Chris shook his head.
Brittany glanced at Dan, who gave her another of those puzzling nods. “I used to be scared, too,” Brittany said. “Then I—”
“I’m not scared of some dumb old roller coaster!” Chris denied hotly.
“Then c’mon!” Brittany was fairly dancing in place. “We’re going to lose our place!”
She pivoted on one of her dainty feet and dashed away. Chris hesitated for a second, then ran after her. Brittany turned, smiling and backpedaling while he caught up to her.
“I bet you scream,” she said.
Jill couldn’t hear her brother’s answer. Chris’s vigorous head shake, however, spoke volumes. So did Dan’s wide grin.
She narrowed her eyes. “What is going on, Dan?”
“Your brother just agreed to ride the roller coaster.” Smugness practically oozed from him.
“No. I meant what’s going on with you and that sweet little Brittany? I swear, it looked like you were egging her on.”
“You noticed that, huh?” He seemed proud of himself. “Once she remembered what she was supposed to say, she was a good little actress. I’d say she earned her five bucks.”
“Why, Dan Maguire.” Jill balanced one hand on her hip while the full extent of his plan struck her. “Are you saying you paid for a child to embarrass Chris into riding the roller coaster?”
“Yep,” he said, totally without shame.
Jill let the laugh she’d been holding back break forth. “How did you know it would work?”
“It’s called peer pressure,” he answered. “I have three sisters. They didn’t get paid a cent and the same thing worked on me when I was a kid.”
He related the story without a trace of self-consciousness, painting a picture of a childhood that sounded exceedingly ordinary. How she wished she could provide a fraction of that sort of normalcy for Chris. Maybe, with a little bit of help, she could.
“You are a man of hidden talents,” she remarked.
He waggled his eyebrows with comic exaggeration. “Say the word and I’ll show you more of my talents.”
She swatted at his arm, laughing. “Now you’re being silly.”
“Maybe and maybe not.” He slung an arm around her shoulders. Her pulse jumped and her senses flared. She stayed put, though. Here at an amusement park in the middle of the afternoon, she was well equipped to withstand her involuntary physical reactions to him. “I can promise you this. I won’t try anything on the roller coaster. Even I’m not that talented.”
He started walking her in the direction of the ride. She craned her neck to look up at him. It wasn’t fair, but the man was even good-looking from this angle. “I don’t remember saying I’d go on the Wildcat with you.”
“What are you? Scared?” His eyes danced.
“Bring it on, mister!” she said. “But don’t you dare tell me not to scream. That’s part of the fun.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He winked. “You can grab my knee if you want, though.”
“You wish,” she said.
“That’s right,” he said good-naturedly. “I do.”
As it turned out, she grabbed the handlebars. They were too far back in line to take the same coaster train as the rest of their group. Somehow they wound up in the last car, which seemed to fly off the tracks at every wild turn and stomach-plunging dip.
Jill was breathless and laughing when they exited the ride. Chris ran up to them, his thin chest puffed up. “Did you see me! I didn’t even scream!”
“Of course you didn’t.” Dan clapped the boy on his shoulder. “Your sister, on the other hand, sounded like a fire alarm.”
“Roller coasters scare girls,” Chris said knowingly. “Brittany screamed, too.”
“Hey! Like I told Dan, screaming’s part of the fun. There’s no shame in it,” Jill said. “Half the guys on our coaster were shrieking. Why, I even think I heard a yowl from—”
“Shhh.” Dan placed two fingers over her lips before she could fill in his name. “I can’t let you ruin my macho image.”
The ability to speak momentarily left her, but she did manage to roll her eyes.
Chris wasn’t listening, anyway. He was halfway between them and the other children. Brittany was the only one paying attention to him.
“We’re going on the Lightning Racers next!” she called, then skipped along with the large group of boys.
Chris followed, but at a distance. Small steps, Jill told herself. She counted it as a triumph that he was no longer plastered to her side.
“The Lightning Racers are dueling roller coasters,” Dan explained. “You race to see who finishes first.”
