The Nearness of You

by Dorothy Garlock

  “It’s not like that!” Clive said defensively. “I just thought that since we’re a team on assignment, we should look out for each other.”

  “Fine. Whatever,” Boone said, shaking his head as a sudden gust of wind blew, strong enough to tug leaves from their trees, causing a slowly falling storm of crimson and orange.

  In the end, it didn’t matter. In a couple of hours, he’d be gone from this place, headed back to the city and the life waiting for him there. His things were already packed. All he would have to do is throw them in the trunk, put Daisy in the backseat, and off they’d go. Clive would probably complain a bit, whining between sneezing fits about their responsibility to their assignment, that they owed it to the magazine. More blah, blah, blah. But his words would fall on deaf ears. A week from now, Boone would’ve forgotten all about Hoover’s Crossing.

  In a way, he supposed that Walter had succeeded in making his point. For a while at least, Boone would walk the straight-and-narrow path, because the last thing he wanted was another punishment like this one.

  “Come on,” he grumbled. “Let’s get this over with.”

  “This is a bad idea.”

  Randall stopped, the passenger’s door open, his foot already out on the curb. Leo remained behind the wheel of the car, coldly staring out the windshield, his thumb absently drumming against the steering wheel. That morning, they’d left the cabin and driven toward Hooper’s Crossing as planned, but the roads had been heavy with traffic and the trip had taken longer than expected. Leo had skirted downtown, both of them looking warily at the throngs of people, before he finally parked down a side street in a quiet neighborhood a five-minute walk away. Randall figured they’d get right to it, but apparently not.

  “It’s like I said. I need to take another look at that safe.” He’d used the lie enough times now that it had started to feel a little bit like the truth. “We don’t want any mistakes when the time comes.”

  “That’s what I think this is,” the older thief grumbled. “A mistake. Tell me again why you can’t just bring along extra tools.”

  Randall sighed. “’Cause the more I’m carryin’, the slower I’ll move and the less room there’ll be for what’s inside that vault. You want me to have to leave behind a wad of cash ’cause I’m haulin’ an extra hammer?”

  “Why can’t you just leave the hammer behind? What with all the money you’re gonna have, you shouldn’t have a problem buyin’ a new one.”

  “I thought you was dead-set against us leavin’ behind any clues that could be tied to us,” Randall answered, not anticipating his partner’s line of thinking but reacting quickly. “Besides, this is gonna be easy as pie. You saw all those people. No one’s gonna pay either of us any mind.”

  Leo shook his head. “Not us. Just you. I ain’t goin’.”

  Randall’s first reaction was one of relief. He didn’t want the older man tagging along anyway. It’d make it a hell of a lot easier to stretch his legs, get some fresh air, and enjoy being out of the cramped cabin. Still, he was curious about the reason. “Why not?” he asked.

  “’Cause I’m smart. ’Cause I’m not willin’ to risk some yokel rememberin’ my face. ’Cause I did my job right the first time.”

  By now, the barbs were starting to piss off Randall. He got out of the car, slammed the door a little harder than needed, then bent down to look through the open window. “Suit yourself,” he said. “Have fun listenin’ to the radio or playin’ with yourself, whatever you got planned while you’re sittin’ here.”

  “I’m leavin’,” Leo replied. “Ain’t worth the chancin’ some housewife lookin’ out her window, seein’ a suspicious car, and callin’ the cops to come check it out. I’m gonna go for a drive instead.”

  “So what am I supposed to do when I’m finished? Hitch a ride?”

  “I’ll be back here in an hour, so make sure you’re ready to go. I wait longer than a minute or two, the job’s off and you’re on your own.”

  Randall glanced at his watch, marking the time. “I’ll be here.”

  “You better be,” Leo said, then added, “And without any screwups.” With that, he pulled the car away from the curb and down the street. Randall watched him until the Plymouth was out of sight, then spit in the grass.

  That guy needs to loosen up. He’s too much of a hard-ass for his own good.

