Distant Obsession (12 page)

The jeep hit a bump and began to fishtail. Knowing better than to slam on the brakes, she eased off the accelerator and guided the vehicle to the side of the road. The tires hit a patch of loose gravel, again swerving awkwardly. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel, maintaining as much control as she could muster. Slowly, she brought her foot to the brake but not before sideswiping the guardrail twice. The car responded and came to rest against the metal barrier. “Damn!”

She leaned her forehead against the steering wheel to collect her thoughts. After a brief moment, Lilah sat back and undid her seatbelt. Another driver pulled in front of the Jeep about twenty yards away and a man got out. His purposeful stride seemed far too aggressive. A baseball cap hid the color of his hair and shadowed his features. At her studious regard, he quickened his pace. Apprehension made her grab the cell from her purse.

Nervous fingers fumbled for the number pad. She had just punched in 911 when the man turned on his heel, ran to his late model sedan, and sped off. She set down the phone without hitting send.

I wonder why he spooked like that?

A tap on her window made her jump and gasp.

She sagged in relief when Reece’s face popped into view. She unlocked the door and allowed him to open it before stepping outside.

“Are you all right?”

“Much better, thank you.” She sagged against the fender, relief making her unsteady.

“I saw the trailer fishtail. You handled it well.”

“I – I feel drained.” She pushed away from the jeep and studied the hitch. “The safety lock isn’t engaged. I’m always so cautious about attaching the trailer.”

Reece’s attention was focused elsewhere. “That’s not your only problem.”

She came around the other side and followed the trail of his gaze. “Damn. A flat tire.”

“Looks like you ran it against a scrap piece of metal. The sidewall is ruined so you’ll need a new tire.” He studied the spare with a grim expression. “Looks like your spare isn’t all that much better.”

“What am I going to do now?”

“Where were you headed?”

“The Asel Fruit Fest. I have a booth there.” Tears caught at the back of her throat. What else could go wrong today? For that matter, what else could go wrong this week?

“This is your lucky day.”

Luck?
He had strange ideas about luck if he thought a near wreck and a flat tire fortuitous.

The engaging smile he sent calmed her frayed nerves. “I’m headed for the same place. I’ve got a hitch on the back of my truck so I can pull your trailer. I can also remove the flat and drop it at Andrew’s garage on the way. Your car should be safe enough here until we come back this evening with the repaired tire.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You don’t think I’d leave a damsel in distress, do you?”

“But I’ve been nothing but rude to you. It would serve me right.” Now was the moment of truth. The opportunity to spill her guts grew stronger each moment in his company. He seemed like a forgiving sort. Surely he would understand.

He gave her a lazy grin. “I’m sure we can figure out some way for you to pay me back.”

Picking up on his flirtatious suggestion, she answered in kind. “I’m sure you already have some ideas, don’t you?”

“Just a few.” He winked then nodded toward the jeep. “Come on. Pull your jeep forward slowly so you don’t damage the rim. I’ll move my truck in front of the trailer and get you all hooked up before dealing with the tire. You might be a little late for your shindig, but these things happen.”

She glanced down the road where the other car had pulled in front, thankful Reece had come along when he had. The man was probably just like Reece, a good Samaritan willing to help. He must have seen Reece approach first and gracefully retreated. Yes, that’s what had happened. To think otherwise left her feeling vulnerable and broken inside.

Thirteen

Reece swore silently and brought the wounded finger to his mouth. He’d gotten it caught when he’d set the hitch because his mind had been elsewhere, like on a curvy brunette with a pert nose, light smattering of freckles, and the most gorgeous green eyes he’d ever seen. He finished locking down the hitch and climbed into the cab, grateful fate had been so kind.

She was already belted in and staring out the window into space.

He pulled onto the road, wracking his brain for an ice-breaker. The woman who’d consumed much of his thoughts lately was finally in the seat next to his, and he found himself at a loss for words. On the other hand, she wasn’t offering any stimulating verbiage either.

The first five minutes of silence Reece could deal with, but he’d reached his threshold.

Can’t connect if we don’t share. Guess I’ll have to pull it out gently.

“Do you like it here in the Tri cities?”

“Yes, I do.”

Come on, keep going, you need to work with me, Lilah.

“I’ll bet the vistas and wonder of our country life is replete with opportunities for an artist.”

She aligned her body away from the rigid iron clad stare out the window, slightly redirecting toward the driver. “Yes. There are so many beautiful scenes, the mountains, the sunrises, the farmland with the antique barns and homes, even the animals have offered themselves for my canvas.”

Good, keep it up.

“Are you selling in any of the galleries, or just at the shows?”

