Rainbow's End. Irene Hannon

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СКАЧАТЬ I said, the woman in Eastsound told me there was a cabin on the property that might be available for the night.” He did his best to sound conversational rather than desperate. “Everything else on the island is booked because of the holiday. She tried to call, but your phone seems to be out. I could sure use a place to stay. The storm’s bad.”

      As if to reinforce his comment, a jagged flash of lightning strobed the sky, followed by a boom of thunder that rattled the window beside Jill. In the wake of that aerial display, the rain intensified. The wind was sweeping sheets of it over the porch railing. Beads of water glistened on the man’s leather jacket, and he took his hands out of his pockets to turn up the collar. Yet he didn’t step closer, even though such a move would have offered him more protection from the rain.

      The notion of having this strange man on her property was disconcerting, but Jill saw no recourse. She couldn’t send him back into the storm. That would go against every principle of her faith. And the cabin was on the other side of the meadow, after all. It wasn’t as if she was opening her door and bringing a stranger under her own roof. Still, she hesitated.

      When the woman didn’t react to his first entreaty, Keith tried again. “I know you don’t usually rent the cabin, but could you make an exception for one night? I’m willing to pay whatever you think is fair.”

      Taking a deep breath, and praying that she was making the right decision, Jill spoke at last. “No…I mean, yes, you can stay there. But there’s no charge. You’re welcome to use it for the night. I’ll get the key.”

      Before he could respond, the door shut and Keith heard the lock click back into place. Surprised by her sudden acquiescence, he stared at the closed door, letting his good luck sink in. He had a place to stay. A haven from the storm. The tense muscles in his shoulders began to ease, and he let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The woman who lived in this house might be eccentric, but she had compassion. Bless her for her kindness, Lord.

      Twin furrows appeared on Keith’s brow. Now where had that come from? Although such blessings had once been routine for him, he hadn’t offered one for two long years. Yet the request had slipped out. Force of habit, no doubt. A result of weariness and relief rather than a firm belief that the Lord might listen—let alone answer.

      The lock rattled again, and once more the door opened no farther than the chain would allow. A hand slipped through, holding a key, and Keith reached for it.

      “The cabin’s about a hundred yards east of the house at the far side of the meadow. It’s rustic, but it does have running water. There’s a narrow, overgrown graveled track that leads to it across the edge of the field, off the driveway. If you need…” As their fingers brushed, Jill’s words trailed off. The man’s hands were like ice! One thing she’d discovered since coming to the island—even nice summer evenings could be cool, and stormy nights were apt to be downright chilly. This man hadn’t learned that yet. She cleared her throat and retracted her hand. “There’s a portable propane heater in the closet if you get cold.”

      “Thanks. Are there candles out there?”

      “I don’t keep candles on the property.” She turned away briefly, then her hand reappeared through the crack, clutching a large flashlight. “This should get you through the night. I expect the power will be back on by morning.”

      The husky quality of the woman’s voice intrigued him. She didn’t sound old. But it wasn’t a young voice, either. Curiosity about his temporary landlady warred with the need for shelter. Shelter won. Besides, it was obvious that he wasn’t going to get more than a shadowy glimpse of her tonight.

      “Thanks. I’ll be fine.”

      As he took the flashlight and turned away, directing the beam on the path in front of him, he sensed that she was watching him. Making sure, perhaps, that he followed her instructions and went on his way. And that was fine by him. He’d much rather have a woman intent on getting rid of him than one who…

      Unbidden, an image of Susan Reynolds flashed across his mind. Blond, vivacious, attractive—and lethal as a viper. Keith’s mouth settled into a thin, grim line as he slid behind the wheel. He’d never known hate until she’d swept through his life like a hurricane, leaving death and destruction in her wake. Never known the kind of all-consuming rage that could rip a man’s heart to shreds and leave him helpless and bereft and destroyed, railing against the God who had once been the center of his world. Crying “Why?” into the black void that had become his life, with only the hollow echo of his question coming back in response.

      A crash of thunder boomed across the meadow as his headlights tried with limited success to pierce the gloom. The rain beat against the roof of his car in an incessant, pounding, staccato beat. Gusts of wind buffeted the vehicle as he struggled to stay on the obscured, overgrown track, and find his way in the darkness when all the forces of nature seemed to be conspiring against him.

      But Keith knew he was close to his destination. That if he persevered, in a couple more minutes he’d find physical refuge from the storm around him.

      He just wished a reprieve from the storm within was as close at hand.

      Chapter Two

      It wasn’t noise that roused Keith from a deep slumber the next morning. In fact, the stillness was absolute. Instead, the culprit was a cheery beam of sunlight that danced across his face and tickled his eyes until he finally gave in and opened them.

      For a few seconds, he lay motionless, taking stock of his surroundings—his usual orientation ritual after a year of waking up in a new environment on a sometimes-daily basis. What wasn’t usual, however, was the odd sense of…peace, was the word that came to mind…that enveloped him, like the cozy, soothing warmth of a downy comforter on a cold winter night. Calm had replaced the restlessness that had been his constant companion for more months than he cared to remember. The question was, why?

      His mind went into rewind. He was on Orcas Island, in the widow woman’s cottage where he’d taken refuge from last night’s raging storm. A storm which had now blown out to sea, if the rays of sunlight slanting through the grimy windows of the tiny cottage were any indication. His location didn’t seem to offer the answer he sought, however. But whatever the cause, this sense of serenity was a balm to his soul. Instead of trying to analyze it, he’d just enjoy it while it lasted.

      Throwing back the patchwork quilt on the double bed that was crammed into the miniscule, spartan bedroom, Keith rose and stretched muscles stiff from too many hours behind the wheel. His wet jeans and shirt lay on the floor where he’d dropped them the night before, when he’d been too weary to do more than kick them into a soggy heap. Stepping over the limp pile, he padded into the only other room in the structure—a combination living-eating area that was furnished with an eclectic mix of odds and ends. A tiny galley kitchen was tucked into a corner alcove, the door to a bare-bones bathroom beside it. Not quite the Ritz—but at least it was dry.

      Cleanliness was another story. When he bent to pick up his bag from the floor, then dropped it onto a dated plaid couch, a puff of dust rose, generating two monumental sneezes. His landlady might be charitable, but her housekeeping skills seemed rusty, at best.

      Fifteen minutes later, however, fortified by a hot shower and clean clothes, Keith took a better look at his temporary home and revised his assessment. This didn’t seem to be the sort of place that required housekeeping. Although the cottage was furnished, suggesting that someone had lived here at one time, it now seemed to be used more as a storage shed. Several wicker baskets were piled on the kitchen counter beside the crumpled paper from СКАЧАТЬ