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She pushed away from the wall and stalked down the sidewalk. Looking around her, she laughed mirthlessly. Highly paid. He lived out here with the millionaires in one of these sprawling houses. She had thought him a mechanic, often out of work. And he had encouraged that supposition. Rising anger combated anxiety and won.
She wrenched open the door to her car and slammed it behind her with growing fury. Driving carelessly, she left the exclusive neighborhood, glancing neither right nor left, not caring which of the opulent houses belonged to the man who had lied, misled her by omission.
Tears of humiliation and hurt blurred her vision. Damn him! He had held her and kissed her and then had run away from her to go fight an oil-well fire. Hell on earth. He had left her to possibly get hurt, to possibly
She sobbed as she braked at a traffic light. Chad had known how she would feel about his work, so he had deliberately kept her ignorant of it. He had wormed his way into her life, into her heart, until she ached for the sight of him. He had made himself essential, knowing full well that she could never accept him if she knew about his career. He had cajoled the full story of her feelings about Greg’s work out of her beforehand.
“I hate him for lying to me. I hate him,” she vowed.
And every time she said it, she knew it wasn’t true. The truth hurt, but it was there, baldly evident with each tear that coursed down her cheek. The fact of the matter was—she was falling in love with him.
* * *
One look at her closed, tight face and he knew. “You found out.”
“Yes.” She had had a week to absorb the facts surrounding Chad’s work, but the anger and shock hadn’t worn off.
“Can I come in?” he asked quietly.
“No.”
He sighed. Looking down at the cowboy hat in his hand, he fingered the brim. “I was afraid you might find out before I had a chance to tell you.” He raised troubled blue eyes to hers. “I was going to tell you, Leigh.”
“Oh, really? When?”
“Dammit, I knew how you’d feel about a man who had such a high-risk job”
“And you were right. That’s why I’d appreciate it if you’d leave.”
“Not until we’ve talked,” he insisted.
“So you can tell me more lies?”
“I never lied.”
“You never told me the truth, either.”
“Please let me come in.”
Grudgingly, theatrically, she moved aside and let him come through the front door. Somehow she managed to mask her relief that he appeared to be intact. He looked beautiful. His hair was too long, but well brushed. His skin was burnished to a glowing copper. The Mexican sun. He was dressed casually, but his jeans and shirt were crisply starched, his boots polished.
Leigh was wearing jeans, too. Hers were clean, but paint-streaked. She had worn them while painting a wall plaque for Sarah’s room. They were threadbare and frayed and fit a bit too snugly from so many launderings. Her red sweater was slouchy. Her feet were bare. Since she had worn her hair up that day, the moment she got home she had released it from its confinement. Now it hung loosely around her face and on her shoulders. But she wasn’t about to apologize for her appearance. He had some explaining to do, not her.
“Where’s Sarah?” Chad asked.
“Asleep.”
“Already? It’s not even five o’clock.”
“Only a nap before her supper. She’s been cranky lately. Mother says she’s cutting a tooth.”
“Have you been busy?”
“Yes,” she said, dropping down on the couch. He sat on the edge of a chair and balanced his hat on his knees. “I decorated your house last weekend.” Bitterness dripped from her voice. “It’s very nice.”
“So are the decorations,” he said tightly, and for the first time, Leigh heard a trace of irritation in his tone.
“Thank you. It was so kind of you to arrange for the electricians to be let in.”
