“Miss? More coffee, please?”
“What? Oh, sure.” After hurrying to retrieve a coffeepot, she refilled a couple’s cups. Just as she turned around, the door opened and her heart practically stopped.
Because there he was. That scary, quiet, intense, large Englisher who had given her his card the other day. The man who she’d spent too much time thinking about . . . when she wasn’t staring at his card.
Unable to stop herself, she paused to gaze at him. He was wearing a stark white T-shirt and dark jeans. A black leather jacket hung on his shoulders. He looked like he was dressed for a fine spring day instead of the middle of winter.
He also appeared just as heart-stoppingly handsome as he had been the last time he’d come in. No, that wasn’t exactly right. He seemed more attractive than he had before—because now she wasn’t afraid of him.
He had also come alone.
She swallowed, realizing that she most definitely wasn’t looking at him in fear anymore. Instead, it was true anticipation. Had he come inside to see her?
As she refilled another table’s coffee cups, she peeked at him again.
May was seating him in the back against the wall. It wasn’t technically Irene’s station, but there was no way she was going to pass up the opportunity to speak to him once more.
“I’ll take that man who just sat down, May,” she said as she returned the coffeepot to the counter.
May looked relieved. “Thanks, Irene.”
Feeling excited, she picked up a pitcher of water and approached. Then realized that he was staring at her intently.
Before she could stop herself, she was smoothing back the hair from her brow.
The man gazed at her movements. Then, just as the smallest hint of a smile teased his lips, he stilled. A second later a new, thunderous expression appeared on his face.
Concerned, Irene rushed forward. “Are you all right?” After setting the pitcher down, she ran a hand along the Formica tabletop. “Is something wrong with the table?” she asked as she inspected it for crumbs or a spill.
Instead of answering, he pressed his palm over hers. Effectively stopping her swiping motion.
Actually, effectively stopping the rest of her words. And any future ones forming in her brain. His touch didn’t hurt. Though his palm was warm and large and calloused, she knew he was taking care with her. As if she was fragile. Or as if he was worried that she would be afraid of his touch. It was all rather endearing and rather sweet. But it was confusing, too.
Feeling like every person in the restaurant was watching, she tried to tug her hand away.
He didn’t allow that to happen. “What happened to you?” he asked, his voice even rougher-sounding than usual. “Who did this?”
With her hand still held captive by his own, she looked at her dark-green dress sleeve. It seemed clean enough. So did her apron.
Try as she might, she couldn’t see anything wrong. “Who did what?”
Still holding her hand in place, West used his other hand to slide her sleeve up. “This,” he bit out.
Though she now knew what he was referring to, she followed his gaze like she, too, was making a new discovery. Under the florescent lights, her bruises shined brightly. If anything, they looked even darker than they had that morning. The skin around the marks was discolored and swollen.
Embarrassment heated her cheeks. Had all of her customers noticed the marks, too? Was that why they’d been so patient with her?
“Irene, answer me.”
But how could she? This was none of his business. She didn’t even know him. And even if she did, what could he do? No doubt he would probably tell her that she shouldn’t have stuck her head, or her arm, out where it didn’t belong.
She shook her head. When surprise flared in his expression, followed immediately by a narrowing of his eyes, she pasted a smile on her face. “Would you like some water? Or, perhaps, coffee? It’s freshly made.”
“It’s West.”
“Pardon?”
“My name’s West. I told you last time I was here. Don’t you remember?”
“I do.” Of course she did. But that didn’t mean she was going to start speaking to him so familiarly. “Would you care for water or coffee?”
His lips pursed. “All right, then.” Exhaling, he scooted out of the booth. “I guess I need to be more clear.”
“West?”
“This is what is going to happen. You and me are going to go have a talk.”
“No, I’m working.”
“That’s not an option,” he said as he removed the pitcher from her hand and set it on the table. “I’m offering to give you some privacy. Do you want to go tell your boss that you’re going to step outside, or should I tell her?”
“You can’t come in here and start ordering me around.”
“All right, then, I’ll tell her.”
And just like that, he started walking over to May.
Ack! He was going to get her fired. Feeling like everyone’s attention was on them, she scurried to his side. “West, you must stop.”
He did. Kind of. “Glad we’re making progress. Now that you’re saying my name, you can go tell your boss that you and I need to have a conversation. That it’s real important and can’t wait.”
“But—”
“Go tell your boss, Irene. I mean it.”
But, like a cantankerous child, she only glared at him.
After waiting for another couple of seconds, he nodded. Then, to her dismay, he walked toward May. Irene rushed to follow, a dozen apologies running through her head. “May, I’m sorry—”
He cut her off. “Excuse me, ma’am.”
May immediately turned to him. “Yes?”
And then, to Irene’s amazement, he spoke quietly. “I know Irene is working, but I need to speak to her outside for a few minutes. It’s important.”
May looked at her in concern. “Is everything okay, Irene?”
