More Than a Mission (10 page)

And somehow, he couldn't imagine the Sparrow allowing herself the luxury of tears. Which just confused him even more. Elizabeth's words and actions contradicted what he had expected.

Again he told himself to remember that the Sparrow was likely a sociopath and perfectly capable of such a deception. Walker would remind him of that. He suspected the earpiece he still wore had exceeded the range for transmission back to the hotel. A shame. If Walker had been listening in, he might have been able to get a better read on Elizabeth.

Elizabeth, he thought and examined her again. The pale-pink scarf securing her hair matched the polka dots in her shirt. The color brought out the hints of red in her lush hair. The wind was tossing about the few strands that had escaped the scarf. She must have sensed him watching her for she glanced his way for a moment before returning her attention to the road.

“What's so interesting?” she asked, seemingly uncomfortable with his perusal.

“You. You're beautiful,” he said, wanting to change the mood that had taken over since their earlier discussion. Hoping that change would lead to other things. He told himself that was what was necessary for him to break down her barriers and really determine what was going on with her.

But it wasn't a lie that he found her…
attractive
wasn't quite the right word. She was…stunning. Interesting. A woman with multiple layers he wanted to peel back. He suspected that so far he had only managed to scrape the first few layers.

She smiled and a touch of pink in a shade darker than her scarf stained her cheeks. Sparing him yet another glance, she said, “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

Grinning, he replied, “Only the pretty ones.”

E
lizabeth drove around a bend in the road that led out of the woods and to the first of her regular stops. Up ahead, another car was already parked at one side of the road while along the other, a fence kept an assortment of goats and cows in an emerald-colored pasture thick with summer grass.

She slowed as she pulled up behind the other car, and Aidan asked, “Is this where we're shopping?”

“We call it ‘hedge veg,'” she explained and parked the Gaston along the side of the road.

“‘Hedge veg?'” Aidan repeated and cocked his head to the side in question. “Is that like the Silvershire version of green markets?”

She shook her head and tucked a few loose strands of hair back. “It's not just greens and typically, we don't stop at markets. Come with me and you'll see.”

Not waiting for his reply, since at this point he was basically her captive audience, she slipped from the car and walked to meet him where he waited by the chromed front bumper of the Gaston. As she approached, he offered his arm and touched by the chivalrous gesture, she eased her arm through his. They strolled past the other parked auto and toward a modest covered stand by the side of the road and in front of a well-kept farmhouse. A man who had apparently just made a purchase strolled past them, bag in hand.

“Hi, Addy,” she called out once they were closer to the stand.

The older gray-haired woman behind the counter smiled broadly and walked around to give her an enthusiastic hug and Aidan an inquisitive look.

“And this would be?” Addy asked as she shook Aidan's hand.

“Aidan. I'm Elizabeth's new bartender.”

Once again, Addy's look was speculative as it passed from Aidan and back to her, but she ignored it. “What do you have for me today?”

Addy grabbed her hand and nearly dragged her over to the counter. “The goat cheese is out of this world today and the husband just finished up a batch of mozzarella,” she said and motioned to the samples spread out on the table.

Elizabeth first tasted the goat cheese. Creamy, with a full-bodied flavor. She scooped up another bit on a cracker and offered it up to Aidan, who had come to stand beside her.

He opened his mouth and she popped it in. After chewing, he nodded emphatically. “That's good.”

Next, they sampled the mozzarella. Still warm from the vats where it was prepared, the cheese had a rich creamy flavor, milder than the goat cheese and with a firmer consistency. She smiled at Addy to show her approval and said, “I'll take a dozen each of both these cheeses if you have that many. Only, I'm not headed straight back to town. I could pick them up tomorrow….”

Addy waved off her suggestion. “Not to worry, luv. My George has to pop into town during the morning, so he can drop them off.”

“Thanks so much. In the meantime, we'll need something for a picnic lunch. How about the…” She glanced over at Aidan and waited for him to make the selection.

He shrugged, seemingly unsure at first, but then he pointed to the goat cheese.

“Great choice,” she confirmed, and Addy quickly wrapped up a round of the cheese in some grape leaves, dropped it into a bag, and passed it to Aidan to carry.

“You two have a nice day now,” the older woman called out as they returned to the car.

