My One and Only(64)

“Yep,” he answered.

There was nothing but the sound of rain. The windows had fogged up, isolating us from the outside world. I traced the path of a melted hailstone on the dashboard with one finger. “So Nick,” I said eventually.

“Yes, Harper?” He must’ve sensed something in my tone, because he shifted to look at me more closely.

I put my hands on the wheel, ten and two, and looked straight ahead. “I guess I’m wondering about something.”

“And what is that?”

“Your father was a rotten parent, but you take care of him, keep him near you, visit him even though he never gave you the time of day.” I glanced over at him. His earlier smile was gone. “Your idiot stepbrother did everything in his power to make your life miserable, but you shook his hand and treated him nicely at the wedding.”

Another glance revealed that he was frowning now.

“You and Jane grew apart,” I continued softly, “by which I’m guessing she fell for someone else and quite possibly had an affair.” I paused, returning my gaze to the middle distance. The silence from Nick confirmed my suspicion. “But you’re still friends, still see her, still love her daughter.”

“What’s your point, Harper?” he asked tightly.

I swallowed. When I spoke, my voice was very, very quiet. “I guess I’m wondering why you can forgive everyone except me.”

The rain gentled, the pitch of it softening to a whisper. I looked at Nick. His eyes were lowered to Coco, his hand still on her back. The current that thrummed between us intensified and seemed to wrap itself around my heart and pull. Please, Nick, I thought. Tell me.

He didn’t look up. “I don’t know, Harper,” he said in a low voice, and I knew he was lying. My throat tightened abruptly.

Sometimes the past was too far distant to revisit. And some things were better left untouched. I knew that. I did.

Suddenly desperate for something to do, I turned the key—the battery still worked, even if the engine didn’t—and switched on the defrost. The windows cleared. The rain tapered off, and a golden bar of sunlight sliced through the clouds. Coco raised her head and yawned. “Guess I should check the car,” Nick said.

“Guess you should,” I said, my voice normal once more. “Not that you know anything.”

Nick flashed me a grin and got out, and I followed.

The air was pure and sweet after the thunderstorm, and if there’d been any antelope gore stuck to the side of the car, it had mercifully been washed away. I walked over to Nick’s side, where he was now lying on the ground, looking under the car. Coco licked his knee.

“See anything?” I asked.”

“Metal. Tires. A hose dripping stuff. Oh, and here. A souvenir.” He worked something loose and stuck out his arm, and I leaped back and shrieked.

“Nick! That’s nasty!” It was the poor dead antelope’s horn.

“You don’t want it?” he asked, standing up with a grin.

“No! And Coco, you can’t have it, either. Yuck.” Nick tossed it to the side of the road. “Here,” I said, rummaging in my purse. “Purell. Use a lot.” He obeyed, looking at me steadily. Making me nervous.

“So,” I said, “Car death by goring?”

“Looks like it. Too bad you failed to see the large mammal lying in the road, horns up.”

“Nope. I was too busy being shocked over your little bombshell. Your adorable stepchild.”

“Jealous?”

I faked a smile. “Not really. Dennis and I plan to have kids. Strapping, brave, black-haired children, six or eight of them.”

“Name one after me.” He grinned, knowing I was lying on some front. Jerk. Couldn’t he act jealous, just a little bit? Huh? I narrowed my eyes and didn’t respond. What was the point? Nick and I bugged each other. We bickered, scrapped, fought, resented and blamed. Mad skills, all, especially where the two of us were concerned. Whatever moment had happened back in the car a few minutes ago, whatever I’d hoped to hear, what he might’ve said…it was best left alone.

That being said, I didn’t fail to recognize that we were in East Bumf*ck, Nowheresville. No cars, no trucks, no living antelope to ride to civilization. Nick reached into the backseat of the car, rummaged in the cooler and emerged with two Snapples. He handed one to me.

“Should we ration these?” I asked, only half kidding.

“Nah. Someone will come.”

“Really, Nick? Because I haven’t seen a car in an eon or two.”

At that very moment, we heard a motor. Nick gave me a smug look, then stood in the middle of the road, ready to flag down our rescuer.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“SURE, WE GOT A MECHANIC, you betcha. Lars Fredricksen. He’ll get you set up, don’tcha worry ’bout a thing.”

Coco and I were sitting in the truck between Nick and Deacon McCabe, our rescuer. His words were balm to my battered soul. With a sigh of relief, I felt my shoulders relax. Deacon seemed about as nice as a guy could be, full of folksy phrases and the rounded vowels of the region. The truck was old and smelled pleasantly of oil. A crucifix swung gently from the rearview mirror, and Deacon himself smelled like hay and tobacco, a very pleasant combination.

The fact that I was squished against Nick…well, that felt pretty damn good, too. He had his arm around me—well, not technically. Technically, his arm was resting on the back of the seat, but it was…cozy. The air had turned quite chilly. Unfortunately, my sweater was packed in my little red suitcase, which currently resided in the back of the pickup. Nick, however, was nice and warm. And he smelled good. And he seemed irritatingly unaffected by my presence for a man who loved and hated me.