“Do you think he’s right?”
She sighed. He wasn’t going to let her get away with blanking out on him. She had to engage in this conversation. “No. I showed him the wedding rings.”
“Oh?”
“He said they weren’t his.” She stared him straight in the eye, expecting a response.
“Are you sure he didn’t recognize them?” His tone suggested further possibilities.
“Yes.” Her answer was unconditional.
“Then what makes him so sure you’re his wife?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been afraid to ask. Besides, I haven’t seen him in days. Is it true they’re almost through out there?”
“They’ll be here a few more days. Maybe a week or two.”
She puffed out her cheeks and focused her gaze across the room.
“You like him, don’t you?” Brian was too perceptive.
“It doesn’t matter, does it? I’m not his wife, no matter what he thinks.”
Should she tell him about the strange telephone calls she’d been receiving? Couldn’t his office trace calls like that? She didn’t think the caller was Steve, but the intimidating messages on her answering machine started right after he had arrived in Purgatory.
She opened her mouth to speak, but her chance slipped by when their server laid the check by Brian’s hand. She grabbed it, and the usual argument ensued. He won the debate this time. Things almost seemed back to normal again.
He cleared his throat.
“What?”
“Emily’s wedding is next Saturday night.”
Her backbone stiffened. “I already told you I don’t think we should see each other like that.”
He dropped his fork by his plate, causing a ping to echo throughout the room. “It’s just a wedding. I just need someone to go with. It’s not like it’s a date.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No, it’s not.”
“I can’t go out with you. We’ve talked about this before.” She cringed. Their whispered voices rose with each declaration.
“You seem to have no problem eating lunch with me.”
She glanced around the room, hoping no one was staring at them. What if Osborne was absorbing every word? What if he took what he heard back to his boss? It didn’t matter if he did. She owed Brian. He had been her only friend for months right after the accident, helped her when she had no one. She couldn’t turn her back on him. She needed to let him down easy. There was never going to be anything romantic between them. It wasn’t right.
“Brian.” She reached for his hand. He pulled back, but she held tight. “I’m sorry. I’m never going to think about you like that. You’re my friend, my hero. But not my lover. I’m married. I have a husband somewhere. What if someone is out there looking for me? I can’t make that kind of commitment to you. You know that.”
He snatched his hand from hers. “That’s not what I’m asking.”
“Isn’t it? Maybe you’re… Maybe you need to move on, Brian. As long as you… I don’t know how to say this except straight up. I’m never going to fall in love with you, and you’re wasting your time waiting for me. I don’t know who I am. Until I do, I can’t be with anybody.”
“I only want someone to go to a stinking wedding with. No commitments involved.”
“And that’s just okay with you, isn’t it? No commitments?”
“What?” Disbelief erupted on his face.
“There’s someone waiting for your attention and you’re too blind to see it. Grow up, Brian.”
“Grow up! You’re the one who needs to grow up. It’s been five years. Do you really think anybody is still looking for you? Maybe your husband doesn’t want to find you.”
Sharp needles of fear punctured her calm. Panic swelled in her gut. What if he was right? She rose to her feet—fire blazing in her heart. She had never been so hurt or angry, at least as long as she could remember.
“This is all about Steve West, isn’t it?”
His hostile, jealousy-tinged question scared her more than all the other things he’d said, any other words he could have said.
She stood over him, her fingers balling into tight fists. “Are you jealous, Brian?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“You’re wasting your time.”
She walked away.
****
As she left the restaurant, Chris struggled with indecision. She needed to talk to someone, since Brian was obviously not on her friend list anymore. Would she ever be able to tell him anything important again?
Angela. She could confide in Angela. The woman would listen and not give advice. Angela lived a few doors down from her and worked for the railroad, just down the block. She headed that direction, her mind on her angry confrontation with Brian.
A man bumped her, startling her out of her inner thoughts. He grabbed her elbow before she could back away. His tight hold on her upper arm didn’t seem like an attempt to keep her from falling, more like trying to prevent her from getting away. The stranger peered into her eyes. “Carrie?”
The skin prickled on her arms. The sudden menace in his demeanor caused her body to jerk and she stumbled back a step. “No. My name is Chris.”
He studied her a moment longer and then released her. “Watch where you’re going.”
She pushed past him and quick-stepped the short distance to the Durango & Silverton train depot, anxious to get away from the man. She shook the bad vibe off and entered the building through the side door.
She enjoyed visiting Angela at work, immersing herself in the nostalgic feel of the train depot. The deserted building smelled of cinder, aged wood, and the past. Her heels clicked on the rough flooring. A chilly breeze flowed through the open door, past the ticketing counter, and all the way out the back door.
As she neared the ticket window, she recognized the back of Steve West’s head. She cleared her throat behind him. He turned, a grin lightening the worry lines between his brows. A bright gleam of eager anticipation settled into his hazel eyes.
“What are you doing here?” The question came out wrong. Couldn’t she have left it at hello?
“I was thinking about taking a train trip tomorrow. But I really wasn’t looking forward to going alone.” He appeared to be hinting, smiling an invitation to join him.
