Bachelor in Blue Jeans

by Lauren Nichols

  Overhead, a sliver of moon bobbed in and out of the clouds, now and then shedding a little light on a landscape of tall grasses and sturdy fence posts. But for the most part, the only things penetrating the thickening fog and darkness were the van’s headlights. Kristin’s throat tightened as she drove past intersecting roads and bumped through a washboard of ruts.

  Why did she still want him so much? Why didn’t those deep down feelings of mistrust and his insane workaholic lifestyle turn her away from him? Why didn’t it send her running in the opposite direction? That’s how a smart woman would react. That’s how Rachel would react. But then, Rachel was the sensible sister. Or rather, she’d become sensible after she’d followed the man she loved to Arizona, only to have him cheat on her and marry someone else. Now caution was her middle name.

  Headlights came out of nowhere, spearing her eyes in the rearview mirror.

  Kristin’s heart vaulted into her throat. What was going on? What was happening? The vehicle raced toward her, closing the distance between them far too fast for coincidence.

  Mind spinning wildly, she floored the gas pedal. The car hugging her bumper had to have been lying in wait—parked with his lights off on one of the side roads she’d passed. This road dead-ended in a field at the edge of Etta’s property!

  Kristin flew over the road, dust billowing behind her as she slashed quick looks into the mirror—tried to identify the vehicle. The headlights nearly blinded her again. Gripping the steering wheel, she careened around a curve in the road and drove through another series of shuddering ruts.

  Daring to take her right hand from the wheel, she unlatched the storage compartment between the bucket seats and fumbled for her cell phone. But as she yanked it out, shaky fingers lost their hold, and the phone bounced to the floor on the passenger’s side. Kristin’s heart sank and her lungs threatened to shut down. She grabbed the wheel with both hands again.

  Chad’s warnings clanged in her mind as trees whizzed by her side windows.

  Dammit, Kristin, didn’t you think I’d worry if you disappeared after your shop was burned? Especially when arson was suspected?

  Was the man who’d pushed her, the man who’d burned her shop now trying to run her off the road?

  Make a list of possible suspects—anyone you think might have a grudge against you.

  A halo of light appeared in the distant fog, and Kristin’s pulse leapt. The road was ending. The mall was just ahead. People and safety were just ahead.

  A stop sign appeared. Kristin sped through it, hanging a left and fishtailing onto the paved road to race toward the ever-brightening lights ahead. Her stomach lurched as she glanced in the mirror and saw headlights again.

  “Come on, come on,” she begged, willing the van to go faster. Finally, she was at the entrance to the mall, spiking her brake and swerving into the lot. She let out a dismayed breath. A flashy red truck with an extended cab was the only vehicle there.

  Kristin hit the gas pedal again and roared toward the two young couples standing beside the truck, praying that there truly was safety in numbers. Turning the wheel hard, she squealed to a stop a few yards from the gaping teenagers, then turned, wide-eyed, to stare at the driver who’d just sailed in beside her.

  A rage she’d never felt before rose in her. Kristin unhooked her seat belt and bolted from the van. The man driving the white Blazer did the same. He looked every bit as agitated as she was.

  “Have you lost your mind?” Chad shouted, coming around the front of the SUV to meet her. He was dressed in jeans and a sport shirt, not his uniform, and he was furious.

  “Have you lost yours?” she fired back. “What were you thinking, chasing me like that? We could’ve both been killed!”

  “I wasn’t chasing you, I was trying to signal you to pull over! Didn’t you see me flicking my beams on and off?”

  “No! I was too busy trying to keep my van on the road. What were you doing out there?”

  Instead of answering, Chad turned to scowl at the teenagers clustered near the truck, their attention riveted on the argument. “Okay, break it up,” he demanded in a voice full of authority. “We have a loitering ordinance in this town. If you don’t move right now, I’ll call a patrol car and have you moved.”

