Tempting Taine (26 page)

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Authors: Kate Silver

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Hey,
just
joking,
Dottie,

Nate
said.

His
use
of
the
name
only
he
had
ever
used
gave
her
a
frisson
of
pleasure.

And
when
did
you
ever
do
otherwise?

she
quipped.


Promise
I'll
be
po-faced
from
now
on,

he
said,
and
Dixie
couldn't
help
laughing
at
his
mock-serious
face.

They
reached
her
car
and
she
relinquished
his
arm
with
relief.
For
some
reason
her
breathing
felt
a
little
constricted.


That's
my
car
two
down,

he
said,
giving
her
the
keys.

I'd
be
glad
of
my
bag.

She
opened
her
car
door
and
he
looked
ruefully
at
his
clothes.


Sorry
about
the
mud,

he
said.

Do
you
want
me
to
take
them
off?

She
glanced
at
him
suspiciously
but
he
opened
his
cafe
latte
eyes
wide
in
all
innocence.
He
was
easy
to
like.
Always
was.

She
laughed.

I'll
cover
the
seat
with
a
rug.

She
looked
down
at
her
sodden
knees
and
mud-splattered
coat.

Mine
aren't
much
better.

In
the
boot
of
the
rental
she
found
one
small
grip
which
she
transferred
to
her
car.


Is
that
all
your
luggage?

she
asked.


Yeah.
I
travel
light.
In
every
way.
There
are
more
important
things
than
possessions.

As
she
started
the
car
she
said,

Where
can
I
take
you?
Where's
home?

He
hesitated
then
grinned.

Rwanda,

he
said
and
let
it
hang.

She
raised
her
eyebrows.

Rwanda?
As
in
Africa?


Right
in
one.
I'm
a
relief
doctor
there,

he
explained.


I
suppose
you're
not
heading
there
right
now?

He
laughed.

No.
Not
for
another
month
or
so.
Some
business
to
fix
up
before
I
return.
But
I
must
get
back
as
soon
as
I
can.


Well,
is
there
a
second
choice
of
destination
for
today?

He
thought
for
a
moment.

There's
a
pub
around
here
I
suppose?


No
there
isn't.
Waitane
hasn't
progressed
much
since
you
were
here
last.

She
chewed
the
side
of
her
mouth
and
drummed
her
fingers
on
the
steering
wheel
as
she
wrestled
with
her
conscience.
Or
was
it
her
fear?

Finally
her
better
nature
won.

Come
home
with
me,

she
said.

That
was
her
first
mistake.

 

It
was
only
a
short
drive
home,
through
lush
acid-green
pastures
dotted
with
sheep
and
new
lambs
in
their
ballet
warm-up
leggings.

The
familiar,
calming
warmth
washed
over
her
as
she
drove
up
the
drive
and
parked
on
the
gravel
outside
the
front
door.
Rambling,
single
storied,
white
weatherboard,
Liberton
had,
together
with
her
grandmother,
been
the
rock
on
which
her
life
had
been
built.
Now
Granny
was
gone
Liberton
was
the
only
thing
left
;
her
happy
memories
of
the
past,
her
great
joy
in
the
present
and
her
hope
for
the
future.

Grannies
might
die,
mothers
and
men
might
disappear,
kids
at
school
might
taunt
because
of
a
limp,
the
hospital
might
terrify
when
corrective
surgery
was
necessary,
but
always

Liberton

was
there
to
welcome
and
enfold
and
heal
bruised
spirits.


So
you
still
live
in
the
old
house,

he
said.

She
thought
he
sounded
surprised.

Of
course,

she
replied.


I
guess
you're
looking
forward
to
moving
into
something
more
suitable
than
a
huge
old
farm
house.

She
opened
her
mouth
to
remonstrate
but
he
went
right
on.

You
live
by
yourself?


Yes,
ever
since
Granny
went
into
hospital.
And
I
intend
things
to
remain
that
way.


Really?

He
looked
her
over
slowly
and
grinned.

I'll
bet
they
don't.


I'll
bet
they
do,

she
countered
swiftly.

Unlike
you,
I
find
things
so
much
more
reliably
comforting
than
people
-
with
one
exception
and
I've
just
buried
her.

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