Charlotte's Homecoming. Janice Johnson Kay
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haven’t mentioned the fire,” Charlotte said, changing the subject. “Did you learn anything today?”
“None of the neighbors saw a thing.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“No,” he agreed, and took a bite before adding, “I talked to Hardesty. He gave me an earful about you. Said of course you’d blame him.”
“Jerk,” she muttered.
“Insisted he loves Faith and knows how important the farm is to her.”
Charlotte scoffed under her breath.
“Yeah, that could be taken one of two ways, couldn’t it?” Ben remarked. “I’ll tell you, though, my gut feeling was that he didn’t do it.”
Every instinct Charlotte had disagreed, but it was true that she was biased. “So now what?” she asked.
“I couldn’t track Coffey down today. His mom says he’ll be home tomorrow.”
Charlotte nodded.
“Your sister ever considered getting a big dog?”
“We had a dog when I was growing up, but the highway is a worry, and what good would a dog do if he was kenneled or in the house at night?”
“Dogs bark. You’d have an early warning system.”
“That’s true.” She thought about it for a moment before agreeing, “I’ll suggest it to Faith. She’s always loved animals.”
“Just don’t let her bring home a cute puppy. You need a dog with some teeth right now.”
He must share some of her unease, Charlotte thought, or they’d be talking about something else. Like their favorite music or how they felt about people who used the express checkout in the grocery store even though they had too many items. Whether they were morning people or night owls. The little stuff that mattered, when a man and woman were drawn enough to each other.
“Was it Gray who hired you?” she heard herself ask, and cringed inwardly.
Ben didn’t look surprised at her question. “I guess you could say so, although I had the impression the city council had a pretty strong voice.”
“So you must be doing okay at politicking,” she pointed out.
He sawed at his steak with unnecessary force. “They didn’t hate me then. You’re right about that. Their enthusiasm for me started to wane when I told them know how grossly understaffed and underequipped their police department was. Asking them to open the checkbook was the equivalent of giving a woman a poison ivy bouquet on the first date.”
Charlotte laughed. The smile was still lingering on her mouth when her gaze was drawn to a man walking into the restaurant. Gray, wearing the suit from earlier, although he’d now added the coat.
He was scanning the restaurant as he walked in, just as she’d noticed Ben doing. Ben was probably assessing diners for their likelihood of turning violent, though, while Gray presumably had voters on his mind. No matter what he was thinking, what it meant was that he saw her as quickly as she saw him. His stride checked as he looked at her, then at Ben, who was turning his head to see what had caught her attention.
Charlotte’s stomach knotted at the expression on Gray’s face. Shock, followed by … She wasn’t sure. Anger? Hurt? Something that darkened his eyes and made a muscle jump on his jaw.
Someone called his name, and he very deliberately turned away to greet a couple at one of the tables with an easy smile. Charlotte looked away from him to find that Ben was contemplating her. He didn’t say anything, though, for which she was grateful.
She asked him about juvenile crime in West Fork and whether drugs were getting to be a problem here, but didn’t hear his answer. She was too conscious of Gray, making his way around the restaurant, pausing at almost every table to shake hands and exchange a few words with people. She couldn’t seem to make herself take a bite. She felt sick and guilty, and mad because there wasn’t any reason in the world for her to feel either. She didn’t want to know what her face gave away when he reached their booth.
“Ben. Charlotte.” He didn’t seem interested in shaking either of their hands.
Humor in his voice, Ben said, “You stop by every Friday and Saturday night just to glad-hand?”
“Actually, I’ve usually had enough of the good citizens of West Fork by dinner time. No offense,” he said politely to Charlotte. “I’m having dinner with Ed Tolman and Don Scheff.”
Ben nodded, looking unsurprised.
“City council members?” Charlotte ventured. She’d gone to school with a couple of the Tolman kids. Ed owned the hardware store in town.
“Yeah.” Ben smiled at her. “Didn’t you see me sink down in the booth when they came in?”
Why didn’t a smile that wicked make her heart go pitty-pat? Because I’m an idiot, she mourned.
Gray’s eyes rested on her face, but she didn’t have the courage to meet them. After a moment he lightly rapped his knuckles on the table, said, “Have a good dinner,” and left them. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him join two older men in a booth that was close enough for her to hear the murmur of their voices but not what they said.
Charlotte tried for all she was worth not to be lousy company, but despite her best efforts she kept catching herself straining to hear Gray’s voice, picturing his face, wondering what he was thinking.
She hated responding so strongly to a man. She never had before. Faith used to tease her about being commitment phobic, which might have been true back then. No guy, she had always told herself fiercely, was keeping her in West Fork. But even later … Maybe she shied away whenever a man got too serious, or maybe she just hadn’t met the right one.
All she knew was, she’d been desperate to escape her hometown, while Gray Van Dusen had chosen to make West Fork his life. She wasn’t going to be idiot enough to let herself be tempted by him.
Which meant it was a good thing he’d seen her tonight having dinner with Ben Wheeler. That had been her plan, hadn’t it? She bet he wouldn’t be stopping by the Russell farm again anytime soon.
She just wished she could forget the look of hurt on his face that he hadn’t been able to hide quite fast enough when he first saw her with Ben.
CHAPTER FOUR
FAITH WAS ASHAMED OF HERSELF to be so glad when Charlotte offered to grocery shop and departed, list in hand. In all the years of conflicted emotions toward her twin, she’d never been jealous before. Last night, she was.
There wasn’t any good reason for it. Ben Wheeler had asked Charlotte out, not her; it was Charlotte who drew him, not her. And Char had no idea Faith had wished it was otherwise.
And wasn’t that pathetic? She was twenty-nine years old, and she’d never in her life felt that twist of desire when setting her eyes on a man. The sight of a smile had never had her heart flopping in her chest like a trout hooked and tossed to shore. Faith had had boyfriends in high school, and then Rory, but her relationship with Rory had been a gradual settling into a contented belief that he was a man she could be happy with, a man who wanted the same kind of life she did. It hadn’t been like walking into a glass door, leaving her dazed but still able to see through to where she’d meant to go.
Last night, she’d sat in the living room pretending to read while Char and Ben stayed outside in his SUV and talked or made out for a good fifteen minutes. By the time Char came in the kitchen door and the SUV turned in a circle and left, Faith had stiffly stood in one position so long her body felt locked. She’d thought she might crack when she had to turn her head to greet her sister.
It hurt, damn it. She knew it wasn’t Char’s