She nodded at whatever Chuck replied as she twisted the telephone cord.
“I’ll let her know the minute she gets home,” Mrs. Feldman promised. “And don’t you worry about telling me her business. I couldn’t love that girl any more if she was my own.”
Mrs. Feldman finally replaced the receiver on the cradle but didn’t head back to the table. The wrinkles on her face seemed to have deepened.
“Something’s wrong,” Dan said.
She stared at him. “You care about Jill, don’t you?”
He didn’t only care about Jill, he loved her.
The thought struck him with such force it left him momentarily speechless. When, he wondered, had that happened? The answer immediately presented itself.
He’d fallen in love with Jill this past weekend. Not when she’d stripped at the waterfall but the next morning in bed when she’d finally trusted him enough to start answering his questions.
“Yes,” he said. “I care about her.”
“Then I don’t see any reason not to tell you. A man phoned the Blue Haven asking lots of questions about Jill. When her shifts were. Where she was living. Whether she had a boy with her.”
As if a siren had gone off, the warning resonating inside Dan couldn’t have been clearer.
“Chuck wouldn’t tell him anything, not even whether Jill worked there,” Mrs. Feldman continued. “He turned the tables and asked the man why he was calling. You know what the man did?”
Dan shook his head wordlessly.
“He hung up. Now, what do you make of that?”
Dan couldn’t make sense of it. He did know one thing for certain, though. The woman he’d fallen in love with was keeping something from him, maybe even something bigger than his ex-fiancée had.
“FELICIA! CHRIS! I’M HOME,” Jill called, her mind already racing ahead to her plans for the rest of the evening.
If she’d remembered her cell phone, she already would have called Dan and let him know she was available. Available. She giggled aloud at her most accurate choice of words. Where Dan Maguire was concerned, she was eminently available.
She walked over the hardwood of the foyer, the clap of her heels sounding unnaturally loud as she breathed in a scent she identified as apple pie. “Where is everybody?”
“In the kitchen,” Felicia answered, the direction Jill was headed anyway.
“Wait till you try these leftovers I brought home.” Jill talked as she walked, conscious of the seconds ticking by. The longer she lingered at home, the less time she’d have to spend with Dan. “It’s chicken penne with gorgonzola and it’s…”
She stopped short. Dan sat at the white kitchen table across from Felicia, a half-full glass of milk and an empty pie plate in front of him. With his dark hair and solid build he looked exceedingly masculine in her landlady’s frilly country kitchen, calling to mind all the questions Penelope and Sara had asked over dinner about their developing relationship.
Jill had responded to only half of them, although she’d felt herself blushing too many times to count, which her friends had taken as confirmation of a hot romance.
“Dan!” She felt her mouth stretch in a wide smile. “I was just going to call you.”
“I walked Chris home and had some pie while I waited for you,” Dan said.
Although his words were light, his expression wasn’t. Neither was Felicia’s.
“Is everything okay?” Jill asked.
“Probably.” Felicia twisted her hands as she answered. “It’s just that Chuck called from the Blue Haven.”
Jill groaned and walked to the refrigerator with the container of leftovers. “He wants me to come into work tonight, doesn’t he?”
“No, no. That’s not it,” Felicia said. “He wanted to warn you a man called the bar asking questions about you.”
Jill’s breath snagged, and her heart felt as though it ground to a sudden halt. She regarded her landlady over the kitchen counter, aware that Dan was watching her closely. “What kind of questions?”
Felicia told her, confirming Jill’s worst fears.
Her father’s private eye had found her, possibly because of her chance encounter with Sally Tomlin. The reason hardly mattered now, though.
“Did Chuck tell him anything?” Jill asked sharply. Too sharply.
“No,” Felicia said. “He wouldn’t even say whether you worked there.”
“Any idea who this guy is?” Dan asked, his gaze piercing.
She broke eye contact and opened the refrigerator door, fighting to mask her panic. The private eye knew she worked at the Blue Haven. She prayed the reason he hadn’t paid the bar a personal visit was that he wasn’t in Indigo Springs. He’d be here soon, though. It was only a matter of time until he showed up at Felicia’s house.
Jill put the container of leftovers on a refrigerator shelf, shut the door and reached for a logical explanation. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. Guys at the bar get a little too friendly all the time. It was probably one of those.”
“I don’t think so, dear.” Felicia was still wringing her hands. “Chuck said the man had a Southern accent and he didn’t recognize his voice.”
Jill mentally grasped for another reasonable story even as she processed the damning information that the caller was a Southerner. “Then it must’ve been somebody from one of my white-water trips.”
She affixed a smile to her face, trying to figure out how much longer she dared stay in Indigo Springs.
Not days, she concluded. Hours.
“You need to be careful and pay attention to what’s going on around you.” Dan’s tone was as serious as his expression.
Jill nodded, her throat thick. She was very well aware of what she had to do and how much it would hurt, not only herself but also the people she cared about.
“Where’s Chris?” Jill asked.
“In his room,” Felicia replied. “He said he was going to play video games, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s asleep. That sleepover last night tuckered him out.”