  The two pretty brunettes obeyed and climbed into the back seat. The boys played it a little cooler, laughing and joking under their breaths as they took their time getting into the front and fastening their seat belts. Finally, the driver gunned the engine and slowly drove off, laughter rolling through the open windows. Kristin could feel Chad’s temper sear the air around them.

  “I was looking for you,” he said coldly, turning back to her and returning to her original question. “That’s what I was doing out there. I went to your place after I read the note you stuck in the journal. I wanted to talk to you about it. But you weren’t there.”

  “So you decided to see if I was at Zach’s? You decided to spy on me?”

  “No! I decided to track you down. There’s a big difference.”

  “You were waiting for me with your lights out on a secluded dirt road. If that’s not spying, I don’t know what is.”

  Chad took her by the shoulders, his voice dropping low and shaky as his anger melted away. “Kristin, I love you.”

  She tried to pull away. “Don’t say that.”

  “I have to. I love you, and I was afraid you might be right about this unnamed man looking for Anna Mae’s photographs. I needed to find you.”

  “Let go of me.”

  Chad stared at her for a time, his face lining in the saffron glow of the lampposts. Then, slowly, he released her along with a burdened breath. “When there was no one at Davis’s place, but his truck was there, I figured you were with him and you’d come back eventually. So, I waited.”

  “But you didn’t wait in the driveway, Chad. You waited in the dark, like a—” She couldn’t say “stalker,” but that’s what she was thinking.

  He finished her sentence, all the fight gone out of him. “I waited in the dark like a man who didn’t want to look like a complete fool in front of another man.” He touched her cheek, and though she wanted to withdraw, she didn’t. They’d been friends for too many years.

  “Kristin, what do you think is going to happen here?” he asked in a voice full of sincerity. “Do you think Davis is going to dump a thriving business in North Carolina and come back here to you? Do you think he’s going to put a ring on your finger and pledge his undying love? Buy a station wagon and put up a picket fence?”

  Chad searched her eyes. “Well, he’s had thirteen years to do it, if that’s what he wanted. And it hasn’t happened yet, has it? He hasn’t done any of those things.”

  She didn’t want to hear any more. “Good night, Chad.” Kristin opened the door to her van. He slammed it shut again.

  Her anger flared.

  “What brought him back here?” Chad asked, his patience and apologetic manner gone again. “His aunt. He came back here to help Etta Gardner sell her farm. He didn’t come back to patch things up with his high school steady. Dammit, Kristin, wake up! Do you want to be just another pretty little convenience—”

  “Stop it!”

  “—until he goes back home? Gretchen Wilder’s not available anymore. All you are to Davis is someone handy to nail when he gets horn—”

  Kristin slapped his face so hard, Chad’s head snapped back. The act was so quick, so instinctive, her mind barely had time to register her intent.

  They were both stunned.

  Seconds ticked into full moments as their shocked gazes held and Kristin’s heart sank. Dear God…she’d never struck anyone in her life. Not ever. Physical violence was repugnant to her.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

  Miserable, Chad shook his head. “Don’t apologize. I had that coming. I—I said too much. And I shouldn’t have compared you to her. Gretchen was nothing. You’re…you’re everything.”

  Regret for a friendship t
hat was now impossible to continue made her want to cry. He truly had said too much. “It’s late. We should both be getting home.”

  Chad’s gaze clung to hers for a long moment, then nodding, he opened the door for her. He waited until she was behind the wheel to speak again. “Let’s talk tomorrow about the journal. I’m off until three. I could come by in the morning with coffee and donuts.”

  Kristin shook her head. “I don’t think so. Why don’t you call me later in the day and we’ll set something up?”

  “That sounds like an appointment,” he replied quietly. “Not like two people who care about each other getting together.” When she remained silent, he sighed. “You’re not even going to make up a flimsy excuse, are you? We’re just not having breakfast.”

  “Yes.” It hurt to answer that way, but she couldn’t handle this much adoration or jealousy. He needed to look elsewhere for his happiness. If it took backing away to make him realize that, then that’s what she had to do. She knew from experience that that kind of therapy worked. It was what Zach had done to her.

