could go, she’d wait for the wrecker alone; she wouldn’t mind. But she did mind. She was afraid of the dark, of men who might show up when she was helpless. She hated her own fear.
He glanced at her hands. She was worrying the purse again.
He put away the cell phone. “I don’t bite.”
She actually jumped. She swallowed. “Sorry.”
His eyes narrowed. He’d been deliberately provoking her for a long time, ever since she ran into him with her car and then accused him of causing the accident. She was aggressive in her way. But alone with him, she was afraid. Very much afraid. Such a beautiful woman, with so many hang-ups.
“Why are you so nervous?” he asked quietly.
She forced a smile. “I’m not nervous,” she said. She looked around for car lights.
His eyes were narrow, assessing. “There was a pileup just outside the downtown loop,” he told her. “That’s what I was checking for on my phone. The wrecker should be here shortly.”
She nodded. “Thanks,” she said jerkily.
He lifted an eyebrow. “Do you really think you’re that attractive?” he asked in a cool drawl.
Her shocked eyes went up to meet his. “Excuse me?”
There was something ice-cold in his look, in his manner. She was bringing back memories he hated, memories of another beautiful brunette, provocative, coy, manipulative. “You’re sitting there tied in knots. You look as if you expect me to leap on you.” His sensual lips pulled up into a cold smile. “You’d be lucky,” he added provocatively. “I’m very selective about women. You wouldn’t even make the first cut.”
She stopped twisting the purse. “Lucky me,” she said with an icy smile. “Because I wouldn’t have you on toast!”
His eyes flashed. He wanted to throw things. He couldn’t leave her here alone, but he wanted to. She made him furious.
She started to get out of the car.
He locked the door from a control panel. “You’re not going anywhere until the wrecker gets here.” He leaned toward her abruptly, without warning.
She shot back against the door, suddenly trembling. Her eyes were wide and frightened. Her body was like taut rope. She just looked at him, shivering.
He cursed under his breath.
She swallowed. Swallowed again. She couldn’t even look at him. She hated showing that weakness. Aggression always provoked it. She’d never dealt with her past. She couldn’t get over it, get through it.
Headlights came up from behind and slowed. “It’s the tow truck,” Sara said. “Please let me out,” she choked out.
He unlocked the door. She scrambled out and ran to the vehicle’s driver.
He got out, too, cursing himself for that look on her face. She’d done nothing to cause him to attack her, nothing except show fear. It wasn’t like him to attack women, to threaten them. He was disturbed by his own response to her.
“Thank you for staying with me,” she told Wolf in a hunted tone. “He’s going to drop me off at my apartment and take the car to the dealership,” she choked out, indicating the elderly driver. “Good night.”
She ran to the wrecker and climbed up into the passenger seat while the driver worked at securing her car.
Wolf was still standing beside his car when the tow truck left. Sara didn’t even turn her head.
* * *
GABRIEL WAS HOME for a few days. Sara went to Comanche Wells to cook for him.
He noticed her subdued attitude. “What’s wrong, honey?” he asked softly as they drank coffee at the kitchen table.
She grimaced. “I had a flat tire, coming home from Houston after the opera.”
“At night?” he asked, surprised. “Why did you drive? Why not take a limo?”
She bit her lower lip. “I’m trying to...grow up a little,” she said, managing a shaky smile. “Or I was.”
“I hate to think of you sitting in the dark waiting for a wrecker,” he said.
“Mr. Patterson saw me there and stopped. I sat in his car while the wrecker got to me.”
“Mr. Patterson?” he mused. “Wolf was in Houston, too?”
“Apparently, he likes opera, too, and there isn’t a company here right now,” she said through her teeth.
“I see.”
Her expression was tormented. “He...he didn’t even do anything. He just turned in his seat and leaned toward me. I...reacted like a crazy person,” she bit off. “Made him mad.”
“We’ve had this discussion before,” he began.
“I hate therapists,” she said hotly. “The last one said I wanted people to feel sorry for me, and I probably overreacted at what happened!”
“He what?” he burst out. “You never told me!”
“I was afraid you’d hit him and end up in jail,” she returned.
“I would have,” he said harshly.
She drew in a breath and sipped coffee. “Anyway, it wasn’t helping.” She closed her eyes. “I can’t get past it. I just can’t.”
“There are nice men in the world,” he pointed out. “Some even live right here in Jacobsville.”
Her smile was world-weary. “It wouldn’t matter.”
He knew what she’d gone through. He hadn’t known that the rape attempt wasn’t the first one, that their stepfather had spent months making suggestive comments, trying to touch her, trying to get her into bed long before he used force. That, combined with the court trial, had warped Sara in ways that made Gabriel despair for her future. What a hell of a thing to happen to a girl at the age of thirteen.
“You love children,” he said quietly. “You’re dooming yourself to a life all alone.”
“I have my entertainments.”
“You live in that virtual world,” he said irritably. “It’s no replacement for a social life.”
“I can’t cope with a social life,” she replied. “I have never been more sure of anything.” She got up and bent to kiss his forehead. “Leave me to my prudish pursuits. I’ll make you an apple pie.”
“Bribery.”
She laughed. “Bribery.”
* * *
GABRIEL WAS AT the feed store the next Friday when Wolf Patterson
