love to see the station sometime.”
“Sure.”
“Do you do all that PR stuff, like visiting the school and teaching fire safety classes and reminding people about their smoke detectors?”
“We do.” He enjoyed interacting with his community, always had. “I like visiting the school the most.” He slanted her a look. “That is, as long as no one is chucking.”
She laughed—and damn it, he liked it. Her laugh could make him forget about the smell of toddler throw-up.
When he went to exit the airport lot, she scrambled for her purse. “I’ve got it.”
“No worries.” He had the ticket and bills already handy, and reached out the window to give both to the woman staffing the payment booth.
The woman peered in the car, gave Zoey an odd look and lifted the gate for them to leave.
Groaning, Zoey sat stiff and straight in the seat. “What must she think?”
“You’ll never see her again. Don’t worry about it.”
“This is awful.” She held out her shirt, touched her hair. “I’m trying not to get your truck too messy.”
“It’ll wash.”
“I’ll pay you to have it done. And for the parking fee, too.”
“Zoey?”
She bit her lip again. “Hmm?”
“It’s not a big deal.”
“Ha!” Her eyes widened over her own telling reaction.
“So it is a big deal?” Because she’d had a crush on him? Or maybe because she was still interested?
“No. Not at all.”
He wasn’t buying it. “Just take a breath and relax.”
In a rush, she launched into more conversation. “So are your kids just incredibly healthy or do you not have any?”
“No kids.” He steered onto the highway and headed home.
“Married?”
“Nope.” He glanced her way, but didn’t see a ring on her finger. “You?”
“God, no.”
Such a heartfelt denial made him frown. Seven years ago, after she broke things off with her boyfriend, Gus Donahue, Gus had left in a rage.
Then crashed his car and died, leaving his parents with two children instead of three, robbing them of their firstborn.
For too many people, she’d been the undeserving girl, while Gus had been the all-star golden boy. He’d been viewed as perfect.
She was not.
The blame and accusations had rolled in, spurred on by the Donahues, unrelentingly cruel until, finally, she’d moved away to escape it.
Never had Garrett blamed her, but even long after Zoey had left, Gus’s sister, Carrie, had done what she could to keep fueling the fire. And Cody, forever feeding the stories, had grown into a very angry sixteen-year-old, always acting out, probably doing what he could to overcome the distance of his parents’ grief.
Garrett didn’t want to get into all that old history with her. What kind of welcome would that be? Instead he asked, “Any serious relationships?”
She shook her head. “I take it you and Carrie didn’t make it?”
Gently, assuming it had to still be a touchy topic for her, he said, “That was...what? Six years ago? Seven?”
Her expression turned quizzical. “Since I left, yes. That’s when you and Carrie broke up?”
“Shortly thereafter.” He couldn’t abide the way Carrie and her family reviled Zoey. They’d taken every opportunity to run her into the ground. He’d understood their grief, and he’d also understood what a hothead Gus had been.
Most of all he’d understood that the Donahues had two children left who needed their attention.
“And here everyone thought you two were the ‘it’ couple.”
“Not me.” Carrie was as popular as her older brother, and that, more than anything else, had prompted him to date her.
Yeah, he’d been young and foolish, ruled more by testosterone than discretion.
Looking out the window, Zoey changed the topic. “I need to shower and change before I see anyone.”
He was supposed to drop her off at the bookstore, but he could afford the time for a quick detour. “Where to then?”
“I don’t know.” She looked back at him. “My mom’s in the hospital.”
“I heard.” Everyone knew everyone’s business in Buckhorn, at least to some degree. “How is she?”
“She fell off her horse, broke her hip and a few ribs.”
“Ouch.” He winced in sympathy.
“The breaks are bad enough, but now she has pneumonia on top of it.”
“The immobility probably helped that along.” Garrett knew her mother had had Zoey later in life. Knowing Zoey to be around twenty-four or—five, her mom would be in her mid-sixties. “She’ll be okay?”
“Yes,” she said with absolute conviction, as if she could will it so. “But I’m not sure yet when she’ll get to come home. They already did the surgery on her hip, but she’ll go to a different floor for rehab before they release her.” She repeatedly pleated and smoothed the hem of her shirt.
“Is that where you want me to take you?”
She shook her head hard. “No, not looking like this. I don’t want to embarrass her.” Her fingers curled into a fist. “She’s been living with my uncle the last few years, but there’s no way I can go there, either.”
Her uncle had been the football coach when Gus died. Shit.
“I don’t suppose you’d loan me your shower?”
Garrett shot her a look, but she didn’t seem to think a thing of her request. Typical of Zoey. Trying not to be too obvious, he checked the clock on the console. “If we make it quick, I have enough time.”
Relief took the tension out of her shoulders. “Thank you. I promise to be as fast as I can.”
“No problem.” But damn it, when he saw Amber, he’d let her know that her debt to him had just doubled.
* * *
Never had she met a man so hard to read.
Garrett