  “All right,” he said, squaring his shoulders and finding his pride again. “I’ll phone you tomorrow, and we’ll keep it to police business.” He closed her door. The rest of his words were muffled, and probably not meant for her to hear. “I’ll take whatever I can get.”

  Twenty minutes later, shivering and huddled deeply into her pile robe, Kristin stood over the range, waiting for water to heat. The outside temperature was still in the high sixties, but she couldn’t get warm. Her teeth chattered and her nerve endings pulsed like live wires.

  Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome?

  No, probably nothing that exotic. But the night and its fears had come rushing back like an unwelcome party guest the second she’d hurried inside her apartment and locked the door behind her.

  It was only Chad, she kept telling herself. But if she was right about her shop fire and Anna Mae’s death, it could’ve been someone else tailing her tonight. Someone dangerous.

  The teakettle whistled shrilly. Kristin snatched it off the burner to silence it, then poured water over the chamomile leaves in the teapot she usually saved for special occasions. She needed to surround herself with pretty things tonight. Chad’s jealousy and the sorrowful way he’d told her he loved her still had her insides quaking.

  What was she going to do about him? He was her friend and devoted ally, a man who would give her the stars if it were in his power. But what he’d said and done tonight was—

  The doorbell buzzed, followed by an insistent rapping at the door. Now what?

  “Kris? Kris, open up!”

  Zach? Kristin hurried into the small foyer off her living room to peer through the fisheye on her door. Startled and relieved to see him, she unlocked the door and pulled it open.

  Before she could say a word, he was inside, shutting the door, and staring accusingly. “Don’t you return calls? I left two messages on your answering machine asking you to phone me when you got in. Didn’t you get them?”

  “No, I—” Her voice caught. “The machine’s in my room. I didn’t notice the light blinking when I was in there.” She’d been in too big a hurry to find something warm to wear. “What did you want?”

  “I was worried about you driving home in the fog. I called to make sure you were okay.” Suddenly he looked at her, really looked. He searched her face and eyes, dropped to her pile robe and the nervous hands pressing her collar to her throat.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, his brow lining.

  Kristin glanced away. “Nothing. I’m just cold.”

  “You’re cold? It must be seventy degrees. Are you sick?”

  “No.”

  “Then what’s going on?”

  She wished she knew. She was too sensible to be losing control like this. She went back to the kitchen and opened the cupboard. “Do you want a cup of tea? It’s chamomile. Some people don’t like it.”

  “I’d rather have an explanation. When you dropped me off you looked fine. Now you’re as white as a sheet.”

  She reached for another china cup. In the next second, it seemed to fly out of her hand, smashing to the floor and scattering shards everywhere.

  “Dammit, I can’t hold onto anything tonight!” she cried. “First my cell phone, now—”

  To her mortification, she began to cry.

  Swearing quietly, Zach strode into the kitchen, lifted her in his arms, then carried her to the sofa in the living room. After checking her bare feet for glass, he sank down on the cushion beside her. His face was so close, she could see every line of concern and confusion on it.

  “Kris, for the love of heaven, tell me what’s going on. What did you mean about dropping your cell phone? Who were you going to call?”

  She wiped her eyes and pulled herself together. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Dammit, Kris!”

  “Nine-one-one! I was going to call for help!”

  He looked stunned. “Why would you need—?”

  “Because I was being chased. Or rather, I thought I was being chased.”

  “By whom? Who did you think it was? Did you get a look at him? Kris?”

  Thoroughly stressed out now, she said, “Yes. I saw him, I got a look at him, and I know him. But if I tell you who it was, you have to promise not to do anything about it. I can’t handle any more craziness tonight.”

  “Who?”

  “Promise me.”

  “All right, I promise. Who was it?”

  Kristin drew a deep breath, then let it out. “Chad.”

