July Thunder. Rachel Lee

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СКАЧАТЬ the vehicles. Cars eased past them, people craning their necks to look.

      Oh, God. The pit of memory yawned, opened by the familiarity of the scene. Mary leaned against the side of her car, looking down at her crumpled rear fender without seeing it. No sirens, she told herself. There were no sirens. Nobody was hurt. Nobody.

      But nightmare images hovered at the edges of her mind like the fluttering black wings of bats, waiting to pounce. She closed her eyes and bit her lip until it hurt, then tasted blood. “It was my fault,” she heard herself say hoarsely. She didn’t know whether she spoke to the memories or to the present.

      “Like hell it was,” Sam snapped.

      It was such a shock to hear the mild-mannered Sam Canfield bark that Mary was shocked out of her memories. “Sam?” she said questioningly. She didn’t know him that well; he liked to keep to himself. But she’d come to think of him as a gentle, kind man, albeit withdrawn and sorrowful.

      But Sam didn’t seem to hear her. He jabbed his finger at Jim Wysocki. “You’ve had two speeding tickets just this year. You’re hell-bent on getting yourself or somebody else killed.”

      Mary’s instinct was to protect Jim, her student, barely more than a child. “Sam, please. I did stop suddenly.”

      Sam shook his head, his gray eyes as frigid as the tundra. “If he hadn’t been following too close, he wouldn’t have rammed you. Careless driving, that’s what it was. At a higher speed, he could have killed you.”

      His gaze swung back to Jim, who had stopped protesting. The young man’s head drooped. “I’m sorry.”

      “Sorry ain’t good enough,” Sam snapped again. “Sorry isn’t going to fix Ms. McKinney’s car. Sorry wouldn’t resurrect her if you killed her.”

      Jim shrank even more, and Mary felt compelled to intervene again. “Sam…”

      He shook his head at her, silencing her. “This young fool needs to understand that a car is a deadly weapon that has to be handled with care. Maybe he doesn’t care about his own life, but he should care about other people’s.” He turned on Jim again. “How would you feel if you had to attend Ms. McKinney’s funeral in a couple of days because you were being reckless?”

      Mary knew how he would feel. Knew it like the beating of her own heart. The pit yawned beneath her feet again, and she could feel herself teetering, ready to fall over the brink.

      Struggling to hang on to the here and now, she reached out and gripped Jim’s forearm. “Listen to him, Jim,” she said hoarsely. “Before it’s too late.”

      She felt Sam’s curious gaze settle on her, as if he wondered why the change of heart, but she never took her gaze from Jim’s. It was crucial that he hear her, that he listen to her.

      Slowly the young man nodded. “I’m sorry, Ms. McKinney. Really. I was following too close. Deputy Canfield’s right. And I’ll pay to have your car fixed. Every dime, I promise.”

      Mary searched his face. Satisfied with what she read there, she let go of his arm. “Don’t give him a ticket, Sam. Please. He won’t do anything silly again.”

      “I wish I believed that,” Sam said gruffly.

      Mary looked at him, knowing she could never in a million years explain why she felt it was so important to protect Jim from the consequences of his own actions. Knowing that she must, believing the boy understood.

      “Oh, what the hell,” Sam said after a few moments. “No ticket. But I’ll tell you, boy, I’m gonna have my eye on you. If I see you doing anything the least bit reckless or stupid, I’m pulling you over. I’m gonna be on you like white on rice, you hear?”

      Jim nodded. “I hear.”

      “All right. Ms. McKinney’s going to get an estimate on her car and give it to you. See that you take care of it.”

      “I will, I swear.”

      “Get out of here.”

      Jim didn’t argue. He hurried to climb into his truck and drove away considerably more slowly than was his wont.

      “Thank you,” Mary said to Sam. Her voice sounded distant, even to her own ears.

      “You don’t look good,” Sam said. “I’m taking you home. I’ll get Taylor’s to tow your car.”

      “I need to go grocery shopping,” she protested, but the words were automatic, almost inaudible over the buzz in her ears.

      “Not in that car. Not when you’re shaking like a leaf. Let me take you home. I get off at three. I’ll take you shopping then.”

      She nodded, past arguing. The cat. The child. There was no child. But in her heart there would always be a child. Always and forever.

      “Come on,” Sam said, his voice suddenly softening. He took her arm and guided her to his cruiser.

      That was closer to her nightmare than he would ever know.

      2

      Sam was concerned about Mary McKinney. When he dropped her off at her home, she was still shaking and pale. Extreme reaction to the shock of the accident? Or something more?

      He didn’t know how to ask. There were secrets in those deep green Irish eyes of hers. As a man with secrets of his own, he figured it was better not to pry.

      Besides, he didn’t like the way he was noticing her. Damn it, he’d known the woman for years. Why was he suddenly noticing the way the sun struck fire in her red hair, or the way her green eyes seemed to be layered with both darkness and light? Worse, why was he noticing her tidy breasts and lush hips? Or the delicate shape of her ankle?

      He wasn’t ready to notice those things about a woman. He didn’t know if he would ever be ready. Or if he would ever want to be.

      But he noticed anyway. Noticed the faint scent of her perfume, a gentle hint of lilac. Noticed her delicate, pale hands with their slender fingers and short nails. Wondered if her skin was as soft as it looked.

      Wondered what it would feel like to touch her.

      Forgive me, Beth.

      But Beth wasn’t there anymore to ease his heart with a touch or a smile, and somehow that only made him feel more guilty.

      He set his jaw and walked Mary McKinney to her door. “I’ll be back a little after three to pick you up,” he said.

      Before she could say anything and he could discover the pain that lay behind her mossy-green eyes, he turned and went back to duty. The boring hours spent cruising the streets and nearby environs of Whisper Creek were a blessed escape from temptation.

      He didn’t want to be tempted. He didn’t want to be unfaithful to Beth, gone though she was, and he didn’t want to risk that kind of pain again. Two good reasons to avoid Mary McKinney.

      But the world was apparently in no mood to leave him in his icy prison. Summer heat dogged him, making him aware of the smell of the grass and the pines, СКАЧАТЬ