the gas. "Is that the kind of line
guys gave you?"
"Guys didn't give me lines." She saw him raise a quizzical eyebrow. "I never really hit the dating circuit." Her father had kept a tight rein on her all through school, demanding she
be there to make his meals and take care of the house. "I was married at a young age.
Right out of high school."
That would have made her, what? Eighteen? Much too young in his opinion. She'd hardly
been more than a baby. "You must have really been in love to get married that young."
It would have been easier to say yes and leave it at that, but she hated lies, even little
white ones. They'd been the kind she'd lived with for most of her marriage. Pretending to
be in love when she wasn't. There was a huge difference between loving and being in love.
"No," she corrected, "What I really wanted was to leave home." And Wade had been her ticket. "Wade was a marine, that meant travel. Or so I thought." Things never quite turned out the way they were planned. "As it was, I never left the state. But Wade did. He was
sent overseas on four tours of duty, always to places where bringing a wife along wasn't
feasible." That was why there were times when she'd hardly felt as if she really was
married. She did a lot of growing up in those seven years.
Squeaking through a yellow light, he glanced at her. "So what did you do while your
husband was over there?"
"Went to school, broadened my mind." Her mouth curved. "Played house." That's what it felt like because there was hardly ever a husband to sit opposite her at the table. "Got
used to living on my own for the most part." She looked at his profile. It seemed so
chiseled, so forceful. In a way, he looked like more of a marine than Wade had. "Found out
to my surprise that I could."
"I think you could probably do anything you set your mind to."
A compliment. Lord, when had she last heard one? Wade wasn't given to wasting words
and before that, there'd been no one to say anything kind to her at all. "I could have used
you years ago, when I didn't believe that."
He picked up on what wasn't being said. "But now you do?"
"For the most part." Except in those wee hours of the night or morning, when everything was covered in darkness and it seeped into her soul, making her doubt herself. Making her
afraid.
Turning into a strip mall, he brought the car to a stop in the small lot that looked out on
three fast-food restaurants. Hamburger Heaven shared a sidewalk with Chinese-Food-To-
Go and Hot Tamale. "We're here."
He held the door for her as she walked into Hamburger Heaven. The fast-food restaurant
was thinly populated this time of the morning. The quick breakfast crowd was all but gone
and it would be several hours before the early lunch crowd arrived.
There was only one person behind the counter. She looked from Brenda to Dax, an eager
smile on her young, unlined face. Her fingers hovered over the digital register. "How can I
help you?"
"Where's your ladies' room?" Dax asked.
Leaning over the register, the young girl pointed to the far side of the counter on her
left. "Just follow that to the end. Rest rooms are right there," she informed them
brightly.
Brenda was already hurrying down the narrow hall, leaving Dax in her wake.
"Damn it, wait up, Brenda! I'm the cop here, not you."
She pretended not to hear him. Her heart was racing. Dax was half a step behind by the
time she reached the ladies' room.
"Police," he called out in case there was someone using the facilities. But there was no response. No one was inside.
He took the lead. The moment they walked inside, the smell of liberally applied
disinfectant assaulted his nose. The cleaning woman had obviously just been here.
Three stalls lined the back wall. The center one had an Out Of Order sign on it. When he
pressed his palm against the door, it wouldn't give. It had been locked from the inside.
Playing the odds, he went to the first stall. The
guys gave you?"
"Guys didn't give me lines." She saw him raise a quizzical eyebrow. "I never really hit the dating circuit." Her father had kept a tight rein on her all through school, demanding she
be there to make his meals and take care of the house. "I was married at a young age.
Right out of high school."
That would have made her, what? Eighteen? Much too young in his opinion. She'd hardly
been more than a baby. "You must have really been in love to get married that young."
It would have been easier to say yes and leave it at that, but she hated lies, even little
white ones. They'd been the kind she'd lived with for most of her marriage. Pretending to
be in love when she wasn't. There was a huge difference between loving and being in love.
"No," she corrected, "What I really wanted was to leave home." And Wade had been her ticket. "Wade was a marine, that meant travel. Or so I thought." Things never quite turned out the way they were planned. "As it was, I never left the state. But Wade did. He was
sent overseas on four tours of duty, always to places where bringing a wife along wasn't
feasible." That was why there were times when she'd hardly felt as if she really was
married. She did a lot of growing up in those seven years.
Squeaking through a yellow light, he glanced at her. "So what did you do while your
husband was over there?"
"Went to school, broadened my mind." Her mouth curved. "Played house." That's what it felt like because there was hardly ever a husband to sit opposite her at the table. "Got
used to living on my own for the most part." She looked at his profile. It seemed so
chiseled, so forceful. In a way, he looked like more of a marine than Wade had. "Found out
to my surprise that I could."
"I think you could probably do anything you set your mind to."
A compliment. Lord, when had she last heard one? Wade wasn't given to wasting words
and before that, there'd been no one to say anything kind to her at all. "I could have used
you years ago, when I didn't believe that."
He picked up on what wasn't being said. "But now you do?"
"For the most part." Except in those wee hours of the night or morning, when everything was covered in darkness and it seeped into her soul, making her doubt herself. Making her
afraid.
Turning into a strip mall, he brought the car to a stop in the small lot that looked out on
three fast-food restaurants. Hamburger Heaven shared a sidewalk with Chinese-Food-To-
Go and Hot Tamale. "We're here."
He held the door for her as she walked into Hamburger Heaven. The fast-food restaurant
was thinly populated this time of the morning. The quick breakfast crowd was all but gone
and it would be several hours before the early lunch crowd arrived.
There was only one person behind the counter. She looked from Brenda to Dax, an eager
smile on her young, unlined face. Her fingers hovered over the digital register. "How can I
help you?"
"Where's your ladies' room?" Dax asked.
Leaning over the register, the young girl pointed to the far side of the counter on her
left. "Just follow that to the end. Rest rooms are right there," she informed them
brightly.
Brenda was already hurrying down the narrow hall, leaving Dax in her wake.
"Damn it, wait up, Brenda! I'm the cop here, not you."
She pretended not to hear him. Her heart was racing. Dax was half a step behind by the
time she reached the ladies' room.
"Police," he called out in case there was someone using the facilities. But there was no response. No one was inside.
He took the lead. The moment they walked inside, the smell of liberally applied
disinfectant assaulted his nose. The cleaning woman had obviously just been here.
Three stalls lined the back wall. The center one had an Out Of Order sign on it. When he
pressed his palm against the door, it wouldn't give. It had been locked from the inside.
Playing the odds, he went to the first stall. The
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