Aidan tucked the bag into the space behind the front seats that arguably passed for a back seat. It brought a memory to Elizabeth of her and Dani crammed onto that narrow leather bench as young girls while her family did the hedge veg together.

She was smiling as she eased behind the wheel and Aidan must have noticed it, for he said, “Penny for your thoughts.”

“Only a penny?” she teased, starting up the car and steering it back onto the main road.

Aidan examined her face carefully, wondering what had put that enigmatic smile there. It was a smile filled with pleasure, but also with a hint of…nostalgia. Surprisingly, he knew the thought wasn't one about him, although how he could read her that well, he didn't know.

Or maybe she was just acting once again. She
was
the Sparrow after all. Or at least, that's what he forced himself to remember.

The next stop was barely a few miles away: a farmhouse where the yeasty aromas of fresh-baked bread wafted all the way to the roadside. As before, there was a stand and this time, a few other patrons were already lined up for the homemade wares.

Just as at the other location, the older woman behind the counter was clearly pleased to see Elizabeth, but then again he told himself, why wouldn't she be glad to see someone who was probably a good customer? Although, as with Addy, there appeared to be something more personal there, which was confirmed when at one point, the two women stepped to the side and Elizabeth eased her arm over the older women's shoulders.

A more serious discussion obviously ensued. Definitely one that wasn't about the assortment of breads and rolls the woman had for sale. At the end of the conversation, the two exchanged an emotion-packed hug before returning to the stand where the woman placed a number of different rolls in a brown paper bag.

Elizabeth paid her, grabbed the bag and handed it to him. “So I'm the bag man, is that it?”

She grinned at him playfully and nudged his shoulder with a closed fist. “You've got to earn your lunch somehow.”

He bit back a rather risque comment on how he could earn that lunch.

With a nod, he followed her back to the car, tucked away their purchase and they were off to another stop and then another and another. It took hours to run from one roadside stand to another, sampling the assorted items available for sale. At one small farm that barely looked inhabited, a rough-hewn ramshackle table held a meager sampling of thumb-sized pear-shaped tomatoes. Beside what was left of the tomatoes, a basket contained some money, obviously payment for prior purchases.

Elizabeth perused the tomatoes, selected a few dozen, and deposited some bills into the basket.

“How do you know that's not too much money?” he asked, and then quickly added, “And how does the farmer know people will pay?”

“Dan, the farmer, he's a bit shy. But he knows people will pay for what they take. It's the honor system.”

“The honor system,” he repeated, but unfortunately couldn't keep the tone of disbelief from his voice.

Elizabeth smiled and shook her head. “Mr. Rawlings, you've clearly seen your share of places where things are…different. In Silvershire, we are simpler. Some things, like honor, still exist.”

With that, she walked back to the car, her bag of tomatoes in hand.

He watched her go, intrigued. Perplexed. From their earlier conversation to this one, from the way everyone they met interacted with her, Elizabeth was clearly well-liked and respected, trusted and, last but not least, honorable.

Aidan forced himself to remember that even amongst thieves honor existed.

Back in the car, Elizabeth advised they would make one more stop before heading to a special place for a quick bite. That last location was a vineyard within sight of the water. “Hector makes a wicked collection of pinots. It has to do with the way the coastal fog covers the grapes in the morning and the way the blackthorn and other wild berry bushes surround the vineyard,” Elizabeth explained as she drove.

“Is this the ever-requested Lionshead wine?” he asked and Elizabeth nodded as she steered down a short winding road lined by brambly bushes—probably the berries Elizabeth had mentioned.

At the end of the road was a stone building, similar in size and construction to Elizabeth's restaurant—a one-story building made of stone and covered by vines in spots. After they parked the car in the crushed-seashell-covered lot, they walked to the open door of the building.

Inside there were two long counters with some smaller tables and chairs before them—a tasting room from the looks of it, he thought, recalling one Mitch had dragged them to many years earlier during a layover in California's Napa Valley.

“Hector? Are you open?” Elizabeth called out and walked toward the counters.

A man immediately popped out of the back room. Once he realized it was Elizabeth, a broad smile came to his face.
“Mi amiga,”
he said, arms opened wide as he strode toward her.

“
Como estas,
Hector?” She embraced the handsome man. He was maybe in his mid thirties and attractive if you liked the dark swarthy types, he thought and bit back the little pang of jealousy.

