Wishes At First Light. Joanne RockЧитать онлайн книгу.
thought.â
Clay couldnât believe the gall of the guyâa respected man in the community, a coach on the high school football team with a kid and a wifeâto contact a local girl repeatedly, pretending to be a teenage foster kid. It made sense that Covington would have known about Clayâs fledgling relationship with Gabriella, though. Theyâd met under the bleachers during football practices.
âFor how long?â He couldnât wrap his brain around it, but he realized he should be comforting her instead of focusing on how wronged he felt. How robbed. But damn it, Clay should have been the one enjoying those conversations with her online. âI mean, how extensive were these conversations? And what did he talk to you about?â
He sat forward in his chair, too, closer to her. Belatedly, he remembered heâd brought his motorcycle jacket outside earlier and he grabbed it off the back of his chair to drape across her shoulders. The flannel he wore over a sweatshirt kept him warm enough.
âThanks.â Her eyes met his in the moonlight, clear and blue even though the darkness grayed out most colors. âThis is where things get awkward for me. I was kind of hoping when I confided this to you that you would have been on the receiving end of at least some of those messages I sent you.â
Her gaze darted away again, searching the parking lot as if sheâd rather look anywhere else. Across the lot at the diner, a couple of staffers closed the back door for the night, turning off the last of the lights in the building.
Clayâs attention returned to Gabriella. Her pink fingernails flashed along the zipper of the brown bomber jacket, tugging the leather tighter while her words sent his brain on a kind of wild ride. Just what sort of things had she believed they were saying to each other in those chats?
âI understand where that realization would be unsettling.â He nodded, starting to put the pieces together. âBut consider my side. I canât help but wonder why you were messaging with me, Gabby. I only remember a few cursory exchanges online about times we were going to meet for math tutoring when I wanted to know you so much better. I was pretty much crazy about you back then.â
She went still. Slowly, her eyes tracked back to his.
âThat helps, actually, to hear you say that. So, thank you.â She shrugged awkwardly in the big jacket, the fabric weighing down the gesture so it was just the slightest movement. âBecause our conversations were fairly flirtatious. I looked forward to those chats, because I liked you, too.â
And just like that, Gabriella Chance got under his skin all over again. Heâd pinpointed the attraction between them alive and well earlier today. But right now, with her soft confession drifting on the night breeze, and her loose ponytail sliding along the shoulder of his jacket as she looked at him with trusting eyes...
She tapped into a spot in his chest that he hadnât cracked open in a good long while.
Her cell phone vibrated on the porch rail, the light and the sound startling her. She reached for it.
âSorry to check this,â she said a little too quickly, breathlessly. She flipped over the screen, and the light illuminated her face as she scrolled the pages. âI only leave the notifications on for family and for messages from the hotline for my victimsâ support group, so it could beââ
She went silent, lips pursed as she read.
âSomething wrong?â He admired her for using her own experiences as a victim of cyber stalking to help others, even if it interrupted a conversation that had captured his undivided attention.
âThereâs a local girl Iâm planning to check on while Iâm in Heartacheâsomeone Iâve communicated with off and on over the last two years through my online group.â Gabby worked the keypad on the screen while she spoke. âIâm really worried about her. Sheâs so young and sheâs alone taking care of her dyingââ after an awkward pause, she stopped typing to peer up at Clayton, her eyes widening with what looked like a âlightbulbâ moment ââfather.â
âWhat is it?â Heâd been behind the eight ball from the beginning of this conversation, so it was no surprise heâd missed a step somewhere.
âHer father is dying of cirrhosis and he lives just over the town line. Heading toward Franklin.â She frowned. âAnd you had mentioned that Peteââ
The truth slammed into him.
âYouâre meeting my half sister Mia?â
* * *
NOT EVEN CLAYTONâS warm leather jacket could ward off the chill that his words sent skittering over Gabriellaâs skin.
Gabriella had communicated with Mia Benson for two years online. And although she hadnât built up enough trust for the girl to confide her name until a few months ago, Gabriella never had any reason to connect her to Clayton.
They didnât have the same last name, for one thing. Then again, Mia wouldnât be the first offspring that didnât share Pete Yancyâs surname.
âYou know her.â She repeated the fact only because she was still having trouble making sense of it. âSheâs your half sister?â
Clayton gave a clipped nod. âYes, sheâs my half sister, but I didnât even know about her until very recently. But why are you worried about her? Is she being bullied? You met her through that victimsâ group you run?â
He fired the questions fast. Impatiently.
âSheâs not being bullied,â Gabriella assured him honestly, although she could kick herself for mentioning anything about the girl, even if she hadnât used her name. âBut Iâm not at liberty to say anything more without her permission. I had no idea you would know her, Clay. I swear. She was in the foster system.â
And just how on earth had Mia ended up in foster care when she had an older brother who might have stepped in? Defensiveness on Miaâs behalf simmered.
Gabriella needed to call the girl back, but since Mia hadnât flagged the message as urgent, Gabriella couldnât walk away from this shocking conversation with Clayton just yet.
âI had no idea she existed until Pete told me about her two weeks ago when he called to say he didnât have long to live.â Clayton shoved out of the wooden chair heâd been seated in, edging past her on the narrow porch to stalk freely around the patch of grass in front of his motel cabin. He paced like a tigerâtrapped and not happy about it.
âIâm surprised the foster system didnâtââ
âSo am I.â Cutting her off, he swung back toward the railing between them, grabbing the wood in two hands as he leaned closer, his knuckles turning white at the tight grip. âAnd you know whatâs really messed up about that, Gabby? I made it my mission to find all my half siblings after I graduated high school. I ended up being so damn good at itâunearthing one heartbreak story after another in the form of my sad and disjointed family until I had eight of us accounted for.â
The haunted expression on his face made it clear that not all of his siblings had navigated through childhood as successfully as he had. And Gabriella remembered firsthand how rough his experience had been. Heâd told her once about getting separated from a younger brother when social services removed the boy from Clayâs fatherâs house.
âIt was good of you to look them all up. Provide a sense of family for them.â Sheâd relied on her brother so much since her father went to jail and her mother wasted away waiting for him. Her mom had moved to the tiny town in Kansas where her father sat in a federal penitentiary.
If not for Zach, Gabriella