Darlene Gardner - That Runaway Summer

Jill edged closer to Dan, shielded her mouth with her hand and whispered, “I truly am sorry. Believe me, I had nothing to do with this.”

“I figured that.” His answering whisper came through clenched teeth. In ventriloquist fashion, he barely moved his lips. “It doesn’t look like Johnny did, either.”

Jill kept her hand in place. “Any ideas on how we can thwart her plans?”

A corner of his mouth quirked. This close to him she could make out the beginnings of his five-o’clock shadow and the thickness of his black eyelashes over those blue, blue eyes. The man really did have dramatic coloring. “We shouldn’t make eyes at each other at dinner.”

She laughed aloud.

“What’s funny?” Penelope asked. She and Johnny were no longer locked at the lips, although Jill wasn’t exactly sure when that had happened.

Dan hesitated. “It’s a private joke.”

Jill widened her eyes and gave him what she hoped was an imperceptible shake of her head. She could tell by his blank look he couldn’t decipher her silent message.

“Oooh,” Penelope said. “That sounds intimate.”

Dan winced. Now he understood.

They ate outside on the deck at a picnic table that overlooked a small backyard bracketed by trees and infused with the lush green that characterized the mountain town in the summer months.

The meal started favorably enough, with Johnny telling an amusing story about a do-it-yourselfer who called his construction company to the rescue after remodeling his own kitchen. The space he’d left for a refrigerator was six feet high—and eighteen inches wide.

“You want construction humor, I’ve got a true story for you.” Dan had a deep, velvety voice that would have been perfect for the radio, making him a pleasure to listen to. “A couple back in Ohio live in a one-room log cabin with a quarter horse. They even set a place for him at the table.”

“That sure doesn’t sound sanitary.” Jill made a face. “I mean, what happens when nature calls?”

“They claim the horse is housebroken. Even lets himself out when he gets the urge.”

Everybody laughed, then tried to top each other with increasingly outrageous stories. Before long, Jill let down her guard and started to enjoy herself.

“So, Dan,” Penelope said during a rare lull in conversation when they were nearly through with dinner, “I’m sure Jill would love to hear how you became a vet.”

Johnny sent his wife a pointed look. “We all would.”

“Sure you don’t want to hear more about the housebroken horse?” Dan took a handful of purple grapes from the bowl on the table and popped a few into his mouth. “He’s really quite amazing. When it gets hot, he turns on the ceiling fan.”

“You’re just as interesting,” Penelope said.

“Not by a long shot.” Dan rubbed the back of his neck. “Let’s see. I grew up in Ohio in a family of Irishmen. Make that Irishwomen. My dad was a salesman who wasn’t around much and I’ve got three older sisters. Even our dog was female.”

“And?” Penelope prompted when he stopped talking.

“And we lived near a farm that had a couple boys my age,” he continued. “I loved it there. At first just hanging around the boys, then for the animals, and my interest grew.”

“Stanley and Dan don’t only treat house pets,” Penelope announced.

“We’re equal opportunity.” Dan smiled. It was a nice smile, warm and inviting. “Horses, cattle, sheep. We’ve got them covered.”

“Why did you leave Ohio?” Jill asked.

He hesitated. “It was a good career opportunity.”

He took another bite of his burger. He wasn’t comfortable talking about himself—that much was clear. He especially didn’t want to discuss why he’d moved to Indigo Springs. Jill could relate.

“Does your family still live in Ohio?” Penelope had either failed to pick up on his evasiveness or was having none of it, probably the latter.

“Yes,” he said after a pause. “My parents live in the same house where I grew up. My sisters and their families aren’t far away.”

“You’re the only one who isn’t married?” Penelope asked.

“That’s right.”

Dan shifted on the picnic-table bench. Jill fought not to squirm, too. Who knew what Penelope would ask next? The other woman leaned forward, as though about to pounce with a particularly juicy question.

“Dan’s true mission on earth leaves him no time for a relationship,” Jill announced.

“Excuse me?” Penelope spoke up, but three pairs of eyes regarded Jill curiously.

“Dan seems like an average guy, a simple vet going about his business.” Jill lowered her voice. “Except that’s only a cover.”

“Oh, really?” The corners of Dan’s mouth quirked.

“Really.” Jill looked over her shoulder, then let her gaze roam over the yard. She returned her attention to her audience, quieting her voice even more. “Did you ever wonder why we don’t see much of him in town?”

“I work a lot,” Dan said.

“And not just at being a vet. It all stems, of course, from those five world-changing words spoken to you in high school by that stuffy British librarian.” She paused for effect, then called upon her most dramatic delivery. “‘You are the chosen one.’”

Dan’s dark eyebrows lifted.

“This is getting good.” Johnny put both elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Chosen for what?”

“To stand alone against the vampires, the demons and the forces of darkness,” Jill finished, and drained the rest of her beer, setting the bottle down with a plop.

“Hey, that sounds familiar,” Penelope said slowly, then brightened. “I know where I’ve heard it before. On TV at the beginning of Buffy the Vampire Slayer reruns. Buffy’s the one girl in all the world who can do that stuff.”

“What’s to say Buffy doesn’t have a male coworker?” Jill asked flippantly. “You’ve got to admit it explains that tall, dark and enigmatic thing Dan has going on.”

“Enigmatic?” A dimple appeared in Dan’s left cheek. “No one’s ever called me that before.”

“That’s what you get for not chatting up the bartender at the Blue Haven.” She put up a hand so he wouldn’t get the wrong idea. “Not that I’m complaining. Most people talk my ear off.”

“That’s how Jill and I became friends,” Penelope said. “A girlfriend stood me up when Johnny was out of town. I sat at the bar all night talking to Jill. She’s an excellent conversationalist. You should ask her to tell you about herself, Dan.”

“No need,” Dan said as Jill was trying to mentally unearth one of her practiced scripts. “I already know her secret.”

Jill heard blood pounding in her ears but forced herself to smile. Dan couldn’t possibly know anything about her. He was simply having fun by following her lead.

“Ever wonder why she tones down that Southern accent of hers?” Dan asked. “It’s because she doesn’t want anyone to know exactly where she’s from.”

Jill hid her shock that he’d hit the mark even as Penelope said, “Jill’s from South Carolina.”

“That’s what she wants you to believe. The truth is that Jill—” he gestured toward her with his index finger, making his captive audience wait “…is hiding out here in Indigo Springs.”

The blood rushed from her head. She clutched at the lip of the picnic table, feeling as though she might pass out. How had Dan figured out her secret? Did he know about Chris, too?

“What’s she hiding from?” Penelope asked in an amused, playful voice.

Jill’s lungs squeezed, making it impossible to draw in air. She fought not to react under Dan’s scrutiny as she waited for his reply.

“Some serious bad guys,” he finally answered. “She went to the cops after she witnessed Michael Corleone off two guys in a restaurant. With the mob and the godfather after her, witness protection was the only way to go.”