“I know it sounds ridiculous, but there was something about him that made me think he was Danny. I need to know what it was. I have to be sure it’s not him.”
“Then I’ll go with you,” Collin said, grabbing his coat from where he’d dropped it and shrugging it on. “Come on, let’s get this over with.” She didn’t move except to shake her head. He stopped to look at her. “Why not?”
She couldn’t explain it. “I need to see him alone.”
Collin took a step back. “You’re kidding, right?” He shook his head angrily. “Are you trying to get out of the engagement? Is that what this is about?”
“No, that’s not—”
“It sure seems that way,” he said as he yanked off his coat and threw it on the spare bed again. “So, go. Go see him. Go satisfy your curiosity. When the part comes in for the car tomorrow and Fred gets it fixed, we’re out of here. A plow came through earlier, so at least one road must be open. But there is another storm coming behind this one. We’ll have a window of opportunity. We can’t miss it.” He stilled, his gaze sliding to her. “Tell me this isn’t going to happen again in the next town or the next.”
She mugged a face at him, and his expression fell as he came over to squat down in front of her. “Baby, I love you. But you have to put Danny behind you for good. This is a new beginning for both of us. I need to know that you’re in it one hundred percent with me—not some ghost.”
Her heart ached at the hurt she saw in his eyes. She cupped his handsome face in her palms. She hated that she was putting him through this. Leaning forward, she kissed him. “I’m sorry. Once I’m sure—”
His cell rang, and she withdrew her hands from his face as he rose to reach for his phone. “Yeah,” he said into it and turned to her, mouthing that he’d take it outside.
Kate picked up one of the books she’d bought at the store. She opened it, read the first page and then realized she couldn’t recall what it was about. Her mind was on Jon Harper.
Rising, she went to the window. Collin had walked down past the row of motel rooms to a covered area out of the wind. He was pacing as he talked, which meant it was business.
She grabbed her coat and stepped outside the room. Collin had his back to her as she turned the opposite direction to walk down the highway toward the workshop. She had to get this over with; then she could leave this town and never look back.
The snow was falling so hard and fast that when she looked behind her, she could no longer see Collin and could barely make out the motel’s vacancy sign. She walked faster. She desperately wanted this over, needed this over. Once she looked into Jon Harper’s eyes, she would know. She would apologize for frightening him yesterday and for acting so strangely. She would assure him that she wouldn’t bother him again.
Then, she could leave this town having no doubts. No regrets.
She trudged down the short alley through the deep snow, her eyes on the carriage-house doors. Both were closed. Was there still a light coming from the narrow crack between them? What if he wasn’t there?
The thought made her heart pound. She couldn’t wait another minute, let alone leave town without seeing him again. If the part came in early, Collin would insist on them driving out ahead of the next storm.
She’d reached the double doors and pushed on the one that had been partially open yesterday. It gave way so quickly, that she almost fell headfirst into the workshop again. She stumbled in a few feet, caught herself and stopped.
He was standing in the opposite doorway, silhouetted against the falling snow behind him. His hands were empty and at his sides. She noticed the breadth of his shoulders. This man was so much stronger looking than Danny had been, but then again, Danny had been a boy compared to Jon Harper.
“I... I...” She swallowed. “I didn’t mean to bother you again,” she finally managed to say. Her voice sounded high and strange, even to her ears.
He stepped in, closing the door behind him, but not before she’d seen an old log cabin in the pines a dozen yards behind the carriage house. As the door closed, she blinked in the sudden dimness after the glare of the snow outside. Only a few bare light bulbs hung from the ceiling. The main source of light was a lamp where Jon had been working yesterday. It formed a pool of melted gold on his workbench but left the rest of the shop in varying degrees of shadow.
As he came into the shop, he picked up a hammer and a chisel before moving to where he’d been working yesterday. “You’re not bothering me.”
Again she heard how wrong his voice was. There was a roughness to it that hadn’t been there before.
“I wanted to apologize for yesterday,” she said as a cold gust blew snow in behind her, and she realized that she’d left the door ajar. She turned to close it and then, getting up her courage, stepped farther into the shop. Her heart hammered with each step, but she had to get close enough to look into his eyes. From a distance they appeared to be brown, but she had to see them up close to know for certain.
He had gone to work on the board lying on his workbench as if she wasn’t there. She watched him, studying first his profile, trying to see Danny, trying not to see him. The man’s hair was brown and longer than Danny had ever worn his. It curled at the nape of his neck. She fought the urge to touch it, remembering the feel of his hair in her fingers. She felt desperate for him to look at her so she could meet his gaze and finish this.
There was a wariness about him as she stepped closer. She thought about what Bessie had told her. He liked to keep to himself.
“I didn’t mean to scare you yesterday,” she said quietly.
He’d been easing wafer-thin pieces of wood from the board with his chisel and hammer. She saw his hands and felt a hard tug at her heart. His fingers were long and beautiful. Danny’s mother always said he had the hands of a classical pianist, not a laborer. “Too bad I’m tone-deaf, huh?” he’d joked. She remembered those hands on her body, the tender way he’d touched her, the way he’d made her body sing.
“Your hands,” she said and swallowed the rest of the words as he slowly put down the chisel. She cleared her voice. “You have nice hands. Ever play the piano?”
He turned then to look at her. She was close enough that the ambient light from the lamp caught on his face, giving her the first good look she’d had of him. Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, she feared she would black out again.
His face was so familiar and yet different enough to force doubt into the heady excitement that had her pulse thrumming. She felt a start as she saw that a portion of his face and neck had been scarred as if burned. Her skin felt hot, her heart knocked in her chest.
Danny.
His features had changed from the boy she’d loved into those of a man.