Hector shot a glance at him. An unfriendly one confirming to Aidan that maybe the feeling was mutual. “And this is?” Hector asked after releasing Elizabeth and walking to one of the long counters, where he picked up a bottle and opened it, removing first the foil seal at the top and after, the cork.

Elizabeth held her hand out to Aidan. He slipped his hand into hers and sat next to her at the counter as she said, “This is Aidan. My new bartender.”

“Oh,” Hector said, but made no effort to take the introduction beyond that. Instead, he placed a glass before each of them and said, “Try my new vintage.”

Pouring a bit of wine into each glass, he waited for Elizabeth to offer her comments.

Aidan just picked up the wineglass and took a large sip, earning a murderous glare from Hector. Elizabeth on the other hand, held the glass up to the light, then tilted it on its side. “Good color and tone.”

Placing the glass on the counter, she grabbed the stem and rotated it to swirl the wine. Once the wine had settled down, she picked up the glass and sniffed the wine. “Wonderful robust bouquet.”

With more of a slurp than a sip, she finally sampled it. “Exceptional, Hector. You can really taste the berries. Mostly…blackberry?” she questioned.

Hector enthusiastically confirmed her guess. “So, you like?”

Nodding, she said, “I like, a lot. Can I get a case delivered to the restaurant and one bottle for now?”

Glancing in Aidan's direction as he realized he would likely be the imbiber of the single bottle of wine, Hector glared at him again, but Aidan merely smiled at the man.

With a grumble beneath his breath about wine heathens, Hector stalked into the back room and a few seconds later, emerged with the single bottle, which he lovingly entrusted to Elizabeth. “Enjoy it,
amiga,
” he said, but all the time he scowled at Aidan.

Elizabeth leaned over the counter and gave Hector a friendly kiss, seemingly unaware of what was going on between him and Aidan. As they exited the tasting room, she met his gaze and smiled. “Ready for that late lunch?”

Aidan shot a quick peek at his watch and realized it was nearly four. “A very late lunch. Possibly early dinner.”

She stopped and checked her own watch. “I'm sorry. Time just seemed to fly. Would you rather return to town?”

He stood before her. She looked so troubled that he needed to ease her discomfort. Cupping her cheek, he ran his finger along the smooth skin there, which had a touch of color—the kiss of the sun from their drive. “I've had a great time so far. It's been…enlightening.”

An odd choice of words, Elizabeth thought as she examined him. He seemed sincere enough about having enjoyed the day so far, and so she said, “All right, then. We're off to lunch.”

Back behind the wheel of the car, she continued onward to the coast road and turned in the direction of Leonia. As she drove, she alternated glances between the coastline to her right, the road before her and Aidan in the passenger seat. He was looking toward her and then past her to the rugged shoreline.

It took another fifteen minutes or so to reach the spot. Her spot. One free of ghosts.

She had discovered it one day many years back during one of her hedge-veg runs. Pulling the car over to a switchback along the coast side of the road, she parked the Gaston and faced Aidan. “Ready?”

He confirmed, “Ready.”

She leaned into the back of the car and grabbed just a few of the packages stored there and handed them to Aidan. “I just need to get something from the back,” she said.

They both stepped out of the car, but he waited by the front fender while she went to the back. Opening the trunk, she removed the blanket and picnic basket her mother had always kept there for an impromptu stop. She slipped the blanket under one arm and grabbed the basket with that hand. Walking toward Aidan, she offered him her other hand and he took hold of it.

Hand in hand they walked down the grass-covered slope until they were at its rocky edge. Once there, they paused for a moment to appreciate the view. To the left were the imposing palisades and rugged shoreline of Silvershire's North Coast. To the right, Leonia Bay with the sister towns of Leonia and Tiberia nestled at its foot. In the bay, sailboats and fishermen's boats travelled to and fro, or put out to sea.

“Beautiful,” he said, but as their gazes met, it was clear he wasn't referring to the view.

The intensity of his interest created a funny little feeling inside her. Bolstered by that feeling, she smiled at him, took a step closer and cradled his cheek. Beneath her palm there was the rasp of his evening beard and the warmth of his skin. She ran her finger along that beard and then to the edge of his lips, fascinated by them. By him.