“I took the trip alone. It won’t hurt you.” She dodged, wanting to play the flirty exchange for all its sweet, beautiful pleasure, sensing this was a moment worth savoring.
“I don’t want to do that.”
Angela’s questioning glance flitted from one to the other of them. “Are you buying two tickets or one?” she asked Steve with a quirky smirk.
Chris glared at Angela. “I came here to see you.” She most certainly didn’t follow Steve or meet him here to plan an outing together. Angela should stop being so presumptuous.
“Oh, sorry. My mistake.” The twinkle in Angela’s eye betrayed her amusement.
“Two.” Steve seemed pleased with himself.
Chris wanted to bristle at his smug air but decided against it. The possibility of spending the day with him intrigued her. What could it hurt to spend the day with a charming, handsome man? Despite the tension between us, I enjoy his company. And I’m pretty sure he enjoys mine. Look at that hopeful smile on his face. You know, I think I’ve actually missed him the last few weeks. Her emotions reeled. Where had those thoughts come from?
“Okay, two. But…”
He raised an eyebrow.
“But I’m paying for my own ticket.”
“Fair enough.”
They bought their tickets, exited through the open doorway, and stood outside the depot for a moment. “Well, I’ll meet you right here tomorrow morning, then?” Restrained excitement punctuated his question.
“Sounds like a plan.”
With one last grin, he turned and walked away. She watched him go. Her entire being flooded with unrestrained happiness. Yes, the thought of spending the d
ay with him was very appealing.
He couldn’t possibly be the one leaving those obnoxious messages on her answering machine. She wanted to believe that, even though the harassment began shortly after he arrived in Purgatory. Maybe there would be an opportunity to tell him about the strange phone calls and get his unguarded reaction.
The caller always left a message claiming to know her and to know why she was running. Sometimes she wanted to catch the call and scream at him to tell her what he thought he knew about her. Knowing would be so much better than speculating.
Chapter Eight
Chris sat on The Silverton shoulder to shoulder with Steve West. While they waited for the train to depart, he purchased a guidebook about the railroad and its history. Together, they studied it as the steam locomotive chugged out of the station. She took the opportunity to observe him as the train moved through Durango, wanting to memorize every little thing she could about him in the brief time they were together.
He was handsome in a rugged, outdoors way. A broad forehead, strong chin, and chiseled features defined his face. She was tempted to run her fingers through his thick, brown hair, but fought the urge. The color of his eyes depended on what he was wearing. Today, he wore forest green, so they suggested a deep hazel color. His eyes held a spark of restrained anticipation when he wasn’t apprehensive, but she had seen him anxious a lot, more often than not.
She exhaled a deep sigh, not a sigh of contentment, but one of longing. As she settled into the seat next to him, she concluded she could easily fall in love with him. But she couldn’t let that happen. Soon, he would leave Colorado. He would likely never return to Purgatory, and she didn’t plan to encourage him to linger. The sooner he left, the sooner her life could go back to what it had been before he arrived. That might not be what she wanted, but it was for the best.
“Are you all right?” He must have heard her heavy sigh.
“You can quit asking me that. I’m okay.”
He stared at her skeptically, more concern than doubt.
“I promise you if I’m about to have a breakdown, I’ll warn you.”
Her light-hearted quip seemed to distress him, but he covered the reaction with a tight smile, then turned to the scene passing outside the coach.
At about an hour and fifteen minutes into their trip, they approached the grade crossing at Hermosa. She could see her house from the train. With apparent interest, he followed her outstretched arm and pointing finger. “It’s kind of small.” She was conscious of the fact he could probably afford something bigger and more upscale.
“It looks nice. Like you take good care of it.”
“I have a good landlord. He keeps the place up.” He was staring at her again. What did he want? An invitation to come visit? That wasn’t going to happen. She turned her head and the line of conversation fell away.
After the train crossed the highway, it slowed as it climbed an immediate, steep, uphill grade and left civilization behind. He leaned across her and opened the window to allow the cool mountain air to caress their faces. The slight brush against her shoulder produced a thrill such as she had never experienced. At least, not as far as she could remember. She closed her eyes and imagined feeling that buzz of electricity at his touch in a different life.
She was certain he lived in a world to which she could never aspire. Steve was wealthy, and she knew instinctively she had come from a very different background. Could she fit into his world? She had her doubts. She stopped her anxious daydreaming and submerged herself in the pleasant tingle of his nearness, refusing to allow her musings to ruin the moment.
He snapped several pictures as they traveled along the Animas River. Moving to the empty seat in front of them, he stuck his head out the window, hanging out far enough to see up the track where the train was curving around a sharp angle. He leaned to get a photograph of the engine as it disgorged puffy plumes of smoke in an effort to climb ever higher up the mountain.
