My Name is Nell. Laura Abbot

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СКАЧАТЬ thoughts were shattered when she picked up the phone. “Mom.” Abby’s voice was a harsh whisper. “I hate it here. Do I hafta stay?”

      THAT AFTERNOON Brady explored the secluded neighborhoods clinging to the sides of the steep hills rimming Fayetteville, drove north on I-540, astonished at the amount of commercial development, then ended up at a marina on Beaver Lake, where moored boats of all kinds rocked with the gentle swells. As a businessman, he recognized he’d stumbled into an investor’s paradise in this burgeoning northwest corner of Arkansas. He left his car and walked across the boardwalk to the marina office where he rented a small pontoon boat for a couple of hours.

      Slowly edging past the buoys, he pushed the throttle forward and skimmed over the clear water, practically deserted except for a few die-hard fishermen. If this lake were in California, it would be wall-to-wall boats no matter what the day of the week or time of day. When he reached the middle of a secluded cove, he cut the motor—aware of the peaceful quality of the sudden silence.

      Finally he let his thoughts return to Nell. He had been ill-prepared for her effect on him. She was a natural with the children and there was a kind of discomfiting synchronicity in her having selected Alexander and the Dragon to read. Nicole’s favorite bedtime story. He glanced skyward, willing away the involuntary spasm of grief.

      He forced himself to think about Nell again. When she’d approached him in the library, she had seemed skittish, her hands primly folded in front of her, her gray eyes wary. Her nose, dusted lightly with freckles, and her bare red-polished toes contributed to her overall sense of vulnerability. Yet she’d dared to confront him. Admittedly his observation of her had been rather obvious. When you’ve loved and lost, doubt replaces hope, insecurity replaces confidence and you wonder who you are.

      The boat bobbed in the wake of a passing jet ski. Was she still all by herself? He knew now she had a daughter. Despite her ringless fingers, was there a Mr. Porter?

      He devoutly hoped not.

      Since Brooke and Nicole had died, he had been unable to connect with anybody—not his friends, his neighbors or his colleagues. He thought of himself as a wraith. Improbable as it seemed, though, he wanted to connect with Nell Porter.

      Switching on the key, he started the motor and made his way back across the lake. By the time he reached the dock, he’d arrived at a decision.

      Tomorrow he would look for rental property in Fayetteville. He was staying. And Nell was the reason.

      NELL WAS REDECORATING the bulletin board in the children’s area with a back-to-school motif when she became aware of a presence behind her. She finished tacking up the book cover she was working on, then turned. Hands in his pockets, Brady Logan stood there smiling a killer smile, then shrugged as if in self-defense. “I’m back.”

      “Not the proverbial bad penny, I hope,” she said, attempting a nonchalance she was far from feeling.

      “No. I have a reason for being here.”

      She needed something to occupy her hands. Selecting another cover from the stack on the table, she said, “Anything I can help you with?”

      “I certainly hope so. I’d like you to have lunch with me.”

      She’d been fully prepared to direct him to the library’s fishing collection or to locate the latest issue of Field and Stream, but lunch? The thought filled her with mild panic. No man had asked her to lunch in a very long time and certainly no one who made her hormones react in such an unseemly fashion. “I beg your pardon?”

      He nodded his head. “You heard me right. Lunch. You know, where two people look at a menu, order and have polite conversation while they eat.”

      Smiling tentatively, she said, “I know what lunch is, but let’s face it, I have no idea who you are, really.”

      “That’s why I’m inviting you to lunch—to correct that deficiency.” Before she could offer further objections, he went on. “I’m new in town. I’m looking for someone to fill me in on the local scene. I figure a librarian is the perfect resource. This would be completely aboveboard.” He drew her to the window. “It’s broad daylight, pedestrians are everywhere. We could walk to the nearest restaurant, and if you decide I’m a threat, all you have to do is call for help.” He touched her lightly on the shoulder. “But I guarantee that won’t be necessary.”

      Nell fought the temptation induced by his honeyed voice and the pressure of his hand on her shoulder. Despite herself, she recalled her reaction to her mother’s challenge the other day. Peace and quiet—or fun? This could be fun. On the other hand… “I don’t think—”

      “Don’t think, just say ‘yes.’ You do have to eat, don’t you?”

      She made the mistake, then, of looking into his eyes where she found both humor and need. “I—I suppose I could—”

      “Great.” When he smiled down at her, she couldn’t summon a single objection. “I’ll wait over in the magazine section.”

      Then he left her. She studied the book cover in her hand, trying to think what she was doing with it. Flustered, she remembered and picked up a couple of tacks. She shook her head, wondering why in the world she’d agreed to such an improbable invitation.

      Perhaps the dragon had left the bedroom and now inhabited the library.

      AS THEY SAUNTERED along Dickson Street toward the restaurant, Brady kept feeding her questions about the town, the university, the local economy. As a native, she provided a wealth of information, but it was hard to concentrate. Her unruly hair shone in the sun, and he found amusing her self-contained way of letting him know this was purely a business appointment.

      “I like what I’ve seen and what I’m hearing. I’ve decided to stick around a while.”

      “Oh?”

      “This morning I lucked into a furnished condo. A professor leaving on sabbatical had his sub-leasing deal fall through last week. I was in the right place at the right time.”

      She laughed. “You certainly were. Housing is at a premium this time of year in a university town.”

      When they reached the brew pub restaurant, he ushered her toward a corner booth. “Hungry?”

      “Starving, actually.”

      “Good.” The waiter introduced himself while he set down their water glasses. Brady noticed Nell hadn’t looked at her menu. “You already know what you want?”

      “I always have the soup-and-sandwich special, but they have great burgers here.”

      “Okay. That’s settled.” He signaled the hovering waiter and placed their order. “Now, enough about Fayetteville. Tell me about Nell Porter.”

      “I have a better idea. You’re the stranger I’m having lunch with. What about you?”

      He mentally culled the details he could bring himself to share. “I grew up in Colorado. Left home at eighteen and went to work in the software industry in California, then started my own company, which, I’m happy to say, has done extremely well. I was married for fifteen years. One daughter. They, uh…” Damn. His throat was closing down.

      “Yes?”

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