Читать книгу Protector's Honor - Kit Wilkinson - Страница 12

The investigation took up a good part of the afternoon. Detectives Greenwood and Hines agonized over every detail before leaving. Rory appreciated their methodical ways, knowing his father would have been pleased that the department still ran tight.

In the cool air-conditioning of the Birchwood Inn, he sat on one end of a hand-carved bench that he’d pulled near Tabitha. On the other end of the bench, he’d propped her ankle. The flesh around it had turned bluish, but the swelling seemed to have gone down a bit. They sipped cold drinks and ate some of the lemon squares Terri had brought.

Tabitha had long ago arranged her ride home, and the police had no further questions for him. Rory no longer had a reason to stay. Yet he lingered. Nervously, he downed his glass of sweet tea and checked his watch. “I should call Gram.” He stood abruptly.

Terri stood with him. “Oh, yeah, Gram. I’ll need to change your reservation at Nick’s.”

“Reservation? What reservation?” Rory swallowed hard.

“Oh.” Terri pressed her lips together. “I thought you overheard me earlier.”

Rory shrugged, eyes widening.

“Well, Tabitha’s roommate can’t arrive until ten, so I made a dinner reservation for the two of you at Nick’s,” his cousin said. “But I forgot about Gram. Anyway, I’ll just change it from two to three.”

Thanks, Terri. Talk about putting us on the spot. Rory glanced at Tabitha, trying to gauge her reaction.

“Oh, wow. That’s nice but…” Tabitha shook her head from side to side. “I’m so tired and not the least bit hungry. I’ll just rest here and wait for my ride.”

“You can’t sit here all that time. I won’t hear of it,” Terri said. “So get whatever you need from our boutique and have a great dinner, all compliments of the Birchwood Inn. It’s the least we can do.” Terri smiled, turned on her heel and headed to her office without giving either of them a chance to respond.

Tabitha turned to Rory with a sly grin. “She’s hard to argue with.”

“Yep. Can’t get a word in. She’s always been like that.” He scratched his head. “Hey, I didn’t know your ride would take so long. I could have driven you home myself.”

Tabitha stiffened. “No. You’ve already done so much. And forget about dinner. I’m sure you already have plans. So, don’t worry about me.”

“Actually, the plan was dinner with my grandmother. If you don’t join us, I’ll have to cancel.”

She looked up with a suspicious grin. “Now, that’s just silly.”

Rory shook his head. “Tabitha, I can’t leave you here alone. It might not be safe.”

“Nonsense. I’ll be fine.”

“No can do…And Nick’s is a great place. Come on. Have dinner with us.” He lowered her foot to the floor and replaced the bench against the wall. Then he stood over her with his arms folded.

“Oh, be serious,” she argued. “I can’t go. I’m filthy and I don’t have anything to wear.”

Rory was glad that Terri had already taken care of that problem. He would have never thought of the hotel gift shop. “Not a good excuse. You have a new hotel room and the gift shop at your disposal.” He pointed to the boutique that adjoined the front lobby. “I can see a whole wall of women’s clothing from here. Come on. I’ll walk you over.” He offered her an arm.

“I doubt I’ll be good company,” she continued as he pulled her up.

“You’ll be perfect. It will be the best date you’ve ever had.”

“Date? Your grandmother is coming. It’s not a date.”

Rory felt her stiffen beside him. “It’s just a manner of speaking,” he explained, wondering why the reference made her so defensive. Many people would call a lot less than dinner at the town’s fanciest restaurant a date.

In the boutique, Tabitha selected a few garments and a pair of flip-flops, then insisted on hobbling up the stairs alone. A half hour later, she returned wearing a cream-colored blouse and a long flowered skirt. Her dark brown hair, still damp, promised long, twisting curls and tumbled softly around her face and over her shoulders.

Rory drank in her beauty, then hurried to help her down the last few steps. “You look lovely.”

