Rainbow's End. Irene Hannon

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СКАЧАТЬ Now, after thirty minutes of snail-paced, white-knuckle driving, he figured he must be getting close. Although his stomach was rumbling, his sandwich lay uneaten on the seat beside him. Navigating the pitch-dark road required his full attention. More so as he approached his destination, when the pavement narrowed and the center line disappeared.

      The woman at the store had said to watch for a blue mailbox with a sign underneath that said Rainbow’s End. Up to this point, he’d seen very few mailboxes—and none that matched the woman’s description. Of course, he might have missed it. His headlights could barely illuminate the deserted road, let alone pick out the occasional side road that branched off. And he wasn’t about to retrace his steps. Worst case, he’d ease onto the shoulder—if he could find one—recline his seat, and catch what sleep he could right there. In some ways, that might be preferable to staying in some hermit’s cottage, anyway. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more appealing…

      All at once, a small deer darted in front of the car, no more than a flash across his headlights. Shocked, Keith slammed on the brakes and yanked the wheel to the left, skidding to a stop at the edge of the pavement, mere inches above the flooded ravine that ran alongside the road. As he stared at the turbulent, dark water, waiting for the pounding of his heart to subside, he drew a shaky breath. Talk about close calls. He might not be all that excited about life anymore, but he sure didn’t want his to end in a drainage ditch.

      When at last his pulse slowed and he raised his head, his eyes widened in surprise. A few feet in front of him was a washed-out blue mailbox and a chipped, peeling sign. Though the letters were faded, the words were discernable: Rainbow’s End. If his headlights hadn’t been angled in this exact direction, he’d have missed it.

      Once upon a time, Keith would have attributed such a coincidence to Providence. Now, he just considered it good luck. Or perhaps bad, depending on what he found at the end of the rutted gravel lane beside the mailbox, he amended. But he was bone-weary. And at least the steep, tiny byway that wound up into the woods held out the hope of shelter from the storm. At this point, he didn’t even care about eccentric widows, stray cats or old newspapers. All he cared about was a protected place to wait out the storm.

      He just hoped it was dry.

      At first, Jill didn’t notice the thumping sound that blended in with the unremitting rumble of the thunder. But when thumping turned to pounding, she realized that there was a person on the other side of her front door. An impatient person, if the increasingly aggressive banging was any indication.

      Considering her scarcity of visitors, Jill could only stare at the door, dumbfounded. Madeleine from the art gallery had stopped by two weeks before, but no one had set foot on her property since. Unless you counted the little boy earlier today. But he hardly qualified as a visitor, considering he’d stayed on the perimeter of her land and avoided contact. Unlike the person on the other side of her door, who was making it clear that contact was his or her precise intent.

      Another crash of thunder boomed through the dark house, and Jill jerked, sending a beam from the flashlight in her hand bouncing off the opposite wall. Without electricity, the warm, comforting home she’d created was dim and shadowy. She’d put a battery-operated torch on the kitchen table, and another on the table at the base of the stairs. But they didn’t provide enough light to dispel the gloom, or make her feel very secure.

      This sense of edginess, of unease, was new. Despite her isolated location, she’d never worried about her safety. Not once in her two years on the island. Then again, she’d never had a visitor at night in the middle of a raging storm. But her caller was knocking, she reminded herself. People who were up to no good wouldn’t announce their presence.

      Her concern abating, Jill walked to the door, pausing to peer through the sheer curtains that hung at the window beside it. The visitor standing on the porch was hidden from her view, but she could see the blurred outlines of a car pulled up beside the steps. As she reached for the lock, she tried to think of some reason why anyone in their right mind would drive all the way out to her place in this kind of weather. When she couldn’t come up with even one, her hand faltered.

      All at once the pounding started again. “Hey, if you can hear me in there, please answer the door!”

      A man’s voice. An irritated man’s voice. Jill’s hand fell to her side and she took a quick step back. Perhaps she should just ignore him. If she didn’t respond, he’d assume no one was home and go away, wouldn’t he? Then she’d be safe. Holding her breath, she leaned closer, listening for evidence of retreat.

      Instead, as the silence lengthened, she heard a heavy sigh of frustration—audible even over the sounds of the storm.

      “Look, a woman at the grocery store in Eastsound said you might have a cabin I could rent for the night,” the man called out. “She tried to phone, but your line is out. I really need a place to stay.”

      This time, Jill heard the weariness in his voice. The I’ve-had-about-all-I-can-take-before-I-fold tone. Only someone who’d been there would discern it beneath the thick coating of frustration.

      Closing her eyes, she sent a plea heavenward. Lord, my heart tells me to help this man. He sounds like he’s in need of kindness. Please keep me safe as I follow the example of the Good Samaritan.

      With sudden resolve, Jill tucked the flashlight under her arm and flipped back the dead bolt. But she kept the chain in place, cracking the door no more than the sturdy links would allow. Since the man on the other side was in shadows, she aimed the flashlight at his face.

      Muttering something she couldn’t make out, he threw up his hands to deflect the intense beam of light. “Could you lower that a little? Try aiming at my chest.” His tone was gruff, but he sounded more relieved than angry.

      A flush rose on Jill’s cheeks as she complied with the stranger’s request. “Sorry.”

      A couple of beats ticked by before he moved his hands aside, as if he was afraid she might pin him with the light again. Then he stared back at her with wary, watchful, cobalt-blue eyes that seemed as uncertain about her as she was about him.

      And that was plenty uncertain. Because once Jill got past his eyes, the rest of him scared her to death. Even in daylight, the man on the other side of the door would have made her nervous. His shaggy dark hair was damp and disheveled, and the stubble on his jaw was so thick she wondered if he was just unkempt—or trying to grow a beard. A leather jacket that had logged more than its share of miles sat on his broad, powerful shoulders, gapping open to reveal a chest-hugging T-shirt.

      An alarm went off in her mind, and she reduced the crack in the door by the barest margin. But the man noticed. His eyes narrowed, and for a moment Jill was afraid he might try to force his way inside. Her grip tightened on the handle as she prepared to slam the door if he made one wrong move.

      The tension emanating from the woman in the house was palpable, and Keith knew he had but a few heartbeats to put her at ease before she shut the door—and left him to face the raging storm with nothing but his car for shelter. Not an appealing prospect. Not when he was this close to a real roof and a dry bed. Yet he couldn’t fault her caution—or her alarm. Considering her remote location, she was wise to be careful with strangers. And he didn’t exactly look like the boy next door.

      As for what she looked like—he had no idea. Although his eyes were starting to return to normal after being seared by that blinding light, all he could see through the thin crack in the door was a shadowy form. Not that her appearance mattered. The important thing was that she was his ticket to shelter…if he played his cards right. Hoping that she wasn’t too spooked by his appearance to listen to СКАЧАТЬ