  As annoying as Leo could be, Randall couldn’t help but feel a little triumphant that he’d gotten his way. Hell, it was even better than he’d expected. Now he could go to town and not even have to poke his head in the bank. He wouldn’t have someone looking over his shoulder. He could enjoy himself a little. With a spring in his step, he set off for the festival.

  Today was going to be a good day.

  Lily said good-bye to her father, making sure to wish him luck for his big interview, then paused, undecided about what to do next. She glanced in the direction of the library. It was still late morning, too early for her to take her lunch break. She supposed that she should go back and help Ethel; even if not a single patron had entered the library since Lily had left, the older woman was likely beside herself by now, fretting at imaginary indignities, all of which were surely Lily’s fault. Still, the thought of taking another dose of Ethel’s abuse didn’t hold much appeal. Lily could practically hear the old battle-axe now, complaining about everything under the sun.

  So why go back? It wasn’t like that was her only choice.

  Lily allowed the lure of the festival to tempt her, with all of its sights, sounds, and smells. Who would know if she spent some time wandering among the crowd, enjoying the beautiful October day?

  She smiled.

  Ethel was just going to have to get along without for a little while longer.

  Boone raised his camera and snapped a shot of a man playing a harmonica, a pair of children dancing at his feet. It was a nice-enough image, but something was off, likely the lighting, so Boone moved a couple of paces to his right and tried again. Even though he wanted to leave this nowhere town as quickly as possible, when it came to taking pictures he was a professional. But even as he reshot the image, something continued to nag at him.

  Well, not something. Someone. Clive.

  “You want some cotton candy?” the writer asked as Boone clicked away.

  “No. What I want is for you to get lost for a few minutes.”

  “But why…?” he asked.

  “Because you’re bothering me. I’m not used to having someone look over my shoulder while I work, blabbing in my ear. So scram.”

  Clive looked around. “And do what?”

  “I couldn’t care less,” Boone replied. “Go get damn cotton candy.”

  The writer must have agreed that it was a good idea, smiling brightly. But then the grin faltered. “Wait, aren’t we supposed to be on our way to interview the mayor?” he asked.

  “We’ve got time,” Boone answered after he glanced at his watch. “I’ll take some more pictures, then we’ll meet up.”

  Clive still looked uneasy. “Where?”

  Boone searched over the crowd. “There,” he said, pointing at the movie theater. “Under the marquee in fifteen minutes.”

  “Are you sure that’s enough—” Clive started, but then he stopped as soon as he noticed the irritated look on Boone’s face. “Fine. Fifteen minutes.”

  Watching Clive disappear into the crowd, Boone let out a long sigh. Finally, there’d be some peace and quiet, if only for a short while.

  He raised his camera and got to work.

  Lily walked along the edge of the park admiring the festival. She bought a bag of homemade butterscotches from Mort Crawford, savoring their sweet taste. She listened to Margaret Hoskins play her violin, clapping along with the appreciative audience. She even considered purchasing a beautiful scarf from Joe Knapp’s booth, the wool luxuriously soft beneath her fingers, but decided to wait, at least for a little while longer. In short, she was having a wonderful time.

  By now, th
e crowd had gotten larger, slowly but steadily swelling with every passing hour. Lily knew she should probably get back to the library before Ethel went completely out of her mind. Excusing herself, she squeezed between some people, then stepped off the sidewalk and into the street. She’d figured the going would be easier there, but Lily had only managed a couple of steps before she was bumped hard on her side and her balance was thrown off so badly she feared she would fall. She reached out, searching for something to hold on to, but her hands came up empty.

  Instead, for the second time in as many days, she slammed into someone and her purse was knocked to the ground.

  “I’m so sorry,” Lily said, too embarrassed to find out who she’d hit, already crouching to scoop up her belongings.

  “It’s fine,” a deep voice answered. “Let me help you.”

  It was then, just as she was about to grab her lipstick and the last of the butterscotch candies, that Lily looked over. A man knelt beside her. His attention was on a runaway pen and some coins, but she could clearly see his profile.

