Remember to Forget (31 page)

Maggie watched him, feeling strangely privileged to be here with him right now. She shook her head. “It seems like a cruel joke—if there is a God—to play tricks like that.”

Trevor’s gaze bored a hole through her soul. “I’ve never doubted God’s providence, His care for a minute, Meg. Even after that awful Saturday. I think His heart broke over Amy and Trev, and I think it’s broken for Jack. I don’t claim to understand why any of it happened the way it did, but I know God didn’t stop being God the day Amy died.”

Maggie wanted to argue with him, tried even, to find the words that would dispute his claim. But the truth was, she envied him, longed to believe in something—Someone—the way he did. She fingered the frayed edge of her seat belt. “I’m so sorry for everything you’ve been through. It makes my life seem like a piece of cake.” She wanted to
snatch back the words the minute they left her mouth. What she’d said was true, but with one sentence, she’d given him an open invitation to inquire into her life.

And from the look on his face, and being the gentleman he was, he was graciously taking the bait. He stretched his arm over the back of the truck’s bench seat and touched her shoulder briefly. “So tell me about Meg. What are you looking for?”

The question startled her. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“What do you hope to find here in Clayburn?”

She tipped her head, thinking, intensely aware of his eyes on her. What
was
she looking for? Interestingly enough, she felt as if she were on the verge of finding whatever it was, yet she didn’t know how to answer Trevor’s simple question. He didn’t push, he didn’t make her feel uncomfortable. He simply waited.

“I’m not sure what I’m searching for. But I know I’ve needed to get away for a long time. I wish I could tell you that I finally found the courage to leave—Kevin.” She cast a quick look at him, then away again. “His name was Kevin. But that’s not what happened.” She shook her head slowly and a scornful laugh bubbled from her throat. “I got carjacked.”

Trevor’s eyes grew round, his brows rising in unison. “Seriously?”

She told him what had happened that morning. “It’s not that unusual in . . . where I’m from—where I used to live. When I finally got away from the guy, I was a long way from the apartment where we lived.”

“You lived with him?”

She looked at her lap and nodded. No hint of accusation hardened Trevor’s tone, yet she felt one inside her. A week ago she’d never given her and Kevin’s living arrangements much thought. It hadn’t been a big deal in New York. Most people she knew got married when they were ready to start a family—if then. Before that, they tried on the shoes before they bought them, as Kevin liked to put it. But something about the people of this small town made her rethink so many of her decisions. Made her feel embarrassed even.

She risked a glance at Trevor’s face, expecting to see traces of judgment there. Instead genuine concern was written in his kind eyes. And something else. Something she couldn’t quite define.

She contemplated how much to say, and finally spoke, slowly, hopping from one phrase to another, as if she were navigating steppingstones across a pond. “That day, when that guy took my car, I was sitting there with a gun pointed at me, and it struck me that I was more terrified to go home to Kevin than I was to stay in that car.” She hung her head, finding pain in remembering.

Trevor’s brief, tender touch on her shoulder acted as a balm, and her throat tightened.

“It sounds to me like what you did took a great deal of courage. More than you realize maybe.” His voice was soft in the graying evening light.

She’d never thought about it that way. Maybe it was true. Maybe she
was
stronger than she knew. Maybe she wasn’t doomed to repeat her mother’s history. Maybe she really could start all over again, here in this quiet little town. Trevor Ashlock made her want, with everything in her being, for that to be true.

A breeze threaded through the windows. She heard the doves call to one another again.

“Meg, you need to understand that I love Jack like a brother, but I don’t think working for him is the best thing you could do right now. For anybody—Jack included. I hope it doesn’t seem like I’m being disloyal to my friend.”

She tensed slightly, trying to weigh her words. “And I hope it doesn’t make me seem ungrateful to say that I think I can handle it.”

He held up his palms in surrender. “I’m not telling you what to do. But I’m thinking of Wren here, too. I know you probably don’t plan to stay at the inn forever, but Wren thinks a lot of you, and it would make things uncomfortable for her, too, if you were working for Jack.”

Maggie wanted to kick herself. Was she so thoughtless that she hadn’t
seen that Trevor’s deeper concern was for sweet Wren? He must think she was a first-class jerk. Well, she was. She pressed her lips into a hard line, wishing the floorboards would swallow her up. “I’m sorry, Trevor. I didn’t even think of that. I’m an idiot.”

That coaxed a smile to his mouth. “No you’re not. You’re a woman who
needs
to worry about her own life right now. I think I understand.”

But he couldn’t understand. He didn’t know what kind of person she was, how selfish she’d been, the mistakes she’d made, the good people she’d deceived and taken advantage of in order to get to Clayburn. Not to mention the lies she was still perpetuating in order to stay there. She’d dug herself so deep a trench, she wasn’t sure how she could ever climb out.

Even if she were safe now, she had a new reason to keep her secrets.

