I freeze, not having the faintest clue to any story I could spin him right now that isn’t the truth.
In my note I only mentioned I’d be gone for a day or two, not saying who I’d gone with or even where.
It’s totally out of character for me, I usually tell my Dad everything and he’s more worried because of it, I can tell.
“I just had to get away for a few days, Dad,” I tell him truthfully. “At home alone in that big old house after so long being away, with you not there…”
Dad moans quietly, I don’t mean to make him feel guilty.
“I just got back honey, and after Sheriff Brodie called last night, once he saw you were missing.”
Missing?
“What do you mean, Dad. Missing?” I ask, feeling my stomach drop. Noah glances over too.
“They got the other two, but I was so worried, Brodie thought that-”
“Here, gimme that,” Noah says in his best deep voice, easing the phone out of my hand as I make a stifled cry of protest.
“Mr. Holding? Noah Templeton, I spoke to you-”
I can hear my Dad shrieking in horror as Noah has to take the phone away from his ear for a second.
“Wh- What do you want?” Dad asks, sounding more desperate by the second.
Noah frowns, looking over to me to make me feel better by winking, but it’s only making it worse.
“Uh… Well to talk, man to man. It’s about your daughter, Mr. Holding. Thing is, I kinda- huh? What’s that? You’re breaking up. Now, Mr. Holding, there’s no need to raise your voice…”
I can hear my Dad chittering like a monkey. And there is some static on the line which sees Noah screwing up his face.
“Gotta bad connection,” he whispers over to me, a matter of fact, scrunching up his nose again apologetically.
“Listen, Padre? I’ll have to call you back. Right now, I have everything I want with Faith here, and I just wanted to let you know she’s safe and well. I’ll talk to you later about the uh, finer details… hullo? Hell-”
He shrugs at me, passing the phone back as I sink into my seat.
“Not great reception out here, I’m afraid. I’ll call him later, have a pow-wow, man to man,” Noah says absently to himself.
Nervously, I power down my phone, not wanting any sort of trace or whatever they call it.
From what I just heard Noah tell my Dad, and knowing my Dad… plus the recent news stories, I can only guess that Dad and Sheriff Brodie have assumed I’ve been kidnapped by the third and still at large bandit.
The bandit they think is Noah Templeton.
I shiver in my seat, feeling like I’m about to be sick.
“You alright?” Noah asks innocently, clapping my leg with his huge hand, and squeezing it.
“It’ll be fine, Faith. Your Dad will come around, you’ll see.”
It all clicks in my mind.
Noah’s no bandit, it’s all just a simple but now extremely complicated misunderstanding.
I left home with Noah and because of what else has happened, plus Sheriff Brodie, my Dad assumes Noah is bandit number three, kidnapping his daughter and promising to call him later with the demands.
My head starts to spin with the concept, and then starts to pivot again as I look behind us every thirty seconds, eyeing every car that passes us.
“I think it’s best if I just come straight out with it, Faith. With your Dad, I mean. No point beating around the bush. I mean, him being a man of God and all, I figure he’d appreciate the straight-up truth, what do you say?” he asks.
But I can only squirm in my seat some more, feeling the blood drain from my face as I look out the window.
“It’ll be just fine, Honey. You’ll see,” he comforts me again.
For the next few miles I sit silently until Noah actually starts to whistle, he’s that pleased with how he thinks things are going.
I can’t stand it a minute longer.
I have to tell him.
After asking Noah just now if there’s anything else he wants to tell me, it would look pretty stupid of me to even begin to try and explain what I think’s actually happening on my Dad’s end.
In the outside world, which I feel like could implode on us at any minute, driving around in Noah’s truck after staying at a hotel he’s just used his real name at too.
“Now, sweetie, you were asking me?” he says, feeling my mind with his.
I shift in my seat uneasily, only asking once Noah prompts me with his eyes before focusing on the road again.
“Is Noah Templeton your real name?” I ask, feeling silly but figuring it’s a question that’s a lot easier to answer than the million others I have right now.
Noah looks serious for a moment, creasing his mouth, and then studies me carefully in the rearview.
“Well, you may as well know it isn’t,” he says, sending a shockwave of surprise through me.
I thought a simple question might get me off the hook, not make things worse between us.
“I mean, it is, but it isn’t,” he adds cryptically.
I gulp loudly, wanting all this to be over so we can just go back to what we had at the hotel.
Noah and me, nothing and nobody else’s business.
Not meaning to I groan quietly.
“My middle name is Noah. I made it my first when I was a kid,” he says sheepishly, embarrassed. “Templeton was the name on my birth certificate, so I stuck with that too.”
I feel a sly grin of relief spread across my face.
“What’s your first name then, your real first name?” I ask, feeling better already.
“Not telling,” he says firmly, clamping his lips shut and shaking his head roughly.
I feel my fingers creeping over to him, walking up his side and then tickling under his ribs, amazed again at just how muscular the man is all over.
Every single inch is pure muscle.
He flinches, but only for a second and we both burst out laughing.
