Wishes At First Light. Joanne RockЧитать онлайн книгу.
restaurant.
âSorry,â she apologized, never slowing down.
The cold wind blasted over her face, tugging strands of her hair across her cheek and drying some of the dampness from her skin.
Pausing at the porch rail, she took big, gasping breaths of air into her lungs.
She would plan a private time to speak to Clayton Travers again. She hadnât been emotionally prepared to see him this morning, and it was so early in the day she still had one foot in her unsettling dreams from the night before. But she was in Heartache to put the past to rest for good. She would see Jeremy Covington go to jail. And sheâd share with Clay the truth about the conversations sheâd thought she had with him over that summer. There was a chance sheâd only been talking to him half the time she thought she had been messaging with him.
True, it all happened a long time ago. But she owed it to herself to find out how much of that online relationship Clay had participated in over those weeks sheâd been falling for himâand how much of that time sheâd been talking to Jeremy Covington. It was just one more step in the healing, and not anything to do with the fact that Clayton Travers still made her heart skip a beat.
* * *
IT HAD BEEN a long time since a woman had run from him.
Ten years, in fact. And the last perpetrator was the same as todayâsâone Gabriella Chance.
Walking more sedately out of the Owlâs Roost, Clayton knew he was attracting stares. The people in the booths nearby were probably wondering what piece of crap man would send a woman sprinting for the door by herself. More than a little on edge by the time he made it through the exit, he was surprised to see Gabriella still on the front porch.
Her back to him, she gripped the rail so hard it made her shoulders and arms rigid. The late-autumn wind tossed a few strands of dark blond hair, her loose pants fluttering against her legs. As he neared, he could see she took deep breaths that lifted her whole chest, exhaling through her mouth like she was doing yoga breathing.
âIâm in a sticky social situation here,â he noted wryly, standing a few feet away and staring out over the parking lot the same way she was doing. âDo I give you the space you seem to crave and walk past you? Or do I stop and try to be a gentleman because you seem distressed?â
âIs it that obvious?â she asked, her voice tinged with a dry sarcasm he hadnât expected. She puffed out an audible breath.
âMy dining companions donât usually head for the exit like theyâre setting a land speed record.â He kept it light, curious as hell what was going on with her but not wanting to push. Heâd realized within seconds of seeing her again that he was still attracted. Time hadnât faded her appeal in the least.
So it bothered him even more that she hadnât wanted to linger after their shared meal.
They remained quiet for a moment as a young woman walked by, holding the arm of a stooped man shuffling a walker across the wooden plank floor.
âI think Iâm having a recurrence of panic attacks since the Covington trial starts tomorrow,â she confided once the entrance closed behind the incoming restaurant patrons. âAs much as I think seeing him go to jail will give me closure, itâs also stirring up some old fears. I didnât sleep well last night. Not well at all.â
âThat, I understand.â He moved closer without touching her, trying to offer the comfort of his presence without making her feel overwhelmed or crowded. âIâm staying in town long enough to meet with my biological father for the first time in years and itâs got me restless at night, too.â
âIs Pete still living close to Heartache?â She seemed to forget her troubles as he mentioned his own, her shoulders relaxing a bit when she turned to face him.
âI canât believe you remember my loser fatherâs name.â He shook his head, surprised she would recall ancient conversations theyâd had over the card games she insisted would help him with his math. âPete is feeling the effects of cirrhosis by now, so maybe thatâs got him sentimental that he wants to see me. But he lives just outside the town line heading toward Franklin.â
She nodded, her golden brown hair lifted by the chilly breeze. âYou know thatâs where the trial is being held? In Franklin?â
âYes. Your brother filled me in while I was keeping an eye on his fiancée. I plan to sit in during Heather Finleyâs testimony. Zach seemed to think it would give her courage to see friendly faces in the courtroom.â
Besides, he had a vested interest in seeing that bastard Covington behind bars. The sick creep had hurt the girl heâd started to care about, someone heâd wanted to know better. Gabriella had just started flirting with him, warming to the idea of seeing him, when sheâd disappeared.
While Clayton had moved on, dated plenty of other women, heâd never forgotten about her. And being in this town again had a way of bringing the past back to life.
âThatâs kind of you.â She finally looked at him, an admiring light burning in her eyes, an expression he recalled from their old conversations. When the rest of the school had been quick to look his way as a potential suspect for any misdeeds since he was the newest Hasting foster kid, and therefore âtroubled,â Gabriella had given him the benefit of the doubt.
âI want to support Sam, too. It sounds like he put his whole life on hold for a while to pursue the guy, even before he moved back here to become sheriff.â
She bit her lip, once, twice, before speaking. âHe did. And thatâs half the reason I want to be there, too. He sacrificed a lot to protect me and then, later, to find the guy who did it.â
Which brought him right back to the question heâd asked her inside the booth at the Owlâs Roost. What kind of interaction had she had with the guy online? Why hadnât she been able to identify him if heâd been stalking her even before the incident in the quarry when heâd assaulted her?
But he kept it on lockdown for now since those were the last words out of his mouth before sheâd broken out into a cold sweat. Clearly there were a lot of rough memories associated with that time. While her brother said she hadnât been sexually molested she had been assaulted.
âThen if you ever want to share a ride, let me know because Iâll be making the trip in every day.â He pointed to his motorcycle. âAlthough thatâs my only means of transportation, so if you donât like bikesââ
âReally?â She sounded intrigued. âIâve never ridden on one.â
âTheyâre great for clearing your head.â Maybe that was a little self-serving of him when sheâd admitted she was tense and had trouble sleeping. âI have an extra helmet. Itâs not glittery pink or anything, but itâs safe.â
She folded her arms, and a smile turned one corner of her lips.
âIn that case, Iâm staying in Unit 3 at the motel.â She pointed toward the shabby little set of cottages where he planned to book a room, too.
âGreat. Iâll pick you up at eight tomorrow morning.â
Just like that, the moment sent him catapulting back to the past when sheâd said she would meet him under the bleachers for a math lesson that heâd hoped would be more than just math.
Except sheâd never shown. And for reasons far more complicated and painful than his teenage mind could have imagined. Hell, teens assumed rejection was personal.
And his assumption had cost her comfort when sheâd needed him most. Damned if he would let her down again.