The Hero's Sin. Darlene Gardner

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СКАЧАТЬ slapped Michael on the shoulder. “Good seeing you, man.”

      “Always,” Michael said.

      Dropping his hand, Johnny escorted his bride into the main part of the hall to a bridal table decorated with tall candles, fresh flowers and draped garlands.

      Michael surveyed the wedding guests chatting happily to one another and knew what it felt like to be alone in a crowd. Most were strangers, but he recognized some of them, none of whom he felt comfortable approaching.

      He waited a few beats, then headed for the exit and the parking lot, pretending he wasn’t in a hurry. He’d considered himself lucky to find a parking space, but a now a white van blocked his escape route. The scripted red letters on the side of the vehicle read Catering Solutions: We cook so you don’t have to. The driver’s seat was empty.

      “Damn.” There was no getting around it. He needed to re-enter the hall and locate the caterers, no matter how much it might send tongues wagging.

      Even as he lectured himself on the cold reality of his situation, he wished things were different. Wished, for instance, that the woman with the red highlights in her long brown hair was headed for him instead of the parking lot.

      He’d noticed her at the church, partly because she wore a ridiculously feminine dress with high-heeled sandals that added inches to her tall frame and showed off a killer set of legs. With a slightly long nose and a wide mouth, she wasn’t classically beautiful as much as she was damn attractive. But it wasn’t only her looks that captured his attention. It was the poise with which she moved, the intelligence in her expression that told him he’d enjoy getting to know her.

      Not that there was a chance in hell of that happening.

      Then she smiled.

      He checked behind him, but the parking lot and front sidewalk were deserted except for him. It wasn’t yet dusk so he’d clearly seen her welcoming expression.

      He expected her to keep on walking, for her smile to vanish. But it widened, reaching large eyes the same light brown as the cream soda Aunt Felicia used to buy when he was a teenager.

      When she stopped before him, there could be no mistaking it—the smile was for him.

      “You’re my hero,” she said.

      He felt the corners of his mouth drop. Was she someone from his past playing a sick joke? She was about his age. About the age Chrissy would have been had she lived. But, no. He didn’t know her. This was a woman he wouldn’t have forgotten.

      “Excuse me?” he asked.

      Admiration gleamed in her eyes, as easy to read as the red block letters on the white sign in front of the VFW hall. The members of the Veterans of Foreign Wars were heroes, not him.

      “I saw you,” she said. “At the river. When you saved that boy.”

      She didn’t know him. Didn’t know about the sin in his past. The tension slowly left him as he put together the pieces. She must have been along on the raft trip when the boy had fallen overboard into the white water.

      “You were wonderful,” she added.

      He frowned. “I didn’t do anything anyone else wouldn’t have done.”

      “Are you joking?” Her cream-soda eyes widened, disbelief touching her lips. “You rode that rapid without a raft. You could have drowned along with that boy.”

      He shifted from one foot to the other, uncomfortable with her exaggeration. He knew enough about the Lehigh to go feet-first down a rapid, which had substantially lessened the danger. “Yeah, well, both of us made it through okay.”

      She reached up and traced her fingers lightly against his temple, the gesture kindling a warmth inside him even though her touch was as soft as the brush of a feather. “Except for this nasty bump.”

      “It’s nothing,” he mumbled.

      Her fingers fell away from his temple, and he squashed a crazy desire to capture her hand and press it against his heart.

      “The boy’s parents were asking about you. They wanted to know your name so they could thank you.” Her smile grew. “I’d like to know it, too, but I should introduce myself first.” She stuck out a slim hand. Like her other, it was ringless. “Sara Brenneman. I’m new in town. Haven’t been here a week yet.”

      He folded her hand in his and again felt the warmth. The confidence he’d glimpsed in her walk was also evident in her grip. “Michael Donahue.”

      He might not have picked up on the way her body tensed if he hadn’t been shaking her hand. Modulating the pitch of his voice to disguise his disappointment, he let go of her hand. “I take it you’ve heard of me.”

      She didn’t avoid the question, which heightened his opinion of her. “I overheard some people talking about how you were back in town.”

      She didn’t recoil, so that was probably all she’d heard. For now. She’d get the rest of the story soon enough.

      The silence between them stretched a few beats, then she said, “I hope you’re back for good.”

      That would be unthinkable.

      “I’m leaving first thing tomorrow.” He didn’t tell her where he was going, but then his plan was hazy. He figured he’d head north on Highway 80 until he felt like stopping, possibly somewhere he could rent a place on a lake with access to a boat. The paperwork for his next assignment should come through any day, telling him which exotic nation he was headed to next.

      He swore disappointment descended over her features before she brightened. “Then let’s make the most of tonight. Will you sit with me at dinner?”

      He hesitated, surprised he wanted to say yes.

      She grimaced. “Please tell me I didn’t make a faux pas and proposition a married man.”

      Proposition? She’d used the word in a nonsexual context but his body stirred. “Not married, but I’m leaving as soon as I get the caterer to move the van. My car’s blocked in.”

      “The caterer will be too busy to do anything until after dinner,” she said. “Besides, you have to eat, right?”

      He’d intended to grab a burger at the fast-food restaurant near his hotel. That plan seemed even less appealing with Sara Brenneman waiting for his answer.

      “If you say no,” Sara said, “I’ll have to spend the reception hiding out in the restroom because every matchmaker in the hall is eyeing me.”

      He chuckled. “You’re making that up.”

      “Am not. Even the bride has me in her sights.”

      “In that case,” he said, going with his gut, “how can I refuse?”

      “Good.” Her smile reached her eyes, which struck him as sexy as hell. “I want to know all about you.”

      He braced himself for questions as they walked back inside the building, but she provided answers, СКАЧАТЬ