In Your Dreams (Blue Heron #4)(62)

She had no one in this town who cared about her. Except him. He did care; he just didn’t want to get involved again. But he didn’t want her to be shunned, or lonely, or miserable.

Fortunately, she went on her way, up the steps to the Opera House, and Jack continued home.

Unfortunately, he saw her again the next night, when she dropped off some dinner (bought from the caterer who had just opened in town) and stood shivering on his doorstep until he let her in. Just into the foyer, and only for six minutes till he told her she had to leave.

Speaking of difficult women, he was a little...mad at Emmaline.

Jack wasn’t used to being rejected by women. In fact, he had the opposite problem. There was the time Shelayne Schanta hid in the back of his truck like a serial killer. The time Shannon Murphy wrote her college essay on being in love with an older man (him), resulting in two extraordinarily furious parents threatening to castrate him, despite the fact that his interaction with Shannon had been limited to robbing her of a home run last spring during a baseball game. There was the time Lorena Creech Iskin cornered him at O’Rourke’s and told him in vivid detail about her husband’s erectile dysfunction and how all she needed was fifteen minutes of his time.

So being thanked for a good time and sent on his way... That was new.

On Wednesday night, they’d had a hockey game. He’d said, “Hi, Emmaline,” and she’d said, “Hey, guys.” That was it. She didn’t even hip check him.

He started as someone knocked on his truck’s window. He rolled it down. “Hey, Abby.”

“Hi, Uncle Jack.” Abby volunteered at the hospital. “Guess you’re wondering about Josh, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know anything. Even if I did, I couldn’t tell you.”

“I know. But thanks.”

She reached in and patted his shoulder. About a year ago, Josh Deiner had gotten Abby drunk. He’d been one of those kids who was too spoiled, too indulged, always bored, always looking for trouble.

Didn’t look like he was going to be able to atone for any of that.

“You need a ride, Abs?” he asked.

“No, no, I’ve got Mom’s car. You know what I found in it last week?”

“Do I want to?”

“No, but I feel like someone should share my pain, and you could use a distraction. You ready?” She paused for effect. “A riding crop.”

“Please tell me she’s taken up horseback riding.”

“She has not.”

“You’re a cruel child, Abby.”

She grinned. “Have a great day, Uncle Jack. Get out of here. Go do something with people your own age.”

He watched to make sure she got to her car okay, and that it started, and then tailed her back to town to make sure she didn’t speed or break any traffic laws (or careen into a telephone pole or a lake).

She didn’t. Turned onto Old Farm Road with no problems.

But his breathing was getting shallow and fast, and he recognized the signs.

He couldn’t go home. Not that his cat was bad company, but he needed humans. O’Rourke’s it was.

“Hey, Jack!” said Colleen and Connor in unison as he came through the door. He nodded, figured he’d sit at the bar, maybe hang out with Lucas, who was there, as well. If things were slow, Connor might come out and have a beer with him.

Prudence, dressed much like he was in a flannel shirt and jeans, approached. “Hey, Useless!” she said, smacking his shoulder. “How’s it hanging? Guess what? I’m officially in menopause. The results came back today.”

“I’m thrilled for you.”

“Oh, bite me. It’s horrible, Jack. I want to climb Carl one minute, then slowly choke the life out of him the next. Speaking of Carl, do you happen to have any spurs?”

“No, Pru. Believe it or not, no.”

“Damn. I back-ordered some, but they’re still not here.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw a table of women. One of them was studiously holding a beer to the side of her face.

She didn’t even want to be spotted, in other words.

“Catch you in a little while, Pru,” he said, walking over to the ladies—Shelayne Schanta, Allison Whitaker, Grace Knapton and Jeanette O’Rourke.

And Emmaline.

“Hello, ladies. Mind if I sit down?”

“Jack!” four of the five of them cried, moving their chairs to make room for him. “How are you, you look so handsome, want a drink, sit next to me, how was the wedding, have you eaten?”

One of them didn’t say anything.

“Hi, Em,” he said.

“Jack.”

“You want to go out sometime? Grab dinner? Catch a movie?”

She gave him a dark look.

The rest of the women fell silent. “I’m game if she’s not, Jack,” Shelayne said.

“So am I,” Allison said. “Just in case you’re looking for an older woman with two not-terrible children.”

“I’ll go out with you, Jack,” said Hannah O’Rourke, coming up with a tray full of peachy-pink drinks.

“Me, too,” said Colleen’s mother. “Though I am dating Ronnie Petrosinsky on and off.”

“The Chicken King?” Grace asked, naming Ronnie’s franchise. “I just love their Mm-Mm Maple Glazed.”