She and Chris probably couldn’t leave tonight, then. Chris was a heavy sleeper. He’d resist if she woke him in the middle of the night. He still slept with a night light, so she’d be able to pack his things, though. Then she needed to figure out where they were going.
A powerful wave of sadness washed over her. She and Chris were happy here in Indigo Springs. She didn’t want to leave her friends, Felicia and the wonderful warmth of the house that had become a home.
Most of all, she didn’t want to leave Dan.
“I’m tired, too.” She avoided looking at him, afraid she wouldn’t be able to keep the despair out of her eyes. She was about to cancel the plans they’d made to get together tonight, plans she’d never be able to reschedule. “I’m afraid it’d be best if I turned in early tonight.”
“I need to talk to you about something first,” Dan said firmly.
She disliked the note of seriousness in his voice. As much as she longed to spend more time with him, she couldn’t risk it. She swallowed.
“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” she asked, fully expecting him to comply.
“No, it can’t.” He glanced toward the staircase that led to the second floor, then quieted his voice. “It’s about Chris.”
Felicia quickly took control of the situation, whispering, “Why don’t you two go outside and talk on the porch where Chris won’t hear you?”
Jill could hardly refuse. She fruitlessly wished that circumstances were different, that she was headed outside to steal a few private moments with her lover. The air was balmy and the porch swing spoke of romance and lazy summer nights. Jill avoided the swing, taking a seat in one of the wicker chairs. Dan sat down in the chair beside hers.
“What about Chris?” She hated herself for sounding abrupt, especially when she could see he was confused by her behavior. If she lingered with him on the wraparound porch, though, the defenses she was trying hard to erect would tumble.
“He said your dad used to take him to Falcons games and they lived close enough to the stadium to take public transportation,” Dan said.
He waited, watching her carefully. She almost laughed at the irony. For years she’d been trying to get Chris to stop lying. It was the truth, however, that was causing her problems.
“I can see where that was confusing. I didn’t live with my father growing up, but my brother did. They spent years in Atlanta.” Jill hoped that was consistent with what she’d already told Dan. At this point, she was so rattled she couldn’t be sure of anything.
Dan leaned forward, balancing his forearms on his thighs, his eyes boring into her. She heard an owl hoot, cicadas sing and the creak of his wicker chair.
“That’s not all,” he said. “Chris spoke of your father as if he were alive. He said he wanted to get him a Falcons jersey for his birthday.”
She felt her palms grow damp. The cover story she’d guarded so carefully was crumbling like the topping on Felicia’s apple cake.
“That’s…troubling. I’ll have to talk to Chris about that.” Jill stood up, not able to bear discussing this with him any longer. Few things could be more painful than lying to a man she cared for so deeply. “Thanks for telling me.”
She backed toward the front door, trying to convey that she wanted him to leave. “If that’s all, I really am tired.”
The only thing that moved were the muscles in his face, which formed a frown.
“What’s going on with you, Jill?” he asked. “Things aren’t adding up. Your stories. That phone call. And now it seems like you can’t wait to get rid of me.”
She swallowed. “I told you. I’m tired.”
He shook his head. “That’s not it. We had plans for tonight. You gave the impression you were eager to be alone with me.”
She’d said more than that during phone calls since their weekend together. She said she craved him. How could she credibly explain her about-face? Her stomach cramped until she felt as if she were going to be sick, because she realized there was only one solution.
“I changed my mind.” Her voice cracked, but she forced herself to keep talking. “This is hard to say, but I don’t want to see you anymore.”
He looked as if she’d struck him. “You’re dumping me?”
“Yes.” She hated herself for sounding heartless even though it was the only way to get him to leave. She straightened her backbone and strove to make her voice more forceful. “I told you it wasn’t a good time for me to be in a relationship.”
He got to his feet, confusion stamped on his features. She doubted her ability to continue the charade if he touched her. She retreated farther, her back coming flush against the screen door.
She couldn’t let the pain she was causing him sway her. She needed to think of Chris and his safety.
“I don’t understand,” he said. “What did I do?”
“You didn’t do anything.” The backs of her eyes burned. She willed herself not to cry. “Things will never work out between us. It’s best to cut things off before we get any deeper. Can you understand that?”
He raised his chin and set his jaw, but not before she saw him flinch. The anguish that spread through her seemed to settle in her heart and fester.
“I understand perfectly,” he said gruffly.
Then he turned and walked out of her life. She watched him go, with his hands shoved into his pockets and his back ramrod straight. She had an overwhelming urge to run after him, to beg him to forgive her, to tell him how much he meant to her.
She did none of those things.
Her eyes teared up. Determinedly she blinked the moisture away and walked into the house.
She had clothes to pack—and a brother to protect.
DAN FLOPPED OVER from his back to his side and glanced at the glowing red numbers on his bedside alarm clock—5:43 a.m. After tossing and turning for much of the night, he’d managed to fall asleep after all.
One of the bedroom shades wasn’t pulled all the way down, revealing that the sky had barely begun to brighten. Now that he was awake, though, he wouldn’t be able to sleep again.
