Read Online Lancelot of the Pines (Louisiana Knights Book 1) by Jennifer Blake - Free Book Online
Authors: Jennifer Blake
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something.”
Lance opened a can of tuna and dumped it on one of the cheap foam plates from Trey’s cabinets. He set it outside on the doormat for the cat that had followed them to the RV then stepped back inside. He might have brought the animal in with him, but the chance of it having fleas was better than even.
Mandy, sitting on the bed made from the collapsible table, looked up as he closed the outer door behind him. “He’s eating?”
“She,” he answered. “It’s plainly a female, now that I see her in better light. And she’s chowing down as if she’s eating for four or five, which I suspect she probably is.”
“You mean she’s—poor thing. Maybe we should give her some milk.”
“Tomorrow, if she’s still around. She’s okay for now. Of course, a dozen or more of her close relatives may show up with her for breakfast in the morning.”
“I suppose we could go get cat food for them,” she suggested with a troubled look in the depths of her eyes.
Concern from her wasn’t what he expected, though he was beginning to think he might be in for more surprises before this business was over. “We could, but there’s a limit to how long we can stay here. It wouldn’t be right to make them dependent on regular feeding and then leave.”
“I suppose your cousin knows about them.” She looked down at her hands, twining her fingers in her lap.
“Now that you mention it, I think I’ve heard Trey complain about his cat food bill.” Something else was bothering her, he thought. He considered and rejected several things before what it might be came to him. “About the bed you’re sitting on, I don’t want you to think I made it up because I expected you to be back here.”
“Didn’t you?”
“It was a just-in-case deal. Well, and for something to do until I thought you were settled.”
“In case I chickened out, you mean. Which I did.”
His smile took on a wry twist. “You lasted quite a while. I finished here before going back to the old house, and was almost asleep when your visitor showed up.”
“You don’t have to be kind,” she said, glancing at him and then away again.
“I’m not.” He straightened. “But we should get some sleep. Will you be okay in here now?”
She shrugged but didn’t look too happy. She also didn’t meet his eyes.
“Amanda?”
“Mandy,” she said in low-voiced correction.
“What?”
She cleared her throat. “My name is Mandy. Only Bruce called me Amanda, and I—I’d as soon not be that person anymore.”
“You used the past tense for him. Would that be because you know he won’t be around to call you anything?”
She lifted her chin. “It means I won’t be living with him.”
The closed-in expression on her face said she didn’t want to talk about it. It could be he was getting lax, Lance thought. He knew he should bear down on what she’d said until she explained it, but couldn’t find the heart.
No matter. The way things were going, they’d have time and more to talk. Besides, it seemed unlikely a woman who worried over cats and elderly women was a murderess. And if he was wrong, he didn’t much want to know it right now.
Jerking a thumb toward the back of the small RV, he said, “You can have the big bed.”
“This is fine,” she answered, patting the sheet-covered cushions where she sat.
“The other is softer.”
“It’s also longer. This one is too short for you unless you curl up like a pretzel. And if you think I’ll be too near the doors, rest easy. I’m not going anywhere tonight. I’ll sleep better here where I can see out. That’s if I sleep at all.”
Her features were clear, her blue eyes steady. Lance didn’t really trust her, yet could see no reason to disbelieve her. Beyond that, there weren’t many places she could go that weren’t more dangerous than where she was now.
“Fine,” he said, swinging away from her, heading toward the dim rear bedroom. “Night, Mandy.”
It was a moment
Lance opened a can of tuna and dumped it on one of the cheap foam plates from Trey’s cabinets. He set it outside on the doormat for the cat that had followed them to the RV then stepped back inside. He might have brought the animal in with him, but the chance of it having fleas was better than even.
Mandy, sitting on the bed made from the collapsible table, looked up as he closed the outer door behind him. “He’s eating?”
“She,” he answered. “It’s plainly a female, now that I see her in better light. And she’s chowing down as if she’s eating for four or five, which I suspect she probably is.”
“You mean she’s—poor thing. Maybe we should give her some milk.”
“Tomorrow, if she’s still around. She’s okay for now. Of course, a dozen or more of her close relatives may show up with her for breakfast in the morning.”
“I suppose we could go get cat food for them,” she suggested with a troubled look in the depths of her eyes.
Concern from her wasn’t what he expected, though he was beginning to think he might be in for more surprises before this business was over. “We could, but there’s a limit to how long we can stay here. It wouldn’t be right to make them dependent on regular feeding and then leave.”
“I suppose your cousin knows about them.” She looked down at her hands, twining her fingers in her lap.
“Now that you mention it, I think I’ve heard Trey complain about his cat food bill.” Something else was bothering her, he thought. He considered and rejected several things before what it might be came to him. “About the bed you’re sitting on, I don’t want you to think I made it up because I expected you to be back here.”
“Didn’t you?”
“It was a just-in-case deal. Well, and for something to do until I thought you were settled.”
“In case I chickened out, you mean. Which I did.”
His smile took on a wry twist. “You lasted quite a while. I finished here before going back to the old house, and was almost asleep when your visitor showed up.”
“You don’t have to be kind,” she said, glancing at him and then away again.
“I’m not.” He straightened. “But we should get some sleep. Will you be okay in here now?”
She shrugged but didn’t look too happy. She also didn’t meet his eyes.
“Amanda?”
“Mandy,” she said in low-voiced correction.
“What?”
She cleared her throat. “My name is Mandy. Only Bruce called me Amanda, and I—I’d as soon not be that person anymore.”
“You used the past tense for him. Would that be because you know he won’t be around to call you anything?”
She lifted her chin. “It means I won’t be living with him.”
The closed-in expression on her face said she didn’t want to talk about it. It could be he was getting lax, Lance thought. He knew he should bear down on what she’d said until she explained it, but couldn’t find the heart.
No matter. The way things were going, they’d have time and more to talk. Besides, it seemed unlikely a woman who worried over cats and elderly women was a murderess. And if he was wrong, he didn’t much want to know it right now.
Jerking a thumb toward the back of the small RV, he said, “You can have the big bed.”
“This is fine,” she answered, patting the sheet-covered cushions where she sat.
“The other is softer.”
“It’s also longer. This one is too short for you unless you curl up like a pretzel. And if you think I’ll be too near the doors, rest easy. I’m not going anywhere tonight. I’ll sleep better here where I can see out. That’s if I sleep at all.”
Her features were clear, her blue eyes steady. Lance didn’t really trust her, yet could see no reason to disbelieve her. Beyond that, there weren’t many places she could go that weren’t more dangerous than where she was now.
“Fine,” he said, swinging away from her, heading toward the dim rear bedroom. “Night, Mandy.”
It was a moment
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