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“You don’t have to apologize,” I said immediately. I glanced at Jo-Beth, and said to her, “Maybe we can just sleep in the car for four days.”
With an inexplicable edge of reluctance, he interrupted my musing. “I’m sorry, ma’am—”
“Phoebe,” I corrected him, tired of the formalities.
“Phoebe,” he whispered. Then, louder, “Phoebe, I can’t let you stay in your car in these parts. It just ain’t right.”
“Do you have another… proposition?” I asked.
He clamped his lips tightly together, as if he already regretted the words he was about to speak.
“I’ve got an old Airstream trailer,” he said at last. “It’s big enough for two, if ya’ll don’t mind sharing a bed. You are welcome to sleep there.”
“Oh yeah right,” Jo-Beth cut in, her voice harsh and firm. “Live in the trailer of some stranger for four days, with the nearest police station how far away? It’s gonna be a hard pass, but thanks.”
He merely tipped his cap, the fight gone from his face. “I understand. That said, there are police in the next town over.”
No, I thought suddenly, desperately. You’re not like that, I can feel that you’re not like that. You’re trying to protect us. Prove it to her.
His eyes met mine again, and it was as though our two streams of thought collided, as if he heard my message loud and clear over the airwaves.
With newfound resolve, he faced Jo-Beth once more, and replied, “But if I may… my name’s Carter Conlin, ma’am. I’m a single dad. My son, Henry, he’s a little over six years old, and he’s the cutest thing you ever seen. Rough and Ready ain’t much to look at, I grant you that, but I’m well-respected around these parts. Trusted. Anybody who knows me knows I’d never harm a lady, even if—” He swallowed, and continued, “Even if she harmed me.”
I raised a brow. What, exactly, was that supposed to mean? This random trucker, this stranger, was turning out to be more complex than the cowboy hat and boots had led me to believe.
But, more importantly, I didn’t think he was dangerous. Mysterious, maybe, but not dangerous. A problem to be unraveled. Call me naïve, call me stupid, but Carter Conlin was no murderer. He was just one man trying to do the right thing.
“Deal,” I said, the words springing forth from my throat. “We’ll stay in your trailer.”
A small, satisfied grin formed around his lips, but he restrained himself. Jo-Beth, meanwhile, wasn’t having it.
She grabbed my arm, and hissed, “A word?” before turning her back to Carter and yanking me aside.
“What are you thinking?” she demanded. “I don’t wanna die in Rough and Ready!”
“He’s not like that, Jo-Beth.”
“Why, because he’s hot and you’ve known him for all of two minutes?”
I shook my head. “It’s the psych training. I can just… tell. We’ll be safe.”
“You’re conflating sexy with safe.”
Exasperated, I sighed, “No, I just know that he’s a better bet than sleeping in the back of the car for four days, without a shower or a bed. I’ll take my chances with the stranger. You can stick to the car if you want.”
She thought about this for a moment, lips pinched together. Finally, as I expected, she caved.
“Okay, fine. We stick together. We stay with Sexy McHandsome Pants. But if things start to feel even a little weird, we make for the hills. All right?”
“Agreed.”
With that, we whirled back around to face Carter, who was politely nudging his boot in some dust.
“We’ve talked it over amongst ourselves,” Jo-Beth said with excessive decorum, “and decided that we will, in fact, take you up on your offer.”
Carter smiled again, a roguish little grin that kicked me right in the heart. He looked like someone whose prize cow had just been picked at the state fair. Carter was positively beaming. But now he wouldn’t meet my eyes. God, why are men so difficult?
“Wonderful,” he replied, “I’m glad to hear that. If that’s all settled…”
He moved to our car, popped the trunk and began to take out our backpacks.
“You don’t have to do that,” I insisted. “We can carry our own things.”
“Nah, can’t allow a lady to lift her bags, especially not after she’s been in an accident. It’s my job to make your stay in Rough and Ready as pleasurable as possible.”
With that, Carter plopped the knapsacks in the back of his truck, then moved around to the passenger door and flung it open, waving a hand to the seat to invite us in. He stood to the left of the door, holding it open as if he were our chaperone.
Jo-Beth still looked tepid on this whole proposition, so to keep her anxiety in check, I went first, walking with false confidence to the truck. Once I’d reached the truck, I laid a hand on the passenger door, mere inches from Carter’s. I could feel his pulse as powerfully as if it were my own. But he wouldn’t look at me. He just swallowed deeply.
