LITMIR.BIZ

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worth.

      She reined in her temper. “Thank you.”

      He didn’t acknowledge her thanks. “You don’t happen to have a smoke, do you?”

      She almost walked back to the Prius for her purse before it occurred to her that of course she wouldn’t have a smoke. She hadn’t bought a pack of cigarettes since she’d gotten pregnant with Cassia nearly six years ago. “No.”

      He touched his mouth and looked at his fingers, checking to see if his lip was bleeding again. “I never smoke unless I’m drinking,” he explained. “It’s been a year since I’ve done even that. But I’ll be damned if I couldn’t use a cigarette right now.”

      “I quit when I was twenty-four.” She hadn’t been the same person in those days...

      He raked his fingers through his light brown hair. It was a little too long, but she admired the way it fell loose and went curly at the ends. “Can I use your phone?” he asked.

      The moment she handed it to him, he turned away and kicked a pebble from foot to foot while waiting for the person he’d called to pick up.

      She knew someone had answered when he straightened and forgot about messing with that rock. “You’re not going to believe this,” he said. “It’s me...Our new neighbor’s...Yes, that neighbor...Stop. Listen, I need some help. Remember that guy who was bothering Natasha? The one we warned to stay away?...Yeah, him. He wrecked into the back of my bike.”

      Rod didn’t explain that he’d been driving it at the time, which seemed like a salient point to India. He could’ve been killed. But she wasn’t about to get involved in his conversation.

      “No, I’m not kidding,” he said. “Uh-huh...Don’t worry, I doubt he’ll ever mess with her again.” He slowly gravitated over to the man he’d knocked out and nudged him with one foot.

      No response.

      “I can’t leave yet,” he said, stalking off in the other direction. “I’m waiting for the ambulance...Yes, ambulance. The asshole’s out cold...What would you have done? He had no business hitting my bike. I’m lucky I can still walk...Of course I was riding it at the time! I was driving home.”

      There, the information had finally come out. India took a deep breath and told herself to relax.

      Usually, it cooled off at night when the Delta breeze swept in. That was what she loved about Northern California. But they’d been going through a terrible heat wave since she’d moved to Whiskey Creek. Part of her discomfort had to be due to the stress of the situation, but it felt like a hundred degrees outside, as it had been earlier in the day.

      “Right. So can you bring the trailer and get my bike?” she heard Rod say. “How would I know? Chief Bennett’s going to give me hell. He might even take me down to the station to get a statement or try to lock me up for the night...True...No, don’t call Dylan or Aaron. I can handle my own problems.”

      He disconnected and was about to return her phone when he saw he’d gotten blood on it. After wiping it on his jeans, he gave it back. “Sorry.”

      “No problem.” She held on to the phone, since she didn’t have a pocket and her purse was in the car. “That was...one of your brothers?”

      “Yeah.”

      Still no headlights coming from Whiskey Creek. What was taking emergency services so long? She and Rod—and the man who needed the ambulance—weren’t that far from town. “Which one?”

      “Grady. He’s driving over to get my bike.”

      “Is he older, or...”

      “Dylan and Aaron are older. Grady and Mack are younger.”

      “Would you mind if I asked how old you are?” They were both young enough that she couldn’t imagine it would be an offensive question.

      “Thirty-one. You?”

      She considered taking off her heels but was afraid she might cut her foot on a rock, nail or piece of glass. “Thirty.”

      “I guessed we were about the same age.”

      “When?”

      “The other day.”

      She ignored that, didn’t want to think about the implications. She’d noticed more details about him than she cared to admit; knowing he’d done the same with her didn’t help keep her mind where it needed to be. “So there’re five kids in your family, not three?”

      “Right. Dylan and Aaron are married. They live in town with their wives. You met Grady and Mack, who live with me.”

      Finally, the faint wailing of a siren drifted to her ears. “And this Natasha? She’s your...?” She knew better than to ask. It sounded as if she was probing, trying to learn whether he had a romantic interest. And yet she was too curious to let it go.

      “Little sister. Actually, she’s my stepsister, ever since my father married her mother a few years ago.”

      “I see. You have a big family,” she said to shift the focus away from the fact that she’d wanted to find out if Natasha was his girlfriend. “I think I’ve seen your father and stepmother. Are they living with you, too?”

      “For now. It was supposed to be a temporary arrangement, but it’s been a couple of years and they don’t seem too eager to leave.”

      “You’ve got a big house. Having them there wouldn’t be too bad if they’re helping with the mortgage.”

      “They aren’t.”

      “Then I could see how it might be an imposition.”

      His gaze slid over her, taking in every detail of her long, slinky black dress—including the slit up her leg. “What’s your story?”

      She cleared her throat. “I’m an only child.”

      “From the city?”

      “What makes you think I’m from the city?”

      “That dress,” he replied. “Women around here don’t wear that type of thing very often.”

      “I was born and raised in Oakland.” She’d been living in San Francisco since her marriage to Charlie, however. An art exhibit in the city was a fancy affair. She knew she was overdressed for the small towns along Highway 49, but she’d felt the need to clean up, to feel attractive again, the way she used to feel when Charlie took her out.

      “And now you live alone in Whiskey Creek, except for your little girl,” he said.

      She stiffened in surprise. “How’d you know I have a little girl?”

      “I saw a photograph of her in your car the other day.”

      “Oh.” She smiled at the thought of her five-year-old daughter. She missed Cassia so much.

      He waited for her to look him in the face again. “Is she staying with her father right now, or...”

      “She’s with her grandparents. They offered to keep her until I could get settled.” And because they missed Charlie as much as she did, India had felt obliged to allow it.

      There were other reasons she’d felt she had to let Cassia stay with the Sommerses, but those reasons made her stomach churn.

      Rod stuffed his hands in his pockets. “So where’s your husband?”

      She refused to flinch despite the sting that question caused. “Not everyone who has a child has a husband.”

      He raised his eyebrows. “You’re wearing a ring.”

      It’d been so long since she’d been anyplace a man might bother to ask, she hadn’t even remembered, probably because her ring didn’t mean what it was supposed to. Not anymore. Charlie was dead. She’d sold their lovely

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