Читать книгу Wyatt's Most Wanted Wife - Sandra Steffen, Sandra Steffen - Страница 9

“Somebody stole your car?” Wyatt asked.

“Thank God.”

Wyatt, Luke and Lisa all swung around and looked at Clayt.

“Are you happy about this?” Lisa asked.

Clayt Carson had the grace to look sheepish. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded, ma’am. I’m just relieved because my little girl couldn’t have been responsible for stealing a car.”

Swiping his faded brown cowboy hat off his head, he glanced at Wyatt and said, “You don’t think Haley took it, do you?”

Wyatt settled his hands to his hips and gave Clayt’s question careful consideration. The man had every reason to be worried. During the past two months since she’d come to live with her father, nine-year-old Haley Carson had been a handful. She had been caught stealing food off Lisa and Jillian’s front porch last month, but Wyatt didn’t think a little kid was responsible for stealing a car. Even if the child in question was Haley Carson. Shifting his gaze to Lisa, he asked, “Did you leave your keys in the ignition?”

She shook her head. “I know most people out here do, but I haven’t gotten out of the habit of stashing my keys in my purse every time I get out of my car.”

“There you have it,” Wyatt told Clayt. “Unless Haley knows how to hot-wire an automobile, she’s off the hook.”

Clayt crammed his hat back on his head and visibly relaxed. Wyatt slanted his two best friends an arched look. They both looked at Lisa, then at him and then at each other. With half smiles the Carsons were famous for, they tugged at the brims of their hats and muttered something about other places they had to be.

It was all Lisa could do not to shake her head and roll her eyes at the way those two men swaggered out of the office. They couldn’t possibly think she’d actually bought their little show of innocence, could they? Oh, she didn’t doubt that they had someplace they had to go. After all, there probably were cattle for Luke to inoculate, and Clayt probably did have to get home to his daughter. But those boys were ranchers, not actors, and they left because Wyatt had given them the signal to go.

In the wake of creaking floorboards and the resounding clatter of the door, the room seemed inordinately silent. That silence wrapped around Lisa, as thick as the air before a thunderstorm and just as invigorating.

She wasn’t sure why she chose that particular moment to glance up at Wyatt, but once she had, she couldn’t look away. This was one of the few times she’d seen him without his white Stetson. His hair was a dark shade of blond. She wasn’t surprised it wasn’t shaggy around the edges. Oh, no, Wyatt McCully was probably one of those men who got his hair cut the first week of every month just like clockwork. She’d seen his eyes before, so their golden shade of brown came as no surprise, either. Today, she was more concerned about the interest smoldering in their depths.

His skin was as tanned as every other cowboy’s she’d met out here. Except Wyatt wasn’t a cowboy who wore chaps and spurs. He was the local sheriff. Lisa didn’t really care what a man did for a living, and she certainly couldn’t fault him for the way he looked in his uniform. It wasn’t his beige shirt that put her off. It wasn’t even his badge. It was his reputation. According to the grapevine in Jasper Gulch, Wyatt McCully didn’t swear, he didn’t drink much and didn’t chew tobacco. Word had it he’d never gotten in trouble in his entire life.

Lisa Markman had been in plenty. She wasn’t ashamed of where she’d been or who she’d become. But she knew what she wanted, what she needed. And she wasn’t going to find it in this office.

“Did you know it’s bad luck to open an umbrella indoors?”

She glanced from her open umbrella straight into his eyes. “Yes, well, Danger is my middle name.”

“Is that a fact?”

Lisa imagined that a lot of female heads had been turned by that deep, rich voice. It was time to let him know he couldn’t turn hers. She pressed a button on her umbrella. By the time she’d smoothed the folds into place, she knew how to put an end to the interest in Wyatt’s eyes.

“Look, sheriff, if I could have handled this myself, I wouldn’t have set foot in this place, but I really need to get my car back. I have a shipment of Western clothes to pick up in Pierre this morning. So, do you think we could get this over with?”

The stiffening of his shoulders was almost imperceptible, and so was the flicker of disappointment way in the back of his eyes. Lisa felt a moment’s remorse because she knew she was responsible for both. But she had to hand it to him; there was no resentment or condescension in his attitude.

She would have preferred it if he hadn’t called attention to his strength and agility by spinning a high-backed chair around with one hand and effortlessly placing it next to his desk, but she couldn’t fault the polite tilt of his head as he motioned for her to take a seat, or the way he moved to the other side of his desk and sat down.

