Читать книгу Finders Keepers - Ingrid Weaver - Страница 7

Chapter Three

Don’t I know you?

At least a dozen responses sprang to Brittany’s mind. No, Jesse had never really known her. To him she would have been the chubby kid next door, his quiet and clumsy friend. At least, she hoped it was friendship he felt, though it could have been pity. He wouldn’t have a clue how fervently she had adored him, or how many lovesick glances she’d hidden behind the curtain of her hair.

She remembered well the day she’d cut her hair short. She’d been sixteen, and it had hung almost to her waist. She dared to think it was pretty, until one of the kids on the school bus called her Cousin Itt, the short, hairy creature from The Addams Family. The other names they called her, like stumpy or porko, didn’t hurt as much as being ridiculed for her beautiful hair. She’d lopped it off with her sewing shears that night.

Jesse had already disappeared by then. She hadn’t realized it would be for good. She assumed he would come back once the publicity stirred up by the trial ran its course, and the sightseers and treasure hunters stopped traipsing around the Koostra place. Jesse wasn’t shy or ugly or awkward like her. He was strong and fearless. He wouldn’t care what people said or thought. Besides, it was his father who had been convicted, not him.

But the family never returned. Sometimes at night, Brittany glimpsed a light at the house or moving around the yard or flickering through the trees, and her pulse would do the little dance it always did at the thought of seeing Jesse. Yet the property remained vacant, even during the years she’d been on the road herself.

Then how could he recognize her now? Her hair was short and streaked with purple. It couldn’t hide anything, including the metal studs on the rims of her ears. And her waist was so small, she had to make a double bow with the strings from Aunt Mae’s frilly apron so the ends wouldn’t hang past her knees. On the outside, she wasn’t the same person. She believed she’d changed on the inside, too.

Jesse smiled. “You’re Brittany Barton, aren’t you?”

Oh, great. Whatever progress she might have made just evaporated. His smile had the same effect it always did. It made her feel special, warm, cherished….

And idiotic. She dipped her chin once in what she hoped was a casual nod. “Yes, that’s me.”

“I’m Jesse.” He thrust out his right hand. “Jesse Koostra. My family used to live down the road from yours. Don’t you remember me?”

The question was so absurd, it brought out an answering smile. She took his hand without thinking.