was blindsided by his kindness, his goodness. Do you know what you’ve done?
In less than eight hours big, beard-shadowed Jon Tucker had Emily smiling. Giggling. Laughing. Emily who never tittered with a grown man. Duane had seen to that. “Can’t you read yet, Emily Rose? Can’t you add? Come on, get with the program.”
Rianne shuddered. Why hadn’t she left years ago? Because you were afraid. Afraid you’d lose custody of the kids.
No matter. She should have found the fortitude, the courage. For Em and Sam she should have—
Jon cupped her elbow with a work-roughened palm. “Rianne?”
“I can manage the step, thank you.”
“Hurry, Mom. I’m starving.”
“Hang on, short stuff. Your mom doesn’t want to rip her stockings getting in.”
“I can manage,” Rianne repeated and held his gaze until he stepped back.
Another quick, silent trip home. Jon pulled in behind her Toyota. Rianne and Emily climbed from the truck.
“’Bye, Mr. Tucker.” Her daughter ambled toward the backyard, book pack swinging from her skinny little arm.
“See you, Bo Peep.” Shoving the sunglasses onto his head, he slammed the truck’s door, then came around to Rianne, scowling.
Now what? His moods changed quick as the weather.
She said, “Bill Martins at the Garage Center said you were responsible for fixing my battery. Thank you. And for the rides.”
“That why you were ticked at the school? Because I fixed your car?”
“No.” She wasn’t about to explain Duane. “It’s been a long day, that’s all.” She dug into her purse, began writing out a check on the hood of the truck.
“What’re you doing?”
“Paying you what I would’ve paid Bill.”
Her heart fluttered when he snatched the pen out of her hand. “Forget the damned money. I didn’t do it for a reward. The battery was one I had lying around.”
Slowly, carefully, Rianne turned. “If you won’t take payment for the battery I still owe you the cost of installing it.”
“I don’t want your money, Rianne.”
For a long moment his eyes pinned her. Her heart thumped like a drum. She took back the pen. “How much?”
“Two hundred dollars.”
She choked. “Two hundred—”
Not a muscle moved in his hard face. “Take it or leave it.”
She studied her car. A used base model, bought the year she married Duane, the year she’d had Sam. Dented, decrepit, dying.
Jon remained motionless, thumbs hooked in his front pockets, feet planted. Let your eyes warm a little. Just a tad, like they did with Emily. They continued their cool scrutiny.
“Fine,” she snapped. “Two hundred.”
Where she’d get the money, she didn’t know. But she would. As sure as God made apples and pears, she would prove to Jon Tucker and every man like him that she could navigate life’s bites with the best of them.
Finished, she held out the check.
Without a glance, he stashed it in a pocket. Tilting up her chin with a knuckle, he said, “There’s nothing wrong with being a woman, Rianne. Remember that next time a man wants to help you into a vehicle.”
They’d never been this close, inches close. Black rings surrounded his irises, pools of wishes and dreams and fantasies into which she could dip her heart.
Her mouth moved, as if to speak, as if to—
He strode to the driver’s door and leapt into the cab. Full-throttle, the truck backed out of the lane. He didn’t go home. Instead, he gunned it all the way down the street.
She didn’t move. Couldn’t.
Around her silence dropped like a shackle.
Chapter Four
After school, Sam headed for the bike racks at the east door of Misty River High. Unlocking the safety chain from the front tire of his Schwinn, he contemplated asking Joey to sleep over Friday night. With a couple of sleeping bags downstairs, they could watch videos, eat popcorn, talk girls.
Ashley Lorenzo was kind of pretty. He’d caught her looking at him a few times. Once, in study hall, she had even given him a smile. And she never looked at his hand.
Pulling his bike from its stall, Sam saw his friend walk through the doors. “Hey, Joe-man. You riding today?”
“Nah. Bikes’re for little snots.”
“You rode yesterday,” Sam pointed out.
“Yeah, well, yesterday’s history. ’Sides, walking’s better. You get to talk to girls.”
Sam considered that. Across the street he saw Ashley, bag on her shoulder, strolling off with a couple other junior-high girls. Tomorrow he’d leave his bike at home.
“Wanna double anyway?” Sam asked.
Joey debated. Shrugging, he ambled over and perched himself between the handlebars.
Sam peddled out of the school yard. It was tricky balancing a guy twenty pounds heavier on the bike, but Sam wanted muscles and muscles came when you worked up a sweat. “Got much homework?” he asked, peering around Joey’s sturdy frame.
“Nah.”
“Want to do something after?”
“Dunno.”
They were coming up to the intersection leading away from school property. Sam brought the bike to a crawl, checking both ways before striking off across the pavement.
“Hey, Joe!” a thick voice called.
“Code-myster. What’s up, man?” Joey jumped from the handlebars, forcing Sam to stop midway in the street. Cody Huller swaggered up with Mick Lessing. Sam avoided both boys when possible.
A car, waiting for them to cross, honked at the idle group.
“Yeah, yeah,” Huller grumbled with an arrogant glance. “Don’t get your tail in a knot.”
A woman poked her head from the driver’s window. “Come on, you guys, I’m late for an appointment.”
“Hey!” Huller barked. “Chill, okay? This is a school zone.” He ducked his head and flung out his arms in a sarcastic winging of the entire surroundings. With a salute Sam wouldn’t have dared
