“It’s one of the unwritten rules when you own a convertible,” Shane said, extracting a flashlight from the trunk.
“But no one puts their top down in the middle of winter.”
“Not true. Santa always has the top down on his sleigh.”
Jodie laughed as she turned and led the way around the side of the house. “Okay. I guess I never thought of it that way.”
Falling into step beside her, Shane said, “Lazarus isn’t coming with us.”
“He doesn’t believe in exercise.”
A few seconds later, Shane pointed his flashlight down a path that wound its way through the trees, and for a while they walked in silence.
“The Rutherford sisters are really into celebrating Christmas,” Shane said as the trees pressed closer, blocking out the moonlight.
“Tell me about it.”
“You’re not quite as enthused, I take it?”
She shrugged. “Not the way most people seem to be.”
“Rough childhood?”
“No. Nothing like that. I just always used to wish for one thing—that my father would be home on Christmas morning.”
“Was he?” Shane asked, taking her arm as the path narrowed.
“Usually not. He’d always send a really wonderful gift and a note saying how much he missed us. But it wasn’t the same.”
“No.”
Jodie glanced at him, but she couldn’t tell anything from his expression. “I must sound ungrateful. Sheriff Dillon said that you don’t have any family to spend Christmas with.”
“That puts us in the same boat this year. And it has to be especially rough for you—losing your house.”
“Actually, the hardest thing about it was facing the fact that I’d been so stupid about believing Billy.” She paused and glanced at Shane again. “I’m not sure how to explain it. That house meant everything to my mother. She needed the security. But to my father it was a prison. He could never stand to be in it for very long.”
“He felt the lure of the open road,” Shane said.
“Exactly. And I would have done almost anything to go with him.”
“Yes.”
She could hear the understanding in his voice. It prompted her to go on. “My mother would never agree. She said I couldn’t until I finished school. Then he went off one day and didn’t came back. When we got the news of his death, she never left the house again. She simply pined away until the day she died. Having the bank take the house over gave me a chance to get away from those memories. The day I moved out, I felt…”
“Free?” Shane asked.
“Yes.” They had stepped out of the woods, and the snow-covered ground stretched in front of them to the edge of the lake. “Does that sound crazy?”
“No.” Shane shook his head. “It’s part of what your father felt every time he went off to seek adventure.”
“You sound like you know what it feels like.”
“In a manner of speaking. But I’m still curious as to why you’re living with Irene and Sophie. Why didn’t you just rent an apartment?”
“I figure I owe them.”
Shane turned to her. “Why?”
“It’s my fault they lost their life savings.”
“You blame yourself because they trusted their nephew?”
“They only trusted him because I did. Before I mortgaged my house, they’d refused to give him any money. Paying them rent each month and helping them open their bed-and-breakfast is the least I can do.”
Shane said nothing as they walked toward an old log that had fallen along the edge of the lake. When they reached it, he switched off the flashlight and sat down. “You better eat that cheeseburger before it gets any colder.”
Joining him on the log, she fished it out of the bag and unwrapped it. It was still warm, and she could smell just a hint of onion. Her mouth was open when she paused.
“What’s wrong?” Shane asked.
“I think I’m forgetting to Beware of Greeks Bearing Gifts,” Jodie said. “There’s got to be a catch to this.”
“It’s not poisoned. I promise.”
She shot him a look. “Neither is the bait you’ll use when you go ice fishing. But you won’t be putting it on the line just because you think the fish are hungry. You lured me out here with food to pump me for information, didn’t you? And so far, I’ve cooperated fully.”
Shane threw back his head and laughed. The sound was rich and full. Jodie smiled as she bit into the cheeseburger.
“Why is it that you’re so suspicious of me?” he asked.
“Because you’re not what you seem to be.” The French fries were salty and tasted of grease. Wonderful.
“No one is what they seem to be,” Shane said.
“Alicia Finnerty is,” Jodie pointed out around another bite of cheeseburger. “And Sophie and Irene are. And Sheriff Dillon…Well, maybe he’s not a good example.”
“He’s a good example of what I’m saying,” Shane said. “And as far as Ms. Finnerty and Sophie and Irene go, I’ll bet they have a side of themselves that they don’t present to the world. Some secrets they’re hiding. So do you, I’ll bet.”
Jodie thought of the letter from Billy that she was still carrying in her pocket and glanced at Shane. When he’d caught it and handed it to her, he’d noticed that it didn’t have a stamp. Did he suspect she’d heard from Billy?
“Tell you what. If you’ll tell me one of your secrets, I’ll tell you one of mine,” he said.
His eyes were dark and mysterious in the moonlight. It was even easier now to picture him as a wizard. She thought briefly of Merlin offering knowledge to Arthur. Of the snake in the garden offering much the same thing to Eve. She tucked the cheeseburger back into the bag. “I’ve already told you several.”
Shane nodded. “Fair enough. It’s your turn to ask,” Shane said. “Ask me anything at all.”
A breeze moved the branches overhead, shifting the shadows, and she could see the challenge in his eyes. The words were out before she could prevent them. “Is your name really Shane?”
“Yes,” he said, shifting his gaze to the lakeshore.
“Were your parents big fans of the book?”
“They never said.”
There was a flatness to his tone she’d never heard before, but when he turned to her, he was smiling. “It was a tough name to grow into. It cost me several black eyes in grade school. Until I learned that it’s hard for people to mock you if you turn the tables and laugh at yourself first.”
“Some people never learn that lesson,” Jodie said.
“They get a lot of black eyes. What about you? Is Jodie your given name or a nickname?”
Jodie wrinkled her nose. “It’s my given name. My dad’s name was Joe. Mom was Dee. But I never got in a fight over it.”
“It sounds like your parents loved you very much.”
When she looked into his eyes this time, she saw a bleakness that hadn’t been