“Thank you.” She pushed back her hair then took his arm. “I wish I felt lovely.”

“You’re just tired.”

“Yes, I am,” she agreed. “I’m sure you are, too.”

“Not really. Just anxious to get a shower.”

Rory helped Tabitha out of the inn and across the lawn to his truck. “Gram’s at the cabin. She can keep you company while I change.”

Tabitha bit her lower lip. “Do you mind if we not talk about what happened today?”

“Sure,” Rory said, giving her a lift into the cab of the truck. They both reached for the safety belt. His hand engulfed hers over the small buckle. Her skin felt warm and smooth under his rough hands.

“I got it,” she said, lifting her eyes to his. Her fingers tensed under his.

Rory ignored her stiffness. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he lifted the belt across her lap and secured it. As he leaned over the seat, the aroma of vanilla filled his senses. His eyes drifted to her soft lips. He swallowed hard and retreated, closing the passenger door with care.

Wow.

Tabitha remained silent as he cranked up the engine and headed down the mountain.

“I’m sorry I grilled you earlier. I get carried away with the cop thing sometimes. And you kind of freaked me out when you ran after your car like that.”

“I kind of freaked myself out. It’s been a bad day. I’m sorry I cried all over your shoulder.”

“Not at all. I hear that’s what they’re for.”

Her lips twitched upward but still no smile.

Rory searched for something to say, but Terri was right—he was completely out of practice conversing with the opposite sex. “I hope you’re not upset about me dragging you to dinner.”

“No. I’m not. I just can’t understand why my brother won’t answer his phone. I tried him again from the room and still no answer.”

“Did you talk to his wife?”

“No. But I spoke with his dental partner. He answered the weekend emergency line.”

“Does his partner know where he is?”

“Not exactly.” She shook her head. “He just said that Max and Karin are having a romantic getaway and that he’d been instructed not to call them. Must have been last second or my brother would have told me.”

Rory could see the disappointment in her face and frowned. He didn’t want this to be an uncomfortable evening full of the day’s fear and bad memories. “You know, I think I’m a little jealous of Max.”

She gave him a strange look.

“I don’t have any siblings,” he explained. And as the simple statement came out, Rory realized how deeply he felt it. Especially now with his father gone.

“I’m lucky. I have a great family.” She smiled.

The brightness of her expression lifted his own spirits. “So it was just the four of you, until your brother married?”

“Yes. My dad’s a professor of medieval studies. He travels to Europe every summer for research. Every fourth year, he stays abroad somewhere as a visiting professor. He’s at Exeter this year. It’s one of the reasons Max and I got to be so close. Every summer we just had each other.”

“Sounds interesting. Living abroad.”

“It was a nice way to grow up.”

“What does your mom do?”

“Mostly keep my dad’s head on straight.” She turned toward him. “What does yours do?”

Rory let out a sigh. “I never knew my mom. She left when I was young.”

Tabitha frowned. “I’m sorry. She must be somewhere regretting that. She missed out on a lot.”

Rory, expecting pity, chuckled at her response. “That’s exactly what my grandmother says. Just between you and me, I don’t think Gram liked my mother too much. Says I was the only thing she ever did right.”

“But your dad loved her?”

“Oh, yeah. I think until his last breath he expected her to come back. I hated that he died like that.”

“Like what? Hopeful?”

“Is that hope or just a waste?”

“Your dad didn’t think his hope was a waste.”

“She didn’t come back.” Rory could hear his own bitterness.

“Doesn’t mean she didn’t love him…and you.”

What else could it mean?

As they pulled in front of his cabin, Rory felt a lump forming in his throat. He still found himself expecting James Farrell to be inside when he entered. His stomach churned as he turned into the gravel drive. He parked the truck and walked around to help Tabitha from the cab.

She smiled wide as he opened the door. “Is this your grandmother’s home? It’s beautiful.”