Real laughter, the kind I’ve never had with anyone else. I don’t need to know his first name, Noah is who he’ll always be to me anyhow.
“You really wanna know?” he asks, baiting me with his grin now, his eyes wide and wild.
I can’t help but laugh louder.
“No! No don’t tell me,” I squeal. “I don’t want to know, it must be terrible if you’re acting so crazy over it.”
“It’s… It’s…” he teases me, threatening to blurt it out.
“No, don’t!” I shout, gripping his arm. “Save it until we getting married!”
We both go quiet and I stop laughing, feeling my face go redder than a beet as I look quickly out the window.
It’s a long time before I can even move my head again, and Noah being Noah, he doesn’t say a word about it.
He lets it go and we drive on in silence.
I half expect him to tell me after a while, but he only cocks his brow once I finally have the courage to look him in the eye, almost like he’s challenging me with my marriage comment.
We drive in silence for a while longer.
“Cletus?” I offer.
“Nope,” he says, deadpan without even looking at me.
“Baxter!” I yelp, almost wishing he’d just tell me already.
“Uh uh,” he says deliberately, with another firm shake of his head, fishing a toothpick from the console and sucking it between his teeth.
“William? Oxford? Fortescue?” I exclaim, grabbing any name I can from my mind, as long as it sounds ridiculous.
But Noah only shakes his head, grinning.
“Guess you’ll have to wait,” he says, knowing he’s silencing me.
Knowing I can’t wait for him to tell me.
Knowing I have the idea of marriage planted firmly in my brain.
We drive on for a little longer.
“Do you really want to know?” he asks, looking over to me as I hesitate a second before shaking my head again.
“Not un
til you want to tell me,” I confess, and I grimace at the thought. Wondering just how long he’ll hold this one thing over me.
“When we’re married then,” he says in a soothing tone, patting my leg and winking at me again. Leaving it, it seems all up to me as I groan aloud once more.
Throwing my head back against the cushioned seat, I can only sigh contentedly again. The thought of actually marrying Noah, guaranteeing every day of our lives together, gives me such a quiet thrill I literally do forget about everything else for quite a while.
He hasn’t actually proposed though. He does sound like he’s joking with me about his middle name, so who knows.
But, the very idea of it.
Mrs. Faith Holding-Templeton.
I smile to myself, allowed to have more than the fantasy now. The man himself is right next to me.
And I’m all his.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Noah
It’s good to see Faith smile, laugh for a change. She’s been so on edge and I know it’s not from worrying if my name’s real or not.
Something’s got her spooked, she damn near faded away when I spoke to her Dad on the phone, and that guy definitely sounded like he had something on his mind other than his daughter taking off for a couple of days.
“We can go straight through to Shreveport,” I suggest, noting her mood lifting since I not so delicately hinted at marriage.
I never thought she’d be interested in that, but I feel a certain thrill in my chest when I notice her looking clucky at the idea.
This is working out better than I’d planned. She’s the perfect girl, mine now and she’s not only up for the idea of a family; she’s smitten at the suggestion of actually tying the knot too.
I don’t know what I did to deserve her, but I’m thanking my lucky stars right now.
It’s like I’ve woken her from a daydream, and she thinks for a moment before nodding in agreement.
“Unless you wanna stop for anything, we can probably make it in time for an early dinner,” I muse aloud, eyeballing her and noticing that worried look starting to take her over again.
A highway patrol car passes us from the opposite direction, and one following from behind suddenly speeds up, overtaking us and flashing its lights when it gets ahead of us.
I slow down, but he really takes off.
A lot of cops all of a sudden.
“You know Faith,” I start, motioning for her to slide on over closer. I like driving with her right next to me much better than having her all the way over there.
“I’m thinking, not to put you on the spot or anything… but how about, once I make my little delivery, we take off for good. You and me.”
Her eyes widen as she looks up at me, almost pleased at first, but then there’s that look again as her eyes turn to the front and look ahead down the highway.
“I don’t mean marriage,” I chuckle.
Not yet, anyway.
“I mean, well… how would you feel about moving in with me? We could just see how it goes at first. No pressure,” I finally manage to stammer, realizing how nervous I am, my hands starting to feel wet on top of the wheel.
“Move in?” Faith asks awkwardly, looking away.
I feel my chest start to hurt, the thrill I had when half-mentioning marriage got a better reaction.
“But I… I don’t even know where you live, Noah,” she says finally, giving me a silent question in her eyes.
Or your real name…
I’m starting to notice a pattern, every time I mention commitment of any kind, even if it; stopping somewhere or moving in, she freezes up.
Also, anytime she sees a cop she starts to look more than worried.
It’s like she’s terrified of them for some reason.
It could also have something to do with me being so secretive about the case, but I already covered that with her, I thought. Once we get to Shreveport, it’ll all make sense. I’ll be done and we’ll have the whole world to ourselves.
We’ll have each other all to ourselves if she’ll only let me.
“We can get a place,” I start to explain, reminding myself that for now my home is a truck and the apartment back in West Virginia isn’t much bigger.