This time she turned ninety degrees and faced him directly. “Both. I found a place in Johnson City that took my work on consignment. Rose, the owner suggested showing at the various festivals, but I was hesitant. I talked to Mrs. Taylor, the older lady at the post office. She does wreaths and dried flowers on the side to help pay for her son’s college. Well, her excitement got me to thinking and…”

Reece grinned. The passenger he wanted as a friend, and more, had come alive. She was filling the air between them, sharing her interest, her happy thoughts, and the exchange with a woman that reflected true feminine charm flushed across his senses.

“… by the third show, I learned the ropes of the festival circuit, and my sells had increased to a point I was actually making a profit. Another store contacted me last week with interest, and…well. Let’s just say, I can’t keep up with demand.”

“And that’s a good thing, right?”

She giggled. “Of course. That’s what I’ve wanted for a very long time. I thought a year ago I’d finally found success, then everything…” She turned her head and stared out the window at the passing scenery.

No, please, Lilah. Don’t run back into your hole, stay out here with me and play.

He intentionally shifted the direction of the chitchat. “Strange the way that trailer came loose. Do you remember securing the lock?”

She popped back out of the burrow. “Yes, I’m sure of it. Even Ashley’s friend, Scott, checked it for me.”

“Is Ashley a friend?”

“No, she’s my sister.”

“Oh, I see. It’s her cabin; you’re staying with her.”

“No, actually it was my mother’s. She passed away two years ago, and we inherited it together.”

“Old Ms. Johnson was your mother? My Lord, I knew her. What a sweet lady. I used to stop by her dock when I was headed out of the creek. She’d wave me over from time to time and invite me up for coffee, cookies, and peach pie. Oh my God, did she make the best pies.”

“Really.” Again she presented a full frontal view, only this time she drew her left leg up onto the seat until it almost touched his.

“Sorry I didn’t make the connection before. Of course. Lilah the artist, and Ashley, the wild girl. Ms. Johnson would talk about you two all the time.”

“She did?”

“Yes, that was the central focus of our discussions. Sometimes I sensed she was trying to, you know…”

”What?”

“I’ve had a lot of mothers push blind dates with their daughter, so many I’m gun sly. Kind of wish I would have listened in your case.”

“Really?”

He crossed his chest with a finger in the shape of a cross. “Scouts honor. She always beamed when discussing her special gifted one, the artist that could paint through the eyes of God.”

Lilah’s visage turned reflective. “I never knew she felt so strongly about my artwork. Both parents wanted me to study something other than art when I was at college. Guess they figured there was no money to be made with that profession.”

“But you proved them wrong.” He smiled. “At first, I figured it was just a parent’s pride, but now that I’ve sampled you’re work, she wasn’t exaggerating one bit. In all our talks, though she never used the words, it was clear to me she took special pride from her daughter, the artist. On the other hand, it was you sister who caused her sleepless nights.”

She stretched her arm across the top of the seat. “Yes, I worry about her too; Mom and I often discussed Ash’s poor judgment.”

“Ms. Johnson said your sister had a tendency to hook up fast and furious, the wilder the better.”

Lilah released a laugh that reflected warmth and a joy that the shadows of her current situation had been blown away by his words. “My sister can definitely be a handful at times, but she did it mostly to irritate my mother. Most of her antics were quite harmless.”

She patted the top of the seat twice in rhythm with the song playing on the radio. “Thank you so much, Reece.”

“For what?”

“For exposing me to emotions and thoughts from my mother that I never realized before. Really makes me feel good inside. You know what I mean?”

“I see her in your eyes, your cute cheeks. She was a beautiful woman with tons of heart, like her first born.”

“That’s so kind.”

“No biggy, I was lucky to know Mrs. Johnson. In a weird way, she substituted emotions I never had.”

“What do you mean?”

“My relationship with my parents was, well clearly not as good as yours.”

“In what way?”

“Sorry, Lilah, like you I’m not ready to share secrets. You can understand, right?”

She nodded with an empathic countenance. “Yes I can Reece, yes I can.”

He released a mild chortle. “Now I understand, completely.”

“What?”

“The joint spying incident was with your sister, not you. I owe you an apology. I just assumed. You’re so close in appearance, and I really only saw her lower…well, anyway sorry about the confusion.”

She risked a gesture; a soft touch of his shoulder. Only her fingertips, a mild, insignificant signal to the common observer, but quite relevant to a man and a woman uncertain of the new territory they were venturing into. “No, it’s me that should apologize, again.”

“You? What the hell for?”

“I was terribly rude, not friendly at all. First at the donut shop when I almost slammed the door in your face and later spilled coffee on your shoes. Then again, when you came over and introduced yourself.”

“I will admit, both times I thought I’d lost the magic.”

“The what?”