Rory felt his lips curl upward. “Actually, it’s mine. My dad and I built it.”

Tabitha’s face seemed to light up as she scanned over the property. “It’s gorgeous. Look at that view. It’s better than the inn.” She stepped out of the truck, occupied with the panorama of mountains. Clumsily, she landed on her bad ankle and fell into him. Rory encircled his arms about her and held her up.

She blushed. He noticed that, for the first time, her body wasn’t rigid against him.

Rory looked into her eyes. An awkward smile covered her expression. Her long brown curls blew with the soft breeze and danced around her face. Rory ached to run his hands through them.

“I promise to pay more attention,” she vowed. “I can’t keep falling all over you.”

Had that been his cue to release her? He found himself not able to. He liked the connection—the feeling that she belonged there. At his cabin. In his arms.

She pulled away, her expression dazed. Rory turned her to the front porch. “Come on. Let’s meet Gram. You must be the only person in North Carolina who doesn’t know her.”

“Shame on you, Rory. You didn’t tell me you were bringing a guest to dinner.” In designer jeans and a green silk blouse, Gram stood at the door of the cabin with one hand on her hip and the other pointed at her grandson. Her short gray hair bounced with each syllable. A welcoming smile defied her authoritative stance and scolding words.

Rory lowered Gram’s finger then leaned in and kissed the top of her head. “Gram, this is Tabitha Beaumont. I met her at the triathlon today. She’s coming to dinner with us.”

The older woman took a step forward and extended a hand. “Hello, dear. I’m Lilly. Please come in.”

“Nice to meet you.” Tabitha shook the tall, thin-framed woman’s hand, noting her eyes possessed the same rich, blue shade as Rory’s.

“Nice to meet you, too,” Lilly said. “It’s about time my grandson had a date. I just wish he had told me. Mr. Watson asked me to the movies this evening. I should have said yes. Instead, I’m going to ruin your dinner tagging along.” She passed another scolding glance at Rory. “Now come on in, dear, and tell me what happened to your ankle.”

“Mr. Watson?” Rory interrupted. “That little old man who runs the grocery downtown? You’re dating him?” Rory hid his face from his grandmother and winked at Tabitha.

Lilly looked indignant. “Mr. Watson is a fine man and watch yourself—he’s the same age as I am.” She took Tabitha by the arm and escorted her into the house. “Excuse him. I suppose he’s showing off. I don’t blame him.”

Rory’s face turned the color of a ripe McIntosh and Tabitha wondered what shade of red her own must have been. She could feel the heat pulsing in her cheeks.

Gram led her into the kitchen. “Now sit right here while I fix some tea and call Mr. Watson. I’ll bet he and I can still make that movie.”

“Mrs. Farrell, my being here was completely last second. And I wouldn’t have come if I thought I was interrupting your time with your grandson. It’s not a date. You really should go with us.”

“Not a date?” Lilly repeated and looked with disappointment at Rory.

“I’m not saying another word.” Rory held his palms high in the air. “You two beautiful women can decide how many for dinner.” He glanced nervously at Tabitha. “If you’ll excuse me. My turn to shower.”

In the kitchen, Lilly poured herbal tea for two and entertained Tabitha with stories about Rory’s mischievous youth. Her voice felt like a balm to Tabitha’s tired nerves. For a moment, she forgot the horrors of the day and laughed until her belly ached.

“I can’t believe he did that,” she said. “I just met your grandson but it’s hard to imagine him loading school cubbies with toads. He seems so serious now. So honor bound.”

“That he is.” Lilly frowned a little. “I’m afraid he may come across a little too serious these days. His father’s death has been difficult. He’s very angry over it.”

“Angry? I thought your son died of cancer, not in the line of duty.”

“He did die of cancer. And very quickly. Rory’s angry at God. Angry his prayers weren’t answered.” She patted Tabitha’s hand. “But don’t you worry. He’ll work that out. He’s a good man. And I should know. I helped his father raise him.”

