Since youve never been to Mustang before, we would have to have met someplace else. He frowned thoughtfully. A couple months ago I took a weeks vacation and went camping. We could tell people I met you then.
She frowned, her nose wrinkling. I dont know anything about camping. Besides, who would believe I was out in the wilderness setting up a tent?
She had a point. Well, then maybe we could have met in a café as I was driving home, he offered.
And what was I doing there? Serving coffee? Short-order cook?
Unexpected irritation surged in Jesse. Lady, youve got to help me out here, he said.
Her cheeks pinkened and she tugged off the glasses, exposing beautiful large green eyes fringed with dark, thick lashes. I apologize. Perhaps Im more tired than I realized. Would it be possible to show me to my room and we can discuss the details of everything a little bit later?
Jesse instantly regretted snapping at her. Without the glasses, he could see bruiselike dark circles beneath her eyes. That, coupled with her pale complexion, gave her the appearance of sheer exhaustion. Of course. Let me get your bags into the room, then Ill come back for you.
I appreciate it.
For the first time since buying the house, Jesse was grateful the guest bedroom was stark. A double bed, a chest of drawers and a nightstand were the only furniture. At least it wouldnt be too much of a challenge for a blind person to maneuver.
He set the suitcases in the bottom of the empty closet, then returned to the living room. She was standing, cane in one hand, the sunglasses propped on the top of her head.
Here we go, he said, self-consciously taking her by the elbow. Theres a long hallway and your room is the second on the left. The bathroom is the first door on the left.
She held herself stiffly, as if she were unaccustomed to anothers touch. Jesse could feel the tension that rippled from her, waves of nervous anxiety almost visible in its strength.
And why shouldnt she be tense? he asked himself. Under the best of circumstances, it would be difficult to be blind. She had the added burden of knowing she was in danger, and shed just been dropped off at a strangers
house in an unfamiliar town.
The bed is straight ahead, the chest of drawers to the left, the closet on the right, Jesse explained as they turned into the bedroom doorway. Theres a nightstand on the left of the bed, and I put your suitcases in the closet. He hesitated a moment, unsure about her needs. Do you want me to help you unpack?
No, thanks. Im sure I can manage just fine. Her voice was cool, as if hed irritated her with his question. She stepped away from him, so he was no longer touching her.
Then Ill just leave you to rest, he said. Do you want the door open or closed?
Closed.
Jesse shut the door, then returned to the living room. Moving to the window, he stared outside, his thoughts now focused on his new houseguest.
Cecilia was blind, beautiful and prickly as a cactus. Of course, not knowing exactly what had happened in her life, what she found herself involved in, it was difficult for him to cast stones because of her irritable mood.
Jesse rubbed his hands down the sides of his jeans, realizing his palms were damp with nervous sweat. A blind woman in his care. Was this somebodys idea of retribution? Reparation for the unresolved trauma in his life?
Again that distant memory knocked in his brain. For an instant, he saw everything as it had been on that night so long ago. The headlights of his car shining on the black glaze of the roadthe pull of the steering wheel as the car went out of controlthe thick, twisted tree that loomed closercloser until Jesse gasped and forcefully shoved the memories away. He turned from the window.
One week. Two at the most, and then shed be gone from his life. Surely for two weeks he could take care of her, keep her safe and not think about the past, about the man whose life hed destroyed on a wintry slick road almost thirteen years ago.
Seven steps from the doorway to the edge of the bed. Five steps from the bed to the chest of drawers and four from the bed to the closet. Her entire world had become comprised of steps.
She sank onto the edge of the bed. My name is Allison Welch, she whispered to herself. Allison Welch. Allison Welch.
Like a mantra, she repeated it over and over again, afraid that one of these days Allison Welch would somehow cease to exist altogether.
Allison Welch had the world by the tail. She was an up-and-coming interior designer, and her shop, Comforts Of Home, was gaining more and more popularity in Chicago.
She had a fantastic apartment overlooking Lake Michigan, a full social life and a close relationship with her sister and brother-in-law.
A sob rose and she slapped a hand across her mouth to contain it. She wouldnt think about Alicia and John and that night. If she let those horrendous visions replay, shed lose her mind.
Unpack. Deal with the here and now. If she thought of the past, grief would overwhelm her. If she tried to anticipate the future, fear and despair would engulf her.