Running for Her Life by Beverly Long Page A

threw her napkin on the table. “I’ve got a prior engagement,” she said. She braced her arms on the table and leaned toward Jake, and like a good banker, gave him an even better look at her assets. “Maybe another time?” she said, her tone suggestive. Then she left the room without a word to her mother, father or Tara.
    Alice stacked dishes with sharp, almost jerky movements. Henry shrugged, looking uncomfortable. Tara wanted to say something to make them feel better, to make the situation less awkward, but she was speechless. It was one thing for Madeline to be rude to her but quite another for her to snub her own parents in the presence of guests. That was something a thirteen-year-old pulled, not a grown woman.
    The moment passed when Alice delivered big pieces of peach pie with vanilla ice cream along with cups of steaming coffee. They ate their dessert and made small talk. They stayed another twenty minutes before Jake pushed his own chair back.
    They said their goodbyes and went back outside. Tara looked off to the west, where the sky was starting to darken with lovely shades of purple and streaks of red. It was still very warm.
    Jake unlocked his squad car and opened the door for Tara. She hadn’t expected that and stumbled over her thank-you. “It’s good there’s a breeze,” she added hastily, aware that Alice stood on the porch and could likely hear their conversation.
    Jake didn’t answer. He started the car. She rolled down her window. “Don’t forget that you need to drop me off at Nel’s. My car is there,” she said, more loudly than normal.
    He looked at her, one eyebrow raised. “Okay.” He put the car in Reverse, made a quick turn, and they were on their way. Tara took a quick look over her shoulder and saw that Alice was still standing on the porch. Watching.
    “Is there a reason you’re yelling?” he asked.
    “I wasn’t really yelling.” She took two deep yoga-style breaths. “It’s just that I don’t want Alice thinking the wrong thing.”
    “Which is?”
    She resisted the urge to sigh. He was deliberately pushing her buttons and she was too tired to do the dance. “She obviously is hoping that you’ll have some interest in Madeline. Alice is not just my landlord, she’s my friend, too. I do not want her to think that there’s something between the two of us.”
    She waited for him to respond but he didn’t seem inclined. Nervous with the silence, she plunged ahead. “Look, this is a ridiculous conversation. Let’s talk about something else.”
    He didn’t say anything for a minute, then he smiled and pressed a hand to his firm, flat stomach. “I’ve always heard about roast beef that melted in your mouth but I’ve never actually experienced it until tonight.”
    “Thank you,” she whispered. “And, yes, Alice is a wonderful cook,” she added in her normal voice.
    “I got the impression that Madeline and her twin brother aren’t close.”
    Tara looked out the side window. “I’m not sure what happened. Bill rarely talked about Madeline but when he did, it was pretty apparent that there was a whole lot of resentment. I don’t know about what. He never said.”
    “Families. Hard to figure out sometimes.”
    “True. It was nice of you to volunteer to help Henry with the shed,” she said. “I didn’t realize that you had those skills.”
    “I get by. Good enough for shed building anyway. I like working with my hands. My dad is an amateur carpenter, and I’ve helped him on several projects.”
    Now she understood the calluses on his palms. She’d shared a love of words with her dad. He’d been a newspaper editor and she’d been proud to follow somewhat in his footsteps. She’d expected to have lots of time to learn from him. Then life had taken a very unexpected turn when her parents, coming home from a social event, had both been killed in an automobile accident, victims of a drunk driver. The shock had paralyzed Tara. She’d somehow managed to