She knew why May asked the question. West did look pretty scary. And the impatient way he was standing next to her conveyed a lot of tension. Her boss was simply trying to figure out where that tension was coming from.
But she realized then that she wasn’t afraid of him. Instead, she just didn’t know how to handle his heavy-handed ways. “Jah. I promise that everything is fine. West is just, ah, concerned about something.”
May visibly relaxed. “If that’s the case, why don’t you clock out? You only have ten minutes left and you never took a break. You can leave for the day.”
What could she say to that? “Well, um . . .”
“That’s a great idea, isn’t it?” West interjected. He even smiled at May. “Thank you for letting me take her early.”
“Irene works so hard, it makes me happy to see that she has a good friend in you,” May replied.
They both looked at her then.
Irene looked back at them both, feeling frustrated and confused. But, goodness! Was May actually blushing? “See you soon, Irene.”
May’s smile grew wider. “Enjoy the rest of the day, dear.”
Irene stared at West again. His arms were folded across his chest. He looked immovable. Like a mini mountain right there in the middle of Bill’s Diner.
He was unexpected and harsh. She was also beginning to get the feeling that he didn’t easily take no for an answer. He could change like a chameleon and quickly gain the regard of other people.
Her mother would have called a man like him slick. Someone who was untrustworthy.
But she also had noticed something else about him, too, and that was that he didn’t seem mean. Not to her, anyway. With some surprise, Alice realized that she wasn’t worried about being alone with him again.
It was because of that that she finally looked up at him with a sheepish smile. “Let me get my things and I’ll meet you outside.”
“I’ll wait for you by the door.”
Honestly, did he have to correct everything she said? “There’s no nee
d—”
“Take your time, Irene. I got nowhere else to be.”
Irene felt her pulse race, just from the way he was saying her name. It felt personal and tender . . . and, maybe, also intertwined with a hint of aggravation.
It should have been awkward, but all it really did was make a lump form in her throat. Maybe it was because everyone always assumed she was fine. No one expected much from her. Not anymore.
Looking down at her feet, she forced herself to come to terms with that.
And the knowledge that she’d begun to think she didn’t deserve anything more, either. That was why she was having such a hard time accepting his concern or allowing herself to become emotional about the bruises. She’d learned that expressing her anger or fear or pain didn’t change the fact that she was a lot of people’s afterthought.
May chuckled, bringing her back to the present. “He’s a fine-looking man, ain’t he?”
Embarrassed, especially since she couldn’t disagree, Irene hurried to the back area where her personal items were neatly kept in a wooden cubby.
West Powers might not mind waiting to talk to her again, but she didn’t want to wait another minute.
Chapter 16
Tuesday, February 20
Standing just outside the diner’s entrance, West was struggling. Not wanting to frighten Irene’s boss, he’d made sure to keep his expression easy. But now that he was away from the crowd, he was fuming. There was no doubt in his mind that he looked like it, too.
He had to get himself under control before Irene came outside to meet him. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten her. He would never harm her. Of course he wouldn’t. But she didn’t know him well enough to realize that his anger was directed at someone else.
Counting to thirty, he clenched and relaxed his hands several times in an effort to remove some of the tension that had taken over his muscles when he’d first seen Irene’s bruises. His reaction—and the way he was choosing to deal with it—was unusual.
Okay, it was more than that. It was completely out of character.
West was thirty-three years old, the Kings’ leader, running a number of profitable businesses. Some were legal but most were not. He was hard. He’d learned from an early age that being soft and showing weakness only brought pain. His mother had made sure to teach him that lesson over and over again.
He was also smart. West could read people and was able to look beyond someone’s appearance to ascertain what their motivation was. That God-given trait was what had led him to come out to see Cal in Horse Cave in the first place. There was something about Cal that didn’t ring true, and he’d wanted to know what it was.
When West first saw him on the porch, the puzzle about him made more sense. Cal might have said he had cut ties with his family and community, but it was obvious that he hadn’t done that entirely. Smith was amused, too, seeing Cal standing so properly on the front porch of a girl’s home. Likely, an Amish girl.
West had felt nothing but relief. He already knew he could trust Cal, that he wasn’t hiding secrets or being deceitful to the Kings. Instead, Cal was attempting to come to terms with his past . . . and, perhaps, figure out how a girl fit into his present life.
That was something that West could understand and relate to.
That relief had been all he’d been thinking about when he and Smith had stopped at Bill’s Diner about two weeks before.
And then he’d met Irene.
He’d been instantly attracted to her. Attraction to a pretty girl wasn’t anything new. But the feelings and thoughts he’d been having about her were unlike anything he’d experienced before. It was like he was seeing a woman in a whole new way for the very first time. He wasn’t looking at her in terms of her assets. Actually, he wasn’t even giving much attention to her figure or her features, other than having a general impression that she was well put together.
No, it was something else. A quietness about her that filled some of the gaps in his soul. And the fact that she was struggling to do a good job. Her little waitressing job meant something to her.
