Shades of the Wolf. Karen Whiddon
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From the tight set of Captain Harper’s jaw, he wasn’t happy at all about her proclamation, but he nodded. “I’ll see what I can find out.”
“You do that.” With that, she turned to go.
Following her out the door, Tyler marveled at the powerful energy radiating from her. How was it possible she didn’t realize her own strength? It wasn’t. Therefore, he had to believe she simply didn’t want him to know.
She sailed through the outer room and past the startled receptionist without a word. Outside, she rushed over to her little car, opening the door and climbing inside.
Only once she was there did Tyler realize her hands were shaking too hard to fit the key in the ignition.
“Deep breaths,” he told her as he folded himself up into the small passenger seat. He wasn’t sure what he could do to help. “Do you want to talk about it?” In his admittedly limited experience, most women welcomed the opportunity to discuss their feelings.
But Anabel was not most women. “No,” she said, averting her profile. “I’m fine.” A moment later, she managed to start the car and put it in Drive.
“What was that, back there?”
Not looking at him, she lifted one delicate shoulder in a shrug. “I already told you, people in this town think I’m crazy.”
“But you didn’t tell me why.”
She shot him a sideways glance, her eyes shuttered. “Does it really matter?”
“I guess not. But I’d still like to know.”
“I talk to ghosts. Think about it.”
He couldn’t help laughing at the sour note in her voice. “They see you walking around talking to air. Is that what you’re telling me?”
“Exactly. And I dress the part. Plus, I did something I shouldn’t have and almost cost a really sweet woman her life. I don’t think anyone will ever forgive me for that.”
Thus the captain’s reference to the McGraws. He, like just about everyone in Leaning Tree, knew the family. Since they’d declined to press charges, whatever Anabel had done couldn’t have been too bad. Tyler wondered if he should ask, but the raw agony in her expression made him decide not to. Whatever she’d done, it seemed clear she felt bad about that now.
Neither spoke as she drove slowly down Main Street. He took his time admiring the huge leafy oak and maple trees, the restored old buildings and the bustling shops. “It still looks the same,” he mused. “I see the small Dutch Reform church is now fully restored. And the shops and restaurants appear to be doing a booming business.”
“We get a lot more tourists than we used to,” she grudgingly admitted. “It’s really busy in the fall when all the city people take drives to see the foliage.” Again she looked sideways at him, almost as if it hurt her eyes to meet his gaze dead-on.
“I remember,” he said.
“How long have you been gone from here, anyway?”
“That’s a good question.” He tried to calculate, failing miserably.
“A reply like that means you aren’t really going to answer.”
He laughed. “Give me a minute. I’m trying. Like I said, time passes differently in the hereafter.”
“What’s the last year you remember? Let’s start with your last tour of duty in Afghanistan.”
Flashes of light, an explosion, red and yellow and orange. Screams of pain. Wincing, he tried to block the random sights and sounds from his memory.
When he finally found his voice again, he sounded hoarse. “Not there. Too intense. Let’s start with something better, more pleasant.”
“Okay. When did you graduate from high school?”
Now, that he could answer. “Nineteen ninety-seven.” Thinking about that, he couldn’t help smiling. “Leaning Tree High. Did you go there?”
“I did, but I graduated in 2001. I was just starting high school the year you finished.”
“Which would explain why we never met,” he said.
“How do you know we didn’t?” Though her question was casual, for some reason it sent a chill up his spine.
He decided to keep his answer light. “Because I’d remember.” The rest of it, what he didn’t say, was that she, with her long midnight hair and exotic bronze eyes, was the loveliest woman he’d ever seen. He had to believe his younger self would have recognized that too, even back then.
Apparently oblivious of his chaotic thoughts, Anabel continued to question him. “And then after high school, what did you do? Did you enlist right away?”
His head had begun to hurt. “My turn. I get to ask you something next.”
“Really? I had no idea we were playing some sort of game.” Since her dry tone contained a thread of amusement, he decided to take that as encouragement.
“What did you do after high school?” he asked.
“I went to college. Columbia, to be exact. Three months in, I loved life and the city. Then I met David Lee. From Tennessee. He was in New York on leave.”
Though he hated the dark sadness that crept over her lovely face, he wanted to know more. Before he could speak, she forestalled him by making a chopping motion with her hand.
“My turn,” she said, earning a reluctant smile from him.
“Go ahead.”
“Remember, we’re trying to get a rough idea of how long you’ve been a ghost,” she said.
Though he didn’t know why that mattered, he decided to play along. “Okay.”
“When did you enlist?”
He sighed. “About two months after graduating from high school.”
“No college?”
“Nope. Not only did I not have the money or the grades, but I didn’t have the inclination. I was working a dead-end job, learning how to do bodywork at a Chevy dealership. I woke up one morning, decided I wanted to be a soldier and drove to the army recruiter’s office.”
“And then—”
“My turn.” He softened his tone to lessen the sting. “How long were you married?”
“Nope,” she said, turning