He reached into the bottom drawer and pulled out a form. With pencil in hand, he said, “Let’s start with your full name. First, last and middle initial.”

She handled the first and last names well enough, but before she could tell him her middle initial, her gaze got stuck on his hands, and her mind floundered. He didn’t have the hands of a man who pushed a pencil for a living. His hands were large and callused, his fingers blunt tipped, his knuckles scraped.

“Is your middle initial really D?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“For Danger?“

“It’s D,” she said automatically, “for Destiny.”

Realizing what she’d said, she glanced up and found him watching her. Trying for an even, composed voice, she said, “Really. My name is Lisa Destiny Markman. My parents didn’t like me very much.”

“Why don’t you start at the beginning.”

“The beginning?” she asked.

“When were you born?”

“You want me to start at the beginning of my life?”

“I need your date of birth. For the form.”

“Oh.” She glanced at the sheet of paper in front of him and rattled off the information he’d requested. Being careful not to make any noise releasing the breath she’d been holding, she stared at his down-turned eyes and told herself she was completely unaffected by this man’s quiet presence.

Wyatt jotted down information, checking the proper boxes, filling in the usual blanks. His heart beat a steady rhythm that had nothing to do with procedure. If he’d been with anyone else, he might have laughed to ease the tension in the room, but he glanced up from the form and found Lisa watching him. He couldn’t have laughed if he’d tried.

Being careful not to snap the pencil lead, he said, “What could your parents have possibly found not to like about you?”

She leaned toward him slightly. Tilting her face at a sassy angle, she said, “I know it’s hard to imagine, but I haven’t always been this shy and sweet.”

“You’re right. I do find that hard to believe.”

Wyatt heard her quick intake of breath and saw her eyes widen. He’d surprised her. He was amazed at how much satisfaction the knowledge gave him. However, her discomfiture didn’t last long. She closed her eyes, squared her shoulders and crossed her legs. Her red raincoat fell open, and Wyatt had his first up-close glimpse of her legs. Her ankles were small, her calves slightly muscular, her knees narrow. The skin just below the hem of her red Western skirt looked soft and supple and oh so touchable. His reaction was eager and as predictable as nightfall. By the time he managed to drag his gaze back to her face, she was staring at him knowingly.

She covered her legs with her coat and cast him an arch look that spoke volumes. “Shall we continue?”

Despite the fact that the room had warmed at least ten degrees and the blood seemed to have left his brain and was heading for a place south of there, Wyatt found himself wondering where Lisa Markman had acquired her spunk, her intelligence and her independent spirit. Before him sat a woman who could smile at whim and think on her feet. She was sassy and appealing, and she knew it. There weren’t many things more stimulating than a woman who recognized her own sensuality.

“If you don’t mind, Sheriff, I’d like to get back to the report.”

Wyatt reined in his wayward thoughts and did his best to ignore the pulsing knot that had formed low in his stomach. He asked her pertinent questions and finished filling out the form, an indefinable feeling of rightness growing with every breath he took. Lisa might have turned down his invitation to dinner last night, but she was as aware of the attraction between them as he was.

He would have preferred her to be open about her feelings, but he wasn’t opposed to a woman playing hard to get. Doing everything in his power to keep the smile of anticipation off his face, he turned the form around and indicated the place for her to sign.

She wrote her name with a flourish, then rose to her feet. Rising, too, he said, “We’re not talking about a pie thief here. We’re talking about grand theft auto, and I assure you I’ll do everything in my power to get to the bottom of it and get your car back to you. Now, how about that dinner I mentioned last night?”

He liked the look of genuine surprise that crossed her face, but when she raised her chin a notch, then paused as if she was searching for the proper words, he had a feeling he was in for another letdown. When she finally spoke, it was in a soft, conciliatory tone of voice he didn’t like one bit. “I hope you don’t take offense, Sheriff, but I’m afraid you’re just not my type.”

Wyatt felt his face fall, but she wasn’t finished. “Just so you know, I already have plans for the evening. I promised Butch Brunner I’d drive down to Rosebud to watch him ride a bronco at the rodeo tonight.”

As if she didn’t expect a reply, she turned and strode to the door. Ignoring his earlier warning about bad luck, she opened her umbrella and walked out into the rain.