  He was the handsomest man Lily had ever laid eyes on.

  With his short dark hair, a strong jaw, and narrow blue eyes, he reminded her of the men she was used to seeing up on the big screen, the Hollywood heroes who always saved the day just in the nick of time. Whiskers peppered his cheeks, adding a whiff of ruggedness. Even his clothes, a leather jacket and jeans, said that he was stylish and not from around here. Lily found herself staring, fearful he would notice but too entranced to look away.

  “Here you go,” he said, holding out the items he’d recaptured as his eyes rose to meet hers.

  But then the strangest thing happened.

  He stared back.

  Lily saw a quick, almost imperceptible surprise cross his face. Just then, the two of them crouched beside each other in the street, it felt like a moment frozen in time. Neither of them moved or spoke, a powerful something between them. Strange as it was, Lily felt as if they were alone even as they were surrounded by hundreds of people. Her heart pounded and her body was tense with excited nerves, but she didn’t look away. She couldn’t.

  “Do you have everything?” he finally asked as they both stood, breaking the spell that had held them both, though his eyes never left hers.

  “Everything what?” she answered, feeling dazed.

  A grin spread across his face. “The stuff that fell out of your purse.”

  Lily looked down. Between what she’d picked up, all that the stranger had handed her, and what was still in her bag, she thought she had it all. But then the man said, “Wait a second.” He bent down and plucked a hair clip from the street. “This one was hoping to make a clean getaway.”

  When Lily took it from him, their fingers briefly touched, sending a shiver of electricity racing across her skin. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I didn’t see you. There were so many people that when I—”

  “It’s all right,” the man interrupted. “It was an accident. Just don’t go making a habit of it,” he jokingly added.

  But the fact was that Lily had. Just the day before, she’d run into that other stranger in front of the bank—or, more accurately, he had run into her. But while that man had unsettled her, his smile too slick, his wanting to spend time with her too insistent, this man made her feel the exact opposite.

  “I’m Boone,” he said, extending his hand.

  “Lily,” she answered, taking it.

  “Don’t take this the wrong way,” he said with a grin, “but when we bumped into each other, I’m glad it was your purse that fell.”

  “Why is that?” she asked.

  “Because I might have burst into tears if this thing had hit the pavement,” Boone answered, holding up the fanciest camera Lily had ever seen; she was surprised to realize that she’d been so focused on Boone that she hadn’t even noticed it.

  “That looks expensive.”

  “It is, though I have one nicer,” he explained. “I need it for my job.” When she looked at him quizzically, he added, “I’m a photographer.”

  “For a newspaper?”

  “Close,” Boone said. “I take pictures for Life magazine.”

  Just like that, the puzzle pieces slid into place in Lily’s head. “My dad!” she exclaimed, then hurriedly added, “You’re supposed to interview him this afternoon. He’s the mayor.”

  “That’s right,” Boone said. “Clive, my…colleague…will talk to him,” he explained, though his grin wavered a bit when he mentioned the other man. “I’ll be there to snap a picture or two.”

  “I can’t believe Life is here in Hooper’s Crossing,” she gushed.

  “Me either,” Boone agreed as he ran a hand through his dark hair. “I can tell you one thing, this place is nothing like New York City.”

  “That’s…that’s where you’re from…?”

  “Yep. Ever been there?”

  She shook her head.

  “Too bad. With everything it has to offer, I reckon a girl like you would fall in love with it faster than you could snap your fingers.”

  Lily suspected that he was right; after all, it was the place she had been dreaming about for so long. Her thoughts raced. She imagined Jane, likely already on her way to becoming a movie star or fashion model. And here Lily was, still in Hooper’s Crossing, still living with her father, still working at the library, and still going nowhere. What could she possibly have to talk about with a man like Boone, someone who lived in the midst of the city’s hustle and bustle, who worked for Life magazine, and who had probably seen more of the world in the last week than Lily would see in her whole life?