Both the Wildcat and the Lightning Racers were in a section of the park known as the midway. They hurried to keep up with the children, walking past a Ferris wheel and a steel coaster called the Wild Mouse. Dan explained that the allure of the Wild Mouse was the illusion the four-passenger car would fall off the track.
“How do you know so much about the coasters here?” she asked. “Have you been to this park before?”
“Nope, but Stanley has. He’s a roller-coaster nut. He’s been talking about this trip for weeks. Notice we didn’t visit the chocolate factory. Not Stanley’s priority.”
The older vet was indeed leading the group, sort of resembling an aging Pied Piper in baggy madras shorts and a T-shirt. Once they reached the surprisingly short line at the Lightning Racers, Stanley organized their group into teams. He instructed half of them to ride the Lightning Red coaster and half the Thunder Green.
Jill and Dan wound up in a middle car of the red coaster. Chris, again paired with Brittany, settled in directly across from them in the green coaster.
“Thunder rules!”
“Lightning’s faster!”
“You’re going down!”
The 4-H’ers shouted rallying cries as the coasters sat idle on the track. Jill noticed that Chris, although silent, was smiling.
“Get ready to eat our wind!” Dan yelled just as the coasters took off.
“Good one!” Jill told him before the wind in her face robbed her of speech.
The coasters raced around the side-by-side tracks, affording glimpses of the riders in the other cars between plunges and hairpin turns.
Jill let her screams rip. At the end of the ride, when the green racer won by the narrowest of margins, she was surprised to find herself clutching Dan’s arm, her face buried in his shoulder.
She let go of him. “Sorry.”
“That’s okay.” His teeth flashed. “You’re cute when you’re afraid.”
Stanley and the 4-H’ers didn’t hesitate when they got off the ride, circling back around and getting in line again. Jill and Dan followed the group, walking alongside two of the other chaperones, both mothers wearing fanny packs and sensible sneakers.
“I could use something to drink,” Jill remarked through a suddenly parched throat.
“Go ahead and take a break.” Liz Waverly, Brittany’s mother, made the offer. “Chris is your brother, right? I’ll keep an eye on him. You can catch up to us later.”
“Why, thanks,” Jill said. “Are you sure it’s not too much trouble?”
“Absolutely sure,” Liz said, “so go enjoy each other when you have the chance.”
“Enjoy each other?” Jill repeated a moment later. They were headed for a slushie stand they’d passed when they’d first arrived on their mad dash to the Wildcat. “That was a strange choice of words.”
“Not really,” Dan said. “Liz probably thinks we’re a couple.”
Jill was afraid of that. “We should tell her we’re just friends.”
“So I won you over, did I?” He slung an arm around her shoulders. She willed herself to breathe and not to read too much into the friendly gesture. “I remember when you said it wouldn’t be smart for us to be friends. You said Penelope would never accept that was all there was between us.”
Judging by the warmth rapidly spreading through
her body, it still wasn’t smart. These past few weeks, though, she’d discovered that some things were worth the risk.
A friendship with Dan was one of them.
“No way am I admitting you won me over,” she said. “I don’t want you getting a big head.”
He threw his very nicely proportioned head back and laughed.
The day passed quickly, with the children clamoring to stay until the park closed at ten o’clock. Stanley gave in—not that it took much persuading.
By the time the bus was thirty minutes into the trip back to Indigo Springs, most of the children and some of the adult chaperones were asleep.
“Even Gigantor looks tired,” Jill whispered to Dan from her seat next to him in the back of the bus. Across the aisle the enormous stuffed teddy bear he’d won on the midway had a seat to himself.
“Gigantor had it easy,” Dan said. “I carried him all over the park.”
“Thanks again for winning him for me,” Jill said.
“Don’t mention it,” he said. “I knew if I threw enough darts, odds were some of them would hit a balloon.”
“You spent more money to win that bear than it would have cost to buy a new one.”
“Probably,” he said, “but it gave me the opportunity to impress you with my mad dart-throwing skills.”
