Running for Her Life by Beverly Long

She had a pitcher of water in her hand and was filling glasses.
    Alice made a sweeping gesture, as if she were showing off a new car. “Jake, this is my daughter, Madeline. She works at the bank. Head teller. Madeline, Jake Vernelli, our new police chief.”
    “Just interim,” Jake corrected. He extended his arm to shake Madeline’s hand.
    “I understand you’re from Minneapolis,” Madeline said. “You must be dying of boredom here. We’re going to have to find some fun for you.” Her voice was low, almost raspy. She looked at Tara. “Hello,” she said.
    “Hi, Madeline. How’s it going?” Tara asked, trying to be nice.
    Madeline looked at Jake. “Better now.”
    Tara snuck a look at Alice and Henry to see if they were embarrassed by their daughter’s actions but neither seemed to notice. She figured it had been going on for so long that they were immune. Or perhaps just hopeful that something, or someone, would get her out of their house.
    “Please, sit down,” Alice said. She motioned for Tara to take the chair opposite of Jake. Madeline slid onto the chair next to him.
    Jake accepted the platter of roast beef that Alice passed his way. He took a slice and passed it to Madeline. When she accepted the dish, her fingers caressed Jake’s strong hands. He didn’t react.
    Oh, good grief, thought Tara. She looked around the table, desperately trying to focus on something besides Madeline making a fool of herself. Her gaze settled on Henry. His leathery skin was sunburned and his nose was peeling. “Henry, you look as if you’ve spent some time in the sun.”
    “Well, I sure as hell haven’t been going to one of those tanning salons.” He looked at his wife. “Alice wants a shed for all her quilting and sewing supplies. Problem is the man I hired to help me fell off a ladder and hurt his back. I’ve been doing the best I can.”
    Jake looked up from his plate. He directed his attention to Alice. “I think I may have died and gone to heaven. This is delicious.” Then he shifted his attention to Henry. “I put myself through college working construction. Maybe I could help you.”
    The roast beef suddenly tasted like glue. Alice had always been the matchmaker, so Tara was confident that Henry’s comments had been innocent and that he wasn’t looking for a way to push Madeline and Jake together. However, was Jake looking for a reason to spend more time with the Fentons? Was he attracted to Madeline?
    “Why Jake,” Alice practically cooed. Clearly her plan was working even better than she’d dared to hope. “That’s so nice of you. We promise not to take up too much time.”
    Jake smiled at her. “I’d be glad to help.”
    She turned toward Tara. “So tell us about the picnic.”
    Tara was happy enough to do that—at least she could focus on Alice and Henry and ignore Jake and Madeline, whose breasts were about to jump out of her shirt. Tara told them about the parade and the dunk tank and even the sack races. Of course, she left out the part where she and Jake had become tangled. She didn’t want to give Madeline the impression that she was competition. The woman might really get angry, puff out her chest even more, and there would be a wardrobe malfunction of great magnitude.
    They were almost finished when Tara asked about Bill. She felt it would be rude not to.
    “Oh, he’s fine. Just fine. He’s getting married, you know.”
    She did know. Alice had told her at least five times. “Did you get a chance to meet his fiancée?”
    “Oh, yes. She’s a lovely girl. So smart. Has a good job.”
    “Did Bill find a job yet?”
    Alice looked at Henry. He was staring down at his empty dinner plate.
    “Why, he’s in business,” she said. “Sales. Same as before.”
    Madeline leaned forward in her chair. “Yes, Mother. What is it exactly that darling Bill does?”
    Alice pushed back her chair and briskly started clearing the table. The atmosphere was acutely charged. Madeline got up and