  Then, feeling plenty sorry for herself, she glanced up at Boone and found him looking at her expectantly. Instantly, Lily understood that he must have asked her a question, one she hadn’t heard.

  “I’m sorry,” she again apologized. “What did you say?”

  “That I want to take your picture.”

  Lily froze. “Me?” she blurted. “Why would you want to do that?”

  “Because it’s my job, for one thing,” Boone answered with a chuckle. “I’m supposed to be walking around the festival, taking photos that interest me.” He paused, his expression growing a bit more serious, then edged a step closer to Lily. “And you most certainly interest me.”

  Most days, Lily would have allowed herself to be flattered by a handsome man’s words and let him take her picture. But with her head spinning about Jane, the city, and the cowardice she’d shown in staying behind, she couldn’t bring herself to accept Boone’s offer. Lily believed that the camera would see the truth, that her weakness would be there in the picture.

  “I can’t,” she told him, shaking her head.

  Boone looked genuinely surprised at her rejection. “Why not?”

  “I…I…just…” Lily started but stopped. It was too complicated a story to tell, especially to a man she’d just met, even if there was something about Boone that made her believe he would listen. “I’ve got to go,” she added, certain that if she stayed much longer, she would start to cry.

  And so Lily turned and left.

  Chapter Ten

  WHEN BOONE WAS BUMPED INTO, his hands reflexively tightening around his camera, he hadn’t thought much of it. There were a lot of people milling around, so it was no surprise that it had happened. Besides, he was from New York, a place where pedestrians slammed into each other a dozen times a day. When the woman’s purse hit the pavement, he’d bent over to help her pick up her things, behaving like a gentleman. But when he got a good look at her, everything changed.

  She was gorgeous, a true beauty who made his heart pick up speed.

  Coming from a man like Boone, someone who had walked the streets of Rome in summertime, snapped photographs of a swimsuit contest in Sweden, and strolled along the beaches of Hawaii, this was high praise indeed. But Lily deserved it. She wasn’t a statuesque blonde all glammed up with lipstick and dripping with jewels. Instead, she had that rare and special
something that grabbed hold of a man’s heart and squeezed hard enough to make him see stars. From the moment Boone saw her, he’d wanted to hear her voice, to discover her name, to know her better.

  And he most definitely wanted to take her picture.

  For the life of him, Boone couldn’t understand why she’d turned down his offer. Most women he knew, especially those from small out-of-the-way places like this, would have jumped at the chance if an honest-to-goodness photographer asked to snap their picture. But not Lily. She’d turned him down cold. In an odd way, her rejection made her more interesting to him. And so, as he watched her move toward the crowd, Boone made a quick decision.

  He lifted his camera, sighted down the viewfinder, and took a deep breath.

  Randall walked the sidewalks, taking in the sights and sounds of the festival, happy as a bird set free from its cage. He bought a candied apple, mostly eating the good stuff on the skin before pitching what remained on the stick into a garbage can. He picked up a newspaper at the drugstore, leaving the old man behind the counter a couple extra cents on account of his good mood. He tipped his hat in greeting to every pretty lady he walked by.

  To hell with Leo and all his damn worryin’. Unless I run naked down the middle of Main Street, ain’t a one of these people is gonna remember me.

  As he neared the bank, Randall entertained the idea of poking his head inside for appearance’s sake. He wondered if Leo wasn’t somewhere in the crowd watching him, wanting to know if all this talk about vault doors and hinge caps was a lie, which it most certainly was. In the end, Randall walked right on past. He was just being paranoid. Besides, he only had an hour before he had to be back at the car. Best not to waste any of it.

  But then, just as he was passing beneath the movie marquee, wondering what he might do next, Randall saw something that stopped him short.

  There, in the middle of the street, was Lily.

  Ever since he’d run into her, literally, the cute blonde had been on his mind. Randall had even dreamed about her the night before, a fantasy that found him covered in sweat when he woke up. And now he’d found her among hundreds of people. It must be fate.