“I’m sorry, Clary. It’s difficult enough without the whole town asking questions—not that Jessie or I thought you’d spread it around. I guess neither of us really wanted to talk about it. But I should have told you.”
“I’m sure you had a lot on your mind, Janey. Don’t worry about it,” Clary said. But his expression told a different story. He was hurt; maybe he hadn’t officially asked her out, but everyone in town knew how he felt, and it was not only understandable for a man who’d buried his wife at his young age to take his time jumping into another relationship, it was expected in a town like Erskine.
He wouldn’t admit it, but he wanted an explanation, and after what she’d held back already, she felt she owed it to him. Not that there was all that much to tell. “He showed up two weeks ago, out of the blue, and before I could get rid of him, Jessie came out of the house. Noah took one look at her and just seemed to…know.”
“It’s the eyes,” Clary said grudgingly.
“Yeah,” Janey agreed. It was more than that, but the rest of the similarities were subtler, deeper, and she was the only person in town who knew Noah well enough to pick up on them. “Anyway, he said he was here on business, and that he’d be back this way when he was done.”
“And you haven’t seen him.”
“He’s back now.”
“So I hear, but you haven’t seen him.”
“It can’t be easy for him, either, Clary, discovering he has a nine-year-old daughter.”
“It didn’t have to be a surprise, Janey.”
“I know.”
“And yet here you are, defending him.”
“Yeah,” she said with a humorless smile. “But here’s the thing. Being angry with him won’t make this easier on any of us, especially Jessie.”
“You’re right.” Clary flipped off his Stetson and rotated it in his hands as he always did when he was agitated. “It’s just…With his track record, I’d hate to see her get her hopes up.”
“Trust me, she’s not going into this with false hopes.” Janey smiled for real this time, remembering the way Jessie had seen Noah off that morning two weeks ago. “And she’s not going to make it easy on him, either.”
“She’s your daughter,” Clary said, his face folded into its usual sober lines. “Don’t think you have to go through this alone, Janey. If you need anything…”
“You’ll be the first one I call, but Clary—” she put her hand on his arm and he stopped, turning to look at her “—I know how you feel.”
“I know.” His face went red again, and there was so much hope shining in his eyes it was almost painful to see.
“Just for the next little while, I have to concentrate on Jessie.”
“Sure. I understand.”
“Thanks,” she said, giving his arm a squeeze.
Clary opened his mouth to speak, but something over her shoulder caught his attention. “Does Bryant drive a red Porsche?” he asked.
Janey turned around and squinted in the same direction, barely making out a bit of red behind the rusted-out hulk of Arliss Cunningham’s truck parked a ways down on the opposite side of the street. “You can tell from here that’s a Porsche? Must be a guy thing.”
He gave her a sheepish smile that hardly registered, since Janey was busy looking up and down the street. Sure enough, she saw a tall suit-clad form coming out of Keller’s Market. Unfortunately, so did Clary. He took one step in that direction before Janey blocked him.
“Where are you going?”
“I just want to have a little talk with him.”
“Is he doing something wrong? Something illegal,” she qualified.
His expression was stony as he watched Noah change directions and come straight toward them. “I’m sure I can come up with something.”
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