Page 5 of Deathmarch
“Allie,” she mumbled through the scarf as the overhead light went out, shrouding her in blessed darkness at last.
“Nice to meet you, Abby.” Harper finally turned his attention from her and shifted the truck into gear.
He had to plow a patch clean before he could turn around and head back the way he’d come. Allie stared forward as myriad snowflakes whizzed by, lit by his headlights, small sparks of light against a background of darkness, as if she were in a spaceship, flying through a field of stars. The moment had an odd serenity to it, even if he drove faster than Allie considered prudent under current weather conditions.
“I’ll drop you off someplace warm where you can defrost,” he said. “Then I’ll come back and save your car.”
Not the first time Harper Finnegan had filled her head with promises. Not the first time he’d taken her for a ride. At least this truck likely belonged to the town instead of being stolen. He seemed to have a job now—plow operator. So maybe he’d matured.
Or maybe he was on a work-release program from prison.
Allie stayed silent and focused on thawing out her extremities. She wiggled her toes. If they moved, that meant they hadn’t frozen off, right? She worked on them, one by one, then wiggled her frozen nose too.
“You all right?” He was looking at her from the corner of his eye.
He probably thought she had a twitch. Let him. “Mhm.”
They zoomed by another sign on the side of the road. WELCOME TO BROSLIN, HOME TO 3211 HOPEFUL PEOPLE.
Because Allie liked to think she knew how to be polite, she resisted a groan and instead silently rolled her eyes. When had Broslin gotten this hokey? The place had been a typical Pennsylvania small town when she’d lived here. Looked like someone had started a feel-good movement in the past decade. Either that, or hippies had invaded.
If they had, they hadn’t tie-dyed anything. Yet.
Warm light called from the windows of the houses as they drove by, the chimneys puffing smoke. St Patrick’s Day banners flew on every phone pole in front of the quaint snow-laden brick houses. The streets looked as if Thomas Kinkade picked up a leprechaun by his ankle and swung him around until he threw up shamrocks, rainbows, and pots of gold all over everything. Since a lot of Irish had settled in the town in the eighteen hundreds, St. Patrick’s Day had always been something the locals considered a “serious shindig.”
Allie read the banner hanging over the street. HOPE MAKES YOU STRONGER.
Aaand…she couldn’t bite her tongue any longer. “What’s with all the signs?”
“Township put them up in honor of Hope Hill Acres. We just got a brand-new rehab facility for veterans. People want to show their support for the vets coming in.”
Allie took back every disparaging thought, glad she hadn’t mocked the signs out loud, talking as little as possible so Harper wouldn’t recognize her voice. Unfortunately, she had to ask one more thing.
“Could you please drop me off at the bed-and-breakfast on Main Street?”
She shouldn’t have bothered. Had Harper Finnegan ever done what people told him to do? Hardly.
He didn’t deviate from his usual this time either. He sailed right by Allie’s accommodations and turned at the corner, not stopping until he reached Finnegan’s on the next block.
“Shannon at the B and B doesn’t serve food past eleven in the morning. You need a hot meal. Tell them to put it on my tab. Welcome to Broslin, Abby. Wehopeyou’ll like it here.”
Back when they’d been teenagers, his I’m-the-town-bad-boy-and-I-know-it smile had been devastating. The adult, masculine version curving his lips now…
Allie’s head would have to stop pounding first before she could find a word to truly describe him, so she settled forheart-stopping.That smile and those stormy Irish Sea eyes brought back a million memories she’d spent a lot of years locking away.
Not going to fall forthisagain.
“Thank you,” she said, to prove she could speak.
She refused to be mesmerized by a guy who’d come within an inch of running her over with a snowplow. The very same guy who’d broken her heart ten years back—made her love him, then threw her away.
“If you give me your keys,” he was saying, “I’ll go and tow your car to the B and B. I don’t want the big plow to sideswipe it in the morning by accident. If the snow buries it, Eddie might not see it.” He kept watching her face, narrowing his eyes as if that would give him the ability to see through the scarf. “Have you been to Broslin before?”
She dug into her pocket and handed him the keys. “Thank you.”
Then she pushed the door open and stumbled out of the truck half backward. Caught herself. Did not fall.Score.She slammed the door closed behind her before he could ask any more questions she didn’t want to answer.
As Harper drove away, Allie drew her first easy breath since he’d bent over her in that snowdrift. Her lungs immediately protested the shockingly cold air. The wind threw fresh snow into her face. She wrapped the coat tighter around herself before reaching for her purse…grabbing nothing but buffalo fur.