* * *

Lisa smoothed a wrinkle from the lightweight denim jumper then pressed a tack into the lattice boards that divided the display window from the rest of the store. She knew it was late in the season to try to sell summer clothing, but she was hoping a new display and sale prices would lure the women of Jasper Gulch inside. She wasn’t exactly sure how she was going to get to Pierre to pick up the new fall merchandise, now that she was without a car, but she knew she’d find a way just like she always did.

She was probably the only person in the world who would move more than five hundred miles in order to open a clothing store in a town whose population barely reached five hundred during the worst drought in more than two decades. Still, she’d arrived in mid-July full of high hopes and big plans. Other than a flash-in-the-pan sales frenzy in the days before last month’s town picnic, business hadn’t exactly been booming. But the drought was over, and for now at least, the rain had stopped. Surely that was a good sign.

Melody McCully rapped on the window and waved as she passed by. Since Lisa’s hands were full of tacks and a man’s Western shirt, she gave Melody a wink and a smile that earned her a gesture that would have been unbecoming on anybody else. Lisa’s smile hovered around the edges of her mouth for a long time after she’d turned back to her task.

Mel McCully is nothing like her brother.

She jerked, as much from the thought of Wyatt as from the pain in the tip of the finger that had gotten in the way of one of her strategically placed tacks. Popping her finger into her mouth, she glanced out the window just in time to see Opal Graham and Isabell Pruitt avert their beady eyes and raise their self-righteous little chins.

Lisa recognized the open censure on their faces. For the life of her, she didn’t know what she’d done to deserve it. They hadn’t so much as spoken to her, so how could they possibly dislike her? Surely her hopes and dreams weren’t so much different than theirs had been when they were her age. At thirty, all Lisa wanted was a home, a family, a way to make ends meet and a man to love. When it came to a home, she wasn’t fussy. Any four walls would do. After all, she’d lived in enough places to know that it wasn’t the structure that brought security. She knew exactly what she was looking for in a man. Glancing at the racks and shelves containing everything from men’s work clothes to women’s skirts to children’s play clothes, she knew she could make her store a success, too. She just had to be patient.

The bell over the front door jingled. There, see? The customers are starting to come already. She had a smile ready before she could turn around.

Louetta Graham mumbled a shy greeting then quickly averted her eyes. Glancing at her watch, Lisa toned down the brightness of her smile a little and said, “Goodness, Louetta, I had no idea it was eleven-thirty already. Your arrival is just like clockwork.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you.”

Lisa did everything in her power to soften her smile even more. Honestly, she’d never come across anyone more shy than Opal Graham’s daughter. Every time she saw Louetta, Lisa thought of a stray cat. Maybe it was her drab brown hair; or maybe it was the way she skirted the edges of a room to keep from coming face-to-face with anyone.

“Well. Um. I guess I’ll be going,” she whispered, her eyes on the old brown floorboards at her feet.

“You don’t have to go,” Lisa murmured. “You’re more than welcome to browse. Business has been kind of slow lately, and I look forward to your visits to my store.”

“You do?”

Lisa nodded.

“I’m glad, because coming here is the highlight of my day.”

Louetta flushed, and Lisa hid a smile to herself. Those were the most words she’d heard Louetta string together since she’d started coming here at exactly eleven-thirty a.m. five days ago.

According to Melody, Louetta was thirty-three years old. She looked older and acted younger. She was a little taller than Lisa, which would probably make her about the same height as Jillian, who was five-seven. Although it was difficult to tell underneath those long, baggy skirts and loose-fitting, high-collared blouses, Louetta probably had an ample bosom and long legs. The woman was as plain as plain could be, but she really was sweet.

“Is there anything I could help you find?” Lisa asked.

“Oh, no,” Louetta said hurriedly. “I’m just looking.”

“You just go right ahead and look to your heart’s content.”

Fifteen minutes later, Lisa had finished straightening the display of men’s jeans and Louetta was working her way toward the front of the store. Reaching for a hanger, Lisa said, “One day soon I’ll be getting in my new merchandise. I’d planned to pick it up today, but it looks like I’m going to have to make other arrangements.”

“Yes,” Louetta said, nodding for all she was worth. “I heard about your car. I feel really bad, too. Now Mother and Isabell are going to be able to tell everyone ‘I told you so.’”

