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His attitude was irritating, but at least he was sticking by her. She studied his profile with its hard planes and blunt angles and thought about telling him a knock-knock joke so she could watch his face soften when he smiled. A lassitude stole through her, a need for him that wasn't going away. She wanted to tell him to turn his truck around and head right back up Heartache Mountain, but she couldn't do that, so she concentrated on folding the paper instead. "I want to see Carol next."
She waited for him to protest. Instead, he sighed. "You sure you don't want to get a hamburger?"
"If I eat another hamburger, I'll start to moo. Please, Gabe. Take me to Carol's house."
"I'll just bet she's another charter member of your fan club," he grumbled.
"Um." No need to tell him exactly how much Carol Dennis disliked her.
Carol lived in a white colonial tract house set on a rectangular lot fronted by two symmetrically planted young maples. Matching redwood planters filled with purple and pink petunias sat on each side of the front door, which was painted Williamsburg-blue and held a grapevine wreath decorated with yellow silk flowers. Rachel stepped ahead of Gabe and braced herself for what could only be an unpleasant interview, but before she could push the bell, the door opened and two teenage boys came out, followed by Bobby Dennis.
It had been nearly a month since she'd seen him with his mother at the grocery store, but as he caught sight of her, his face hardened with the same hostility. "What do you want?"
Gabe stiffened at her side.
"I'd like to speak with your mother," she said quickly.
He grabbed the cigarette the red-haired boy on his right had just lit, took a drag, and handed it back. "She's not here."
Rachel shuddered at the thought of Edward turning out like this. "Do you know when she'll be back?"
He shrugged, already bummed out on a life that had barely begun. "My mom don't tell me shit."
"Watch your mouth," Gabe said in a low, almost toneless voice that sent a shiver up Rachel's spine. Although he didn't do anything overtly threatening, he seemed to loom over the surly teenagers, and the Dennis boy began to study one of the petunia pots.
His red-haired friend, the one he'd taken the cigarette from, shifted nervously. "My mom and her are workin' at the pig roast today."
Gabe's lips barely moved. "You don't say."
The redhead's knobby Adam's apple wobbled in his throat. "We're goin' down there later. Do you want us to give her a message or something?"
Rachel decided to intercede before the poor kid swallowed his cigarette. "We'll find her. Thanks."
"Punks," Gabe said as they returned to the truck. The moment they were settled inside, he turned to her. "You are not going to that pig roast."
"You know, Bonner, finding this Bible is tough enough without having to drag you along every step of the way."
"The minute people set eyes on you, they're going to truss you up and stick you on the spit, right along with the pig."
"If you're going to be a wimp about it, you can just drop me off there. I'll get a ride home with Kristy."
He threw the truck into gear with a quick, irritated motion and backed out into the street. "We had that cottage all to ourselves this afternoon. Just the two of us. But are we taking advantage of it? Hell no."
"Stop acting like a horny teenager."
"I feel like a horny teenager."
"Yeah?" She smiled. "Me, too."
He stopped the truck in the middle of the street, leaned across the seat, and kissed her, a faint brush of the lips, sweet and fleeting. Ribbons of sensation unfurled inside her.
"Sure you don't want to change your mind about that pig roast?" He propped his elbow on the back of the seat and regarded her with an expression that was so mischievous it made her laugh.
"I definitely want to change my mind, but I'm not going to. Just one more stop, Gabe. I'll talk to Carol Dennis, and then we'll go back to the cottage."
"Why do I think it's not going to be that easy?" With an expression of resignation, he pointed the truck toward town.
The pig roast was being held in the athletic field attached to Memorial Park, the town's largest public space. The park itself contained green metal benches and neatly laid-out flower beds that bloomed with impatiens and marigolds. Beyond it, the athletic field baked in the midday sun with the only shade coming from the tents and canopies erected by the county's civic organizations, which used the annual pig roast to raise funds. The smell of charcoal and roasted meat permeated the air.
