A Place Called Harmony (35 page)

The leader took off his hat and scratched his head as if to stimulate his thinking. Then he nodded and they all three moved toward her.

“You waiting for somebody?” the leader shouted. “We could help you to your car, lady.”

She forced her body to relax as she shifted just enough that her purse slipped to the concrete at her feet. The bag followed. “I’m fine.” She finally turned her full attention to the pack. “You boys don’t want to do this.”

“What?” the talky one said, still edging closer. “We’re just offering to help a poor lady in distress. How about you let me carry that expensive-looking purse you just dropped? I don’t mind taking it off your hands.”

“Step away,” Millanie said with cold calmness. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

All three laughed and showed their teeth like wild dogs.

“Step away,” she repeated just as the leader jumped forward, bending to grab the bag at her feet.

A defensive reaction, trained into her muscles by practice and combat, fired her movements.

She swung her crutch, hitting the leader in the knee and sending him down hard on the concrete. When the second one advanced from the other side, planning to grip one of her arms, she let the other crutch fall against the building as she swung a chopping blow across his throat, sending him to the ground fighting to draw air.

The third man had crept forward, but hesitated when one of his friends gasped and the other began to cry as he whined that the bitch had broken his knee.

Millanie lifted her crutch as if it were a rifle and shoved it hard into the third man’s abdomen before he could react.

When he winced in pain, she said, “Pick up your friends and get out of here. I’m too tired to turn you three in, but if I ever see any of you again, you’ll be sorry.”

Holding his middle, the coward of the group, and probably the smartest, helped his friends limp away. Within seconds they were no more than whispered swear words in the darkness.

Millanie leaned against the building and closed her eyes as the sound of a car pulling around to the side of the building reached her tired senses. She remained still as the vehicle stopped and the driver jumped out.

“I’m sorry I took so long,” said the tall man from Twisted Creek. “Oh, you’ve dropped your crutch. You poor thing. Let me help you.”

His strong arm circled her waist as he helped her to a battered SUV. She made no protest as he settled her into the passenger seat, carefully lifting her broken leg and locking her seat belt. His hands were gentle, a caretaker’s hands as he spread a blanket over her and propped her cast up with a huge stuffed toy unicorn.

Of all the questions she could have asked this stranger, the only thing she could think of after he loaded her duffle bag in the back and climbed into the driver’s seat was, “You carry a unicorn in your van?”

“It’s my little sister’s. She still believes in them.”

Millanie knew she was safe. No man who carries around his sister’s toy could be a threat to her. “How old is your sister?” she asked as he pulled onto the highway.

“Twenty-three. She’s a fortune-teller at the bookstore in Harmony. For your own safety I’d advise you to avoid her.”

He continued but she was too far gone into sleep to think how strange his words sounded.

As he drove through the night Drew Cunningham thought about how much he loved summers in Texas. Almost midnight and still not enough humidity in the air to allow a mosquito to spit.

He glanced over at Sleeping Beauty in the passenger seat. The lady in distress with her broken leg and tired eyes hadn’t said a word since she’d settled into his SUV. He could have raped and murdered her a half dozen times by now, or married her off to some guy in a commune so she could be his eighteenth wife. She already had the clothes for that career.

If he wasn’t such a nice guy, he could have robbed her, stolen her hundred-pound duffle bag, and rolled her off in a ditch somewhere. She was so sound asleep she probably wouldn’t wake up until day after tomorrow if it didn’t rain, and it never rained in Texas. Not this year.

And another thing,
he mentally corrected himself.
I’m not a nice guy.

Nice guys finish last. Nice guys never get the girl. His sister had been drilling that into his head every time she’d seen him for six months. Only, her lectures were a waste of time. Everyone out by the lake where he lived knew him and they all knew he was a nice guy. So, little hope of changing his image at thirty-four.

He went back to thinking about all the terrible things that could have happened to Sleeping Beauty if he hadn’t come along. By the time he saw the first lights of Harmony, Texas, he’d laid out a whole scenario of how the end of the world had hit while she slept and come morning she’d wake up to a town full of zombies and have no idea who to trust.

Drew frowned. Now he’d have to keep her safe and teach her all the facts on how to live among the undead. It wouldn’t be easy for her to run in the cast and, with those clothes, she might as well be waving a come-get-me flag at the monsters.

Drew tossed his glasses on the dash and studied her in the blinks of the passing streetlights. She was pretty: the down deep, no makeup kind of way few women are pretty. Smooth skin, dark hair, lips that would probably keep him awake tonight.

