respect. To her complete dismay nothing changed after they were married. He still liked going out all the time, and she soon realized he lived for the good time, which for him wasn’t complete without drinking a lot.
Not until her uncle and his boss, the chief, got after him after she was pregnant did he put on the mask of being a family man. He’d privately hated that, and he had taken his frustration out on her by passing judgment on everything from how unfairly he was treated by the chief to Léa’s poor choice in friends. Oh, how she had come to dread their time behind closed doors. He spent his evenings drinking and brooding while the television blared. Not once did he take a bit of joy in the child they were expecting together. Toward the end of her pregnancy, he’d started going out again, and some nights he hadn’t come home at all.
Her ultimate humiliation had come toward the end of her pregnancy when she had found condoms in his pants pockets. When she confronted him, he turned on her, insisting they were hers, insisting that he knew she had been cheating on him from the very beginning of the marriage. At that point, they had been married not quite a year, and she had realized she didn’t know him at all. Equally horrifying was realizing his mask dropped only at home—her uncle, the other officers and their friends saw only the flirt, the affable, charming guy who went out of his way to help little old ladies and to speak at drug-awareness functions at the high school. Only Sadie had known the depth of Léa’s despair.
Ending the marriage had been the hardest choice she had ever made. As far as she was concerned, it was going to stay that way.
After she closed up the café for the day, Léa headed for the hardware store at the edge of town. While there, she sought out Scotty Frazier, part owner of the store and the town’s only locksmith, who assured her he hadn’t given Foley a key.
“If anybody got into your house,” Scotty told her, “it was probably through a window.”
“I keep them locked.”
“Locks aren’t that hard to circumvent,” Scotty said.
“Then I think I need an alarm system,” she said. “Today.”
“It will take a couple of weeks to get that scheduled and installed,” he said, going on to explain how he needed to come see exactly what she needed and then order the components. “In the meantime, there are a couple of simple things you can do.” He led the way to a rack that held a huge assortment of screws where he handed her an eyebolt about two and a half inches long. “Drill a hole on either side of the window,” he instructed, “where the part that opens connects with the stationary side. Slide in the bolt, and you have a very effective lock for your windows. Inexpensive, too.”
And within the realm of her carpentry skills, Léa thought, mentally counting the windows in her house.
She made her purchases and headed for home. She stopped at the single traffic light in town where the intersection was shared by the City Hall, the bank, the park and the Good Shepherd Community Church. Several cars were leaving the parking lot of the church. In the next instant she realized the twice-a-week AA meeting held in the church basement was letting out—knew because she had gone to meetings for a while in an attempt to persuade Foley to attend. He never had, insisting he didn’t have a problem and that he wasn’t going to be judged by anyone. The complete lack of judgment was one of the things she liked best about the people she had met there.
While she watched, Zach walked across the parking lot and turned the corner, heading in the same direction she was—presumably toward home.
Curiosity and an odd sense of relief swirled through her chest. Why should she care? When the light changed, she drove through the intersection, and when she reached him, pulled next to the curb and rolled down the window. Immediately he noticed her.
“Hey,” he said as he came toward her.
“Hi.” Léa found herself once again all too aware of Zach, her brain mush when she really wanted to be able to figure out what it was about the man that made butterflies dance in her stomach—butterflies that evidently hadn’t heard her repeatedly tell herself that she was going to be a courteous neighbor and nothing more.
“Want a ride?” she asked.
Everything feminine in her appreciated his physique. Shoulders broad enough to give the illusion he was strong enough to lean on. And his arms—if anything got to her, it was a guy’s well-defined muscular arms, and his were amazing. She had never gone for the shaved-head look, but somehow on him, it looked okay, even though she wondered what his hair would be like if it were longer.
“Sure,” he said. “Thanks.” Opening the door, he slid into the passenger seat next to her. Though a scant five hours had passed since he had left the café, he admitted to himself that he was happy to see her. Then, the red scarf had covered her hair. Without it, her hair looked silky—a rich, dark brown that gleamed with red highlights in the sunshine, cut in a simple style that skimmed her shoulders. The freckles liberally sprinkled across her nose put her in the cute category.
She had changed her clothes, and the pale blue knit shirt she wore made her eyes look even more brilliant than he’d thought them to be this morning. He imagined he could smell cinnamon or ginger, which made him think of the apples in the breakfast special. The woman was as appealing as the food she made.
As soon as they were underway, he said, “Thanks for breakfast this morning.”
“You already thanked me.” She pointed a finger at him. “Plus, you left money to pay for it. I know Kim told you it was my treat.”
“She did. At the time paying you seemed like a better idea.”
“In other words Foley was giving you a hard time.”
She was far too perceptive. Pointing at the logo for the hardware sack next to his seat, he said, “Looks like you’re working on a project.”
“I get to test my carpentry skills.”
“You’ll ace it—whatever you’re doing. The way I figure, cooking has got to be harder than building things.”
“In my case, cooking is way easier.” She tipped her head to the side. “I wasn’t sure you’d come this morning.”
“I almost didn’t.” Though he had made a pact with himself never again to hide behind the lies that had been part of his life before prison, he didn’t owe her that much information. He’d had four hours yesterday after leaving Sadie at the airport to plan how he’d like his life to go for the next year. Stay sober, even if for only one minute at a time. Find a sponsor. Work the program and trust in the Greater Power. Do the things his parole officer expected of him. Make sure he lived up to his aunt’s faith in him. Keep to himself and keep a low profile. The feelings Léa Webster aroused in him were a sure path to trouble even if her ex-husband wasn’t a cop.
“Why not?” she asked, breaking his train of thought.
He shrugged, not sure he could adequately explain. “It’s just different, that’s all. Being around other people and not having to worry about exposing your back.” That was definitely more than she needed to know. Since he’d met her ex-husband, the part about not worrying about his back wasn’t even true. So much for keeping his word to himself about telling the truth.
“I was really shy when I was a little girl,” she said, “and going into a roomful of people scared me to death.”
“You