Chapter Thirty-Three

T
he telephone poles blurred past again as they drove back into town, and Maggie’s mind played a tug of war with itself. Something in her—some foolish, self-destructive part of her—wanted to tell Trevor everything. Come clean. Get it over with. Be free once and for all from all the secrets she harbored.

But she couldn’t do that. She knew she couldn’t. Even if she were safe now, if Clayburn really was far enough away from Kevin that she’d never have to worry about him again, now she had a new reason to keep her secrets.

Trevor. It hadn’t taken her a week to know that Trevor Ashlock was a decent man. A man of honor and integrity. She’d never known anyone like him. But if she told him the truth about herself now—that she wasn’t the woman he thought her to be, that even her very name was a lie—he
would be out of her life so fast her head would spin.

And if he was the kind of man she thought him to be, maybe he would even warn Bart and Wren and Jackson Linder about her. He wouldn’t let his friends be duped by a woman like her. She could never convince him that she’d changed. Not when she still held so many secrets from them. They would all send her packing faster than she could say “Greyhound,” and who could blame them?

How could it matter so much to her—this little town that she’d never even heard of a week ago? And these people who’d somehow made her care for the first time in ages. She didn’t understand it. She had changed. She was different somehow. She had a hope inside that she’d never before dared to entertain. She even found herself wondering if God had something to do with it all. If maybe He knew who she was and cared what happened to her. It frightened her in a way she couldn’t explain.

She sensed Trevor’s eyes on her, but she couldn’t face him with these thoughts snarling her brain.

“Hey.” His voice was low and gentle. “You okay?”

She kneaded her temples. “I have a lot to think about right now. I’m sorry if I’m not the best company.”

“Are you worrying about . . . him? About Kevin?”

She nodded. “I’m scared.” That was true, but it was so much more.

“I’ll look out for you. If you hear from him, if he gives you any trouble, we’ll go to the authorities. He has no rights to you whatsoever if you don’t want him in your life anymore. He needs to know that.”

She shook her head. “It’s not that simple.”

“What is it then? I know you don’t really know me, but I want to help you. You don’t have to be afraid. You’re safe here.”

Oh, how she wanted to believe that. If only it were true.

“What can I do to help? If there’s anything I can do, you only have to call me. I want you to believe that.”

She took a deep breath and took a plunge into trust. “Trevor, I need that job . . . with Jackson. I’ll wait to talk to him for a few days. I promised Wren I’d help get the painting finished at the inn. I’ve got a place to sleep until then, and I can keep looking for other work in the meantime. But I—” She swallowed hard. “If I don’t find anything else, I just can’t run anymore. I’m too tired.”

T
he weariness in Meg’s eyes, in the hunch of her shoulders, touched Trevor. He’d been there . . . too recently. Not for the same reasons, of course, but he thought he understood. At least in his own sorrow and seeking, he’d been surrounded by people who loved him. Meg was alone. Completely alone. How terrible that must be.

He remembered she’d mentioned a sister. Maybe that was a way he could help. Surely it would be a comfort to have family here. He turned to her, nervous about broaching the subject. “Meg, have you talked to your sister since you got here?”

She gave him a wary eye. “I sent her an e-mail. Why?”

“Could she maybe come and help you find a place to live? Help you get settled in?”

She opened her mouth, then hesitated. He could almost read her mind as she tried to decide whether to confide in him.
Please, let her trust me, Father
.

“My sister—Jenn—doesn’t know where I am. Kevin is . . . not a nice person. I’m afraid of what he might do if he thought Jenn knew where to find me.”

Trevor whistled under his breath. “I didn’t realize it was like that. But maybe she could come here for a while? Until Kevin . . .” He wasn’t sure how to fill in the blank. Did a man like that give up?

Meg shook her head. “Jenn’s happy. She had a rough start, but she’s
married to a decent man. They struggle. For some reason, Mark has a hard time holding a job. But I think she’s truly happy. After all she’s been through, I wouldn’t dare mess up her life. I’m happy for her, I really am.” Meg’s voice cracked.

“She knows you’re okay though, right?”

Meg laughed, but it came out stilted and unconvincing. “
Am
I okay?”

Her sad smile tugged at him. At a place so deep he hadn’t dared explore for a long time. Not since Amy.

“Only you can know that, Meg. I think you’re going to be fine. But can I make a suggestion?”

She shrugged.

“Don’t hide who you are. Be honest. People around here will love you for who you really are. That’s one thing you don’t ever need to be afraid of.”

The tears came then. She tried to gulp them back, but they rolled down her cheeks in torrents. If he hadn’t been driving, he might have been tempted to take her in his arms and try to soothe away her silent sobs.

Probably best he was driving.

When they got back to the inn, he hopped out of the pickup and ran around to open her door. “You gonna be okay?”

She swiped at a damp cheek, then nodded and gave him a wobbly smile.