Rainshadow Road(26)
The bartender said urgently, “Do not start a fight in here!”
“I didn’t do anything,” Paul sputtered. “She was reaching for the beer, and it slipped out of my hand.”
“I wasn’t reaching for anything,” Lucy said indignantly.
Someone pushed through the crowd, and a gentle hand settled on her back. Stiffening, Lucy began to snap at him, but the words died away as she looked up into a pair of blue-green eyes.
Sam Nolan.
Of all people to see her in these circumstances, did it really have to be him?
“Lucy,” he said quietly, his gaze taking swift inventory. “Did anyone hurt you?” He cast a bladelike glance at Paul, who cringed.
“No,” Lucy muttered, crossing her arms over her chest. The fabric of her shirt was clammy and nearly transparent. “I’m just … wet. And cold.”
“Let’s get you out of here.” Reaching for her bag on the counter, Sam handed it to her and said over her head, “How much is the tab, Marty?”
“Her drinks are on the house,” the bartender said.
“Thanks.” Sam glanced at the bikers. “Don’t maim the kid, Duane. He’s too hammered to know what’s going on.”
“No maiming,” Duane said. “I’m just going to drop him into the harbor. Maybe push him under a couple of times. Give him a mild case of hypothermia. That’s all.”
“I don’t feel good,” Paul whimpered.
Lucy almost began to feel sorry for him. “Just let him go, Duane.”
“I’ll think about it.” Duane’s eyes narrowed as Sam began to guide Lucy through the crowd. “Nolan. Watch it with her, or you’re next in line.”
Sam gave him a sardonic smile. “Who made you prom chaperone, Duane?”
“She’s Justine’s friend,” Duane said. “Which means I’ll have to kick your ass if you try anything with her.”
“You couldn’t kick my ass,” Sam said, and grinned as he added, “Justine, on the other hand…” He accompanied Lucy as she plowed through the clusters of people.
Emerging from the building, Lucy stopped on the sidewalk and turned to face Sam. He was as vital and good-looking as she had remembered. “You can go back in,” she said abruptly. “I don’t need any help.”
Sam shook his head. “I was leaving anyway. Too crowded.”
“Why were you there in the first place?”
“I went to have a drink with my brother Alex. His divorce was final today. But he left as soon as he realized there was going to be a Pig War party.”
“I should have done the same thing.” A soft breeze hit the soaked front of Lucy’s shirt and caused her to shiver. “Ugh. I’ve got to go home and change.”
“Where’s home?”
“Artist’s Point.”
“Justine Hoffman’s place. I’ll walk you there.”
“Thanks, but I’d rather go by myself. It’s not far.”
“You can’t walk through Friday Harbor like that. The souvenir shop next door is still open. Let me buy you a T-shirt.”
“I’ll buy my own shirt.” Lucy knew that she sounded ungrateful and rude, but she was too miserable to care. She went into the shop, while Sam followed.
“My goodness,” the elderly blue-haired woman behind the counter exclaimed when she saw Lucy. “Did we have an accident?”
“Some drunk jerk spilled a beer on me,” Lucy said.
“Oh, dear.” The woman’s face brightened as she saw the man behind her. “Sam Nolan. It wasn’t you, was it?”
“You know me better than that, Mrs. O’Hehir,” he chided with a grin. “I always hold my liquor. Is there a place in here where my friend can change into a new shirt?”
“Right in the back,” she said, indicating a door behind her. She gave Lucy a sympathetic glance. “What kind of shirt are you looking for, dear?”
“Just a regular T-shirt.”
“I’ll find something,” Sam told Lucy. “Why don’t you go back there and start washing up while I look around?”
Lucy hesitated before nodding. “Don’t pick out anything weird,” she said. “Nothing with skulls, stupid sayings, or dirty language.”
“Your lack of trust wounds me,” Sam said.
“I don’t know you well enough to trust you.”
“Mrs. O’Hehir will vouch for me.” Sam went up to the elderly woman, braced his hands on the counter, and leaned toward her conspiratorially. “Come on, tell her what a good guy I am. An angel. A sunbeam.”
The woman said to Lucy, “He’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”