Renegade's Pride. B.J. Daniels

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СКАЧАТЬ just come back and clear his name. The case had gone dead cold in nine years. How could he possibly prove his innocence? He’d run. He looked guilty. Maybe was guilty, she thought, even though in her heart she didn’t believe it. Would never believe it.

      “Lillie, tell me there’s a chance for us once I’m free of all this.”

      No fool would trust her heart to this cowboy. She thought of the years she’d yearned for him, hoping for just a word, anything. She hadn’t even known if he was still alive.

      “I’m sorry, but it’s too little, too late,” she said with a shake of her head. “Nine years ago I was in love with you. Nine years ago I would have done anything to help you. But you left me waiting for you. You broke my heart.” The admission came out on a ragged breath before she could stop it. She raised her chin in defiance and lied through her teeth. “I’ve moved on.”

      He cocked his head. “I don’t think so. You’re sleeping in a queen-size bed all by yourself wearing my old T-shirt. I know you’ve hardly dated since I left.”

      He’d been keeping tabs on her through someone here in town? She bristled, outraged. “You kept track of me, but you didn’t bother to contact me?”

      “I couldn’t. I knew your brother would expect that.” He sat down on the edge of the bed again. She moved to the far edge away from him. “I’m so sorry I hurt you, Lillie. I was a fool. But I never stopped loving you. No matter what happens now, I’m not leaving until I get back what I lost.” He reached for her.

      Lillie jumped up, dragging the quilt with her to put distance and clothing between them. She’d seen that look in Trask’s eyes too many times. It had always sparked a burning desire in her that matched his own. She didn’t know how much Trask had changed, but how he made her feel hadn’t. It would have been so easy to fall back into that empty bed with this man, this man she’d ached for all these years. Just to feel his arms around her...

      “You need to leave before I call Flint,” she said, her voice warbling with both fear and a yearning that made her sick with need.

      “You won’t do that, even if it is true and you don’t love me anymore. I only came here because I couldn’t let another day go by without telling you how I felt. I can understand that you’ve moved on.” His look said he didn’t understand it, couldn’t accept it. “But know this, I am no longer running when things get tough. I’m sticking it out. I love you, Lillie. That will never change no matter what.”

      She said nothing. They stayed like that, eyeing each other across the empty bed, the crumpled sheets between them a reminder of what they’d once shared.

      “I’m going to clear my name. Once I do, I’m coming for you. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Or fighting for you, if that’s what it takes.” With that, he stood, turned on his boot heel and headed for the door.

      “Wait a minute.”

      Trask turned expectantly and almost took a step in her direction.

      “How did you get in here?” she demanded.

      He looked surprised. “Seriously? I was picking locks before I was ten.” Sometimes she forgot the kind of family Trask had come from. His father had been a trick roper, traveling all over the country with a carnival. Trask’s mother had taken off when he was a boy. He’d had a stepmother of sorts for a short while, just long enough for him to think his life was going to settle down, before she took off with her son, Emery, from another relationship.

      Trask had been raising himself most of his life. But after the so-called stepmother had left, Trask, then fifteen, had started getting into trouble. Nothing big, just enough trouble that the local law knew him well and would come looking for him when something happened—like the murder of Trask’s boss after there’d been an altercation that had been witnessed.

      Lillie followed him at a safe distance to lock the door behind him. Not that it would do any good if he decided to come back. She’d have to get better locks if she hoped to keep him out. Too bad there wasn’t a lock for her heart.

      She felt a chill and realized she was still wearing his old worn T-shirt. She raced back up the stairs, shivering. She could still smell his male scent mixed with the night air and the cloying scent of her perfume. It made the ache deep within her hurt even worse.

      Stripping off Trask’s old T-shirt, she threw it in the hamper and dug in the bottom of her dresser for the brand-new flannel nightgown some aunt had given her for a college graduation present. Pulling it on, she stepped to the window, opened it and let the cold breeze cool the heat that had her cheeks flushed, her body damp with perspiration.

      She heard the sound of a truck engine start in the distance. Would he head for town? She listened until the sound died off in the distance, relieved when the truck headed for the mountains. At least he was smart enough to hide out. But then what?

      Her mind reeling, she closed the window and climbed into bed, even though she knew she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep tonight.

      * * *

      EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, Maggie Thompson picked up her scissors and cut one-hundredth of an inch off the hank of hair spread between her fingers, her mind on her date tonight with the sheriff instead of this morning’s long list of difficult clients.

      She felt a bubble of excitement rise in her at the thought of tonight. Her relationship with Flint—she could think of it as that now—was about to go to the next level. They’d taken it slow, since both of them were leery after their former bad experiences. But they seemed to click. It was time to see where this was going.

      “Not too short,” Mrs. Appleby warned. “You know Herbert complains if it’s too short.”

      “Yes, Sandra. I’m just trimming off a tiniest bit just to shape it up.” They’d had this conversation so many times that Maggie could have recited it from memory.

      Sandra Appleby touched her thinning gray locks and considered her profile in the mirror. “Did you hear about Jenna Holloway?”

      Beauty shops were a hotbed of gossip. Maggie didn’t encourage it, but she also knew that her clients came here to relax and catch up on who was pregnant, who was getting a divorce, who had gone into the nursing home and who was seeing whom since their last visit.

      Some clients thrived on being the first to know what was happening in town—and spreading it. It was the nature of a beauty shop in a small town. Maggie did her best to keep out of it. She didn’t want to hear in town that she’d said something she hadn’t. So she kept quiet as she finished the haircut.

      “I heard she’s missing,” Sandra said. “How could she be missing?”

      Maggie had no idea and said as much. Sandra was one of those who loved to be the first with the town news. It helped that she had a niece who worked as a dispatcher at the sheriff’s office.

      “I thought the sheriff would have told you,” Sandra said, eyeing her in the mirror. “You two are still seeing each other, right?”

      “I don’t tell him about my clients and he doesn’t tell me about his cases,” she said.

      “Well, I suppose that’s for the best given some of your clients.” Sandra chuckled at her joke. “Still, you can’t help but wonder if Anvil did something to СКАЧАТЬ