He had a point. She snatched the black muffler from her own neck though, and held it out to him. “At least use this. If you end up catching pneumonia or something, I’d never forgive myself.”
He took the long scarf and looped it around his neck. “Satisfied?”
“I would be if you had gloves, too.”
He smiled and grabbed her hand, then tucked them both, her mitten and all, in his pocket. “This’ll do.”
She gulped a little, and concentrated hard on not falling down the steps beside him.
The night was clear, the dark sky studded with stars, easily visible despite the glow of the streetlights as they walked toward town. Hadley gathered herself enough to point out different places as they walked. “That’s church row.” She gestured to a tree-lined turnoff. “My dad’s church—Lucius Community—and two others are on that street. It’s really called Poplar Avenue, but with the town’s only churches located there…” She shrugged. Even through her mitten she could feel the warmth of his long fingers wrapped around hers. The sensation was causing her to babble.
“Is there a hospital here?”
“A very small one. And we seem to have enough doctors and dentists to serve the town, fortunately. We even have a chiropractor.” She eyed him. “Stu got laid up a while back after he tangled with an ornery cow. Up to then, he’d never been to a chiropractor in his life. Now he’s a believer, though. I can give you his number if you’re sore from the accident.”
“I’m surviving,” he assured.
“But how does your forehead feel?”
His gaze slanted her way. “Like it tried to go through a windshield.”
She bit her lip. “I’m so sorry.”
His fingers squeezed hers a little. “Forget it.”
But, of course, she couldn’t. Their accident was the sole reason he was stuck in Lucius, and there was no point in pretending otherwise. Just because he’d chosen to pass the time helping her out of her situation with Wendell didn’t change anything, other than to prove what a really nice man he was.
They passed the sheriff’s office. The windows were dark. Shane was undoubtedly working on the house at the edge of town that he’d been building himself. In contrast, when they reached it, the Tipped Barrel was lit up like the Fourth of July. There was a spill of vehicles parked in front of the lively tavern. Her feet dragged to a halt, though, when she recognized one of them.
“What’s wrong?”
Hadley wished she could pretend she hadn’t seen her brother-in-law’s truck. “My sister’s husband is in there,” she said after a moment.
“Judging by the number of cars, it looks like half the county is in there. Popular like you said.”
“Yes.” She tugged her hand out of the warm safety of his pocket. “The last time Charlie went to the Tipped Barrel, he got in a bar fight. My sister and he are still paying off the damages. He’s not supposed to come here, at all.”
“Then call your brother. He’s the sheriff.”
Hadley started through the parking lot. “He is, and he’d probably have to lock Charlie up, and Charlie would lose his job, and Evie and my niece and nephews would be the ones to suffer the consequences. It’ll have to be me. I’ll just see you back at Tiff’s.
He snorted, and caught her arm. “Whoa. Hold on. You think I’m going to let you go in there on your own? You’ve never been in a bar, remember? What was your brother-in-law fighting about?”
“Who knows? If he was drinking, and why else would he have gone there—” she pointed accusingly at the tavern “—other than to drink? Then he wouldn’t need much reason. He’s not really pleasant when he drinks.”
“And your sister stays with him because he’s a great guy when he’s not drinking?”
Hadley sighed. She stepped around a pile of slushy mud. “I really wish you’d go back to Tiff’s.”
“Why?”
She stopped. Flopped her hands to her sides. “Because this is embarrassing, okay? You’re a nice guy, and there is probably nothing but trouble waiting inside that place. I’m not going to… to relax, and you’re not going to meet anyone but Charlie,’ cause I can’t let him stay in there! I think I’ve caused you enough problems. For heaven’s sake, the last thing you should concern yourself with is my problems with my brothers and Wendell Pierce or Charlie
Beckett.”
“How old are you?”
She faltered. “What? I’m twenty-seven. And no, you don’t have to tell me how pathetic it is that I’ve never been into a bar at my age.”
“Your concern for me is commendable but unnecessary,” he said, his voice flat. “I’ve got ten years on you, sweetness, and a lifetime of managing my own way. If you’re foolish enough to think I’ll let you go in there to deal with your brother-in-law alone, then you’re not as bright as I thought.”
“I wish we’d never come out tonight,” she muttered. “Well fine, Mr. In-Control, have it your way. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She marched toward the entrance, not daring to think beyond getting through the front door.
Wood closed his hand over the back of her neck as they went inside. Instead of shivering from the contact, though, she found it comforting.
A couple Hadley had never seen before brushed against them as they hurried out the door, and Wood stepped even closer to her. She could feel the steadiness of him all down her spine, and it gave her enough courage to stop praying that Charlie wouldn’t be inside after all and to start looking around for him.
There was a long, dark bar across the rear of the room. Smoke hung in the red-tinted air, and music blasted from the live group playing on a raised platform, not entirely disguising the clink of balls on the collection of pool tables or the voices from the people bellied up to the bar.
Wood lowered his head next to hers. “Do you see him?”
His cheek had brushed against hers, a hint of rasp in the contact. She shivered inside her coat. “No. I can’t believe how many people are here.”
“Friday night,” Wood dismissed. “Maybe he’s at one of the tables.” Even as he spoke, he was moving forward. Hadley moved with him. They skirted the pool tables. Four in all, and all being used.
“What’s he look like?” His cheek rasped against hers again.
How quickly her thoughts could scramble. She focused with an effort. The cigarette smoke was nearly choking her. “Shorter than you. Medium-brown hair. Kind of a husky build. I can’t believe Charlie would come here again after—” She jumped when the smash of glass sounded nearby.
She’d barely had time to look in the direction of the fracas before she found herself firmly tucked behind Wood, his hand unrelentingly strong on hers as he held her there.
She peered around his wide shoulder to see three men scuffling near the bar, and sagged against Wood with relief. None of them were Charlie.
“Had? What the hell you doing here?”
She whirled around and nearly yanked her arm out of her socket thanks to Wood’s grip. “Charlie.” She tugged at Wood and he turned with her. “I could ask the same thing of you. Does Evie know you’re here?”
Charlie made a face and lifted his drink. “What makes you think she’d care? Your sister doesn’t remember what the word fun even means.”
Hadley stepped closer