“Time for what? For his colleagues to further misappropriate funds? I waited and waited to see what he’d do. But when he sat on it for weeks...”
“It took Patrick over a year to find another job. Did you know that? No one would trust him enough to hire him after you wrecked his reputation. He could have gone to jail.”
A shaft of cold pierced through her, more chilling than the snow she’d stepped through with sandaled feet. “But he didn’t.”
“No thanks to you.”
“I did the right thing.”
“Keep telling yourself that, Macy.”
She strengthened her grip on the purse in her lap. “I’m a journalist. What we’re called to share with the public doesn’t always make us feel great.”
“Called to share? Or share because it grabs the headlines? Gets picked up by a news wire service and blasted across the country with your byline? Your blog may not be a front-page newspaper story, but it’s still read all over the country. All I’m asking, Macy, is out of respect for me and a town I’ve come to care for that you’ll give me your word not to cross any lines.”
She didn’t expect to unearth any shattering news in this tiny, off-the-beaten-path burg. But in principle, she couldn’t promise to willingly suppress anything the public had a legitimate right to know. “Our definitions of what constitutes line-crossing conflict, so please don’t ask me to do that.”
His firm jaw clenched. “I see.”
But he didn’t. He never had. If she could go back in time, maybe she’d handle the situation differently. Or maybe she wouldn’t. Shady dealings deserved to be exposed. She still believed in the freedom of the press. Still had an instinctive hunger for searching out “the rest of the story” even though she now covered human interest ones rather than the investigative sort. And she still knew that a man who couldn’t wholeheartedly support her career choice wasn’t the man for her. Hadn’t that been what her mother drilled in to her time and time again? Mom should know, if anyone did.
“You’re not to tell anyone we knew each other previously,” he continued. “Understand?”
Not a request, a demand, reinforcing what he’d already made clear—he didn’t want to be associated with her. She could only nod her response, also preferring no one knew she shared a past with this hard-hearted, mulish man.
Jake abruptly slowed the vehicle and swung wide onto the snow-covered, graveled shoulder. For a moment she feared he intended to stop and press his point. But instead, brows lowered, he made a tight U-turn and drove back to town in silence.
ISBN: 9781460318980
Copyright © 2013 by Ruth M. Blodgett
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com
Falling for the Lawman Page 21
