like that? The fact that he couldn’t remember told him it had been too damned long. “Well, you’re in good company. I can fix a leaky faucet, even hang some Sheetrock, but I’m engine illiterate.”
For a long second, she didn’t say anything, her blue eyes sweeping over him, studying him as intently as a prosecutor. “So, Noah McCarty, what are you running away from?”
Bam. Just like that, she’d nailed him. He let out a startled chuckle. “Am I that transparent?”
She smiled, this time a softer, shyer version. “Not really. I just put a few pieces together. The truck. The filled duffel bag in the back. The Rhode Island plates and you mentioning Maine. And…”
“And?”
“Well…you seem like a guy who’s trying to get away from something.” Her cheeks filled with crimson. “I could be totally wrong, too. I’m not exactly a social butterfly, so my person-to-person skills are a bit rusty.”
“You’re fine.” Then he scowled, mad at himself for admitting that. He’d been drawn in, even taken a half-step closer to her, to try to discover what it was about this stranger that had his heart beating faster and his brain forgetting the plan.
“I’m sorry. I tend to be blunt.”
“That’s okay. Really.” He clutched the phone tighter, the hard plastic a stab of reality. Get back to the point, McCarty. No lingering. No wondering who this woman is and why she’s living in a time warp. “Phone book? Or should I call information? Or…” He paused. He shouldn’t say it. Should simply get on his way again as fast as possible.
“What?”
He had never seen eyes quite that color before. Big and rich, filled with a hue of blue that varied as much as an ocean wave. He stopped himself, though, just before he ended his “or” with the words “room for rent.” “Uh…nothing. Just thinking about what to do with the truck.”
She pushed off from the counter and moved to straighten one of the chrome chairs, putting it back into perfect alignment with the silvery table legs. “There are plenty of auto repair shops around here, but if you want a recommendation, I’d say Larry. I’ve dealt with the same mechanic for years and I trust him. He’ll come and get your truck, fix it for a reasonable price and not put in parts you don’t need. It’s the end of the day, though, so I bet he can’t get to it until tomorrow. As for a motel—” she paused for a fraction of time “—if you want to stay here, I have that empty room.”
Room for Rent.
How easy it would be to take Victoria up on her offer. To stay here, to let the beckoning ocean outside her window wash through his exhausted muscles. But staying here meant staying with someone. Noah’s entire reason for going to Maine was to eliminate all human contact from his life.
“Thanks, but I really can’t stay.” He cocked a hip against the wall, the phone still in his hand. “I need to get up to—”
“I understand,” she cut in suddenly. “Let me get you that phone book so you can call a motel.” She headed quickly out of the room.
Charlie strolled over, plopped down beside Noah’s feet and let out a sharp bark. “I take it you like her?” he asked.
The dog only looked up at him in response, his ears perking like two equilateral triangles.
“I thought you were supposed to be so picky. Evian and Iams only.”
Charlie let out another of his wannabee barks, then laid down and started gnawing on the hem of Noah’s jeans, content as a monkey with a banana.
“We should leave,” Noah told him, raising his foot, shaking off the dog.
Undaunted, Charlie’s tiny, razor sharp teeth got back to wreaking havoc. He was, after all, a dog very used to getting his own way. Not to mention a silk-lined doggy bed—which Noah had refused to take with him. If Noah was roughing it, Charlie could damned well do the same.
The idea of roughing it didn’t seem quite so appealing now, though. Mike’s cabin was mainly used for hunting trips and weekend stays in the summer. It didn’t have electricity or running water, just a fireplace and a stack of canned goods.
Nevertheless, the cabin was ideal hermit material. The sooner Noah got there, the better. He needed some time to come up with a better plan and figure out exactly what to do about Justin.
The seconds ticked by on the black plastic cat-shaped wall clock. The faucet kept up its steady tempo. But Victoria didn’t return. She couldn’t get lost in her own house and the chances of her not knowing where the phone book was in such a tidy place were slim.
He told himself to remain exactly where he was, not to go look for her, because doing that would start the whole snowball of involvement.
Charlie paused in his denim snack and raised his head. “No,” Noah said.
The dog let out a little bark, then tugged at Noah’s pant leg. When Noah didn’t move, Charlie heaved a sigh and dropped his head onto Noah’s foot. It had all the weight of a crew sock.
“Oh, all right,” Noah muttered. “I’ll make sure she’s okay. But that doesn’t mean we’re staying.”
He disengaged himself from the stubborn Chihuahua and headed into the opposite room. Victoria could have fallen, broken a bone, hit her head. He may be keeping his distance from humans, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be relied upon for the occasional 9-1-1 event.
Yeah, right. That’s exactly why he was doing this. So he could demonstrate his CPR skills.
The thought of doing mouth-to-mouth on Victoria rippled through him. He quickly pushed it away. Jeez, five minutes after meeting a beautiful woman and he was on his way to becoming Valentino.
The living room was empty. So was the bathroom. Just past the archway connecting the living room and dining room he saw her. The shades were drawn, darkening the space into a dusky indoor twilight and giving an eerie cast to the long, narrow dining room table and the matching high-backed, claw-foot chairs. The wood floors, topped with a rectangular floral carpet. Like the rest of the house, the room was a throwback to earlier days.
Victoria had her back to him, standing beside a sideboard that took up most of the wall. A parade of family photos in silver frames sat across the top of the furniture piece. Victoria’s shoulders were hunched forward, her head down.
Oh, hell. Something softened in Noah’s heart. Try as he might to harden it again, his best intentions dissolved the second he heard a sob escape her throat. “Victoria?”
She wheeled around, at the same time swiping at her cheek. “Sorry, I…ah…I couldn’t find the phone book.”
“Listen, I’ll just—” He thumbed over his shoulder, intending to say, “leave,” but the word lodged in his throat.
“I was looking in a drawer for it, but…” Her voice trailed off, and in the final notes, he heard the one emotion he’d vowed never to come near again.
Loss.
Noah recognized it as surely as his own name. He’d seen it, in the faces of parents who’d lost
