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Authors: Susan Vaughan
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shoulder. The Massachusetts General
Hospital Burn Center kept me for months. I was wild with pain and grief for
Gail. Medication put me out of it through the surgeries. I don’t remember much
of that time.”
Reconstruction must’ve taken its toll. Maybe too much.
“At the time, I heard burning debris fell on you from the loft.”
She nodded, lifting a hand to touch her facial scar. “Fixing
this scar would’ve skewed in my hairline, so I let it go. I’m lucky to have my
hair. Apparently I covered my head with a wet towel before I charged into the
barn.”
“You pulled Gail out.”
“Too late. Getting knocked out by a beam, she inhaled
too much smoke.” The pain in her voice reached into his chest and gave a good
twist.
When they stopped at the traffic light marking the
head of the peninsula, she said, “Go left, then Route 23 to Oak Mills.”
When they were headed that direction, he said, “I’m
surprised Tyson agreed to see you.”
Her eyes brightened. “He didn’t, not at first. When I
threatened to park in his driveway until he talked to me, he gave in. He said
he kept his personal notes. Exactly my hope.”
The route took them away from the coastal fog and into
clear skies. The narrow two-lane road climbed tree-covered hills and dipped
into a valley where a lake gleamed like stretched blue plastic.
“We’re early. Tyson’s place is closer than I thought.”
He pulled over at a public boat-launch ramp and stopped the vehicle. Three
trucks with boat trailers sat in parking places, the owners out buzzing around
on the lake.
He walked around to open her door, but Ms.
Independence had managed in spite of her bandaged hands. The clean air smelled
of wet sand and algae.
He stood by her side at the lake’s edge. Silvery
minnows darted in the clear shallows. Squeals of delight rippled from the
public beach farther down the shore. “So what’s this about you starting to
remember?”
On a sigh of resignation, she turned to look at him. “I
let the police chief think I remembered something. If what we learn from Tyson
jogs my memory, maybe I will have something new. Then they’ll have to
reopen the case. Maybe I saw something. Or someone.”
He touched her nose, pinked by the sun. “You’re poking
your pretty nose in where it could get bitten off.”
A blush crept up her golden-tanned cheeks. Didn’t she
know she was hot? Gail flaunted her looks and used them. But not Lani. Was it
the fire that had taken away her self confidence?
She huffed and twitched her shoulders. “Dammit, Jake,
finding some shred of evidence to get the case re-opened is worth the risk.”
He wanted to look away from the pain and longing in
her eyes but forced himself to hold her gaze. Odd, but when he looked at her, he
no longer saw Gail’s face. Too much shared pain between them for anything more
than friendship, no matter how drawn to her he was.
But he couldn’t help himself. He lifted her chin and
brushed a quick kiss on her mouth.
Or he meant to be quick but the trust in her eyes and
the warmth of her lips and her lemony scent clouded his brain. And when her
mouth clung to his, instead of pulling away, he wrapped her in his arms. Her
taste went from sweet and warm to shock waves of heat through his system. Not
dragging her down on the ground and going for more took all his will power.
When at last they separated, her eyes were at half
mast and her lips were plumped from his kiss. He backed away. “I shouldn’t have
done that. I can’t—”
“No big deal, Wescott. A kiss.” She dismissed it with
an insouciant wave. But her cheeks flushed almost as red as her T-shirt. “You
must be deprived. Just shut up and take me to Tyson’s.” She sashayed back to
the Cherokee.
“Yes, ma’am.” Back in the driver’s seat—but only
literally—he turned the key and steered back onto the rural road. He’d almost
blown it back there. Sensations rocketed through him. The yearning of a man who’d
been out in the
Hospital Burn Center kept me for months. I was wild with pain and grief for
Gail. Medication put me out of it through the surgeries. I don’t remember much
of that time.”
Reconstruction must’ve taken its toll. Maybe too much.
“At the time, I heard burning debris fell on you from the loft.”
She nodded, lifting a hand to touch her facial scar. “Fixing
this scar would’ve skewed in my hairline, so I let it go. I’m lucky to have my
hair. Apparently I covered my head with a wet towel before I charged into the
barn.”
“You pulled Gail out.”
“Too late. Getting knocked out by a beam, she inhaled
too much smoke.” The pain in her voice reached into his chest and gave a good
twist.
When they stopped at the traffic light marking the
head of the peninsula, she said, “Go left, then Route 23 to Oak Mills.”
When they were headed that direction, he said, “I’m
surprised Tyson agreed to see you.”
Her eyes brightened. “He didn’t, not at first. When I
threatened to park in his driveway until he talked to me, he gave in. He said
he kept his personal notes. Exactly my hope.”
The route took them away from the coastal fog and into
clear skies. The narrow two-lane road climbed tree-covered hills and dipped
into a valley where a lake gleamed like stretched blue plastic.
“We’re early. Tyson’s place is closer than I thought.”
He pulled over at a public boat-launch ramp and stopped the vehicle. Three
trucks with boat trailers sat in parking places, the owners out buzzing around
on the lake.
He walked around to open her door, but Ms.
Independence had managed in spite of her bandaged hands. The clean air smelled
of wet sand and algae.
He stood by her side at the lake’s edge. Silvery
minnows darted in the clear shallows. Squeals of delight rippled from the
public beach farther down the shore. “So what’s this about you starting to
remember?”
On a sigh of resignation, she turned to look at him. “I
let the police chief think I remembered something. If what we learn from Tyson
jogs my memory, maybe I will have something new. Then they’ll have to
reopen the case. Maybe I saw something. Or someone.”
He touched her nose, pinked by the sun. “You’re poking
your pretty nose in where it could get bitten off.”
A blush crept up her golden-tanned cheeks. Didn’t she
know she was hot? Gail flaunted her looks and used them. But not Lani. Was it
the fire that had taken away her self confidence?
She huffed and twitched her shoulders. “Dammit, Jake,
finding some shred of evidence to get the case re-opened is worth the risk.”
He wanted to look away from the pain and longing in
her eyes but forced himself to hold her gaze. Odd, but when he looked at her, he
no longer saw Gail’s face. Too much shared pain between them for anything more
than friendship, no matter how drawn to her he was.
But he couldn’t help himself. He lifted her chin and
brushed a quick kiss on her mouth.
Or he meant to be quick but the trust in her eyes and
the warmth of her lips and her lemony scent clouded his brain. And when her
mouth clung to his, instead of pulling away, he wrapped her in his arms. Her
taste went from sweet and warm to shock waves of heat through his system. Not
dragging her down on the ground and going for more took all his will power.
When at last they separated, her eyes were at half
mast and her lips were plumped from his kiss. He backed away. “I shouldn’t have
done that. I can’t—”
“No big deal, Wescott. A kiss.” She dismissed it with
an insouciant wave. But her cheeks flushed almost as red as her T-shirt. “You
must be deprived. Just shut up and take me to Tyson’s.” She sashayed back to
the Cherokee.
“Yes, ma’am.” Back in the driver’s seat—but only
literally—he turned the key and steered back onto the rural road. He’d almost
blown it back there. Sensations rocketed through him. The yearning of a man who’d
been out in the
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