She giggled, then leaned her head against the seat and turned. She liked the way the ends of his black hair curled and the way his long, straight nose, strong chin and full mouth looked in profile. “Just in case you haven’t realized it, I had a wonderful day. Thank you.”
“I didn’t do much,” he said.
“You arranged for Chris and me to go on this trip. If not for you, my little brother might have grown into an old man who’d never ridden a roller coaster.”
He smiled lazily. This late in the day, his skin showed the barest hint of stubble, somehow making him even better looking. “If not for Brittany, you mean.”
She nodded to indicate a seat three rows in front of them where Chris and Brittany sat side by side. After going on the Wildcat together, they’d partnered up on every ride.
Judging by the slightly slumped position of Chris’s body, he appeared to be asleep. Even awake, he didn’t have much to say to Brittany. Most likely they’d gravitated to each other because none of the other children showed any interest in riding with them.
“I’m glad Chris had Brittany to hang out with today,” Jill said. “I can’t see them becoming close friends, though.”
“Me, either,” Dan said. “But it’s a start. Come fall, Chris might be more open to joining 4-H.”
“We can only hope,” Jill said, hearing the wistful note in her voice.
“That sounds like you’ve changed your mind about moving.”
She hadn’t thought about relocating at all recently. After more than a year in hiding, she’d concluded she couldn’t spend every minute looking over her shoulder. Today she hadn’t once considered somebody at the amusement park might be tailing her and Chris. Neither, however, could she pretend she was free to lead a normal life.
“The move’s still in the cards, but it’s on hold.” She changed the subject before he could comment. “Is everyone on this bus asleep except us?”
“I hear some murmuring in the front of the bus,” he said, “and I’m pretty sure the bus driver’s awake.”
She smiled. “I’m sort of sleepy, too.”
“You work too much.” He smoothed a lock of her hair back from her face. A shiver danced through her. “It can’t be good for you to burn the candle at both ends.”
“Thanks, Dad,” she teased, partly to hide how good it felt to have someone worry about her for a change.
Now that she’d admitted to her fatigue, she had a hard time keeping her eyes open. Her head lolled. She straightened it.
“Go ahead,” he invited. “Lean on me.”
Probably all sorts of reasons existed why she shouldn’t accept his offer. She admitted she was too tired to figure out what they were. Sighing, she surrendered to temptation and rested her head against his shoulder. Immediately she was enveloped by his scent and a sense of peace.
She snuggled against him and closed her eyes. She imagined she felt a kiss against her hair but she could have been dreaming, so quickly did she sink into sleep.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“YOU’RE COMING BY the house tonight to see Tinkerbell and Bluebell, right?” Dan walked through the back corridors of the vet’s office with Chris Jacobi. It was nearly six o’clock, closing time.
The boy shook his head, which came as a surprise. Chris had begun volunteering at the office once a week, but religiously visited the goats twice daily.
“Mrs. Feldman is having some dumb old card game tonight,” Chris said. “Jill is making me go out for pizza with Lindsey and her mom and dad.”
That explained the message Jill had left for Dan earlier today that the Whitmores would pick up Chris.
“That sounds awful!” Dan ruffled the boy’s soft, curly hair. “I can’t believe you have to eat pizza!”
Chris seemed confused. “You don’t like pizza?”
“It was a joke, buddy.” The young boy was entirely too serious. “Of course I like pizza. Why don’t you want to go?”
He thrust out his lower lip. “I want to see Tinkerbell and Bluebell.”
“You see them every night.”
“They like me.”
“Lindsey and her parents like you, too,” Dan said just as they reached the waiting area. Lindsey was the only occupant. She jumped to her feet, looking young and breezy in a pale blue sundress. A smile wreathed her pretty face.
“Hi, Dr. Maguire,” she said, and he returned the greeting. She switched her attention to Chris. “Ready to go, Chris? My mom and dad are saving a table. The place is already packed.”
“Be sure to eat an extra piece for me,” Dan said.
