Still Waters. Shirlee McCoy

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СКАЧАТЬ a standoff. One determined to move toward the truck, the other just as determined to stay put. Finally Jake leaned down and grasped the dog under its belly, lifting him from the ground with an ease that surprised Tiffany. She watched as he walked toward the truck, his stride long but unhurried, as if the hundred-pound dog were no weight at all. She supposed that had something to do with the bulging muscles of his biceps and the wide, toned breadth of his shoulders. As if sensing her gaze, Jake glanced in Tiffany’s direction, his blue eyes dark and unreadable. Tiffany’s heart did a little flip of awareness before she had the presence of mind to turn away.

      Physical strength, stunning good looks—those things might appeal to some people, but not to Tiffany. Brian’s lanky runner’s frame and boy-next-door looks were pleasant but it was his dedication, faith and intelligence that had drawn Tiffany to him.

      If the sparks didn’t fly when her eyes met Brian’s—well, that was to be expected. They weren’t living a romance novel and they weren’t teenagers experiencing the bliss of their first love. Brian was everything Tiffany had asked God for—more—and she was thankful. Really.

      “All set.” Jake appeared at the driver’s side door and slid into the truck cab, his shoulder brushing Tiffany’s as he buckled his seat belt and started the engine.

      It didn’t take long to drive to Becky’s Diner and neither Tiffany nor Jake felt compelled to speak during the short ride. Tiffany wasn’t sure of the reason for the sheriff’s silence. Hers was due to fatigue and worry. She eyed the parking lot as Jake circled it for the second time. Cars were crammed close together, bright sunlight reflecting off their hoods. Even the overflow area was packed tight with vehicles, a result, Tiffany knew, of summer’s arrival.

      During the hot months of June, July and August, seasonal residents and tourists flocked to Smith Mountain Lake for recreation. The small, tight-knit community Tiffany had grown up in swelled to twice its size, and the diner’s normally adequate parking lot filled to overflowing. Most times, Tiffany didn’t mind the inconvenience. Today she was in a hurry, and prayed a parking spot would open soon.

      As Jake circled the parking lot for the third time, Tiffany’s gaze wandered across the rows of cars. Where was Brian’s Saturn? He’d picked her up at home this morning and driven to the diner—the starting and finishing point of their four-mile run. Now his car was gone.

      “I don’t see Brian’s car. I hope he didn’t go looking for me.”

      “Want me to go in and ask for him?” Jake spoke as he maneuvered the Chevy into a vacated parking space.

      “No. I’ll go in myself. Do you mind waiting with the dog? I’ll get him when I come back out.”

      “No problem. But if you’re planning to go in the diner you might want to put this on.” He reached behind the seat and pulled out a blue jacket, thrusting it into Tiffany’s hand.

      His expression revealed nothing of his thoughts, though his gaze drifted down to rest briefly on Tiffany’s wet shirt. She followed his gaze with her own, gasping in surprise as she realized the extent of the damage. Smudges of dirt and grass stained the front of the shirt and a jagged tear rent the hem. Worse, the material clung to her like a second skin. Hastily pushing her arms through the sleeves of the jacket, Tiffany zipped it to her chin and tried to ignore the fine trembling in her hands. Her lake ordeal had left her exhausted and she couldn’t wait to get home.

      She pasted a smile on her face and turned toward the sheriff, ready to make light of the moment and be on her way. Instead she froze, flustered by the intense stare of the man beside her. He didn’t smile, didn’t offer any encouragement, just held her gaze, his face set in an expression that shouted stay back.

      Tiffany imagined him using that expression on criminals. Imagined him forcing a confession by the sheer force of his gaze. She swallowed back nervous laughter and pushed open the truck door. “I guess I’d better get in there. Thanks for the jacket. And for saving me. And the dog, too. I mean…I’d better go find Brian.”

      Without a backward glance, Tiffany hopped out of the truck and headed for the diner.

      Chapter Two

      Jake watched her go, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It surprised him a little, the pulling of muscles and crinkling of eyes, the spontaneous response to simple pleasure. The past year had been short on smiles. Those that had graced Jake’s face felt forced and unnatural.

      Now he was close to grinning thanks to Tiffany Anderson and her rambling, embarrassed banter. Not to mention her shuffling run as she moved across the parking lot, the sleeves of his jacket falling down over her hands. He’d thought her hair to be brown, but now realized he’d been wrong. It was red—a bouncing, shouting array of gold and fire.

      He wondered if she had a temper to match, then forced his mind away from the question. He didn’t want to know about Tiffany. Didn’t want to find out who she was, what made her tick, or why she would risk her life for a dog.

      He’d done it once—searched for the answers to a woman’s heart. The result had been two years of bitter feuds and cutting silences. In the end, he and Sheila had divorced. He’d thrown himself into his work. She’d thrown herself into the bottle. Jake had blamed himself. Now he avoided relationships, preferring a life of solitude to a life of regret.

      Jake ran a hand through his hair and eyed the closed door of the diner. Too much time had passed. Tiffany should have returned by now. The dog whined as if he, too, were growing impatient. Determined to get on with his day, Jake stepped out of the truck and checked on the dog, who lay panting loudly in the morning heat. No doubt he was thirsty.

      Jake figured he could get the dog some water in the diner. Then he’d find Tiffany Anderson and politely ask her to remove the mutt from the back of his truck.

      If he could find Tiffany. If she hadn’t scooted out the back of the diner and left the dog to him. Jake winced at his own cynicism. Ten years patrolling the most squalid areas of Washington, D.C., had taught him everything he needed to know about human nature. Not that he’d had much to learn. He’d cut his teeth on lies and faithlessness. Where Jake grew up, a promise made was a promise broken and the only person he could trust was himself.

      Forcing his mind away from the past, Jake pushed open the door of the diner and walked into warmth and chaos. The sun shone through huge storefront windows, bathing the room with light. Jukebox music and eager conversation filled the dining area as waitresses shuffled order pads and balanced food-laden trays. The heady aroma of bacon and sausage wafted through the room and Jake’s stomach rumbled in response. Once he found Tiffany and got rid of the dog, Jake figured he might just start his vacation with a stack of pancakes and a side of home fried potatoes. Taking a seat at the counter, he gazed around the room searching for a head full of rioting curls.

      “Looking for Tiffy?”

      Jake turned to greet Doris Williams, the current owner of Becky’s Diner. “Tiffy?”

      “Tiffany Anderson. She said you brought her here from the lake. I thought maybe you were looking for her.”

      “Yeah. She leave?”

      “She’s in the bathroom. Crying, I’d say. Not that she’s the mopey kind, mind you. But a girl counts on her man being there for her when she’s down. When he’s not, it’s disappointing.”

      Jake’s mind spun at the turn in the conversation but he nodded anyway. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

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