Louetta’s hazel eyes grew round seconds before a blush climbed up her face. Covering her cheeks with her hands, she said, “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Thrusting her hands to her hips, Lisa said, “Now Louetta, you haven’t told me anything I didn’t already know. I was sitting right there when old Isabell stood up at the town meeting last night.” Doing her best impression of a person with nasal problems, Lisa raised one finger and spouted, “‘Ill will come of that advertisement luring women to our peaceful town. Harlots and women of ill repute, that’s what that ad will draw. Mark my words.’”

Louetta’s eyes grew large. “Doesn’t that hurt your feelings?”

Dropping her hands to her sides, Lisa shrugged. “You know what they say about sticks and stones breaking bones.”

Lisa followed Louetta’s gaze to the toes of her sensible shoes. “I think that that saying is all wrong. I think names really can hurt. Well,” she added in a voice that was so quiet Lisa had to strain to hear, “I have to get back to the library.”

The bell over the door jingled when Louetta left, but Lisa stayed where she was, lost in thought. People had a way of amazing her. They always had. She remembered one educational summer she’d spent waitressing in an elite restaurant in Chicago. She’d made more in tips in one night than she made in an entire week anywhere else. The men who dined there wore suits a person simply didn’t find at the mall, and the women wore gowns, not dresses. They had everything: education, sophistication and money. At first sight they were the most beautiful people Lisa had ever seen. But by dessert their true colors usually reared, and it wasn’t a pretty picture. The contrast between those men and women and Louetta Graham was truly amazing. What was even more amazing was the fact that someone who was as plain as day could say something so profound that her true beauty began to emerge.

I think names really can hurt.

Louetta was right. Names were words, and words wielded incredible power. They could nurture, they could heal, and they could destroy. They were so important they even had a constitutional amendment to protect them. It was too bad folks didn’t have the same kind of protection from the people who used words in a harmful, hurtful way.

Glancing at her quiet store with all its racks of blue jeans and Western shirts, Lisa wondered if she’d hurt Wyatt’s feelings when she’d so blatantly told him he wasn’t her type. She hadn’t said it to hurt him. She’d only wanted to set him straight where she was concerned. Unfortunately, the fact that she’d had good intentions didn’t make it right. Wyatt McCully hadn’t said or done anything to warrant her curt attitude. He hadn’t really even said or done anything to lead her to believe he was interested in her in more than a friendly way. It wasn’t his fault her hormones went on red alert every time she looked at him. So he’d asked her to dinner. There was no law against that. Thirteen other bachelors had done the same thing, and she hadn’t gotten all bristly with them.

Wyatt was an honorable, steadfast man, which was exactly why he wasn’t her type. Still, if she had it to do over again, she would handle the situation in a way that wouldn’t hurt such a nice, kind, patient man’s feelings.

A horn blared out on the street. Lisa peeked around her new display just in time to see a patrol car pull up to the curb. Behind the wheel that nice, kind, patient man she had just been thinking about was laying on the horn.

She was out of the store in an instant. Leaning down in order to peer through the open window on the passenger side of the car, she said, “Wyatt, what in the world are you doing?”

“Get in.”

“What?” she asked.

“Get in.”

“Now why would I want to do that?”

His eyes darkened as he held her gaze. “Because I have business in Pierre and I figured you might as well ride along to pick up your merchandise.”

“I see.”

“I highly doubt that. I’ll give you a ride to Pierre. And like I said before, I have every intention of getting your car back for you. Since I doubt that’ll happen by tonight, you’ll have to find another ride down to the rodeo in Rosebud, because that’s where I draw the line.”

Lisa hadn’t expected Wyatt to be the type who drew invisible lines. She hadn’t expected him to be the type who didn’t let a person get a word in edgewise, either. But evidently he was on a roll.

“I’m supposed to be in Pierre in thirty minutes. And it’s a forty-minute drive. Are you coming?”

He didn’t say, “Or aren’t you?” but he might as well have. She stared at him for a full five seconds, amazed to find that the good sheriff had an ornery side.

Much to her surprise, she grinned. With a mock salute and her famous wink, she called, “Aye-aye, sir.”

Still smiling, she dashed away to get her purse and lock the store.

