he said after he slid behind the steering wheel. He tossed a few fast food wrappers and empty drink cans behind the seat. “I’d have cleaned up if I’d known you would be—”
“Don’t bother,” she said giving him a flat look. “My opinion of you and how you treated my sister is not going to change in the next twenty minutes while you get your things from her house.”
Dave firmed his mouth, and his eyebrows dipped in a low line over his dark brown eyes. Bedroom eyes, she could remember Helen calling them when she’d first started dating Dave and she’d gushed to Lilly about her handsome new boyfriend.
Okay, he was handsome. She’d give him that. But the mess in his car underlined the impression she’d formed in subsequent conversations about Dave. A man who was just too casual in his relationships, in his housekeeping, in most aspects of his life. No plan for the future. No commitments and few responsibilities.
She spotted a distinctive cone-shaped plastic sleeve on the floor and bent to pick it up. The grocery store sticker on the plastic wrap verified what the contents had been. Fresh floral arrangement, $8.99.
“Wooing a new girlfriend?” she asked, knowing her tone was brittle and not caring.
He started the engine and sent her a cool look. “No. Visiting the grave of the woman I miss every day.”
His reply shocked her. Shamed her. She hadn’t been to Helen’s grave since the funeral. She planned to go before she left town, but...it was too painful, and she hadn’t yet mustered the nerve to go.
“Oh.” She let the wrapper fall back to the floor. “Sorry. I...shouldn’t have assumed—”
“Like I said earlier,” he said, facing the road as he drove, “I was going to give her an engagement ring on New Year’s Eve.”
Lilly’s heart contracted. “She’d have said yes. She loved you, despite—”
He cut a sharp gaze toward her, his dark eyes full of pain, but said nothing.
Lilly cursed under her breath. “Dave, I guess it’s obvious I’m no fan of yours. You strung her along for five years, forgot important anniversaries—”
“I know.”
“—dismissed her unhappiness when she tried to talk about it, flirted with other women in front of her—”
“Now that’s not true!”
“—stood her up on her birthday—” Lilly’s volume grew as her anger heated.
“That wasn’t my fault!” he argued, matching her volume. “There was an emergency at the Double M, and I couldn’t get away. I explained that to her, and we went out the next night!”
“And you were always making excuses for your shortcomings. Never taking responsibility for your screwups with her!”
He smacked the steering wheel and shouted, “I know I did! I hate myself for it!”
She fell silent, studying him. He flexed his hand then squeezed the steering wheel. His jaw clenched, and his nostrils flared as he breathed deeply.
After a moment, he cut a dark glare toward her, his tone calmer, quieter. “I regret it every hour of every day. She deserved better. I let her down. I know that.”
Lilly turned toward the side window, blinking away the tears that stung her eyes. Why had she lit into him like that? Berating him wouldn’t change the past, wouldn’t bring Helen back. Helen had loved him, despite his shortcomings, and she’d be appalled to know Lilly was calling him to task for the things she’d confided in sisterly phone conversations. Venting, Helen had called it. Maybe all women needed to let off steam now and then about their mates’ foibles. If she’d vented to Helen about Alan’s faults and transgressions, would she have been in a better position to have saved her own marriage? She’d never know. Alan was gone, remarried, and she was...
Lilly closed her eyes. Never mind what she was. Where she was. What she’d do next. She just had to keep putting one foot in front of the other. One day at a time. She might be alone in the world, but she would not wallow in self-pity. She would be strong, like her mother had been after Dad left.
But in the short term, she simply wanted to complete her business with Dave Giblan and see him on his way so that she never again had to see the man who was a painful reminder of Helen’s too-short life. After that, she’d pour a large glass of wine and put this horrible day behind her.
* * *
After their brief shouting match, Lilly grew sullenly silent. Dave wasn’t proud of himself for responding to her anger and accusations with the heat he’d used. After all, everything she’d said was true, was something he’d castigated himself for in the last few months. Most everything. But the fact that he had a legitimate excuse for missing her birthday dinner was cold comfort in hindsight. Had he not been so prone to disappointing her, the birthday dinner would have been more easily forgiven. Instead it had been just another letdown on a long list that she’d reported to her sister.
“How long will you be off work?” she asked, breaking into his thoughts.
He rubbed his leg almost without thought and sighed. How long, indeed? “I should be released by the