Country Roads(4)
But he had never been able to ignore a damsel in distress, as his friend Tim always ribbed him. So he’d resigned himself to getting dirty, only to have his rescued damsel cadge a loan, give him the evil eye when he offered her the comfort of his car, and now look like he had accused her of scheming to rob a bank.
“If you’d rather not tell me, that’s fine. It’s your business,” he said, but he suddenly wanted to know what sort of dealings this redheaded sprite, driving the worst piece of automotive junk he’d ever seen, could possibly have in Sanctuary.
“It’s not that.” She looked up at him, her green eyes clouded with guilt. “I’m kind of trying to keep it a secret that I’m here.”
“Your secret is safe with me, but a lot of folks are going to notice that car being towed into town.”
He watched the rise and fall of her breasts under the thin white material of her blouse.
“Yeah, I made a mistake buying that disaster, but it was the only thing big enough to hold my paintings.”
“Paintings?”
She opened her mouth and closed it again as panic flickered in her eyes.
“Don’t join the CIA,” he said, trying to inject a little humor to ease her tension. “If you got caught by the enemy, you wouldn’t make it through the first question of an interrogation.”
“What? Oh.” Her smile was shaky. “I’ve never tried to do something like this before.”
“I don’t know what ‘this’ is.” He held up his hand as the smile fled from her face. “And you don’t need to tell me, but I suggest you come up with a cover story before Bud’s truck gets here.”
“Why?”
“Well, people around here are naturally friendly, and they’re likely to ask you the same thing I did. They might be offended if you refuse to answer them.”
“Are you? Offended, I mean?”
“No, but I’m a lawyer, so I’ve developed a thick skin.”
“I’m sorry if I was rude. I’m just nervous.”
He followed the path of her hands as she rubbed them up and down the denim curving over her thighs. “I never would have guessed.”
“You’re being sarcastic.” That seemed to reassure rather than upset her. Her hands stilled.
“Just some friendly teasing to lighten the mood.” He tried to guess the source of her discomfort. His job brought him a fair amount of experience with handling skittish clients, but he didn’t know enough about the sprite to speculate. The closest he could come was that she had stolen some valuable paintings and wanted to fence them, although why she had chosen Sanctuary for her activities was beyond him. It wasn’t a hotbed for high-priced art sales. In fact, his little hometown wasn’t a hotbed for much of anything.
She gazed straight ahead through the windshield for a long moment before turning back to him. “Do you know the Gallery at Sanctuary?”
A twitch of pain hit him in the chest. He knew the gallery all too well. The one woman in the world he had wanted to marry owned it, and she was the wife of his best friend. “An old friend of mine runs it. Claire Arbuckle.”
Julia looked stricken. “I’m trying to find someone named Claire Parker.”
“Parker was her maiden name. She’s married to Tim Arbuckle now.”
“Oh, thank goodness! I thought I might have come to the wrong place.” The tension tightening her shoulders released. “So you know her? Do you know if she’s working today?”
“I don’t know for sure, but it’s Thursday, so she’s probably there. The weekenders start coming in, and they have the money to spend on art.”
She pondered this for a minute before she turned those bright-green eyes back toward him. “Do you think Bud could just tow my car to the gallery?”
His new companion fascinated him; she managed to combine astonishing naïveté with a steely focus on her secret purpose. “He’ll tow it anywhere you want, but how are you going to get the tire changed there?”
“I won’t need that old heap anymore.” Her gaze dropped back to her hands. “I hope.”
“Maybe you should tell me what your business is. You can hire me as your lawyer so you’ll have attorney-client confidentiality.”
“You didn’t look too thrilled about lending me money for the tow, but now you think I have the funds for a lawyer?” She slid him a sideways smile that sparkled with mischief.
“My curiosity has gotten the better of my good sense.” And that smile had further undermined any shreds of detachment he was hanging onto. “Besides, I’m behind on my pro bono hours.”