Her eyes filled with tears, which she blinked back.
“Audrey...” Mark touched her arm gently and she stepped back. She heard his sigh as his hands settled back on his hips. “I’m going to put the pet door in this evening.” He changed the subject to something safe. “But I think it’ll take two people—one inside and one out—to get it placed right. If your mom’s okay and y’all come after supper, maybe you could help me for a few minutes?”
“Yeah, if Mom takes her sedative and goes to bed, we’ll come down and help you.” She shrugged. “I’m never sure that will happen the way it’s supposed to, but we can hope.”
“Once I get the hole cut, I can cover it with plywood until you can get down there...whenever that might be.”
In other words, I’ll wait until you come around, his eyes said.
An involuntary warmth passed through her, and she started to smile at the sensation, but then the true source hit her and she clenched her teeth. It wasn’t a comforting warmth. It was left over from the flare of anger always burning in her, deep inside.
And it was always followed by a chill.
* * *
SEE, I TOLD you finding her would be no problem.
Trey timed his late lunch at the same time school would be getting out. She had a daughter in the first grade, so he figured she’d probably be there to pick up the kid after school, and he was right. She was talking with some guy—the kid’s teacher, most likely—but she didn’t like him. Her posture was rigid, and once when he’d touched her arm, she’d stepped quickly back.
She’d like your touch. Wouldn’t want to step back—not that you should let her even if she wants to. You have to show a woman who’s in charge.
Trey’s fingers tingled at the thought of touching Audrey’s smooth skin. He wouldn’t let them dig in. She’d probably bruise easily, she was so fair. No, he would just use his fingertips and let them glide down her face, her neck, her bare shoulders...
Trey took another small bite of the BLT from the diner, pulling his eyes away, forcing them to look in the other direction for a while. It wouldn’t do for her, or anybody else in town, to think he was watching. He’d have to be discreet and move slowly.
Some of the moms and kids were coming to the park to play on the swings. He smiled at the ones who came near. “Hi.” He gave a good-ol’-boy nod. “Afternoon.”
He took a sip of the soda and another bite of the delicious sandwich. Take-out food was a splurge, but to be able to sit in the gazebo at the park in the middle of town and see all the goings-on was worth the indulgence.
She started to walk with the child at her side—the little girl had hair as bright as her mama’s. So she lived within walking distance—but then everybody must live within walking distance in this hole-in-the-wall town.
He allowed himself a casual glance. They walked east. That was good. When he went back to get his boat, which he’d left tied up at the marina while he came into town to grab a quick bite, he’d watch for her car. Not many streets turned off Main Street on the east side of town. It might take a few days to check them all. Might even require coming early in the morning or late at night. But fishermen were notorious for keeping strange hours.
He took the last few bites, pausing for a few minutes to stretch his arms out along the back of the bench—seemingly in no hurry to chase after the redhead who had now gotten out of sight. Then, like a dutiful citizen, he gathered up his paper wrapper and foam cup and threw them away in the trash can before heading back to his truck.
By the time those coppery tresses came back into his view, Audrey and the child were almost to the edge of town. Only one house remained on the left side of the road and none on the right. So the house on the corner must be hers. He turned his signal on and turned left onto Beecher Road, never glancing her way.
A little way up the road on the right was a driveway. He slowed a tad to check it out. Her tan SUV! Right there, plain as day in front of the two-story house. The only house on the road, he noted, as he drove on back to the marina.
Damn! You’re a helluva lot better at this than I ever thought you could be!
“Going out again?” The marina guy—probably Beecher himself—came out of his small shop as Trey got out of his truck and headed to his boat.
Trey grinned broadly, letting out some of the excitement racing through his body. “Can’t stay away when there’s one out there just waiting to be caught.” He laughed, knowing he was safe in his admission, and he heard the echo of his dad laughing with him.
Beecher’s eyes tightened slightly. “You’re not from these parts.”
Trey had spent the better part of the day out in the boat, listening to his daddy’s voice conjure a sympathetic story.
Do this exactly the way I told you to.
He shook his head, turning down the wattage on his smile until it became appropriately sad. “West Virginia.” He sighed. “Spent the last two years since my daddy died taking care of my mom, God rest her soul.” He removed his cap for a second and covered his heart, then flipped it back up on his head. “She had Alzheimer’s. Died last month.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Beecher’s lips pressed to a thin line.
Told you. There’s the sympathetic look.
“She’s better off, but her death knocked the wind out of my sails.” Trey glanced away, blinking back tears that were meant for Granny, not his mom. “I just couldn’t stay there. Decided it was time for a new start. Leave the bad memories behind and carry the good ones with me, you know?” He patted his chest over his heart.
“So, you’re looking to move here permanently?”
Trey shrugged. “Staying at a motel in Benton right now,” he lied. “But I like the fishing here. Like Kentucky Lake. If something turns up in the way of work, I’d consider it. Money’s not going to last forever.”
Beecher nodded and held out his hand to shake. “I’m Sol Beecher, by the way. I didn’t introduce myself earlier.”
Trey shook the extended hand warmly. “Trey Cooper.”
“I’ll keep my ear to the ground.” The fancy phone on Beecher’s belt started playing some idiotic song. He reached for it. “If I hear of any jobs, I’ll let you know.”
“I’d be muchly beholden.” Trey laid on the good old Appalachian-boy charm. He got in his boat and started untying as Beecher answered his phone.
The groundwork’s laid.
* * *
“THE HOLES ARE lined up perfectly right there. Can you hold it long enough for me to screw it in?” Mark couldn’t see Audrey through the pet door. She was on her knees inside the garage, and he was on his knees outside.
“I’ve got it.”
Using his dad’s electric screwdriver made quick work of the top two screws. “Okay. The top ones are in. It’s not going anywhere now, so you can let go.”
Her grunt of relief came through the plastic as did the rustle of her movements as she stood up. She’d helped cut the installation time in half, he figured. He placed the other four screws, then stepped inside to add the finishing plate. “Tess.” The child looked up from where she sat on the floor beside the dog bed, cradling the puppies in her lap. “If you’ll put the collar on Cher, we’ll see if this thing works.”
“It