“Why, is he dangerous?”
“I just want to talk to him.”
There was a pause and Myron held his breath. “He was here earlier, but he left,” she finally said, and if Myron hadn’t been hiding, he would have kissed her.
“How long ago did he leave?”
“About an hour.”
“Did you see which way he went?”
“No,” she answered. And since Myron couldn’t kiss her, he ran his hand up her calf, under the jean skirt she wore, to her knee and gave it a pat.
“Well, if you see him again, be sure and call the sheriff’s Dispatch.”
She didn’t say anything for another long moment and he wondered if she was going to kick him or turn him in. “Why, what’s he done?”
“He’s in violation of a restraining order.”
“From who?”
“Ms. Spencer.”
“Oh.” This time she did kick him.
“What’s the matter?” the sheriff asked.
“Nothing. Just squishing a bug.” Myron wrapped his arm around her thigh and hung on so she couldn’t kick him again. She got real still, and he waited for her to squeal on him.
“If you see him near the Winnebago, give us a call.”
“I’ll do that.”
The bootheels faded and the door opened and shut. “Is he gone?” Myron whispered.
“Get your hand out from under my skirt!”
Slowly Myron slipped his palm down her soft thigh to her knee. “You have great skin.”
She took a step back and stared down at him as if he really were a bug. “You’re here to chase after Hope Spencer.”
“ ‘Chase’ is an awfully strong word.” He stood, then hoisted himself up onto the counter. He sat on the edge facing Paris, which nearly brought him to her height. “I just need her to do one little thing for me.”
“What’s that? Have your baby?”
“Hell, no. I hate that woman.”
The frown wrinkling Paris’s brow lifted. “You do?”
“Yes. She ruined my life.”
“Mine, too. Ever since she drove into town, all the men have been chasing after her.”
“Hope? She’s too scrawny.”
“Oh, you’re just saying that.”
“No. I like full-figured gals.” He looked her up and down. “Gals like you.”
Hope shoved her hands into a pair of sturdy work gloves and tackled the weeds growing in the old rose garden in front of the Donnelly house. The late-afternoon sun beat down on her head, covered with her Gap hat, while insects buzzed around her. She wore a pair of beige shorts and a red tank top, and she’d protected her exposed skin with sunscreen and bug juice. On the porch sat her big covered tankard of iced tea, and Bonnie Raitt sang from the CD player.
It had been three days since she’d first seen Myron outside the M & S. She hadn’t seen him again, but she’d heard from him. She didn’t know how he’d gotten her unlisted phone number, but he had, and although he never said anything, she knew it was him. She recognized his breathing. He’d done the same thing when he’d followed her to L.A.
When she’d told Shelly about it, her friend had waved aside Hope’s fear as nothing to be concerned about, but after the creepy phone calls kept coming, Shelly volunteered Paul to kick Myron’s ass. If only it were that simple. Hope knew from prior experience with Myron that he was very good at hiding.
“What’re ya doin‘?”
Hope looked over her shoulder at the two little boys walking into her yard wearing nothing but their swimming suits and cowboy boots. Wally’s gaze quickly moved to the big sickle leaning against the house, while Adam kept his eyes glued to the ground.
At the sight of Adam, Hope felt a warm little glow in her heart. She was surprised at how glad she was to see him. At how much she’d come to care for him in such a short time. A little boy who had a passion for rocks and anything gross. “Do you boys have sunscreen on?”
Wally nodded and asked again, “What’re you doin‘?”
“I’m trying to clear this rose bed.”
“Need help?” he asked.
Under normal circumstance, she would have welcomed help from anyone who offered. “No, thanks.”
“You could pay us,” Wally continued as if she hadn’t refused the offer. “And we’d do a good job, too.”
Hope looked at Adam and he finally took his gaze off his shoes and his eyes met hers. His cheeks flushed; then he looked away, as if he were embarrassed and uncertain. “I would, but I don’t think Adam’s father would be too happy if he saw him here.”
“He won’t care. Will he, Adam?”
Adam shook his head. “No, he won’t care if I pull your weeds.”
She knew better. “I’ll tell you what,” she said, rather than argue. “You go get hold of your dad and ask him. If he says it’s okay, I’ll hire you both.”
“Okay,” they said at the same time and darted across the street.
Hope watched them disappear and didn’t believe there was even a slim chance that the boys would come back. Her thoughts returned to Myron as she got busy pulling the fireweeds choking the garden under the front window. Earlier, someone from the sheriff’s office had called to say that Myron’s Winnebago had disappeared and they thought he’d left town. Hope knew better, but she hadn’t said anything. The last time she’d gone for help, she’d been sent into Dylan’s office. She’d rather face harassment by Myron than gaze across a room and see Dylan’s blank face looking back at her.
Myron drove her insane, but at least he didn’t hurt her. She tugged a big weed from the ground and tossed it on a pile. She would rather be driven crazy by a demented dwarf than have her heart continually crushed by Dylan’s disinterest.
She glanced up as the boys returned.
“Adam’s dad said it was okay.”
Hope couldn’t believe Dylan would allow his son around her. Not after he’d told her to stay away from him. “Did he really say that?” she asked Adam.
He looked her right in the eyes and said, “Yeah, he did.”
“And he said you could work for me? You mentioned
“Yes.”
Surprised and perhaps a tiny bit relieved that maybe Dylan didn’t think she was such a horrible person after all, she took off her gloves and dropped them on the ground. “Well, okay. Follow me.” She led them into the house and gave them each a pair of pink rubber gloves she used to wash dishes. She poured them iced tea with lots of sugar; then they went back outside and got to work. Wally talked almost nonstop, but Adam was much more quiet than usual.
“Hope, I have a question,” Wally announced as he tackled a weed almost as tall as he was.
She looked up. “Go ahead, but I don’t have to answer if I don’t feel like it.”
“Okay.” He tossed the weed onto the pile. “Can I drive your car sometime?”
She glanced at her Porsche parked in the driveway. “Yes.” Wally’s face broke into a big smile, until she added, “When you’re sixteen and have your license.”
He sighed. “Oh, man.” Then, together, he and Adam worked on a weed that took both of them to pull it from the ground.
As Hope knelt in a different bed a few feet away, she watched Adam out of the corner of her eye. She watched him closely, and over the course of the next hour, he looked at her whenever he thought she wasn’t looking at him,
