Met Her Match - Jude Deveraux Page 0,26

from the back—and Terri let go of his arm in what seemed to be relief.

“Can I help you?” the girl asked as though she didn’t really mean it.

“We need flowers for Dr. Jamie’s wife,” Terri said.

Instantly the girl’s eyes brightened. “I think Dr. Jamie would like roses. Or maybe sunflowers. My mom makes me go to Dr. Kyle, but Dr. Jamie is always there. Maybe next year I can go to him.”

Terri had gone from looking scared to smiling. “This is Nate. He’s Dr. Jamie’s first cousin.”

The girl’s eyes widened. She glanced up and down Nate as though appraising him. “You do look like him, but you’re older.”

Glaring over the girl’s head, Nate narrowed his eyes at Terri. He’d get her back for this! “I am very old,” he said solemnly. “And I’m nothing more than a boat jockey, not a doctor like Jamie is. Did you know that he’s a military hero?”

“Is he?”

The girl started to ask questions, but Nate sidestepped and went to Terri, who was looking at the flowers on the far side. “For that, you have to cook dinner tonight,” he said under his breath.

“And where do you plan to eat?”

“Good point. I’ll think of another punishment.”

“How about a trip into Summer Hill? That should be repayment enough. What about these flowers? They look good. I think I better go before—” She broke off.

“Before what?”

He saw Terri’s head come up and her body become as rigid as steel. As though she knew someone was watching her, she turned around slowly.

The girl was gone, and standing behind them was a woman about Terri’s age, with dark blond hair. Everything about her was thin: hair, eyes, shoulders, arms. But it wasn’t a fashionable thinness. Unless Nate missed his guess, this girl had grown up without enough to eat.

She was staring at Terri as though she needed something from her. Nate couldn’t identify what her eyes were pleading for. Pity? Sympathy? No. He thought it looked like she wanted forgiveness.

For a moment Terri just stared, then she mumbled, “I’ll meet you at the bookstore.” In the space of a breath, she was out the door, and he saw her hurrying down the street.

Nate turned back to the young woman. He wanted to ask her questions, but he didn’t know where to begin.

With Terri gone, her expression changed to businesslike. “What can I help you with?”

“These,” Nate said, and picked up a vase full of yellow and blue flowers.

“Certainly.” She took the vase and put it on the counter. “Do you want them delivered or will you take them?”

“I’ll take them.” Nate was looking out the front window. Terri was nowhere to be seen. He looked at the woman who had her back to him as she wrapped the flowers in yellow tissue paper. He was a stranger in town so he knew better than to directly ask her what was going on. “Mind if I ask you a personal question?”

He saw her narrow shoulders rise as though she was about to fend off a blow. “Of course not.” She didn’t turn around.

“Just as we came in here, a guy in a pickup stopped and made some unpleasant remarks to Terri. What was that about?”

When she turned around, she was smiling, showing perfect teeth that he was willing to bet had all been capped. Needed because of an accident? Or a childhood without a dentist?

“Red truck? Hasn’t shaved in a week? Dirty baseball cap?”

“You must have seen him.” Nate knew his tone was flirtatious, but he didn’t want her to refuse to answer.

“That’s Hector. When Terri was a kid, she knocked him down. He says she injured his spine so badly that he missed out on a career as a pro football player. Truth is that it was booze and drugs and lack of talent that did it. But it’s easier for him to blame someone else.”

Nate was frowning. “He said Terri had ‘another one.’”

Just as Terri had done earlier, the woman’s face seemed to lose color. “She used to date a guy named Billy Thorndyke. He was big, like you. Everyone in town thought they were going to...” She didn’t finish her sentence as she pushed the flowers across the counter toward him.

As Nate handed her a credit card, she put up her hand.

“No, thanks. You’re a friend of Terri’s so there’s no charge. Listen, Mr.—”

“Nate Taggert.”

“Take care of her. Terri Rayburn is a very good person.”

He nodded, his mind trying to piece together what he’d been seeing and

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