Lisa glanced over her shoulder at the boxes stacked in the back of the cruiser, then settled herself more comfortably in her seat. The check she’d written to pay for the new merchandise had nearly scraped the bottom of her bank account. But her rent was paid through the end of the year, and if she watched her spending, she might be able to make it until the store started showing a profit.

Keeping her fingers wrapped firmly around the hair at her nape, she turned her face into the warm air streaming through the open window and watched the scenery going by. This was definitely ranching country. The land was mostly flat, with occasional rolling hills dotted with small herds of cattle. The ranch houses were few and far between, rough-hewn fences and telephone poles stretching as far as the eye could see.

From the corner of her eye she saw Wyatt shift in his seat and rotate a kink out of his shoulders. She’d done everything in her power to cajole him out of his dark mood. So far she hadn’t been successful. That was unusual. People almost always responded to her sultry laughs and brash smiles. Evidently, the good sheriff was holding a grudge.

Trying to fill the silence stretching between them, she pointed to a gray wall of clouds on the horizon. “It looks like another thunderstorm is forming.”

He made a sound that meant yes, then fell silent once again. Lisa wanted to scream. She’d heard of yup and nope talkers, but this was ridiculous. Trying again, she said, “That’s good, isn’t it? Those clouds have a lot of dry weather to make up for. Maybe the ranchers out here won’t starve this winter after all. Maybe I won’t, either.”

She felt his eyes on her, but by the time she turned her head, he was watching the road again, his fingers looped around the steering wheel. Releasing a pent-up breath of air, she said, “No, business hasn’t really been very good. It’s so kind of you to ask.”

Wyatt bit down on the inside of one cheek, doing everything in his power to hold on to his vexation. Not that Lisa was making it easy. She’d been sultry and warm and more than a little brash since the moment they’d pulled away from the curb in front of her store an hour and a half ago. Whether she believed him or not, he had a lot on his mind.

Earlier he’d driven to her place on Elm Street to take a look around. The rain had washed away any tire tracks there might have been in the gravel driveway, but there was one faint impression left in the mud by a cowboy boot. Wyatt had measured it against his own foot. Although the print was smaller than his size twelve boots, it wasn’t much help. Other than Clayt and Luke, practically every man in the county had a smaller boot size than his. Lisa’s neighbors hadn’t seen or heard anything out of the ordinary. Whoever had taken that car hadn’t left many clues. Wyatt had been giving the matter a great deal of thought. People out here just didn’t steal cars. Or at least they never had. Why would someone steal Lisa’s?

He’d been giving the curt little declaration she’d made concerning his invitation to dinner a lot of thought, too. She had a smile that could warm him twenty degrees and a laugh that took his fantasies to another level entirely. And her body, well. She filled out her shirt to perfection, and he’d bet his badge that every last inch of her was the real thing. He’d lain awake imagining how her breasts would feel beneath his hands, his mouth. Wyatt McCully wasn’t exactly a ladies’ man, but no matter what she said, no matter what she claimed, the attraction between them was mutual.

“You know, Wyatt,” she grumbled, “although I truly appreciate the ride into Pierre and the little lunch you treated me to, this trip would go a lot faster if you’d keep up your end of the conversation.”

He glanced at her, and found her looking out the window. One hand was on her seat belt, the other was holding her hair in a low ponytail at her nape. The breeze streaming through the window toyed with the strands surrounding her face. He liked the way the wind pressed her plain white T-shirt against her body, but he had to admit he liked her straightforwardness just as much.

“Okay.”

She turned her head slowly. “What do you mean ‘okay’?” she asked, suspicion raising her voice and widening her eyes.

He managed to keep a smile off his face, because she had every reason to be suspicious. “Okay,” he repeated. “I’ll see what I can do about keeping up my end of the conversation.”

“You will?”

He nodded. He didn’t see any harm in talking. In fact, talking might just lead to a little insight and a lot of understanding.

Turning off the highway near Capa, he said, “Do you have any theories as to why business hasn’t been very good so far?”

“The economy hasn’t exactly been the greatest since I moved to town, you know? I think the drought has made everyone leery of spending a dollar they might need to feed their families next winter.”

Wyatt hadn’t realized he’d gripped the steering wheel tighter, but Lisa must have noticed because she was watching him closely. This time his silence hadn’t been intentional. He was always quiet when he crossed the bridge spanning the Bad River. Today, the river wasn’t the only thing on his mind.

