Page 73 of Deathmarch

“Strange.”

“Because you have a large, loving family. A family business. You have roots. Not everybody gets to have that.”

“What if you get sick?”

“Worst I’ve had so far was the flu once. I took my pills and slept it off in my little motel room. Maid came in every day to change my sweaty sheets. Uber Eats delivered chicken soup I ordered online. As for whatever decongestant and other over-the-counter meds I needed…” She shrugged. “Pharmacies deliver too.”

She meant all that as a good thing. But even she could hear how pitifully lonely she sounded. And she hated the idea that he would pity her.

“Look, Harper. I don’t need anybody. I’m fine. This is good. I’m building a kickass business. I’m thinking about expanding. Maybe hiring local talent in places to add to the show. We could act out scenes. I don’t need help,” she repeated.

He finally took a bite, chewed, swallowed. “So how are you going to get down those stairs in that brace?”

Leave it to Harper flipping Finnegan to zero in on her one, minor, temporary weakness. Her ankle screamed bloody murder every time she hobbled to the bathroom, and that was just a dozen steps away. So fine, maybe the stairs were too ambitious to attempt as a solo trip.

Not that she was ready to admit defeat. “I’ll borrow a cookie sheet and ride it down like a sled.”

“As an officer of the law, I’m obliged to interfere if I see any citizens engage in an unsafe activity.”

“You wouldn’t let me borrow a lousy cookie sheet?”

“I don’t have a cookie sheet. I don’t bake.”

She clicked her tongue with disapproval. “Foiled by typical bachelor unpreparedness.”

When he grinned, she caught herself. Oh God, were they flirting?

He was smiling at her as if they were.

No, no, no.The one thing Allie had promised herself when she’d lit out of Broslin at eighteen was to always look forward, never look back. She did not retrace her steps. As far as Harper was concerned, she’d been there, done that, suffered through the aftermath. Wouldnot, ever, trust him with her heart again.

She finished the last few bites on her plate, then laid down her fork. “Could you please take me back to the B and B?”

Harper leaned back in his chair. “I’ll make you a deal. Let me track down your ex. Let me confirm his whereabouts. Make sure he hasn’t followed you here. Give me another forty-eight hours. All right?”

She watched him. If she said no, he’d think she was scared to be here with him, that she was bothered by the proximity. Which she was, but she didn’t want him to know that.

And his reasoning sounded…reasonable. She would rest easier if she knew Zane wasn’t in Broslin, waiting for her around some corner.

“All right,” she said.

If Calamity Jane could survive for months alone on the prairie, and Annie Oakley could survive years of starvation, Allie could survive Harper Finnegan for forty-eight hours. Dagnabbit.

Chapter Nineteen

“Found a plot of land I like,” Kennan told Harper over the phone. “I wouldn’t mind if you came out with me to take a look. Second set of eyes.”

“I’m in the car, heading back to the station. I have an interview in half an hour. But I could go with you after work. I thought you were looking for a house.”

“It’ll be dark by the time you get out. Tomorrow?”

“Sure. Where is it?”

“By the reservoir. Kind of on the hillside, so it overlooks the water and open land. I spent too much time in the desert. Would be nice seeing water when I look out my window.”

“It’d be easier to buy a home that’s already built.”

“I don’t mind bunking at the farmhouse for another few months. That way, I can plan my place, have it made right. No rush. You should think about it too. There’s another parcel up for sale out there. Your apartment above the pub won’t be big enough for a family.”