“I thought I heard something in the trees. I didn’t know if someone was there. I wasn’t going to go in.”

Regina’s voice returned to that harsh whisper. “You heard something? Heaven’s sake! You could’ve been taken! I don’t think you realize—”

“You’re right, and I’m sorry. It was careless. It just might take me some time to get used to the rules.”

She narrowed her stare. “You say that like you’ll be staying some time.”

“You mean Brian hasn’t told the whole town by now?”

Her laugh was clipped, nearly a snort. “Usually would, but he ain’t in here tonight.”

“Is that normal?”

“It is when Nicole ain’t working.” Regina pulled a cigarette from the breast pocket of her uniform and lifted her brow before lighting it. “You mind?”

“No, go ahead.”

“You should mind. Someone needs to stop me. Lord knows I’ve tried.” She placed the butt between her lips and lit the end, her deliberate drags making the tip glow brighter with each inhale. “I take it he couldn’t fix your car.”

“It’ll be a couple days before the part gets here.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

Elizabeth shrugged. “I have nothing to get back to if I’m being honest—nowhere to go. So, I guess I’m…okay with it.”

Regina lifted the corner of her plump mouth, and her dark, round eyes smiled along with her lips. “I’m okay with it, too. No matter how reckless you may be.”

Elizabeth smiled.

“I mean it though. Just promise you’ll be careful. There’s something about you being here.” She stopped herself, as though embarrassed to show such feeling.

“What?” Elizabeth asked.

“It just feels…” Their eyes penetrated each other’s under the single light of the diner.

“I know,” Elizabeth simply replied. She swallowed hard, feeling it herself. Whatever it was. The smoke from Regina’s Newport burned her throat and tingled her nostrils.

Regina nodded, ever so subtly. She took another deep drag and began walking the length of the diner. “Walk with me a minute?”

She did, and Regina made an effort not to blow smoke in her direction. “I hope whatever you’re running from doesn’t find you here, Beth. Not for our sake, but your own.”

This took Elizabeth by surprise. “Thanks,” was all she could say.

“It’s okay. You don’t need to tell me about it. Like Nathaniel used to say, personal things are personal.”

“Nathaniel?”

“My husband. He moved onto the next life six long years ago. He was a good man, good enough to be the pastor here. Bill Thurman took over when he died.” She sent her a smile. “He ain’t as good at it as Nathaniel was, but I might be biased.” It wasn’t surprising that Bill Thurman, who owned the motel, was also the pastor. Knowing what she knew about his wife Anita, she’d half-expected it. “He was loved by this town. Even by frosty Mr. Clayton.”

“It’s hard to imagine Mr. Clayton loving anything.”

Lost in a fond memory, Regina laughed. “Pastor Washington was fearless. He used to call Mr. Clayton to repentance every Sunday.” Elizabeth laughed too, the thought giving her a hint of satisfaction. “Mr. Clayton stopped coming to church eventually, but I get the feeling it was for some other reason. He ain’t one to let someone else dictate what he does and where he goes. Besides, my dear husband was the only one he used to smile at.” She paused, taking another drag. “That ain’t true, actually. He did smile at me once, a year after Nathaniel passed. It was the only time the man ever came into my diner in the middle of the day.”

A genuine smile on Mr. Clayton: Elizabeth couldn’t conjure the image. “How long have you run the diner for Mr. Clayton?”

“Oh, nearly twenty years now.”

“You must be tired. You’re here at first light and stay until the middle of the night. When do you sleep?”

Regina chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. It’s no big deal. Mr. Clayton’s had it that way for ten years. I’m used to it.”

Anxiety rose in Elizabeth’s chest and she took a deep breath. “He seems to control everything around here.”

“Pretty much.”

“And that’s okay with everyone?”

“We get a peaceful place to live, as long as we obey the rules. So I’d say so.”

“Obey the rules,” Elizabeth repeated under her breath.

“All right now,” Regina said with a sort of chuckle. “You give yourself a day and you’ll be agreeing with me. People are wary of what he might do, or take away, but believe it or not, he does take care of us, in his own ways.”

Her chest and face were on fire, and she thought it best to redirect the conversation. “Mr. Clayton is really against the forest, too, isn’t he?”

Regina nodded.

“Strange, coming from a man whose mansion is enveloped in it.”

“Honey, the man’s untouchable, don’t you know?”

They laughed, and she had a feeling Regina would prove to be a good friend. Just knowing she had both Regina and Eustace filled Elizabeth with sudden, warm emotion. It wasn’t until now, she realized, that her lifestyle could truly lend itself to friendships.

Chapter 8

“You should’ve stuck around yesterday,” Brian said to Elizabeth. Gray, low clouds blanketed the morning sky, which was unsurprising for April in Oregon. Just the two of them sat at the booth in the diner, this time at the one directly behind Mr. Clayton’s. With Brian’s back toward him, Elizabeth was right in Mr. Clayton’s line of sight. Thankfully, the man’s face was mostly blocked with a newspaper.

“Stuck around?” she asked Brian, confused. For the second time, she scooted herself closer to the wall, inviting someone else to sit—anyone. The way Brian sat in the middle of his bench made it obvious he didn’t want anyone sharing their table—which had originally been her table, before he’d intruded.

“At my shop. It would’ve been more eventful than walking through town.” Her eyes shot directly behind him, where Mr. Clayton’s paper lowered ever so slightly. He revealed nothing more than the intensity of his defined brow. “Besides,” Brian added, “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m pretty good with my hands.” He winked, smiling his Brian smile.

She exercised all her willpower not to roll her eyes. “I’m sure that would have been a real treat.” After taking a sip of coffee, she pulled it back abruptly. She would never adjust to the taste.

“So, Beth, you came here alone, and I don’t see a ring on your finger…”

“And…?”

“Just trying to figure out why someone like you is still single.”

She folded her arms, resting her elbows on the table, and leaned toward him. “Someone like me? You don’t know anything about me. For all you know, I could be running from a bad marriage. Or better yet, killed my husband.”

A brow lifted in intrigue. Not what she was expecting. “You’re not, are you? I mean, you didn’t?”

“No, on both. But you don’t know what I’ve done, and that’s my point.”

“And my point is you’re easy to read.”

She wanted to laugh. “You think so? Tell me then, who am I?”

He leaned closely. “You’re a good girl. You’d never run from a commitment.”

A good girl. She could almost hear Juan, her brother’s killer, saying it. With that recently overused term churning her gut, her eyes penetrated his. But in his there was nothing catching her attention, nothing she could even call depth. He couldn’t read her. “Like I said, Brian, you don’t know me.”

“Well,” he said, just loudly enough for her to hear, “that doesn’t matter anyway. Even if you are running from a marriage, I mean.”

She recoiled. “Look, Brian, you’re a nice guy. I just—”

“Wait,” he said, lifting a hand. “Spare the speech. Just give me a chance.”

She softened her eyes, sighing. “I don’t need to give you a chance to know it wouldn’t work out. I’m sorry, but I’m just not…girlfriend material.”

He sat back and laughed, nearly shivering. “Who said anything about girlfriend? Hell, I’m not boyfriend material.” He cleared his throat and gently touched her hand, his rough thumb caressing. His face came close and his breath smelled of coffee. “Look,” he said in a voice just as gentle, “there are other ways you can pay me. That’s all I’m saying. We can make your stay here a little more worthwhile.”