He’d spent the weeks doing his best to forget her. He was glad that he’d given her his card with his phone number on it. If she needed him, he would be there. But other than that? Well, he didn’t need a soul to tell him that the two of them needed to stay far apart from each other.
But he hadn’t been able to do that. Last night, when one of the girls in the clubhouse just about offered herself to him, he found himself comparing her to Irene. It wasn’t fair to either of the women, and he ended up leaving the clubhouse early, seeking the solace of his empty house. He was hoping being alone would give him some insight as to why he was so infatuated with an Amish server in a Kentucky diner. But no answers came. Instead, he tossed and turned all night.
All that was why he decided to come back. By morning, he thought he had turned in his effort to remove her from his head, and wanted to prove to himself that this was so.
But now, instead of that, here he was trying to convince himself not to beat up the man that had hurt her.
“I’m so sorry you had to wait,” she said as she rushed through the door. “I . . . well, I decided to get cleaned up.”
Irene’s face was still damp. No makeup, nothing artificial on her pretty face. Only bright eyes and perfect skin looking soft to the touch. He knew he shouldn’t notice either.
He pushed off from the side of the building that he’d been leaning up against. “I told you that I didn’t mind waiting. I meant it.”
Relief settled in her gaze before tension flared there again. “I don’t understand why you wanted to see me in the first place.”
Oh, Irene knew exactly why he did. But if she wanted to play it that way, he could do that, too. “I only wanted to talk to you. That’s all.” West searched her expression and was relieved to see that she still didn’t seem apprehensive around him. “Where can we go to talk privately?”
“I don’t know where you would like to go.”
Unable to help himself, he rubbed her upper arm. “It’s sunny out, but not right here in the shade. We should go someplace else. Will you get in my truck? Would you trust me enough to do that?” A mini war waged inside of him. He wanted her to trust him enough to get in his truck, but the other part of him was wanting to call out warnings to her. She should know better than to get in a truck with a man like him.
“I don’t know . . .” she said hesitantly.
“I’m real proud of you, Irene. You’re right not to accept right away. But think about it, I came here to where you work. Your boss knows you’re with me. I’m not sneaking around.”
Some of the wariness in her gaze disappeared. “You’re right.”
“I passed a hiking trail about two miles back. Do you know of it? Maybe we could go for a walk?” He was so glad that he had come by himself. There wasn’t a soul in the Kings who would have recognized him making an offer like that.
He wouldn’t blame them, either. He had never asked a woman to go for a walk with him in his life.
“Oh! That’s Widow’s Trail. It’s a pretty place. Real peaceful, too. There’s a pond there that we used to skate on.”
He couldn’t resist smiling at that. She went walking on trails and hung out around ponds when she was feeling stressed. It was so clean. So opposite of how every other man or woman he knew handled things. “So, are we good? Will you come with me? I know it’s cold, but the sun is out.”
“I won’t be too cold.”
Since she still didn’t move, he kept talking. “I won’t keep you long. Then, after, I’ll drive you home.”
After a few seconds—which felt like an eternity—she replied. “Jah, West. I’ll come with you.”
“Jah?”
“That means yes. In Pennsylvania Dutch.”
“You know two languages? When did you learn that? In high school?”
“No, I learned that first.” Smiling softly, she added, “All of us Amish learn to spea
k Deutsch before English. We start learning English when we go to school.”
“Looks like I’ve got a lot to learn about you. Come on, then. Let’s get going.”
After taking care to stay by her side but not touch her, he opened the door to his truck and helped her inside. Then he got in his own side and drove to the trail he’d mentioned. It had a blue Kentucky sign next to it, signifying that it was a scenic viewpoint. A historical marker, too, which probably had something to do with its name. A lot of people would probably take the time to read about it.
He couldn’t care less, he just wanted to be someplace where she wouldn’t be afraid to walk with him and they could have the privacy he wanted.
After they got out of his truck, he stuffed his keys in his front pocket, ignored his ringing cell phone, and let her lead the way down a grassy field toward the trailhead.
The ground was neatly raked and taken care of. Though he saw two other vehicles in the paved lot, there was no sign of any people. They were far enough from the road that even the noise from passing cars was muted. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so apart from the rest of the world. His gun was in his truck’s glove box. He felt vulnerable without it, but he hadn’t wanted to scare her by pulling it out.
“I haven’t been here in months,” she said as they started down the trail.
“Because it’s been too cold?”
“Yes, but for other reasons, too.” After peeking up at him, she continued. “Once, when I was very young, my mother would take me on a picnic here.” Looking sheepish, she added, “Later on I came out here with my friends when we were teenagers.”
The right thing to do would be to let her ramble on about the trail and her family. He was even interested in her stories. He wanted to know more about her. About who she’d hung out with. Shoot, he even cared if she’d come here with some Amish boy. He had a feeling he was going to be interested in pretty much anything she wanted to tell him.
His Risk Page 11
