“About what?”
She hesitated.
“You don’t have to tell me. Walking helps quite a bit.”
Giving her emotional space, but not physical space. She looked at him, and for the first time got past the sheer impact of his solidity and strength to notice that he was a handsome man. Very handsome, in a rugged, healthy way.
She sighed. Not now. Please. But it was a simple fact that the frisson he made her feel was not fear for her life, but fear of dangerous sexual attraction. With a man as closed off as Wade Kendrick, there could only be pain on that path.
But she was still young enough and healthy enough to feel those urges. Well, maybe that was a good thing. Another part of her coming back to life.
“Are we taking that walk?”
“Uh, yeah.” She punched in the codes again and together they stepped out onto the small porch. She set out purposefully in the direction of the town park, thinking it would do her some good to see kids at play again. Among the many things she had avoided in the past year was children, because they reminded her of things lost. But she might be ready to let them remind her of some of the goodness in life.
Once again he measured his pace to hers, as if it came automatically. And once again, he said nothing.
The summer afternoon was warm, the sun as brilliant as it could get this far north. And without warning she found herself talking, although she had to catch herself frequently so she didn’t reveal too much.
“I used to live in...down south. Almost in the tropics, actually. I notice the difference in the sun here.”
“It is different,” he agreed.
“The days are longer in the summer, but the sun never gets as high or bright. And the winter nights are so long here.”
“Yeah.”
“But at least I don’t burn as easily.” She managed a small laugh. “In the summer down there you can get a tan walking across a parking lot.”
It was his turn to give a small laugh, as if he, too, were trying. “I’ve been in all kinds of climates.”
Well, that was a positive step, she thought. “I imagine so.” She was careful not to question. Instead she chose to talk a little more about herself. “I’ve had a lot to adjust to, and I haven’t been doing a very good job of it.”
For a few paces he didn’t say anything. Then, “I guess it’s harder to adjust when you’re afraid.”
“It’s that obvious, huh?”
“Like I said, only to someone who would know fear.”
“I don’t know whether that’s a compliment or a criticism.”
“Neither. Just an observation.”
“Do you ever get afraid?” As soon as the words were out she realized she might have trespassed too far again, but it was too late to snatch them back. She almost held her breath, wondering if he would turn and walk away.
Instead, he astonished her by answering. “I’m human.”
Sideways, but still an answer. She relaxed a bit and looked around, taking in the old trees that lined the street, their leaves rustling ceaselessly in the summer breeze. Nobody else seemed to be out and about, but that wasn’t unusual. Here, as everywhere, most couples both needed to work.
“In the evenings,” she remarked, “there will often be people sitting out on their front porches. Different from where I used to live. Most of the neighborhoods around me back home were built relatively recently, when it was important to have a privacy-fenced backyard. You’d almost never see anyone out front unless they were doing yard work.”
“In most places in the world where I’ve been, a house is where you sleep or shelter from the elements. The rest of life happens in common areas, on the street, in front of the house. Not for everyone, of course. There are always some who want to keep the unwashed masses away. And in some cultures an enclosed courtyard is considered necessary, but given that several generations of a family live together, it’s not exactly isolation.”
That was practically half an encyclopedia coming from this man. “Do you think we’re losing something with those fenced backyards?”
“Depends on what you want out of life. But once you build that fence, if you’re having a barbecue you’re not going to have a neighbor who might drop over for a chat and bring a six-pack, and wind up staying on for dinner.”
“True.” She turned that around for a few seconds. “I don’t really know how different it feels to live in a place like this,” she finally admitted. “Basically, when I come home from work I pass all these probably very nice people on their front porches and go inside and lock myself in.”
“Maybe you have good reason.”
Maybe she did. Or maybe she’d been acting like a wounded animal that wanted to be left alone in its burrow. The whole point of the Marshals moving her here had been so that she didn’t have to live this way. Another sigh escaped her.
“I thought,” she said reluctantly, “that I was breaking out of the cycle earlier today. I even told myself to go take a walk.”
“But?”
“But then I realized that I’d just been distracted. That despite everything, I’m still worried at some level because of that call last night. Oh, I can’t even explain it to myself.”
They reached the park and found a bench not far from the sidewalk. Nobody else was there, so Cory’s hope for distraction was disappointed.
Wade let the silence flow around them with the breeze for a few minutes before he spoke again. “Sometimes,” he said quietly, “we get confused because we’re changing.”
That made her look at him, and for an instant she wished she hadn’t because she felt again that unexpected, unwanted attraction. What was going on with her? Why did she suddenly have the worst urge to put her head on the shoulder of a stranger? To feel his arms close around her?
She jumped up from the bench and headed home. Walking it off seemed like the only sane course available to her. “We need to start dinner,” she said, the sole explanation she could offer for her behavior. Because there was no way she could tell him that the feelings he awakened in her were nearly as frightening as that phone call had been.
Despite her sudden takeoff, he fell in step beside her before she had made two full strides. Glued to her side. Part of her wanted to resent that, and part of her was grateful for it. Confusion? She had it in spades. At least her fear and grief had been clear, so very clear. No questions there.
Now the questions were surfacing, the conflicting feelings, all the stuff she’d avoided for so long. She forced herself to slow her pace to an easier walk. She’d been running again, she realized. Had she forgotten every other mode of existence?
“Darn,” she said under her breath. All of a sudden it was as if someone had held up a mirror, and painful or not she had to look at herself. She wasn’t seeing a whole lot that she liked, either.
“Something wrong?” Wade asked mildly.
She stopped midstride and looked at him. Mistake, because the truth burst out of her and she wasn’t sure she wanted it to. What did she know about this guy after all? “Has something ever made you stop and take a good look at yourself?”
“Yes.”
“What if you don’t like what you see?” She didn’t wait for an answer, just started walking again. She didn’t expect an answer, frankly. It wasn’t the kind of question anyone else could answer.
But he surprised her. “You make up your mind to change.”
“Easier