  His reaction was exactly what she expected. “Chad was following you?”

  “He was waiting on one of the side roads near the farmhouse. He saw me take you home, and I don’t think he liked it very much.” When she told him the rest of it, his face turned to stone.

  Zach shot to his feet. “Is he working tonight? Is he at the station? Or is he hiding out in the big house his parents left him?”

  “Zach, let it go. He was jealous and upset. He didn’t mean to scare me.”

  “He didn’t mean to, but he sure as hell did, didn’t he?”

  He started for the door, but Kristin jumped up and grabbed his hand. “Don’t. I’m all right. With everything that’s happened lately, I just overreacted. I’m okay now.” And it was the truth. Telling someone, getting it all out, had been cathartic. Or maybe she was calm now because Zach was here and she felt safe. As for Chad, he’d suffered enough. “Zach, you promised me—”

  “That was before you told me what the son of a bitch did.”

  Then suddenly their history of broken trusts hung there between them. “You promised,” she said distinctly. “Can I trust you to keep your word or not?”

  Sighing, Zach nodded, his eyes still full of turmoil. Stepping closer, he smoothed his hands over the mint-green pile at her shoulders, then slid them under her thick collar to slowly massage her neck. It was all Kristin could to keep from easing into his hands.

  “You’ve certainly had your share of trouble lately,” he said, still disturbed.

  “Better days are coming. Isn’t that what people always say?”

  “They also say ‘an eye for an eye.’ Chad’s a bully and a hothead. He should’ve been arrested for what he did tonight.”

  She knew that. She also knew that talking about it anymore was pointless. It was done. It was over. She wanted to put it behind her. “Would you like that cup of tea now? Give me a minute to find my slippers and sweep up the mess I made, then I’ll—”

  “I’ll do it. Where do you keep your broom and dustpan?”

  “I can do it.”

  “No,” he repeated succinctly. “I’ll do it. Now, where do you keep them?”

  The stubbornness in his eyes told her it was useless to argue. “All right, thank you. They’re in the narrow cupboard beside the refrigerator.” She shrugged out of her robe. “I’ll be right back.”

  But as she prepared to leave, she realized that he was staring h
ard at her clothes. Heat crept into her cheeks. She hadn’t changed to a nightgown when she’d returned. She’d been shivering so hard, she’d only taken the time to pull her robe over her shorts and blouse.

  “I’m warm now,” she said weakly.

  “And I’m really sorry I made you that promise.”

  When she returned dressed in lightweight gray sweats, he’d cleaned up the mess, and two cups were sitting on her small oak table. He waited for her to sit, then took the chair across from her.

  “I’ve been thinking,” he said. A nerve still worked in his jaw.

  “About what?”

  “About you. You need to have some fun. Maybe we both do.”

  Kristin laughed shortly. “Fun? What’s that?”

  “My point exactly.” He tried to poke his thick fingers through the dainty china cup’s handle, then scowling, gave up and held it by the bowl. “I want to go on the cruise.”

  “Sure you do,” she replied dryly.

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I.” She knew how his mind worked. He was scrambling for a way to make things right; if he couldn’t work his frustrations out on Chad, he’d try to do something nice for her. But that wasn’t his job. “You weren’t interested in going before.”

  “Now I am. When I saw the boat this afternoon, it occurred to me that it might be a good time. How about it?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  For the same reason she shouldn’t have gone to North Carolina with him. They had an understanding now, and she didn’t want to confuse the issue. It was difficult enough to abide by it with him sitting so close to her. “Because I don’t want to,” she said. “And because you’re just asking me out of pity.”

  “I don’t make pity dates. Come on.”

  “I thought you wanted to finish Etta’s house and get back home.”

  “I do, and I will. But all work and no play makes Zach a dull boy.”

  A shivery warmth moved through her as she took in his dark good looks and panther grace. There wasn’t a dull bone in his long, lean body. Still, she shook her head. “You’re only asking me to go because I was upset.”