Page 54 of Liar Byrd
“Pull your legs in, darlin’. Let’s get back inside now.”
I do as he says
There’s a bulge in the small of his back when he turns, and my eyes are glued to it long after he’s slammed my door shut and rounded the car to climb into the driver’s seat.
It doesn’t hit me what it could be until he flashes the fob to open the gates, and they slide open.
A gun.
He was in the army, which means he knows how to kill, and we’re about to re-enter a house where there’s a killer. Is it crazy to feel so relieved about passing through those gates and watching them slam shut again behind us?
Vonn parks his truck on the gravel feet from the front door, and it flies open before I can ask him about his gun and whether he used it recently.
Nance steps out in a flour-dusted apron.
Shit.
Her eyes bounce from me to Vonn, and a line forms between her eyebrows. She’s going to ask about the groceries I don’t have and her car that I left parked outside the grocery store. And I will have to tell her I was an idiot.
Vonn cuts the engine, opens his door, and steps out, calling out. “You’ll need to send Lydia and Kit into town to pick up your car and more groceries. Had a bit of an accident in town.”
“Anaccident…” Nance echoes.
He flashes her a grin. “I was stepping out of my truck as our pretty new maid was walking out of the grocery. I gave her a bit of a surprise, and the bag went kaput. I brought her back, but can you send Lydia to get the car and more groceries? Kit can drive her down, and she can drive your car back.”
Her concern melts away. “Oh, yes.” Her eyes flick to me.
I speak to her through my open window. “Sorry, Nance. I know you needed the flour for?—”
“No need for apologies.” She waves a dusty hand at me. “As long as you’re all right. That’s all that matters.” She gives me a quick once-over, confirms that I’m okay, and then nods once before turning away, shouting. “Lydia? You need to go to town.”
Vonn lied for me so I could keep my job. If he had told her what really happened, I would have lost it.
Vonn turns to me. “You need me to get that door for you?”
“I got it.” I fumble to get it open.
Vonn told me what a faint is. A lack of oxygen to the brain. He said nothing about the effect it would have on my knees. I take a step out of the truck and keep going.
Hands grip me, a man emerging out of nowhere, catching me before I hit the ground like the milk outside the store.
Nash.
“Are you okay?” he asks me.
Nodding, I get my legs steady under me. “I’m fine now.”
His hands fall away as his eyes search my face. “Take the rest of the day.”
I blink up at him, confused about where he came from, but also what he means. “What?”
“Nance is on top of the cooking, so she doesn’t need the help, and you’ve cleaned so well there’s not much else to do. Have the rest of the day off.”
On my days off, I sit in my room, cleaning already clean surfaces when my mind wanders, or wandering the garden when cleaning isn’t enough.
What I need is to keep busy, not to have more time off to let my mind wander, but I don’t argue. After the shock I had, I need at least an hour to recover.
“Thanks,” I tell him, and I walk into the house.
