Page 38 of Running to You

Or was he lying to her? To himself?

If only she could remember.

“I did my best.” At least his tone lost some of the anger. “It doesn’t matter now.”

“What happened between us?”

“Grab your coffee.” He shifted away from the door. “Let’s go.”

She was tempted to refuse. She needed an answer. But this was his space, his house. He’d been nothing but good to her since she’d barreled back into his life.

“I never said… Thank you, Sam, for all you’ve done for me. And are doing for me. For taking me in. For the clothes.” She rubbed the soft material of her sweater.

“Let’s go.” He gestured for her to precede him.

She grabbed her mug and walked past him, down the hall and around the corner toward the kitchen, feeling his presence behind her. “Did you buy them? The clothes?”

“Camilla picked them out.”

“You paid, I guess.” In the kitchen, she turned to face him. “I’ll pay you back.”

“With what?” He flipped on the overhead lights, revealing an almost smile on his face. “I have plenty, Eliza. I’m happy to do it.”

The kindness in his expression stole her words. She cleared her throat. “Thank you.”

“You’re feeling better?”

“The headache is still there, but it only pounds when I try to remember something.”

“You slept all right?”

“Are you going to answer my question? From before?”

He rounded the corner into the butler’s pantry and came back with a cup of coffee. “I have work to do.”

Apparently, that was a no. “It’s”—she checked the clock on the oven—“five thirty in the morning. And…Sunday, right?”

“Unless we figure out what’s going on with you today, I need to get ahead. We’re leaving here at ten o’clock.”

“Where are we—?”

“I looked up Jeanette on Facebook. She’s a children’s pastor at a church outside of Portsmouth.”

“That can’t be right. A pastor? Are you sure you have the right—?”

“It’s her. I don’t know where she lives, but according to her profile, she doesn’t live in York anymore. I assume you don’t know where she moved to?”

Eliza was still wrapping her head around the fact that her best friend was a pastor. At a church.

“Didn’t think so,” Sam said. “Rather than try to dig up her address, I think we should just meet her at the church. And anyway, if your friends are watching her—”

“Why would they be?” Panic had her pulse spiking. “How would they know about her?”

“I have no idea. I don’t know who they are or what they know. Until you remember…something, we should assume they know everything about you. Maybe Jeanette will be able to shed some light on what you’ve been up to.”

That seemed like a good idea.

“Will that make you miss your church service?” She tossed the question out, an obvious ploy for information.