He squeezed her arm, then released her. Although he knew something wasn’t right about her situation, he was pretty sure she meant him no harm. In fact, it was obvious that he would have died if she hadn’t come to his aid. She was definitely hiding something, but whatever her secret was, she’d risked it by taking him in, with nothing to gain from helping him.
“Thank you, Princess, for everything you’ve done. You saved my life.”
She looked at him and their eyes met. “You’re welcome.”
He had never seen such striking eyes outside of a storybook. They were such a clear blue that he felt like he was looking at a warm summer sky. She had her hair pulled back in a ponytail again, which only served to accent her high cheekbones and full lips. He guessed that she was in her late twenties, which seemed odd to him because most women in their twenties that he knew didn’t live out in the middle of nowhere with a young girl. What was she doing out here? And where were Chloe’s parents?
“How long have you been living here?” he asked, and was immediately alerted when her eyes darted away again.
She seemed to be considering something, because eventually she made a decision and looked back at him with determination written all over her face.
“Look, Jack, I might as well tell you up-front. We value our privacy out here. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need to recuperate, but please don’t ask a lot of questions. I won’t lie to you, but I won’t answer you, either. Okay?”
Jack studied her carefully. He didn’t believe for one minute that her reticence was due to privacy concerns, but he could be patient if he needed to. If he paid close attention, both Casey and Chloe would probably let bits of information slip in normal conversation. Being an investigator was too ingrained in him to just let this mystery go. And that meant he had to try to ask at least one more question.
“Can you at least tell me your name?”
She looked surprised. “I already told you. It’s Casey.”
“Casey what?”
“Just Casey is fine.”
Jack leaned toward her, then grimaced as pain shot through his shoulder. “Look, I’m not trying to give you a hard time or be rude, but you must realize that I’m an FBI agent, and your behavior is suspicious, even for a woman who values her privacy.”
“I can’t help that, Jack. I’m not a princess and I’m not a puzzle. I’m just a woman who enjoys a quiet life who’s trying to make her way through the world.” She gave him a smile that told him the subject was closed, then picked up the old bandages and disappeared. He watched her go, more intrigued than ever.
What was her story? Better yet, what was her full name? And most importantly, what had happened that made her feel she had to hide? She was brave enough to rescue a stranger and perform surgeries to save his life. So why did she seem so afraid?
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