Page 6 of Dangerous Secrets
“What’s that supposed tomean, what you said, that you’re not the one with a memoryproblem?”
She clamped her mouth shut.So manywords wanted to tumble out, if she let them loose, it’d be morningbefore she was done telling him what she really wanted to say.Shewent with safe.“Nothing.What are you doing?”The scent of freshlysawn wood brought a cascade of memories.The workshop was whereshe’d always felt closest to James, which was probably why hergrief had led her there.
“What I need to do.”Itwas no surprise he didn’t challenge her diversion.They each seemedto be picking their way around the other, careful where theystepped.
With a last narrow-eyed look at her,he deposited the dog in a wood crate lined with a folded towel.Walker left her at the door and crossed the room to where the tablesaw stood ready.Callie immediately went to settle in the dog bedJames had placed for her in a corner.
A freshly ripped pine board leanedagainst a wall next to the workbench.Ignoring Delaney, Walkerreached under the guard to flip a switch and the table saw hummedto life.The blade whirred and made conversation impossible, whichwas probably exactly what he intended.
He slowly fed another board through,the blade screeching as wood shavings spewed.He’d pulled his thickhair back from his face with a band, and the goggles were down,protecting his eyes.
She steeled herself against his pull.Why hadn’t he developed a beer belly and thinning hair?If therewas any fairness in the world, James would’ve been working that sawand Walker would be someplace far away where he couldn’t disrupther life by simply occupying the same space.
She closed the door to keep out thecold and looked around the shop, telling herself to get a grip.Herheartrate had yet to settle, and being in an enclosed space withWalker made her skin feel prickly in a weird kind of subliminalresponse.
The thought made her uneasy.Shedidn’t want that.She was too smart to risk falling in love withhim all over again.
No way did she want to deal with thedevastation when he left yet again.Maybe she should leave the farmfor a few days, let Walker have his visit, and she’d return when hewas gone.That would be smart, and certainly better than losingcontrol of her emotions, especially since anger was mixed up withthe remnants of her first love and she was discovering that withhim home, it was taking increasing effort to hold back long bankedunwanted feelings.
Even smarter would be to find out whathe planned, see how long he intended to stay, then she could adjusther own schedule to avoid him.
Keeley Montaigne, Delaney’s bestfriend since fifth grade, lived forty-five miles away inSacramento, and when Delaney told her of Walker’s imminent arrival,she’d immediately offered an escape by inviting Delaney for a visitof undetermined duration.
But there was the funeral and summerseason starting at the farm in a matter of weeks, so she couldn’tbail.But she’d keep Keeley’s invitation in her back pocket in caseof emergency.
Walker leaned the long board againstthe wall, then lifted another from a stack, his flannel shirtstraining over flexing muscles.She skirted the table saw, stayingout of range of the sawdust but keeping Walker in her peripheralvision.
The stool stood in the corner in thesame spot where she’d sat a hundred times while watching Jameswork.
She’d never had any interest inlearning woodworking herself and had been content to sit and watch,sometimes talking in the stretches of time when the power toolswere quiet.She couldn’t sit on that stool now.Her emotions weresimply too raw.
Instead, she wandered to theworkbench, picking up a woodworking tool and examining it beforesetting it down and moving to the next one.Some of the toolslooked older than she was, meticulously clean, their grips wellworn.
James had been a stickler for takingcare of his tools and keeping the shop tidy.Memories of himholding these tools in his hands had her lifting her shoulder towipe the dampness from her cheek.
A knife with a bone handle in aleather sheath rested on the bench.She unsnapped the handle,pulling the long blade free.It looked wicked sharp and she testedits edge.A snarled oath had her jerking and a tiny pearl of bloodwelled from her thumb.She gave a startled yelp when the knife wassnatched from her grip.
“What the hell are youdoing, preparing for a blood sacrifice?”Walker grasped her wristwith one hand, stashing the knife on a high shelf while reachingfor the blue and white first aid kit with the other.
“I didn’t expect it to beso sharp.And I wouldn’t have cut myself if you hadn’t made mejump.Is that your knife?I don’t remember James having a knifelike that.”
He grabbed the knife again and showedher his name carved into the handle.“Of course, it’s my knife, andof course it’s sharp.That was a fucking stupid thing to do.I’dhave put it up out of reach first thing if I’d known a toddlerwould come wandering in.”
“You’re overreacting.”Pulling her arm to get away from him was like trying to break steelshackles.
They were standing close, theglittering fire in those green eyes enough to scorch her skin.Sheswallowed convulsively, holding back a sigh over the lost hope thatwhatever it was about him that’d made her act so foolishly allthose years ago had faded away.
It hadn’t.
She still felt stupidly attuned to himin a way that made her want to bite that spot on his neck justabove his collarbone.Not that she would dare, but even the idea ofit made her feel uncomfortably hot.
He snatched a Band-Aid from the kit,tearing the wrapper with his white teeth.In quick, efficient moveshe wrapped the bandage around her thumb before releasing her.Shestepped back, rubbing her wrist against her jacket to erase thefeeling of him touching her skin.
She hoped he hadn’t noticed the pulsehammering just under her skin.“Why are you here?I saw you leavingearlier.”
“I’m here.Get used toit.”He paused and jammed his hands in his pockets like it waseither that or throttle her.
She felt marginally better knowing herpresence unnerved him at least a little.He sighed, then continuedspeaking.
