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“Call me if you need information about anyone,” he offered.
Lori nodded.
“Or if you want to talk. About the land or about your dad.”
“Okay.”
“Be careful. Stay with Molly.”
“I will.”
He stood there a moment longer, fantasizing once again of rescuing Lori Love. She’d turned out to be a damsel in distress after all, but not the innocent, helpless kind. No, she was a damsel of a different sort. The brave kind who fought and lied and stole and did really dirty things with the knight in shining armor. Just before she sent him on his way with a pat on the back. And that was that.
Quinn stepped back and gave Lori Love a little wave. Her lavender truck pulled out of his life in a cloud of dust.
He’d let her go. But only for a little while.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
AFTER FIFTEEN MINUTESof washing, Molly had finally reached the bottom of the stack of dishes in her sink. Lori dried the last plate, set it on the rack and wiped sweat from her forehead. “You really need a dishwasher,” she complained to Molly.
“I told you, I use paper plates. But apparently you’re too fancy for that.”
“Yeah,” Lori snorted. “That’s me. Anyway, it’s hard to cook a roast on a paper plate.”
“Lori, look at me,” Molly ordered. “Stop cooking.I’ve found that’s the easiest way to avoid dirtying potsandpans. Not to mention utensils. And real silverware.” She grabbed a plastic spoon, pulled a carton of ice cream from the freezer, and dug in. “Mmm. It’s even more delicious eaten on a spoon you don’t have to wash.” She licked the spoon clean and dug right back in.
“Remind me not to try the chocolate.”
Molly growled, baring her teeth. “It’s all mine. Stay away from my precious!”
Laughing, Lori turned back to wiping down the counter. She didn’t cook this often at home, but the past three days had been hard for her. She didn’t like staying at someone else’s house, taking up their space and privacy. She felt Molly deserved some home-cooked meals in exchange, at the very least.
Harry Bliss was out of town and not returning Ben’s calls, and Ben insisted she not return home until Bliss showed up. Though she loved spending time with Molly, Lori desperately wanted to be in her space, in her own home. Truthfully, she wanted to lie in bed for a few days and just think. And cry. And eat her very own carton of ice cream.
“I’m going out,” she said as she passed Molly and went to slip on her tennis shoes.
“You’d better tell me where, or Ben will have no choice but to spank me. That man is ahardtaskmaster.”
Lori snorted. “Good Lord, you’re not even subtle anymore. I don’t think you can call it a double entendre if the first entendre’s not even there.”
“Sorry. This new book I’m reading is super naughty. I’m distracted.”
She rolled her eyes and headed out the back door, but Molly cleared her throat.
Lori stopped. “All right.” She sighed. “I’m going out to my dad’s land. It’s all I’ve been thinking about for weeks, and I haven’t set foot on it all summer.”
“Okay, but…” Molly’s voice sharpened with caution. “Just don’t go near it if you see any rich developers hiding in the bushes with nets. They’re not hunting deer. They’re after you, little girl.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She let the door close behind her as she muttered, “I’m more worried about bears.” Rich developers, after all, didn’t like to get mud on their Italian loafers.
As she pulled out of Molly’s driveway, Lori rolled down her window and took a deep breath of air. It was cool and a bit humid, strange weather in the mountains. The air was usually bone-dry here, the sun like a brutal heat lamp on summer afternoons. But today clouds strolled languidly across the face of the sun, dulling its power, and the air was cool with moisture. It felt like the spring mornings when she used to go fishing with her dad.
Over the past twenty-four hours, Lori had come to the slow realization that she’d never really mourned her father. He’d died gradually and she’d shifted her expectations over that time. Then one day, finally, he’d been gone, as natural as if he’d faded away in the sun.
Right after his injury there had been shock and sorrow. That had been followed by hope and fear and adjustment and resignation and lots and lots of hard work. There’d been grief, too, both before and after he died, but only when she had time for it. And only when she’d let herself feel it.
She wanted to find a way to be with him now, and grieve his loss.
