Wishes At First Light. Joanne Rock
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“Yes,” she answered tightly, uncertain how much he knew about what happened to her. “I’m not sure what you’ve heard about that night I left town. But if you’ve been staying with Zach...” She let the words hang, hoping he’d fill in the blanks.
It would be strange having the whole town know her long-kept secrets. Once her testimony against Jeremy Covington was made public during the trial, the truth about her past would be common knowledge.
“Your brother told me you’d been cyber stalked and ran into trouble at the quarry with a masked man.” His jaw flexed. “Sam roughed up the guy he now knows must have been Covington and you left Heartache with Sam and your brother to prevent Sam from being brought up on charges since he’d had run-ins with the law in his past.” He summarized it neatly, his eyes steady on hers and giving her no reason to believe he knew more than he was telling.
Or that he thought badly of her for running away without telling anyone. Later in life, she’d learned some of her mother’s family thought she and Zach were highly ungrateful children for leaving their mother in “her time of need” after their father went to jail. What her mother wanted had been the last thing on her mind at the time. Gabriella had done all she could do to keep herself together. Two weeks after that attack, she’d overdosed and was lucky to be alive.
“Right.” Gabriella leaned back from the table as their food arrived, the plates still steaming as the waitress set them down on the plank table. “My brother came back to town a couple of years ago to find some closure. Since we didn’t report the guy to the cops at the time, we’d always worried what if it wasn’t an isolated incident. Turns out, it wasn’t. And now they’ve finally caught Jeremy Covington.”
“A former town council member and a prominent local business owner.” Clayton shook his head as he tossed some pepper on his eggs. “I couldn’t believe the story when I read it in the Memphis newspaper. I didn’t find out until I spoke to Zach that you’d been a victim, too.” He set the shaker down and reached across the table to cover her hand with his. “I’m so damn sorry, Gabby.”
The contact was brief, but the sympathy in his gaze lingered. And even after all this time, she welcomed that. Appreciated his words.
“Thank you.” She cleared her throat and willed away the sudden emotion. “I’ve done a lot of healing since then with the help of a good counselor, but I’ve been back here a few times and it is always a mixed blessing for me.”
“I’ve never been a fan of this town myself. But I hear you’ve got a home out on the West Coast.” He speared a forkful of pancake and focused on his food, a kindness that helped her get her emotions back under control.
She took a bite of her veggie scramble and tried not to think about all she wasn’t saying. All the ways Clayton figured into that life-changing night that sent her running in the first place.
“It’s a town home in San Jose with a rooftop garden that lets me pretend I still have a yard and can grow things.” Her mind drifted home while he shoveled through his breakfast. She loved that garden, opening it up to the town home association residents as a community garden. Some of her neighbors had started plots of their own. “I also created a website for cyber stalking victims that helps disseminate information about the different laws in various states to help people protect themselves.”
She needed a real job soon. Her website was not-for-profit, along with all the work she did for the organization she ran under her legally changed name. Her California friends all knew her as Ellie to protect her identity. She did some freelance work for her brother’s digital security company, administrative duties that didn’t have anything to do with the coursework she’d done in psychology at online universities over the years. The freelancing paid the bills, but it had always been temporary until her life was more settled. Now with her stalker in jail, she needed to consider her next steps.
“There aren’t many people who could take a frightening experience like that and turn it into something that helps others. Good for you for creating something positive out of what you went through.” He nodded at the uniformed policeman who walked by their table. The officer must work with Sam given the Sheriff’s Department patch on his sleeve. “I hope you aren’t stuck in a motel on the edge of town because I was staying at your brother’s place.”
“Absolutely not.” She shook her head, remembering how easy it had always been to talk to Clayton. Some of the nervousness in her stomach had eased, allowing her to eat most of her breakfast. “He knew I was going to take a motel room since I thought I might need a private place to retreat at the end of the day as I sit in on the Covington trial.” She hesitated. “Zach has gotten used to being protective of me, which is nice, of course. But sometimes I need to deal with things on my own terms.”
Realizing all they’d done since they sat down was talk about her, she felt her cheeks grow warm. She wasn’t good with men or social chitchat.
“Well I hope you won’t feel too crowded if I take a room at your motel.” Clayton waved over the waitress to top off their coffee mugs and thanked her.
“You’ll be staying at the same motel as me?” She tensed, knowing she’d be getting even less sleep if that was true.
She really did need to find a time to speak to him privately. See if she could put those bad dreams to rest by sharing the story with Clayton, who had figured in that night so prominently for her, even if he was completely unaware.
“I was on my way to book a room since my work for Zach is done. I’m staying in town for the Hasting family reunion on Saturday and after that—” he tossed his napkin on the table and shoved aside his plate “—I’ll be heading back to Memphis.”
“Oh.” Not sure what else to say, she gulped the fresh coffee, sizzling off a few taste buds in the process. Ow.
“Would you rather I stay somewhere else besides the motel? Is that too close for comfort?” he asked, raising a dark eyebrow.
Was it just her overactive imagination, or was there a wealth of innuendo in those words? Their flirtatious online chats came to mind. How many of them had Clayton actually authored? She knew for sure he hadn’t been the one to send her those last messages. Jeremy Covington had impersonated Clay online, deceiving Gabriella into meeting him out at that quarry.
She remembered Covington vaguely from her teenage years. His wife taught at the high school and he’d been an assistant coach on the school’s football team. Since she’d learned that he was her attacker, she remembered that in his work with the football team, he would have seen her and Clayton together when they met after school near the bleachers. The football players often practiced on that field at the same time. Covington must have known enough about the fledgling relationship to impersonate Clay.
“No. Of course not.” She wished she could hide behind her cup. She had no idea how to read him and suddenly, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. How many times had she confused his words with her attacker’s in her dreams? “Just surprised you aren’t staying at the Heartache B & B,” she finished lamely.
“Really?” He tossed bills on the table before she could fish her credit card out of her wallet. “Time hasn’t changed me all that much, Gabby. I’m still not a center-of-town kind of guy. And outside of the B & B there aren’t many habitable choices. Which is how we’re