He sat up in bed. His head felt fuzzy, his eyes gritty, his mouth dry. He braced himself for the sharp disappointment that had ravaged him last night. The edges had dulled, leaving him with something resembling a hangover.
He got out of bed, then methodically went about his morning routine. Once he was in the kitchen, he switched on the overhead light, took some orange juice from the refrigerator and slugged straight from the carton.
The click of canine toenails against the hardwood floor preceded Starsky’s entrance. The dog trudged sleepily to Dan’s side, then rubbed the side of his head against Dan’s leg.
“You can tell I’m hurting, huh?” Dan reached down and scratched the dog behind his ear. “The thing is, I don’t know what went wrong.”
Hutch barked from the living room, then rushed into the kitchen, his tail wagging enthusiastically. The second dog dashed to the hook by the rear door where Dan kept the leashes, then ran back to Dan.
“A walk? Why not?” Dan had awakened early enough that he had time to kill before work, and the fresh air might clear his head even if it wouldn’t heal his heart.
The morning haze hadn’t yet worn off, causing the sky to appear indistinct. He held both leashes in one hand, letting the dogs set the pace while his mind drifted. The sun was a pale yellow blur rising above the horizon, the way it might look if viewed through a pair of glasses with the wrong prescription.
Dan’s perspective on the breakup with Jill had been similarly hazy the night before. One minute everything had seemed fine. The next she’d gone out of her way to tell him in no uncertain terms it was over.
But why?
He’d viewed the situation emotionally the night before. Now he tried to consider it dispassionately.
It still didn’t make sense.
He’d been caught unaware by Maggie, too. Yet in retrospect, Maggie had distanced herself from him with small steps. By the time she left, they hadn’t had a meaningful conversation in ages. It had been more than a month since they’d had sex.
Dan and Jill had had sex—no, made love—three days ago. He’d had every expectation they would make love again last night. Jill hadn’t grown cold until he mentioned that her brother thought their father was alive.
No, that wasn’t quite accurate. She’d started acting differently when Mrs. Feldman told her about the phone call.
Those two things must be related. But how? In retrospect he should have come out and asked Jill point-blank if her father were alive. He’d intended to, but then she’d said they were through and he’d gotten sidetracked. Had she distracted him on purpose?
Starsky barked and put on a burst of speed, running to the end of the retractable leash and pulling. Hutch followed enthusiastically so that Dan had to keep a firm hold on both leashes.
While thinking about Jill, Dan had walked in the direction of Mrs. Feldman’s house. There was little activity on the hilly block, with the cars that had been parked overnight on the street still in the same spots and the town just waking up.
He spotted a dark-haired woman up ahead, carrying something to her car. Jill. He let the dogs lead him closer, and it became clear she was toting duffel bags to a car that was already filled to overflowing. Bedding, a small television, Chris’s video game system and the giant teddy bear he’d won in Hershey already occupied the backseat.
Jill was leaving town. Not at some distant point in the future. Now.
She stood stock-still as Starsky and Hutch pranced around her, her eyes locked with his, her ready smile absent. She wore traveling clothes: worn, comfortable jeans and a sky-blue T-shirt he’d seen in one of the local gift-shop windows. The saying on it read “I heart Indigo Springs.”
“Starsky! Hutch! Sit!” His unyielding tone was one he seldom used with the dogs. They calmed down immediately.
Jill broke eye contact and proceeded to the
car, setting down the bags on the road and opening the trunk. It, too, was nearly packed.
“What’s going on, Jill?” Dan asked.
She put the bags into the trunk, then closed it. She seemed to be avoiding looking at him. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“No,” he said. “I knew you were thinking about leaving town, but you didn’t say anything about leaving today.”
“Goodbyes are hard.” She still wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I wanted to avoid them.”
None of this added up. She was part of the community, with good friends, a landlady who loved her and two jobs. Just this past weekend, she’d rejoiced that her brother was finally making friends his own age and had told the Pocono Challenge organizers she’d lead a bike ride if they chose Indigo Springs as a finalist.
“Does this have something to do with the guy who called the bar? Are you in some kind of trouble?” He posed the questions he should have asked the night before.
She finally looked at him. He thought he read despair on her face. A muscle twitched in her jaw. She opened her mouth, closed it, then said, “I need to get Chris.”
She pivoted and walked away from him, getting halfway up the sidewalk before the front door of the house opened. Mrs. Feldman emerged wearing a housecoat and slippers. Her entire face seemed to sag.
“Dan.” She perked up a little when she spotted him. “Thank goodness you’re here. I’ve been trying to get Jill to change her mind about leaving for the past hour. Have you had any luck?”
Jill didn’t give him a chance to respond. “I’m not going to change my mind, Felicia. I need to leave as soon as I get Chris.”
“I came outside to tell you about Chris.” Mrs. Feldman shuffled forward, stopping at the top of the porch. Hanging flower pots flanked her. “He just took off out the back door. He said something about saying goodbye to those goats.”
Jill’s shoulders visibly slumped. “I should have expected that.”
“He’s upset. He says he doesn’t want to leave.” Mrs. Feldman took a shuddering breath. “I don’t want you to leave either.”
That Runaway Summer Page 17