Despite the grousing he’d done to Dan, Chris followed Lindsey obediently. The door opened before they reached it, admitting a familiar tall, gray-haired gentleman wearing a neon-orange shirt.
“Hi, Mayor Bradford.” Lindsey beamed at him. “Love the shirt!”
“It is nice, isn’t it?” Charlie Bradford looked down at himself and brushed at some imaginary pieces of lint. “Would you believe my wife wants me to get rid of it?”
“I know clothes, and that’s a keeper,” Lindsey said, her grin growing.
“My sentiments exactly!” Charlie said.
“See you, Mayor.” Lindsey moved past him, with Chris silently trailing.
“I can’t get used to being called that,” Charlie told Dan as he walked deeper into the office, shaking his head. “I never counted on becoming a politician.”
“You’re a good one,” Dan said, then grinned. “Or so Stanley is fond of telling me.”
Charlie laughed. “I got that old coot fooled. Is he done cleaning Sweet Thing’s teeth yet?”
Sweet Thing was Charlie and Teresa Bradford’s dog, who made up in temperament what she lacked in looks. Part pug and part something unidentifiable, the much-loved dog proved that beauty was overrated.
“Just finished,” Dan said.
“I’ll go on back, then.” Charlie headed toward the exam rooms, then hesitated. “Hey, wasn’t that Jill Jacobi’s little brother with Lindsey?”
“Yeah,” Dan said. “He’s been helping around the office. Cleaning the cages, sweeping the floor, that kind of stuff.”
“You don’t say.” Charlie stroked his chin. “How well do you know his sister?”
Not nearly as well as he’d like to, Dan thought.
“Jill and I are friends,” Dan said.
“Friends?” Stanley interjected. Dan hadn’t heard the other vet come up behind him. He was cradling Sweet Thing in his arms, his face more pinched than the dog’s. “You didn’t give me the impression friendship was what you were after. You change your mind or what?”
He hadn’t. With each passing day, he became more sure of
his feelings for Jill. He just hadn’t expected anyone to ask him to explain himself.
“Give the kid time, Stanley,” Charlie interjected, coming forward and taking his dog from his friend’s arms. “There’s a lot to be said for relationships that begin as friendships. That’s how Teresa and I started out.”
“Thank you, Charlie,” Dan said.
“Don’t mention it,” he said, “especially since I’m about to ask for a favor. Have you heard of the Poconos Challenge?”
When Dan shook his head, the mayor explained it was an inaugural mountain bike race that would take place in the fall.
“There will be overnight stops in selected Pocono towns,” Charlie said. “It’ll be great for tourism. That’s why I want Indigo Springs to be one of the stops.”
“I don’t see how I can help you,” Dan said.
“Oh. I see what’s coming,” Stanley said. “Charlie’s office has been working up a proposal and he’s trying to talk your friend into submitting it.”
“We’ll have the best chance of success if a mountain biker presents the proposal, not to mention helps with the route options. Jill’s the logical choice,” Charlie said. “I’ve been working on her for two or three weeks with no luck. Now you, on the other hand, she might find harder to resist.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” Dan thought she’d been doing a pretty good job of remaining immune to his supposed charm.
“It’s worth a shot,” Charlie said. “Stanley and I are going over to the Blue Haven tonight so I can have another go at her. We’d love to have you join us.”
“Even if I believe that Jill should be allowed to make up her own mind about submitting the proposal?” Dan asked.
“That’s the thing,” Charlie said. “She had a blast working on the spring festival. She told me to come to her if I needed help on anything else. It beats me why she keeps saying no. So what do you say?”
Dan hesitated. Given Jill’s passion for mountain biking and the fact that she used to manage a bicycle shop, it did seem odd that she hadn’t embraced the assignment.
“Come on,” Charlie pleaded. “I’m the mayor. I’m supposed to have heightened powers of persuasion. It’ll look bad if I can’t even talk a guy into coming to a bar.”
That Runaway Summer Page 11
