LITMIR.BIZ

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never know—you can aggravate someone without even knowing it. Since there are several people now who’ve received these Maverick messages, I’d say this is a sour character who has a lot of grudges.”

      “You’re right. I want to catch him—or her. I’m sure Emily’s computer will be the same as the others—we can’t trace where the messages originated. Maverick may be mean, but he’s not stupid.”

      Nathan followed them outside, and the three of them stood for a moment in the late-afternoon sun. “Emily, since you’ve moved into your uncle’s house here in town, if you need us at any time, just call. I’m glad Tom is there now, because that takes away some worries.”

      “We’ll keep in touch,” Tom promised as he took Emily’s arm lightly. He was saying goodbye to the sheriff, paying little attention to her, but with each of Tom’s touches, the contact was startling. How could he still do this to her when they were no longer in love and headed for divorce? They had no future together, she was annoyed he had taken charge of her life and was staying with her, yet the slightest contact was electrifying. She hoped her reaction didn’t show.

      They told Nathan goodbye and walked to the car. As they drove away, Tom glanced at her. “Let’s stop at the diner and get a burger.”

      “Sure,” she answered, knowing Tom was probably hungry, but suspecting he wanted people in Royal to see them together.

      Everything they did reminded her of old times with him, which made her sad, but at the same time, she couldn’t keep from enjoying his company.

      They drove the short distance down Main and stopped at the Royal Diner for burgers. Too many things she did with Tom reminded her of their life when everything was exciting and they were in love. The reminders hurt and made her realize how her expectations had been destroyed and there wasn’t any putting their marriage back together. They might fool Maverick, but it was going to cost her peace of mind to have Tom hovering around.

      They sat down in a booth upholstered in red faux leather. “How many times have we eaten burgers or had a malt here?” she couldn’t resist asking Tom.

      He smiled at her. “Too many to keep track, but my mind was never on the burgers or the malts.”

      “I doubt mine was, either,” she said, remembering how exciting he was to her. “This is the first place you asked me to go with you—to get a malt.”

      “I remember,” he said, focusing on her with a direct gaze that made her warm. “After you ran into my car.”

      “That was one of the first times I ever took the car. I just didn’t see you when I pulled out of the school parking lot. It’s a good thing you had quick reflexes, because it would have been a worse wreck if you hadn’t put on your brakes.”

      “That seems so long ago. Your uncle Woody was understanding about the whole thing. His insurance paid for my car and he had faith in you. He knew you’d learn to drive, and I guess he figured you’d be more careful after hitting my car.”

      “I was definitely more careful.”

      “It was worth it to get you to pick me up every morning and take me to school while my car was being fixed,” Tom said, smiling at her.

      “I thought so, too,” she said, loving to see him smile. The sad times they’d experienced had taken away smiles and laughter, but before that she had always had more fun with Tom than anyone else. “I liked picking you up, except it was embarrassing, too, because everyone in school knew what I’d done.”

      He leaned across the table, and his voice dropped as he spoke softly. “Remember our first kiss? I do.”

      She looked into his bedroom eyes and drew a deep breath. But it felt as if all the air in the diner suddenly vanished. She couldn’t keep from glancing at Tom’s mouth, thinking about his kisses, remembering them in exacting detail and wanting to kiss him again.

      “Of course I do, but I’m surprised you do.”

      “I do. Why do you think I asked you out again?” he said, those hazel eyes twinkling.

      “It was all exciting, Tom,” she said, full of regret.

      “Then don’t cry about it now. Happy memories. Take the ones that were special and exciting and concentrate on them.”

      “Thank you, Doctor,” she said lightly, smiling at him.

      Their burgers came. She ate half of hers, reflecting on how she didn’t want Tom staying with her but finding no way to avoid it, especially after Nathan said it was a good arrangement.

      They left and she felt certain they would never eat burgers together in the Royal Diner again. She glanced up at Tom as she walked beside him. He was still exciting to her, which was something she didn’t want to feel, because they had no future and all too soon they would officially be divorced. Why did that hurt so badly when it was what they both wanted? Now with him moving in to stay in the same house with her, was she going through another emotional upheaval that would be more difficult and painful to get over than the last time?

      “Want to make a quick stop and see my studio?” she asked impulsively. “It isn’t something you have to do.”

      “No, I’d like to see it.”

      “Turn at the next corner.” She gave him directions and they drove just two more blocks and parked in front. She was sandwiched in between a law office and a popular bakery that had delicious bread. He paused to look at the pictures of babies and dogs and families on display in her front window.

      “Very nice, Em. You’ve turned your hobby into a good business. You’re very good.”

      “Thank you,” she said, feeling he was being polite.

      “I think I may just stand out here and smell the bread,” Tom remarked.

      “It’s fantastic. We can pick up a loaf to take with us. They have specialties. Come in. This is tiny, but big enough for me.”

      He walked around the waiting room, looking at more pictures on the walls. Some of the people he recognized, a lot he didn’t, especially the children. Then he came upon a large framed picture of their son when he was two years old.

      “Em, this is a wonderful picture of Ryan. I want a copy.”

      “I’ll get you one. I’m glad you like it. It makes me happy to see his picture when I come to work.”

      Tom continued looking at the framed photographs. There was one from when the tornado hit Royal, of the damaged town hall with three floors destroyed and the clock tower left standing. “You’re very good at this,” he said, moving to another picture of a black horse in a pasture, the wind blowing its tail, sunlight spilling over its satiny black coat. Tom glanced at her.

      “This looks like my horse Grand.”

      “It is. He’s photogenic and cooperative.”

      “Wow. I’d like a copy of that picture, too.” He leaned closer. “I don’t see a price on these.”

      “You’re special. You can have that picture compliments of the house.”

      “You don’t need to do that.”

      “I want to,” she said, smiling at him.

      “Thanks. It’s a great picture of him.”

      “Come see where I take pictures and my desk.”

      He walked around and bent down to look through a camera set on a tripod. Across from him was a backdrop of a field of green grass.

      “Tom, let me take your picture.”

      He grinned at her. “You’re kidding. You know what I look like.”

      She took his arm. “Come stand and let me have a picture of you. I might want it on cold winter nights when you’re not with me.”

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