A hell of a way to go, Justice thought, still aware that he felt nothing for the old man. Nothing except relief he was gone.
The question of how much of his father lived within him wasn’t anything he was going to discuss with her. That was for the late nights when he was alone and the shadows pressed in. Patience wasn’t a part of that. She was light to his dark, and he didn’t want that to change.
“My head is spinning,” she admitted, then put down her coffee. “You know what’s really twisted? I’m actually still more surprised that you were eighteen when I thought you were sixteen than the fact that you were in a witness protection program because your father wanted you dead. I think that means there’s something wrong with me. I apologize for that.”
He smiled at her. “At least you have priorities.”
She studied him for a second, then ducked her head. “I can’t imagine what you had to go through. Here I was, feeling sorry for myself because I had this crazy crush on you. I wanted to tell you. In fact, I was going to that last day, but Ford walked up.”
He told himself the information was interesting but not important. Even so, he felt a sense of satisfaction, quickly followed by a sense of loss. He’d often wondered what would have happened if he’d just been a regular kid who happened to live in Fool’s Gold. Unfortunately his luck had never been that good.
He knew if he were a halfway-decent guy, he would walk away now. That a man like him had no place in her life. But he couldn’t leave, just as he’d never been able to forget.
“I remember that day,” he admitted. “You were acting like there was something on your mind.”
“There was. You. At fourteen, my girlish heart trembled whenever you were around.”
He liked the sound of that. “That bad, huh?”
She nodded. “I took hope in the fact that you didn’t seem interested in anyone else, but was worried you only saw me as a friend. I was determined to tell you the truth. I was also terrified. What if you didn’t like me back?”
“I did like you. But I was too old for you.”
“I see that now.” She grinned. “Eighteen. How is that possible? I’m totally freaked. I’ll recover but I’ll need a moment.” Her smile faded. “Justice, when you were just gone it was... Well, we all missed you and were worried about you.”
He reached across the table and lightly touched the back of her hand. “I know. I’m sorry about that.”
“It was like you were never there in the first place. I used to walk by the house and hope you’d show up as mysteriously as you’d left.”
He’d hoped she had done that, he admitted, if only to himself. He’d often thought of her, wondering if she remembered him. Some days memories of Patience were all that had gotten him through.
“Were you really here last fall?” she asked.
“Briefly. I had a client.”
“Dominique Guérin. I know. I’m friends with her daughter.” Patience tilted her head. “Why didn’t you look me up then?”
Before he could figure out an excuse that sounded better than he’d been apprehensive—which was, he admitted, a fancy way to say “scared”—a girl walked into the store. She was maybe ten or eleven with long brown hair and familiar brown eyes. She glanced around, then skipped over to their table.
“Hi, Mom.”
Patience turned and smiled. “Hey, baby. How’d you know I was here?”
“Julia told me you were going for coffee.” Her gaze slid to Justice. “With a man.”
Patience sighed. “This town does love to gossip.” She put her arm around the girl. “Lillie, this is Justice Garrett. He’s a friend of mine. Justice, this is my daughter, Lillie.”
CHAPTER TWO
AS SOON AS Patience said the word daughter, she knew there was a problem. How was she supposed to casually mention she wasn’t married in front of her daughter and while Justice’s gaze slid directly to her left ring finger? Just as complicated was the burning need to cut to the chase and blurt out “I’m single.” A need she resisted. Giving him information was one thing. Sounding desperate was another.
“Hi,” Lillie said, leaning into Patience, her expression both shy and curious. “How do you know Mom?”
“I knew her when she was only a little older than you.”
Lillie turned to her. “Really, Mom?”
“Uh-huh. I was fourteen when I knew Justice. He lived here for a while. Then he had to move away. We’re old friends.”
More friends than old, she thought. At least that was her hope.
She kept her arm around her daughter. “Lillie is ten and the smartest, most talented, beautiful girl in all of Fool’s Gold.”
Her daughter giggled. “Mom always says that.” She leaned toward Justice and lowered her voice. “It’s not really true, but she loves me so she believes it.”
“That’s the best kind of love to have.”
She was about to go for it and say she wasn’t married when it occurred to her that she didn’t know anything about Justice’s personal life. She sucked in a breath and fought against the heat she felt burning on her cheeks. What if he was half of a happy couple with a dozen or so charmingly attractive children?
Why, oh why had she admitted she had a crush on him without getting a few facts? She really had to start practicing thinking before speaking. The evening news was always showing great stories about some eighty-year-old getting a high school diploma or learning to read. Surely she could teach herself to self-edit.
“Justice has moved back to Fool’s Gold,” Patience said. “He’s going to...” She paused. “I have no idea what you’re going to do here.”
“Open a bodyguard training facility. My partners and I haven’t worked out the details yet, but we’re going to offer security training for professionals along with corporate team building and survival training.”
“Stuff you do outside?” Lillie asked.
“Uh-huh.”
“Mom doesn’t like going outside.”
Justice turned to her and raised an eyebrow.
“I’m not a huge fan of weather and dirt,” Patience explained. “It’s not like I have to live in a plastic bubble.” She offered a weak smile. “So, um, you’ll be moving your family here?”
“You have a family?” Lillie asked. “Any kids?”
“No. It’s just me.”
A score for the home team, Patience thought with relief. “Lillie is the only one I have,” she said, hoping she sounded casual. “Her dad and I split a long time ago.”
“I don’t remember him,” Lillie offered. “I don’t see him.” She looked as though she was going to say something else, then stopped.
Patience had hoped for some reaction from Justice at the news of her not being married. A fist pump would have been perfect, but there wasn’t any hint as to what he was thinking. At least he didn’t bolt out of the building. She supposed she could take that as a good sign. And he had looked her up on his own. It wasn’t as if she’d gone looking for him or they’d run into each other.
On the other hand, he’d probably left the witness protection program years ago and he’d never bothered to get in touch with her. The men in her life tended to leave. Her father. Lillie’s dad. Justice. A case could be made that Justice hadn’t chosen to leave, but he also hadn’t chosen to reconnect. At least not until now.