She regretted the loss of his nearness the second he moved away from her. Keeping her eyes focused on the scenery outside the window, she fought the urge to move to the seat beside him. High above the valley, she peered down hundreds of feet into the Animas River gorge. In some spots, the train traveled on a thin ledge. On one side of the track, a person could reach out and touch the rocky cliff. On the other side, there was a steep drop-off littered with rocks and large boulders. She wondered what would happen if the train jumped the track at such a treacherous spot. She shivered the thought away.
Once they cleared the rocky cliffs, she hung her head out the window, her hair blowing around her face in a swirl of gold. Tucking the wayward locks behind her ear, she turned her head and caught him staring at her.
“You’re a beautiful woman,” he whispered with a bright shimmer of longing in his eyes.
How long had he been staring at her that way? Her heart ceased pumping. He bit his lower lip. Perhaps, he hadn’t meant to verbalize his thoughts. Her scar warmed with embarrassment. She pressed her palm against her cheek to soothe the aching heat.
“The scar does nothing to diminish your beauty, Chris.”
His blunt assessment discomfited her. “Yes, it does,” she muttered her disagreement.
She retreated to the interior of the railcar to get away from his penetrating gaze. He bumped the wood and metal frame as he pulled his head inside the coach. He rubbed the spot, his gaze riveted on hers, staring at her over the green vinyl seats.
“How?”
She lowered her head, fearful of making eye contact when she admitted her inmost insecurity. “When I look in the mirror, it reminds me—”
“Scars are beauty marks. The hallmarks of survival. They proclaim the strength of the human spirit. A scar is nothing to be ashamed of.” He lifted her chin with his hand. As their eyes met, her smile faded, but she didn’t resort to her usual defense mechanism, her all-purpose blank unemotional mask, as she usually did.
She caught the faintest glimmer of hope in his eyes. As quickly as it flamed, he snuffed it out and dropped his hand from her chin. She understood what almost happened. The moment might have ended in a kiss, but that wasn’t to be. As long there was a possibility she might be somebody else’s woman, he wasn’t going to make a move on her.
****
They spent an enjoyable couple of hours in Silverton. As they walked through town, Chris commented on the town’s history, noting the locals maintained some of the feel of the old silver mining days right down to the unpaved dirt streets. While she talked, Steve listened to the soothing even tone of her voice and focused on the nearby mountains, hoping to hide the emotions that surely must be flitting across his face every time he thought about their almost kiss.
The missed opportunity to taste her lips, to determine if her lips were Carol’s lips, rattled his psyche, causing his knees to shake and his stomach to nosedive at the slightest provocation. How could he look at her without giving his tumbling emotions away? Whoever she was, he loved her, and he didn’t care what her past held. He was beginning not to care if she was Carol or Chris. The betraying thought stabbed him. If only he could prove she was his wife. But how?
Although she seemed to maneuver in the thinner air with ease, he struggled to breathe in the higher altitude. He suggested they stop at a coffee and dessert shop for a rest. He needed to catch his breath and not just due to the physical exertion. As they dawdled over cappuccino and chocolate cream pie, they talked about everything, except what lay between them. His jokes were corny, but she laughed anyway.
“So what do you do for fun in Virginia?”
He spoke of day hiking in the Smokies and then rambled awhile about various other activities. She smiled and appeared to listen with rapt attention. He decided to risk his next comments, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, fishing to see if his words recalled any memories for her. “I have a sloop that I sail on Chesapeake Bay. But I haven’t taken it out in a long time.” He sipped his coffee, so he wouldn’t have to
meet her eyes.
“Did you say a sloop?”
“Yes.” He didn’t want to seem too excited by her interest. “It’s not huge. I rarely take it out of the bay. It’s just right for a day’s outing.”
“What size is it?”
He described the small yacht to her, the marina where he harbored it, and the small town feeling of the surrounding area. He tried to measure her reaction, but she remained unreadable. Taking the sloop out had been a special retreat for them. Surely, if Chris were his wife, she would have only fond memories of sailing on the bay, unless kidnappers had held her in its confined cabin for days on end.
The last time he went on board, he found someone had been living there and his Jeep was missing from the dock. Fingerprints smudged everything below deck. Several clear prints appeared on the captain’s console, but none of them matched the dead woman. The prints didn’t match anyone else in the national fingerprint identification database either. Without any further leads, the kidnapping landed in the cold case file, his wife’s supposed death garnering the focus of investigative attention, the missing person’s case stamped closed. After all this time, the murder case lay dormant.
The thought made him tremble with suppressed emotion. “Do you think you’d like sailing?”
“I wouldn’t know,” she replied through stiff lips.
He perceived mention of the sloop caused her some inner turmoil and dropped the subject, not wanting to inflict any damage. Instead, he searched for a topic that would lead them back to neutral ground. Coming up with nothing that wouldn’t make them both squirm, he smiled at her and suggested they explore Silverton a little longer before boarding the train again. She jumped on the idea.
Chapter Nine
By the time Steve and Chris returned to Durango, they were laughing like old friends. The tenseness that developed in Silverton hours earlier had all but disappeared. As they exited the depot and lingered outside, it became apparent to Chris they were both reluctant to go their separate ways.
Purgatory (Colorado series) Page 5