He couldn’t help but wonder why she’d come to Harmony, a crippled woman with no family to meet her. It wasn’t like this little town had healing springs or a world-class health spa. Harmony was barely on the map. If the world came to an end, the people around here would hardly notice.

Drew turned off Main. She’d said she was headed to a bed-and-breakfast and as far as he knew there was only one. The old place was run by the crazy woman who also thought she was in charge of the local writers’ club. The group had asked him to speak a few times. Martha Q Patterson made Drew think of stories about serial killers who only preyed on chubby little women who talked all the time. Rumor was she’d had seven husbands. Some said she killed off half by talking them to death.

He smiled. Martha Q had told him that he made her wish for “afternoon delights,” which made him even more frightened of her than he usually was of the fairer sex. He had a feeling she wasn’t kidding about the delights part, and she had a dozen rooms at her place where they could work out the details. Just driving down her street made him nervous.

He pulled in the Winter’s Inn drive just as the image of old Martha Q, wrapped in a sheet, hanging from her third-story window flashed in his mind. That sight would be a great opening to a thriller. Only, with her weight she’d be like Outlaw Jack Ketchum in the Old West, who’d gotten so fat on jail food while waiting for the hangman to arrive that the rope had snapped Jack’s head right off when the floor went out from under him. One of the not-so-romantic Western stories.

Drew shook off his imagination and tried to stay in reality—at least long enough to get Sleeping Beauty delivered.

The porch light at Winter’s Inn was burning bright. One-foot-high LED lights, made to look like daisies, lined both sides of the walk. Drew had the depressing impression he was delivering Hansel’s sister, Gretel, to the cottage in the woods. Maybe he should run up and ask if there was room at the inn before waking the beauty beside him.

As he stepped out of his van, Martha Q opened the door and waved at him just like the witch in the fairy tale must have done to the siblings.

Having no choice, he circled the car and opened the passenger door. There she was, dreaming away. Her midnight hair, her perfect complexion, her kissable mouth.

Without much thought, he leaned in and brushed her lips with his as he reached to unbuckle her seat belt.

She made a little sound in her sleep and he fought the urge to deepen the kiss.

“That you, Andrew Cunningham?” Martha Q yelled loud enough to awaken the block. “I didn’t know you’d be bringing my guest. When she called from London, I was sure she couldn’t be from around here even if her name is McAllen.” The round little lady had waddled halfway down the walk. “If she was kin to any McAllen, she’d be staying with them, I’d bet. Probably another one of them genealogy types tracing her roots.”

Martha Q didn’t offer to help but continued to talk.

Drew brushed Sleeping Beauty’s cheek. “Wake up, Miss McAllen. We’re here.” He fought the urge to kiss her again. That first kiss had certainly brought him fully awake.

In the background he heard Martha Q saying that Hank Matheson told her if another person came here claiming kin, he planned to take a power saw to a few branches of the family tree. McAllens and Mathesons reproduced like rabbits around these parts.

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” Drew whispered near her ear. You’re at Winter’s Inn.”

Green eyes opened and stared at him. “Who are you?” she asked, surprise in her voice but no fear.

“I’m just your driver, miss.” He pointed at the backside of Martha Q as she leaned over, straightening one of the daisy night-lights. “And that is the innkeeper at Winter’s Inn.”

Sleeping Beauty smiled. “Noisy one, isn’t she?”

Drew couldn’t hold back a grin. “She has to make that noise if there’s a chance she might be backing up.”

While Martha Q rambled on about how dark it was around her place, Drew helped his passenger out of his van. “Just hold on to me and I’ll carry your crutches. I don’t think the walk’s wide enough to maneuver on crutches in the dark.”

She looped her arm over his shoulder and he circled her waist. At six foot one he rarely saw a woman near his height, but she was within three inches. They progressed down the walkway, her cast taking out every other LED light.

“I’m Millanie McAllen,” she said as she hopped along.

“Andrew Cunningham. My friends call me Drew.”

“Thank you, Drew, for bringing me here. I owe you one.”

He knew he was probably being forward, but the lady was plastered against his side. “You staying long, Millanie?”

She looked up with those tired green eyes and he knew she was a woman who never lied.

“I don’t know,” she finally answered. “Getting here was my first plan of action. I’ll think of my second when I’ve slept the clock around and eaten a few meals.”

Millanie McAllen might think she knew exactly where on the planet she was, but Drew saw the truth in those beautiful eyes.

She was lost.

“Andrew!” Martha Q yelled. “Any chance you two are going to make it in to sign the register before dawn? I can’t stand here waiting if she’s not interested. I’m missing the
Late Show
.”

Sleeping Beauty looked directly at him when she answered Martha Q, “I’m interested.”