Wyatt was a rancher’s son and a rancher’s grandson. He’d grown up in a family that had relied on elements like rain and snow and bottomed-out beef prices to make a living. He’d gone without new shoes and new clothes on more than one occasion. To this day, he remembered how his father used to say, “You can wear secondhand clothes, but you can’t eat secondhand food.”

Most of the folks out here had their priorities firmly in order. Even though Lisa hadn’t been here long, she’d put her finger on the pulse that made these people who they were. He didn’t know why, but the fact that she seemed to understand them on an instinctive, fundamental level made his heart feel two sizes larger.

Pointing to a place a hundred yards downstream, he said, “My parents drowned on the other side of that bend in the river.”

Wyatt clamped his mouth shut. For crying out loud, where had that come from? He sure hadn’t intended to tell her that. He wanted a response from her, but he wasn’t looking for sympathy, not by a long shot.

“Do you want to tell me how it happened?” she asked.

He tried to square his shoulders against her allure, but he made the mistake of looking into her eyes, and he was lost. Aw, hell. Now that he’d brought it up, there wasn’t much else he could do except finish it. Staring straight ahead, he said, “They were crossing an old bridge after a spring downpour. The river was dangerously high, but my mother was sick, and my father was trying to get her to the clinic in Pierre. The river took out the bridge, and them with it.”

Wyatt had been eleven that year. Since then, he’d experienced a lot of important days in his life. The day he graduated from high school, the day he first pinned on his badge, the day he stood up as Clayt’s best man. But he’d never experienced another day that was as vivid and clear in his mind as that day had been.

“What were they like?”

“They were honest, hardworking folks. My father’s name was Joe, my mother’s was Eleanor. Everyone called her Ellie. They were good people, and like most ranchers around here, they were used to doing without. I guess some things never change. The bachelors can attest to that. We’ve certainly had to get used to doing without, and I can’t think of anybody who’s happy about it, except maybe Isabell.”

Lisa laughed. It was the last thing he’d expected her to do, but it made him feel a little taller, a little broader. Her laugh was deep, throaty, sexy. It let him know that she was well aware of exactly what it was he’d been doing without.

“I’m sorry, Wyatt. I don’t mean to seem irreverent about what happened to your parents. Tragedy has a way of shaping us, forever changing us. It’s just that I think you’re right. Old Isabell is probably as pleased as punch about your, er, predicament.”

Heat crept through him. He knew where it came from, and he knew where it was headed. He hadn’t been exaggerating. The nights out here had grown longer and lonelier with every passing month. In its heyday some thirty years ago, Jasper Gulch had had more than seven hundred residents. With the steady departure of its single women these past three decades, the number barely reached five hundred today. Sixty-two of the current residents were bachelors between the ages of twenty and seventy-five. Until Lisa and Jillian’s arrival last month, and a handful of single women since, there had only been six marriageable women.

Feeling her eyes on him, he said, “Then you believe me when I say we’ve suffered?”

She turned her head, but not before he saw her smile. “Oh, I believe you. I’m just a little surprised so many women left, that’s all.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, there aren’t many job prospects out here, other than becoming a rancher’s wife, that is. The girls who left didn’t want the seclusion of a rancher’s life. They wanted more.”

“I’m surprised at least one of them didn’t want you.”

Lisa clamped her lips together, thinking her mouth was going to be the death of her yet. It had gotten her into a lot of trouble over the years. Until about five seconds ago, she’d thought she’d outgrown it. Since there wasn’t much she could do except look at Wyatt to gauge his reaction, she turned her head.

She was in trouble all right. His eyes had closed partway and had warmed to a darker shade of brown. One corner of his mouth lifted, creasing one lean cheek. If she’d been a woman who played games, she would have touched that crease with the back of her finger. But she hadn’t come all the way to Jasper Gulch to play games. She came to start over and to find a man like her.

No matter how interested Wyatt was, no matter how that interest made her feel, she knew what she had to do. This time she’d do it in a way that didn’t hurt his feelings.

She was still trying to find the proper words when he said, “Now that you know about my past, how about telling me about yours?”

Lisa’s mind cleared, and her objectivity returned. She’d been searching frantically for a way to put an end to his interest once and for all. Unknowingly he’d handed her the perfect opportunity. Now if she could just bring herself to talk about her least favorite subject in all the world.

Pretending to watch the scenery going by, she said, “What would you like to know?”