“Well, he adores you. That’s for sure.” Tabitha forced a smile, saddened to learn of Rory’s anger.

“And I adore him, which is why I refuse to go to dinner with you two.” She scooted from the table and snatched the portable phone from the kitchen counter.

“No. Please. You should join us.” Tabitha tried to persuade Lilly. But her mind was made up. She would not be a “third wheel,” as she kept putting it.

While Gram chatted with Mr. Watson, Tabitha thought about spending the evening alone with Rory. Her shoulders tied into knots. You can do this, Tabitha. You can have dinner with the man who rescued you. You can. It’s not a date.

“Let’s go.” Rory’s voice boomed into the kitchen.

Tabitha hadn’t heard him emerge from the back of the cabin. Turning, she followed the deep sound until she found him standing by the front door, adjusting his shirt collar. He looked amazing. She had thought so at the race, but now clean-shaven, dressed in a pair of slacks and a polo shirt, his sculpted features were even more pronounced. His broad shoulders and the strong line of his jaw had definite movie-star quality.

She pulled away her lingering eyes and edged her way to the foyer. Rory helped her to the truck. His strong hand on her elbow sent a tingle to her very core. Gram rode along with them into town, talking all the way. They dropped her at the theater where Mr. Watson waited. And Tabitha feared that what she’d been reluctant to call a date was turning out to be exactly that.

“Your Gram looks happy with Mr. Watson,” she noted.

Rory made a muffled sound and turned the truck into the restaurant parking.

Nick’s was a small, elegant bistro. She and Rory occupied a tiny table for two in the back of the dining room and ate some of the most delicious Italian food Tabitha had tasted in a long time.

“I’m eating like a truck driver,” she claimed. “Sorry. I didn’t realize how hungry I was. It’s delicious.”

“It is. And I’m glad you’re eating. It’s good to see you relax. You didn’t have anything for lunch.”

“Neither did you,” she countered.

He leaned closer to her with a cockeyed grin. “You noticed? I’m flattered.”

“Really? Flattered by that? You should listen to your grandmother and get out more.”

Rory’s deep baritone laughter filled the small room. Those hypnotic eyes twinkled at her in the candlelight. His grin spread wide under that slightly crooked and freckled nose—his only imperfection, if she could even call it that.

She felt her throat constricting. So far, the dinner had been casual, friendly-like, without any flirtations. This change made her uncomfortable. Uncomfortable because the change wasn’t just from him—she felt it in herself, as well.

She looked away as she wiped her mouth with the cloth napkin. She’d be a big fat liar to tell herself she didn’t feel attracted to him. Over the past two years, she’d wondered if she could ever feel like this again. She should have been pleased. Instead, it was completely unnerving. “I like your grandmother,” she said. “She’s spunky.”

“You like my grandmother. Great.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “She didn’t wear you out with all her stories and gossip?”

“You forget. I’m a lawyer. I’m used to lots of talking.” Except for tonight, she thought. She looked down at her watch. “Wow. Look at the time. We should probably get back to the inn.”

“What about dessert?” He looked hopeful.

“No, thank you.”

Rory frowned and placed his napkin beside his plate. He leaned forward with those intense eyes boring into her. “Coffee?”

Tabitha shook her head.

“Are you okay? You look pale again.”

“I’m fine.” But was she? Why did it feel like the walls were closing in? Must have been the mixture of exhaustion, anxiety and emotion catching up with her again. The sooner she was home the better. Away from Hendersonville, that mountain and Rory Farrell.

As they stood, Rory’s phone pulsed at his waist. Tabitha tried to look away as he mumbled in low tones, but her eyes were drawn to him like magnets to steel. He glanced her way as he spoke, his smile fading, and she knew the call was about her. About the attack. The pool of dread began to rise around her again.

Rory snapped his cell shut. “That was Detective Hines on the phone. They found your car.”