Kathy Douglass

The Waitress's Secret


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      He started the truck and drove down the street, passing the town’s lone gas station. The lights over the pumps were dim, casting odd shadows on the street. Not a soul was around. “You’ll be perfectly safe. My sister, Joni, lives with me.”

      “And she’ll be there?”

      He nodded and stopped at the corner. He grabbed his cell phone, punched in his home number and put the phone on speaker. Joni answered on the third ring.

      “Hey, Brandon.”

      “Joni, I’ll be home in a couple of minutes. I’m bringing someone with me.”

      Joni laughed. “I know. I just got off the phone with Kristina.”

      “That woman is in the wrong business. She should be a reporter.”

      Joni laughed again. “Can your friend hear me?”

      “Yeah.”

      Brandon looked at Arden, who smiled tentatively.

      “Don’t worry. My brother is perfectly harmless. And I know you’re soaked to the skin. I have dry clothes ready for you to change into.”

      “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

      “Not a problem.”

      Brandon ended the call and looked at Arden. “Better?”

      She smiled and for a second the sun seemed to break through the clouds. He felt a stirring where his heart used to be and immediately quashed it.

      “Much better. Thanks for calling her.”

      “Sure. I can’t have you worried about your safety like some woman in a horror story.”

      Arden glanced at the dark street. The wind was blowing the trees every which way, casting shadows that shifted so much they looked like arms reaching out to grab something. “It does look kind of creepy out here. Like some chainsaw-wielding maniac could jump from a dark corner and attack us. Well, me anyway. You’re kind of big for someone to mess with.”

      Brandon continued driving. “Don’t worry. There’s no one hiding in the shadows or anywhere else. And if someone did try to hurt you, I’d protect you.”

      The grateful look she sent him made his chest grow tight and warmed the cold bitterness in his soul. He rubbed his hand across the raised scar near his heart as a reminder to keep his emotional distance. The last time he’d gotten close to a woman he’d ended up in intensive care. It was okay to be friendly—Arden needed that to be at ease. But genial chatter was one thing; an emotional connection was something entirely different.

      “My brothers always said I have a vivid imagination. Which is why I never watch scary movies.”

      “Never?”

      “Not ever. Afterward, I’d be so busy checking under my bed and jumping at every bump in the night that I’d never get any sleep.”

      He nodded. “That’s our house right there. Third one on the left.”

      Arden leaned back in her seat and sighed. “It looks normal from here.”

      “We keep the dragon in the basement.”

      “That’s good to know.” She leaned forward and peered out the window at the rising water. “What I really want to know is where you keep the rowboat.”

      “Not interested in wading through the water again?”

      “No.” She looked down at her ruined sandals. “Once was enough for me. I think I can cross that off my bucket list.”

      “Walking through rainwater up to your ankles was on your bucket list?”

      She lifted the corner of her mouth in a mischievous grin. “I want to have a wide range of experiences.”

      “I’m glad we could oblige,” he said, pulling into the driveway.

      * * *

      Less than a minute later they were running through the large backyard and racing up a flight of stairs. A woman Arden assumed was Brandon’s sister opened the door and stepped back to let them inside. She had friendly eyes and introduced herself with a bright smile.

      “It’s really coming down out there,” Joni said, closing the door against the wind. Arden slipped off her damp and muddy sandals and placed them beside the door so she wouldn’t track mud through the house. Joni led the way through the utility room and into the kitchen. The room was huge, with restaurant-quality appliances. There were miles of glistening marble countertops. A solid wood farmhouse table sat near an unlit stone fireplace. Wonderful aromas floated in the air and Arden’s stomach growled.

      “Sorry.” Cheeks burning, Arden placed a hand over her stomach, trying to muffle the sound.

      Joni waved away Arden’s apology. “Don’t be. You’re not only soaked to the bone, you’re also hungry. If I were you I’d be grabbing food from the pots with my bare hands.”

      Arden laughed, her embarrassment dissipating. She liked Joni.

      “I’ve got some dry clothes for you that will fit better than my brother’s jacket. Come on, you can take a quick shower and get warm. You’ll feel a lot better. It’ll be a few minutes before dinner’s ready.”

      Warm water and dry clothes sounded wonderful. “Are you sure you don’t mind? I don’t want to put you out.”

      “Nonsense. It’s no bother.”

      “Thanks.”

      “The stairs are this way.”

      Joni put her arm around Arden in a sisterly way and led her farther into the house. Although Arden had run as fast as she dared through the slippery yard, she’d still gotten drenched again. She hated dripping onto the beautiful hardwood floor, but she couldn’t strip in the kitchen.

      Joni didn’t seem to mind about the mess, and seconds later they were climbing a flight of stairs. Brandon followed them in silence.

      “You can use this room,” Joni said, opening a door to a bedroom and stepping through to the en suite. “Brandon had some renovations done to the house when we moved here. He turned a couple of tiny rooms into bathrooms. I didn’t agree with his decision at first, but I totally love it now.”

      As she talked, Joni bustled about the room, pulling plush towels out of a linen closet, then stacking them on the marble counter. She grabbed bottles of shampoo and conditioner and several different types of body wash from a cabinet beside the sink. “I’ll be right back.”

      Arden nodded, grateful when the other woman returned with a stack of dry clothes.

      After Joni left, Arden took one look in the mirror and groaned. Her makeup was completely washed off, but her face was far from clean. Somehow mud had gotten spattered on her cheeks, with one long smear down the side of her face. Her wet hair was wind whipped and going in every direction. She ran her hand through it and discovered a leaf-covered twig had gotten tangled in her mane, completing the puppy-playing-in-a-mud-puddle look. She stripped and stepped into the shower.

      A moan of pure pleasure escaped her lips as the hot water began to warm her, slowing the chatter of her teeth. No shower had ever felt this good. If it wasn’t for the fact that her hosts were waiting for her, she’d spend the next hour letting the warm water pound every ache out of her body. As a guest, an unexpected one at that, it would be rude to linger.

      She hurriedly poured shampoo into her hands and quickly lathered her hair. Joni used the same brand she did and the familiar scent soothed the last of Arden’s nerves. Her remaining tension disappeared down the drain with the bubbles.

      She gathered her wet clothes and placed them on the counter. She would ask Joni where she could launder them later. Joni had left an assortment of clothes and she sorted through them before selecting a long-sleeved cotton top and denim pants. The jeans were a little long, so she rolled them