Page 35 of Capturing You
“No. I mean, yes, I pray.” Sometimes. Though he doubted anyone listened. “But no, I don’t want to. I mean, out loud.” He clamped his lips shut.
Her smile didn’t dim. She hadn’t stopped smiling since she’d announced the meal. Did she have a secret? Had she discovered some mystery?
Surely she wasn’t thathappy. Nobody wasthathappy.
“I’ll do it then.” She bowed her head and offered a simple blessing, then asked God to protect them and the property. “And help Ford find what he’s looking for. In Jesus’s name, amen.”
Hearing her speak his alias in prayer, guilt pricked his conscience. He’d gone by the moniker since he was a child, but Ford Baker wasn’t who he really was.
Did he owe Brooklynn the truth?
No. If anyone owed anyone, she owed him, not vice versa.
Even so, the guilt didn’t fade.
“Well, dig in,” she said.
He bit the sandwich, enjoying the salty ham and cheese paired with the creamy sauce and the crusty bread. It was nothing more than a fancy grilled cheese. But also, one of the tastiest sandwiches he’d ever eaten.
He might be ruined for normal grilled cheeses for the rest of his life.
After wolfing down one half and most of the chips, he sipped his water, catching her watching him from the opposite side of the glass table.
“What?”
“I take it you like it?”
“It’s fine.” He set the glass down, adding, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Niceties managed, he resumed eating.
“Why do you tell people you’re a handyman?” She’d barely made a dent in her sandwich and didn’t seem at all hurried. “I’m sure the town would roll out the Welcome Wagon if they knew why you were here.”
“That’s the last thing I want.”
“Because?”
“When people find out I’m investigating an unsolved mystery, they get curious. They start coming around.”
“I guess you have some experience.”
He shrugged, not wanting to lie again. He didn’t have experience with it, but he guessed how people would react.
“Either they’ll want to know what I’ve learned or they’ll want to share their theories—or both.”
“You’re not interested in their theories? Or you just don’t like people that much.”
“I’m interested, but I want to formulate my own ideas before I hear from others.”
“So you will eventually ask the locals what they remember?”
“Depends on what I learn.”
“But if you do, then you’ll have to admit you were lying. Do you really think that’s going to generate a lot of goodwill?”
“I’ve met four people.” All that very day, and two of whom were smugglers. He decided not to point that out. “I don’t care about goodwill.”
