Anything for Her(67)

She willed herself not to overreact. She might be imagining the undertones here. “I got a lot of work done on Sean’s quilt. I might have it ready for him in as soon as a couple of weeks.”

“Seriously?”

“You doubt me?” Allie was proud of her mock offended stance.

He should have smiled and said of course I don’t. Instead, there was an odd little silence, during which his very blue eyes contemplated her. “I brought lunch,” he said at last, abruptly.

Okay, she wasn’t imagining anything. There was definitely something wrong. Would he tell her what it was? Allie couldn’t even guess.

“I especially appreciate it today,” she told him lightly. “I forgot to bring anything.”

He followed when she went to the back. “You’re losing weight, aren’t you?”

“Maybe a little. I always tend to be skinny.”

“Not skinny.” He frowned. “Delicate.”

“That’s a more flattering word.” She took a chance, rose on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Yeah.” He set down the bags and tugged her against him for a more thorough kiss. “I’m glad I am, too.”

He distributed today’s lunch, take-out bowls of split pea soup and sourdough rolls that smelled as if they were right out of the oven, then asked if she’d done anything special yesterday.

Confronted my mother. “Nope. Like I said, mostly quilted.”

He pried the top off his bowl. “You may have gotten your coloring from your dad, but I could see your mom in you.”

“Yes. I got my size from her for sure.”

“More than that.”

“I suppose so.” She hesitated. “Do you look like your mother?”

“No.” He cleared his throat. “Not at all.”

“I’m sorry.”

Nolan frowned and didn’t respond. He appeared to be concentrating on buttering his roll.

“Sean told me something,” he said finally.

Allie slowly lifted her gaze to his. “What?” she croaked.

“That you said you moved here from Oklahoma.” Pause. “Not Montana.”

She was nearly paralyzed, unable to think. She was already tangled in this lie. How did she get out? “That’s true,” she said. “Mom was... She always says that. We, um, did live in Montana. Before. But, well, Dad and Jason are still in Oklahoma, and she doesn’t like to think about it, and so...she leaves out the time we spent in Oklahoma.” Oh, God, that was weak. Would he buy it?

The relentlessness she saw in his eyes said plainly that he didn’t. “Where in Oklahoma?” he asked. “My sister dated a guy from somewhere near Oklahoma City. Choctaw, I think.”

“We were just outside Tulsa. A suburb.”

“Oh? Which one?”

Of course he wasn’t letting up at all. The steel in his voice told her any more evasions would be the end.

Neither Dad nor Jason were in the same town where she’d graduated from high school, though they’d stayed in the area. It wouldn’t matter if she told Nolan; there was nothing to find there anymore.

“Fairfield. Nothing distinctive about it, not even the name.” She summoned a smile. “I learned later there are Fairfields all over the country. And, like I told Sean, it wasn’t cowboy country.”

“Fairfield.” He nodded, his gaze momentarily distant as if he was filing the name away for future reference. Then it refocused like a laser. “What happened that made your mother so bitter?”

“I’m...not altogether sure. I think—” Daddy, I’m so sorry! “—that he might have had an affair. But somehow their split involved Jason. I think he lied to cover for my father. He wouldn’t tell me.” She was talking too fast, she knew she was, but he’d never have believed a simple “I don’t know.”

“Your...loyalty to her is commendable. But do you think it’s fair that she expects you to cut your father and brother out of your life because that’s what she decided to do?” The words sounded sympathetic, but his expression didn’t match. It could only be described as calculating.

“I was always closer to her,” Allie said simply. “There was no choice for me. And my brother and I reacted differently to everything.” That was true. “He got angry and rebellious as a teenager.” Also true, so true. She had admired him for his willingness to rage aloud, something she’d been too stunned and confused to do. “He quit talking to me. Accused me of being a little Goody Two-shoes, going along with whatever Mom said.”