Certainly not somewhere I’d think would be fitting for Faith.
Her brow creases. Its commitment again or is it something else. I need to know, so I just ask her point-blank.
“Is it commitment Faith? Is it being with me that bothers you, or is it something else?”
I only glance down at her, trying hard to keep my eyes on the road.
This isn’t a conversation I wanted to have while driving.
“You know that’s not it, Noah,” she says suddenly. “I love you… I just-”
“Then say you’ll move in with me, say we can start looking for a place as soon as I’ve done what I have to,” I tell her.
“You don’t want to live at home forever, do you? I don’t have the house just now, but I can afford it. I’ve lived pretty simply for a long time, banked all my money… you won’t want for anything, I promise,” I continue, feeling my own excitement rising again, feeling positive.
Her mouth’s open, like she wants to answer and I can see her eyes lighting up.
“Oh, just say you will tell me you’ll at least give it a try,” I tell her firmly, not wanting to even think of no as an answer.
“Of course I will,” she says finally, squeezing my arm with both of hers and hugging me tightly. Making me swerve as I drift into the oncoming lane for a second.
“Oops,” I laugh loudly, straightening the truck up.
“Why don’t you start looking for a place, on your phone, anywhere you want is fine with me,” I tell her, feeling her tense up under me.
“Anywhere?” she asks. “What about your work?”
I chuckle to myself again, figuring maybe Faith can know just a little more about me than she already does, the only secret that holds me, for now, is in that damned suitcase.
“I have my own business, Faith. A long time ago, I got my pilot’s license. Then, after the Air Force wouldn’t have me, I leased a little crop-duster and started doing my own thing,” I tell her, feeling my years as I recall just how long ago that was.
Probably before she was even born.
“Nowadays, I have my own fleet of planes I lease out, have arrangements with some pretty big companies too, and have plenty of guys and gals to do all the actual work. I just oversee it, something I can do from anywhere Faith. Anywhere in the world, really. We don’t have to limit ourselves to-”
“So you’re a pilot?” she asks, not meaning to but cutting me off.
“I guess I still am, but I mainly just oversee the business,” I tell her, watching her face relax and her body melt into mine again.
“You’re, pretty well off then?” she asks, looking up, looking quite serious.
“I guess I am,” I tell her, a little taken aback but having to smile.
“I might not look it, I guess, driving around in a beat-up old truck in jeans and boots, but yeah. I’ve done alright. I can provide for both of us… and a few more,” I add cheekily, grinning to myself at the idea.
Hoping she wants a big place, like her Dad’s, so we can fill it up with our own family.
But not next door to her Dad. Nothing like that.
Although, a place with a big tree in the yard would be nice. I kinda have a thing for that now.
I urge Faith again to start looking some stuff up on her phone, it might help us pass the time on the remainder of the drive.
Whenever I look at her, feeling her nuzzled up against me, I can’t help but think of a thousand ways to slow us both down by stopping and having repeats of what we did in the hotel.
“Uh, I think my phone died,” she says, slipping it into her pocket.
“Gimme that,” I tell her, powering it up and noticing it has an almost full charge.
“Here. Get to work, Detective Holding. See if you
can’t find a place you think we’ll both fall in love with,” I prompt her, trying to ignore that look she has again.
It’s like every time she’s about to get happy, to let go and start to enjoy herself, she gets that darned look in her eyes.
Once we get to Shreveport, I tell myself.
I’ll get to the bottom of whatever it is that’s bugging her. I have to, for both our sakes.
She creases her mouth and sighs, setting to work on search engines for real estate.
“Any preference?” she asks, “I mean, do you want to live in Alaska or Alabama? Figure I’d start with the A’s,” she says with a cocking of her brow.
“I could use less sticky weather myself, but it’s up to you honey. Whatever you want,” I tell her, putting my arm around her as I notice she sets her phone to mute while she starts to bring up potential real estate sites.
A whole line of blue and red lights up ahead, getting closer a lot quicker than I’m moving towards them.
I figure it must be a dozen patrol cars, all speeding in the opposite direction.
Once they start to pass us Faith looks up, gasping loudly and clutching at my arm.
“All right,” I announce to her. I’ve had enough of this. “Just what is it with you and patrol cars, Faith? I can’t help noticing every time we see one you jump out of your skin. Now, tell me you’re not on the run. Tell me you haven’t done away with your Daddy and are only using me as an escape plan.”
I’m joking, of course. But I do mean it about her reaction to the police.
Her eyes narrow on mine in the rearview, anger flashes across them, reflecting the fading blue and reds of the law’s convoy passing us.
And then they mist up, she’s crying again. And I feel like the worst man in the world.
I’m trying to make this all so special, but it seems like once a day I’m making her cry for all the wrong reasons.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Faith
I don’t think I’ve ever been on a bigger emotional rollercoaster than the past two days.
Not even since my first few days at college, which took their toll.
I said I’d trust Noah, and I do. But I can’t take it a minute longer.
Preacher's Daughter: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance Page 9
