do you think you’ve got left in you?
She would have risen to her feet and started to walk away if she could have, but her legs felt oddly weak and disjointed, as if they didn’t quite belong to her. Susan was actually afraid that if she tried to stand up, her knees would give way beneath her and she would collapse back onto the bench. Then Duke would really look contemptuously at her, and she didn’t think she was up to that.
Not that it should matter to her what Duke Colton thought, or didn’t think, of her, she silently told herself in the next breath. She just didn’t want to look like a complete idiot, that was all. Her nose was probably already red and her eyes had to be exceedingly puffy by now.
Crossing to her, still not uttering a single word in acknowledgment of her present state or even so much as a greeting, Duke abruptly shoved his hand into his pocket, extracted something and held it out to her.
Susan blinked. Duke was holding out a surprisingly neatly folded white handkerchief.
When she made no move to take it from him, he all but growled, “Here, you seem to need this a lot more than I do.”
Embarrassment colored her cheeks, making her complexion entirely pink at this point. “No, that’s all right,” she sniffed, again vainly trying to brush away what amounted to a sheet’s worth of tears with the back of her hand.
“Take it.” This time he did growl and it was an unmistakable command that left no room for refusal or even wavering debate.
Sniffing again, Susan took the handkerchief from him and murmured a barely audible, “Thank you.”
He said nothing for a moment, only watched her as she slid the material along first one cheek and then the other, drying the tear stains from her skin.
When she stopped, he coaxed her on further, saying, “You can blow your nose with it. It won’t rip. I’ve used it myself. Not this time,” he corrected uncomfortably. “It’s been washed since then.”
A glimmer of a smile of amusement flittered across her lips. Susan couldn’t begin to explain why, but she felt better. A lot better. As if the pain that had been growing inside of her had suddenly abated and begun shrinking back down to a manageable size.
She was about to say something to him about his kindness and about his riding to the rescue—something that seemed to suit his tall, dark, closed-mouth demeanor—when she heard someone calling out her name.
Linc. She’d know his voice anywhere. Even when it had an impatient edge to it.
The next moment, Linc was next to her, enveloping her in a hug. Without meaning to, she felt herself stiffening. She didn’t want to be hugged. She didn’t want to be pitied or treated like some fragile child who’d been bruised and needed protection.
If he noticed her reaction, Linc gave no indication that it registered. Instead, leaving the embrace, he slipped his arm around her shoulders, still offering protection.
“There you are, Susan. Everyone’s worried about you,” he said, as if he was part of her family. “I came to bring you home,” he announced a bit louder than he needed to. And then his voice took on an affectionate, scolding tone. “I told you that you shouldn’t have come here without me.” Still holding her to him, he brushed aside a tear that she must have missed. “C’mon, honey, let’s get you out of here.”
A while back, she’d allowed their friendship to drift toward something more. But it had been a mistake. She didn’t feel that way about Linc. She’d tried to let him down gently, to let him know politely that it was his friendship she valued, that there was never going to be anything else between them. But Linc seemed not to get the message. He seemed very comfortable with the notion of taking control of her life.
She found herself chafing against that notion and feeling restless.
He was being rude and completely ignoring Duke, she thought. Duke might not care, but she did.
Susan turned to say something to the rancher, to thank him for his handkerchief and his thoughtfulness, but when she looked where he’d just been, he was gone.
He’d left without saying another word to her.
The next moment, Linc was ushering her away, leading her toward the parking lot. She heard him talking to her, saying something about how relieved he was, or words to that effect.
But her mind was elsewhere.
Chapter 2
You really shouldn’t try to face these kinds of things alone, Susan,” Linc quietly chided her as he guided Susan to his car. Once beside the shiny silver convertible, he stopped walking. “I’m here for you, you know that. And I’ll always be here for you,” he told her with firm enthusiasm.
“Yes, I know that.” Fidgeting inside, Susan looked around the lot, trying to remember where she’d parked her own car. Linc meant well, but she really wanted to be by herself right now. “And I appreciate everything you’re trying to do, Linc, but—”
Her voice trailed off for a moment. How did she tell him that he was crowding her without sounding as if she was being completely ungrateful? He was only trying to be kind, to second-guess her needs, she knew all that. But despite all that, despite his good intentions and her understanding, it still felt as if he was sucking up all the oxygen around her and she just couldn’t put up with that right now.
Maybe later, when things settled down and fell into place she could appreciate Linc for what he was trying to do, but right now, she felt as if she desperately needed her space, needed to somehow make peace with this sorrow that kept insisting on finding her no matter which way she turned.
Linc opened the passenger door, but she continued to stand there, scanning the lot. He frowned. “What are you looking for? “
“My car.” Even as she said it, Susan spotted her silver-blue four-door sedan. She breathed a sigh of relief.
He opened the passenger door wider, silently insisting that she get inside. “You’re not up to driving, Susan. I’ll take you home.”
Her eyes met his. Susan did her best to keep her voice on an even keel, even though her temper felt suddenly very brittle.
“Don’t tell me what I can or can’t do, Linc. I can drive. I want to drive my car,” she told him with emphasis.
He pantomimed pressing something down with both hands. Her temper? Was that what he was insinuating? She felt her temper flaring.
“Don’t get hysterical, Susan,” he warned.
The words, not to mention the action, were tantamount to waving a red flag in front of her. If the words were meant to subdue her, they achieved the exact opposite effect.
“I am not hysterical, Linc,” she informed him firmly, “I just want to be alone for a while.”
“You didn’t look very alone a couple of minutes ago.” For a moment she thought he was going to pout, then abruptly his expression changed, as if he’d suddenly come up with an answer that satisfied him. “Was he bothering you?”
Susan stared at Linc, confused and wondering how he’d come to that kind of conclusion. Based on what? “Who?” she wanted to know.
“That Colton guy. You know who I mean. His brother killed Lucy Walsh’s father,” he said impatiently, trying to remember the man’s name. “Duke,” he finally recalled, then asked again as he peered at her face, “Was he bothering you?”
She felt as if Linc was suddenly interrogating her. Not only that, but she felt rather defensive for Duke, although she really hadn’t a clue as to why. She’d had a crush on him when she was a teenager, but that was years in the past.
Still, he’d stopped and given her a handkerchief when he didn’t have to.