Simple Gone South gs-3
Page 27
Once on the front porch, she spoke the first words she’d said to him in over a decade — thirteen years to be exact, almost to the day.
“Nathan, let me go!”
And for the first time in as many years, he answered her. “Townshend, you are coming with me.”
Townshend. She’d almost forgotten that he used to call her by her real name, not the baby name that four-year-old Harris had christened her with because he couldn’t say Townshend. No one, not even teachers, had ever called her anything but Tolly — no one but Nathan. He had called her that because that was how she’d introduced herself that night so long ago when she’d wanted to be daring and do something unexpected, instead of being the eternal good girl.
“Where do you think you’re taking me?” she demanded.
“I don’t think anything. I know we’re going to sit in my truck and have a little chat.” He pulled her down the steps, none too slow and none too gently. She stumbled and he caught her.
“Hey. Stilettos here,” she said through gritted teeth.
“That’ll teach you to wear shoes that won’t take you where you need to go.”
“I don’t need to go anywhere with you.”
He stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk. “The day is done when I care what you need. What you are going to do is march yourself over to my pickup truck and climb in. I’ve got some things to say to you.” He pointed down the block to where his big black truck was parked.
So, finally, after all this time. She had half expected this when he had first moved back here to replace the recently fired Merritt High head football coach. But he’d remained silent and she’d relaxed — apparently too soon.
“My car is closer,” she offered.
“So it is.” He made to move her toward his truck but she planted her feet.
She could refuse. A carload of Methodists had just pulled up and were unloading casserole dishes. Dr. Carlyle was emerging from the house. They would save her, even though she was Episcopalian. She was sure of it.
“Townshend,” Nathan said. It was only then that she noticed just how far beyond angry he was — he was shaking livid. “Get your butt down that street and into my truck or I will make a scene that will get me fired and land us both in jail. I swear I will do it.”
She believed him. And a scene was the last thing she wanted. Airing her dirty linen in public — especially this dirty linen — would be the worst thing in Bad City. If the people of Merritt found out what she’d done, what she had cost their hometown hero, life here would be over.
But why the confrontation now? Until today, he’d seemed as eager as she to keep their past a secret. And why was he, all of a sudden, so mad? He’d been mad thirteen years ago, sure. But since, there had only been cold distance. Maybe it was the ham she’d brought that set him off. Maybe he thought pot roast was a more appropriate bereavement food. That made as much sense as anything.
She let him guide her down the street. He slowed down, though whether it was in deference to her high heels or because of his bad knee, she couldn’t say.
To purchase this ebook and learn more about the author, click here.
For more Alicia Pace Hunter titles, try Sweet Gone South and Take Me Out
FB2 document info
Document ID: b036a959-74af-4ba7-98b4-8c19c68b611f
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 13.11.2013
Created using: calibre 1.10.0, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6.6 software
Document authors :
About
This file was generated by Lord KiRon's FB2EPUB converter version 1.1.5.0.
(This book might contain copyrighted material, author of the converter bears no responsibility for it's usage)
Этот файл создан при помощи конвертера FB2EPUB версии 1.1.5.0 написанного Lord KiRon.
(Эта книга может содержать материал который защищен авторским правом, автор конвертера не несет ответственности за его использование)
http://www.fb2epub.net
https://code.google.com/p/fb2epub/