Page 16 of Wandering Souls

He tried to imagine what she’d experienced but couldn’t. What he knew of Afghanistan and the war on terror he’d gleaned from news stories. Aside from Hollywood and the other Shadow Soldiers, he didn’t know anyone who’d served in armed conflict. So far removed from that world, he had nothing of value to offer, except compassion and a strong shoulder to cry on.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, keeping his voice low. “I don’t know what you went through but I’m certain you’re in good hands here. Hollywood understands, and there are others in town.”

Wiping her eyes, she turned back toward him. “Thank you.”

“I might not have been to war, but I understand trauma, Abigail. If you need to talk, I’d be happy to lend an ear.”

She took a deep breath. “Everyone keeps offering their help. It’s a little disconcerting.”

“Why?”

Her eyebrows arched high on her forehead. “Because I’m a stranger and in town for a short while. No one needs to help me.”

“Perhaps not,” he smiled, “but you’ll soon learn the folks of the Crossing are generous beyond explanation. Take up the offers while you have them, I say. We all need a little help now and then.”

She studied him for a long moment as a breeze rustled through the grass. The sound of a light engine flew overhead but he observed her as she analyzed him. What did she saw when she looked at him?

A brother desperate to convince his sister to move out of Melbourne’s rat race? An uncle who missed his niece dearly? Did she see a burnt-out copper who’d almost got himself killed? Or just a tall, red-headed nosy Parker who should probably leave right about now?

A smile curved her pretty mouth. “When did you need help, Detective Ray Wells? Before or after you experienced trauma?”

Perceptive.He inclined his head to acknowledge her insight. “Before and after.”

The tension left her body as she patted Bruce. “Have you always lived here in Wills Crossing?”

“Melbourne, born and bred. Moved here in March for a job and haven’t looked back.” Didn’t want to, either. “You?”

“Brisbane, Queensland.”

“How did you find out about this place?”

“I saw an ad. Figured a change of scenery was in order.”

“Well.” He nodded. “Like I said, Hollywood knows what he’s talking about. As does Doc, Colt Manning. How long do you think you’ll stay?”

Something dark passed through her eyes. “I have to go back at the end of January.”

For...what? Ray bit the inside of his mouth to stop from asking, suspecting there was more to her story. She didn’t seem comfortable enough to talk about it, yet. Instead, he smiled and squeezed her arm. “You’ll be here through Christmas?”

“Seems, I will.”

Why she wouldn’t want to go home for the holidays intrigued him but he decided he’d had enough success in getting her to open up for one day. Ray turned his attention to Bruce, who’d settled on the ground and rested his head on her feet. It almost seemed unfair to separate them, but he didn’t want to outstay his welcome.

“You ready to go home, Bruce?”

The dog looked up, huffed and then put his head back on Abigail’s feet. She smiled and reached down to scratch him behind the ear. “Go on,” she whispered. “It’s okay.”

Bruce didn’t move.

“Looks like you’ve made a friend,” Ray chuckled. “You should meet us for obedience school. Maybe he’ll listen to you.”

Though her eyes remained on the dog, she smiled. He liked the way it lifted her cheeks and caused fine creases at the corner of her eyes. “Tempting offer, Detective, but since he’s your dog, you need to learn how to control him.”

“Ouch,” he said playfully. “But fair. Perhaps we can meet afterwards, for that coffee? The bakery in town serves up a great breakfast.”

Her head snapped upward. “Breakfast, too?”

Ray tried for an innocent expression, at which she chuckled and sat up. “Everyone needs to eat. See you at eight?”

---