The Christmas Clock and A Song For My Mother - Kat Martin Page 0,67
Mom. Winnie's chest hurt. She thought about pressing her daughter for more but their relationship was so fragile she just didn't dare.
“I'd like you to stay but I understand if you don't want to.”
Marly made no reply.
Winnie's heart was aching but she let the subject drop.
Her girls were leaving. She had known the time would come. She had just been hoping so hard... Winnie turned away. The time with her girls was coming to an end. There was nothing she could do but accept it. Ignoring the lump in her throat, she pasted on a smile for Katie and walked back into the kitchen.
The next morning, Reed hammered on the front door of the gray frame house next door. He would have been back last night if it hadn't been for the hit-and-run accident down on West Adams across from the train station.
The victim, an elderly woman named Betsy Moses, was in the hospital. Fortunately, aside from a broken arm, it looked as if she was going to be okay.
One of his deputies, Patrick Murphy, had apprehended the driver of the old Ford pickup out on Highway 21. Frank Slattery had been drinking down at Al's Place. He was on his way home and didn't even know he had hit the woman. He was currently residing in the Dreyerville County Jail.
Reed took the steps up onto the porch two at a time. He had made himself wait until the respectable hour of ten a.m. before he'd come over but it had taken every last shred of his patience.
His instincts were what made him a good sheriff. Something had happened to close Marly off from him. Reed was determined to know what it was.
He hammered again and the front door opened. He'd been expecting Winnie but it was Marly who opened the door.
“We need to talk.”
“There isn't anything to say.”
He eased the door open wider and walked past her into the living room. “I'm not leaving until I know what's going on.”
She took a deep breath, looking resigned. She was dressed in jeans and sneakers and a pale blue cotton blouse. She looked beautiful. And tired. And he knew that somehow, he was the cause.
He glanced around the house, which seemed a little too quiet. “Where's Winnie and Katie?”
“Mother took Katie to the Farmer's Market.”
“Good, then we can talk right here.”
“I told you—”
“We’re too old to play games, Marly. Just tell me what's going on.”
Her chin firmed. She looked him dead in the face. “I found out about Emily.”
Reed frowned, not quite following the conversation. “Emily? Emily Carter?”
“How many of them do you know?”
“I don't understand. What does Emily have to do with this?”
“Look, Reed, we've only known each other a little while. You don't owe me anything except honesty. That you do owe me.”
“I'm lost here, Marly. I can't imagine what our going out has to do with Emily Carter.”
“You aren’t going to deny it, are you? Please don't do that, Reed. I've heard enough lies in my life. I can't take any more and especially not from you.”
He raked a hand through his hair, trying to sort things out. “God, I wish I knew what you were thinking. Emily Carter is Randy Carter’s widow. He was one of my deputies. About six months ago, he was killed in the line of duty. Are you thinking that something’s going on between Emily and me? Because if you are, it just isn't true.”
She crossed her arms over her breasts, which drew his eye in that direction and made him think of taking her to bed, which at the moment was not the right thing to be thinking.
“Come on, Reed. Everyone in town knows you're going to marry her.”
He started shaking his head. Maybe he should have mentioned his visits to Emily but it was just something he did for a friend and it never crossed his mind.
“Emily and I went to high school together. She has a little three-year-old boy named Timmy. I stop by to see them whenever I can, see if there's anything they need. The other guys do, too. I swear, that's all there is to it.”
Her eyes found his, searching for the truth. “Amy Singleton says Emily's had a crush on you since high school. She says you're just waiting for a decent period of time before the two of you get married.”
“I don't know how Emily felt about me in high school. It isn't important. What matters is that Emily is just a friend. I understand