Page 41 of For the Love of Lilah
“I could come back.”
“Why, just because I snapped your head off?” She grinned, taking a rag out of her coveralls to wipe her hands. “Buy you a drink?” She jerked her head toward a soft drink machine.
“No, thanks. I just stopped by to ask you about a car.”
“You’re driving Lilah’s, aren’t you? Is it acting up?”
“No. The thing is I might be doing a lot of driving in the next few days, and I don’t feel right using her car. I thought you might know if there’s anything for sale in the area.”
C.C. pursed her lips. “You want to buy a car?”
“Nothing extravagant. Just some convenient transportation. Then when I get back to New York...” He trailed off. He didn’t want to think about going back to New York. “I can always sell it later.”
“It so happens I do know somebody with a car for sale. Me.”
“You?”
Nodding, she stuffed the rag back into her pocket. “With a baby coming, I’ve decided to turn in my Spitfire for a family car.”
“Spitfire?” He wasn’t sure what that was, but it didn’t sound like the kind of car a dignified college professor would drive.
“I’ve had her for years, and I sure would feel better selling her to someone I know.” She already had his hand and was pulling him outside.
There it sat, a fire-engine-red toy with a white rag top and bucket seats. “Well, I...”
“I rebuilt the engine a couple of years ago.” C.C. was busy opening the hood. “She drives like a dream. There’s less than ten thousand miles on the tires. I’m the original owner, so I can guarantee she’s been treated like a lady. And there’s...” She glanced up and grinned. “I sound like a guy in a plaid sports jacket.”
He could see his face in the shiny red paint. “I’ve never owned a sports car.”
The wistfulness in his voice made C.C. smile. “Tell you what, leave me Lilah’s car, drive her around. See how she suits you.”
Max found himself behind the wheel, trying not to grin like a fool as the wind streamed through his hair. What would his students think, he wondered, if they could see sturdy old Dr. Quartermain tooling around in a flashy convertible? They’d probably think he’d gone around the bend. Maybe he had, but he was having the time of his life.
It was a car that would suit Lilah, he thought. He could already see her sitting beside him, her hair dancing as she laughed and lifted her arms to the wind. Or kicked back in the seat, her eyes closed, letting the sun warm her face.
It was a nice dream, and it could come true. At least for a while. And maybe he wouldn’t sell the car when he got back to New York. There was no law that said he had to drive a practical sedan. He could keep it to remind him of a few incredible weeks that had changed his life.
Maybe he’d never be sturdy old Dr. Quartermain again.
He cruised up the winding mountain roads, then back down again to try out the little car in traffic. Delighted with the world in general, he sat at a light, tapping his fingers against the wheel to the beat of the music on the radio.
There were people jamming the sidewalks, crowding the shops. If he’d seen a parking place, he might have whipped in, strolled into a shop himself just to test his endurance. Instead, he entertained himself by watching people scout for that perfect T-shirt.
He noticed the man with dark hair and a trim dark beard standing on the curb, staring at him. Full of himself and the spiffy car, Max grinned and waved. He was halfway down the block before it hit him. He braked, causing a bellow of bad-tempered honking. Thinking fast, he turned a sharp left, streaked down a side street and fought his way through traffic back to the intersection. The man was gone. Max searched the street but couldn’t find a sign of him. He cursed low and bitterly over the lack of a parking space, over his own slow-wittedness.
The hair had been dyed, and the beard had hidden part of the face. But the eyes... Max couldn’t forget the eyes. It had been Caufield standing on the crowded sidewalk, looking at Max not with admiration or absent interest, but with barely controlled rage.
He had himself under control by the time he picked Lilah up at the visitors’ center. He had made what he considered the logical decision not to tell her. The less she knew, the less she was involved. The less she was involved, the better chance there was that she wouldn’t be hurt.
She was too impulsive, he reflected. If she knew Caufield had been in the village, she would try to hunt him down herself. And she was too clever. If she managed to find him... The idea made Max’s blood run cold. No one knew better than he how ruthless the man could be.
When he saw Lilah coming across the lot toward the car, he knew he’d risk anything, even his life, to keep her safe.
“Well, well, what’s this?” Brows lifted, she tapped a finger on the fender. “My old heap wasn’t good enough, so you borrowed my sister’s?”
“What?” Foolishly he’d forgotten the car and everything else since he’d recognized Caufield. “Oh, the car.”
“Yes, the car.” She leaned over to kiss him, and was puzzled by his absent response and the pat on her shoulder.
