Page 2 of Mending Fences
“It can, but in this case they are rubber.” He slid the gun into a holster at his back.
Mandy hopped another step. “If you can give me a hand, I will leave. I seem to have injured my foot.”
The man shook his head and walked over to the end of the gate, inserted a key in the padlock, and removed the chain. Instead of coming to help her, he walked over to the remains of the camera. “That looks like one expensive camera.”
Mandy limped, using the gate for support. “Tell me about it.”
“What did you say?” The man picked up the pieces and strode over to intercept her.
“I was agreeing. It is a very expensive camera.”
Cradling the camera pieces, he blocked her way. “Probably more than a teenager like you can afford. Who paid you to come here?”
“Can’t you read? The camera is clearly marked ‘University Property.’” Mandy jabbed a finger at the UPC inventory sticker.
“Why would the university want pictures of this place?”
“They don’t. I do. I borrowed the camera for my MFA project, and I’m not a teenager.”
For a split second, Mandy thought she saw a flicker of something other than anger, but it was difficult to tell with the brim of his hat shading his face.
“You’re bleeding.” He pointed to her arm.
Blood trickled from her elbow. “Just a bit.” Not like a few drops of blood were her biggest problem at the moment.
“Aren’t you going to do something about that?”
“Like what? Rip the rest of my skirt off and wrap it?”
The man walked around her and retrieved the portion of her skirt still clinging to the upper rail. “Here.”
“Thanks.” His chivalry was unparalleled. She wrapped the remnant around her arm. He stood close enough now that she could see him clearly. She would know those blue eyes anywhere. “Danny?”
He stepped back. “No one calls me that. I don’t care what you think you know from the tabloids. You don’t know me.”
“Yes, I do. The summer you lived here—”
“Stop.” He shoved the camera and lens parts at her. “Just leave.” He pushed the gate open wide.
Mandy felt him watching as she dumped the pieces in the camera bag she’d left on the side of the road. “And to think Grandma Mae thought you would grow up to be a gentleman,” she muttered as she hoisted the bag to her shoulder. She winced when the strap hit a bruise.
Daniel froze in place, his hand on the gate. “What did you say?”
“I said Grandma Mae was wrong about you.” Mandy limped to the car, the tears she had managed to keep at bay now escaping. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. The old Danny would have helped her.
When she checked the rearview mirror, he still stood at the gate.
