By the time Sonja was satisfied that her committee had his support, her friend was pulling the cart outside and Faith was ringing up the potatoes, corn and lettuce for Ms. Taylor, the library clerk. A moment later, he and Faith were alone. Dust, shimmering in the sunlight, billowed out front as the two vehicles reversed.
Faith turned to look at him as he walked toward her. Her face was nearly expressionless. “Do you have news, Chief Wheeler?”
Not Ben. She hadn’t called him Ben in weeks.
“No,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to alarm you. I only stopped by to be sure you’re all right, and that you haven’t heard from Hardesty.”
A shadow passed over her eyes, as if a cloud had blocked the sun from a lake’s surface. But after a moment she shook her head. “If I could tell you how to find him, don’t you think I would?”
No, he wasn’t sure at all. He was very much afraid that Faith still had mixed feelings about her ex-husband. Despite what that scum had done to her, she was the kind of woman who believed in redemption and who wanted to forgive.
Granted, ultimately she’d divorced him. But Ben had asked himself, what was to say she didn’t still want to believe that the man she’d married—and presumably once loved—was really a decent guy, somewhere deep inside? Ben had seen a photo of her taken at the hospital after the brutal beating. The mere idea of Faith, battered and bloodied and bruised, made a tide of violence rise in him.
She would only withdraw further from him if she knew what he was thinking, though, so all Ben could do was say, “Yeah. That doesn’t mean he hasn’t left a message or sent you some kind of little reminder.”
If he hadn’t been looking closely, he might have missed seeing her flinch. She suppressed it quickly and managed to stare straight at him.
“I’ll let you know if I hear from Rory.”
God damn it. She did know something.
But he only nodded brusquely. “All right.” He cleared his throat. “Are you still getting some time in at the gun range?”
“Yes, but not as much.” She made a helpless gesture. “I’m … pretty busy.”
Yeah, that was one way to put it. She was working full-time as a teacher and running a business, too. Not to mention caring for her father. She looked more worn down every time he saw her. Sooner or later, he was afraid, she’d break.
The thought made him feel sick and helpless, and roughened his voice. “Do you keep the gun with you?”
She nodded. “It’s in my purse behind the counter.”
He had mixed feelings about the idea of her owning a handgun at all. Like most cops, Ben would have been happiest if no civilians were armed. In Faith’s case, he was far from convinced that she’d have what it took to shoot her ex-husband. On the other hand, twenty-four-hour-a-day protection for her wasn’t an option, and if Ben knew one thing, it was that Hardesty would be back. His attacks had escalated. He wasn’t done.
Ben frowned. “It would be better if you had it on you.”
“I don’t have enough cleavage to tuck it in my bra,” Faith snapped. “Sorry.”
No, she didn’t have big breasts, but he liked what she had just fine. More than fine. She was long and limber and sexy.
He was very careful not to let his gaze drop to her body, although he was painfully aware of it and how little she wore. The summer heat wave had persisted into October, and it was too damn hot in here for her to wear an overshirt to conceal any kind of holster. The snug-fitting cropped chinos she wore with a cap-sleeved T-shirt that barely touched the waistband of her pants left nowhere to hide anything.
He thrummed with the effort it took not to look.
“Rory wouldn’t dare attack me in here, anyway,” she said, and Ben realized she was blushing. He wondered what she’d seen on his face.
“The time he walked in here and your sister ordered him off the property, she thought he’d have hit her if Gray hadn’t come in.”
Gray Van Dusen was another sore point for Ben. He was the mayor of West Fork who had hired Ben as a big-city cop to keep this small town safe. Gray had been enraged when Ben had failed to prevent Charlotte from being attacked and hurt—it so happened that Mayor Van Dusen was deeply in love with Charlotte Russell.
Ben didn’t have many friends who weren’t cops, but he’d thought Gray might be one. No chance of that anymore. The tension between them hadn’t yet gotten in the way of their working relationship, but sooner or later it would if not resolved.
“I’m rarely alone for more than a few minutes,” Faith said. “And I promise you, if I see Rory walk in I’ll head straight to the counter and grab the gun.”
“What do you do at night?”
“I put it under my extra pillow.”
He hated the idea of her having to snuggle up in bed with a Colt .38. His voice had descended to a growl when he said, “I suppose you can’t carry a handgun at school.”
Faith looked shocked. “I hope you wouldn’t seriously suggest that!”
He reached up and kneaded the taut muscles in his neck. “No. You should be safe there, anyway.”
“You know, he might have given up. Or … shocked even himself, when he saw what he’d done to Charlotte.
That’s what—” She stopped so abruptly, his eyes narrowed. “What?”
Her pupils dilated. “I was just going to say, that’s what I think.”
Uh-huh, sure she was. Damn it, had she talked to the scum and wasn’t admitting it? Why?
“I saw the pictures that were taken the night you came into Emergency,” he said flatly. “I’ve seen damn near everything, and those shocked me. Seems what he did to you didn’t shock him. Don’t kid yourself—all he’s doing is lying low.”
She stared at him for a stricken moment, then turned and walked away.
Swearing under his breath, Ben followed.
“Faith …”
Radiating anger and pain, she spun to face him. “Why are you here?”
To see you. To know you’re okay, if not happy. “I’m doing my job.”
“Scaring me? Trying to intimidate me? That’s your job?”
He willed his expression to go blank. “I have never, and will never, try to intimidate you. Scare you, yes. Until you’re willing to admit Hardesty is capable of really hurting you …”
A shudder ran through her, and then she was screaming at him, “I believe it! I saw what he did to Charlotte! I know what he did to me!” She swallowed. Ended in a whisper. “Do you think I wasn’t there?”
He couldn’t stand it. Ben reached out to pull her against him.
Faith backed away so fast she bumped against one of the stools behind the counter. When he took another step toward her, she whipped behind the stool and gripped it with both hands as if she was prepared to brandish it like a lion tamer to hold him off. Her eyes were wild.
“I want you to leave.”
“I didn’t mean to …”
“Now.”
God. Feeling as though his chest was being crushed—as if he’d been the one under the tractor, not Don Russell—Ben backed away.
“I’m sorry, Faith,” he said, throat feeling raw.
She didn’t say anything, only stared at him with that same angry ferocity.