Conard County--Killer in the Storm by Rachel Lee

Author:Rachel Lee
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2023-08-24T19:03:21+00:00

* * *

MORE COFFEE. Boyd made the pot. They settled at the kitchen table for some reason. Maybe because it was less comfortable, suited for a difficult conversation. Or maybe because it was farther from Herman. Artie had a strong feeling neither of them wanted this story to be overheard.

Artie waited, but when Boyd didn’t speak, she looked into his tight face and said, “Well? Gage was right, this hike of yours doesn’t sound like a family emergency.”

“It is.” He wiped his hand over his face, calluses scratching a bit on the day’s stubble. “Except I can’t do a damn thing about any of it.”

“Except walk?”

“Walk and wait.” He turned his face away a bit, staring at something only he could see. “I don’t talk about this.”

“You told me once it could be helpful to talk.” Except tossing his words back at him seemed a little harsh on her part. Seemed too pushy, although she believed she had a justifiable need to know more about Boyd Connor.

“About some things. Not everything.” He fell silent again.

And once again, Artie waited. Some things couldn’t be pushed. No way. Some things had to come in their own good time. At least now he seemed willing to talk, a little anyway. So she waited.

Eventually Boyd spoke again. “I made a hash of my life, I’m a huge failure, and now I’m wondering if my ex will ever let me see my daughter again. She was supposed to, but that last phone call with her...” He shook his head, allowing the words to trail off.

Artie felt her chest begin to tighten. This guy was carrying more than a backpack. It sounded like a hell of a mess.

After a bit, Boyd’s gaze returned to her. It was utterly naked, hiding nothing of his anguish. “I blew it, Artie. All of it. I lost my marriage, I guess I lost my daughter, I sometimes lose my mind, and if I got any angrier I’d be a cinder.”

Artie didn’t know how to reply. Any words that sprang to her mind seemed trivial. She didn’t want to trivialize any part of what he was saying or feeling. Rightly or wrongly, this man must feel gutted.

The only thing she could do was reach across the table and rest her hand over his. To her great surprise, he turned his hand over and gripped her fingers gently. Warmth. Human touch. So very important. It felt good to her, too, bridging the gap she’d been trying to place between herself and the world. An important bridge.

“Tell me,” she said quietly. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear this, but she needed to. Needed to better understand this man who had blown into her life on a blizzard and was now insisting he would stay to back her up. That meant he was caring, right? The way he treated her father, so kindly, as if Herman had no problem at all. And now he wanted to help look after both of them. That caring on his part called out the caring in her.

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