The Lost Hours by Karen White

Author:Karen White
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Penguin USA, Inc.
Published: 2011-08-16T07:41:18+00:00

I barely followed the conversation following dinner, being too worried about finding my angel charm. The chain I’d been using was old and the clasp must have broken and I berated myself for not having purchased a new chain.

Unable to contain my restlessness and eager to return home to see if the charm might have fallen off there, I waited for a lull in the conversation and stood to excuse myself. I’d driven my car to the house, not willing to take another open-cart ride under the old oaks at night again, so I was disappointed when Tucker stood, too, and told me that he would walk me out. I didn’t want company, especially his. There’s something about the way she carries herself that makes her stand out anyway. It’s like she’s used to leading a parade or something, and that even without the parade behind her, she can’t help but walk as if she were still up front.

At first I thought he’d discovered my secret, and then quickly dismissed the idea. I had no doubt that I’d be heading back to Savannah with a hastily packed trunk and a car full of unanswered questions if that had been the case. But while I’d been sitting at the table and listening to Tucker describe me to Helen, the repercussions of what would happen when my deception became known had become illuminated in my mind. I’d always been headstrong, always leaping before I looked, and this plan had been no exception. My only excuse was that it had given me a reason to get up in the morning for the first time in over six years. I think George had known it, too, or he would never have allowed me to do something so stupid. I’d have to figure something out—something that would salvage my relationship with the family I had grown to like; and I hoped that the lost angel charm wouldn’t force my hand before I was ready.

I said my good nights before preceding Tucker to the front door. He opened it for me and then surprised me by following me outside into the humid summer night air that lay as thick on our skins as marsh mud.

“I’m heading to the stables to check on Captain Wentworth. Thought maybe you’d like to come.” His words weren’t warm or inviting, but he sounded sincere.

I nodded, my reason for agreeing unclear even to me. “Sure,” I said, then turned with him and began to walk in the direction of the stables. “Do you always tuck your horses in at night? I thought Andi Winkle was your stable manager.”

“She is, and she does a great job. But sometimes we get a horse who was so abused that they need a little help before they can trust humans again. Those are the ones I give a little extra TLC to. And Captain Wentworth—well, he always gets a bit nervous when we leave him in the stall, so I make it a practice to check on him a few times to let him know that nobody’s forgotten him.

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