CHAPTER FOUR
“ I know, she sent me a letter.” She looked at him. “Who does that these days, sends letters? I mean, she’s a lawyer, are you telling me she can’t use e-mail.”
“Was a lawyer.”
“Whatever. The point is she hasn’t been retired all that long, I can’t imagine she didn’t use e-mail.”
“She told Macy she was worried about you ending up in a cult,” Newman said.
“What’s with you people always knowing each other’s business? Seriously! People can’t change a light bulb without interference in Howling.”
Newman smiled at her disgust.
“You know what living in a small town is like. If Mrs. Heath burns her raspberry cobbler, we all hear about it. You take the good with the bad.”
“It’s a good cobbler, to be fair. None better that I’ve ever tried, and I’ve tried a few.”
Hope was eating the bacon now. More like devouring, and Newman wondered when she’d last eaten.
“But”—she raised her fork when Newman opened his mouth to continue—“it doesn’t mean I have to enjoy everyone knowing my business.”
“Your mother likes to talk about you. That should make you happy.”
“My mother likes to lecture about me, note the difference?”
Newman conceded that she was probably right, but only silently. He watched as she ate more bacon, and then more toast. He then forked two pancakes onto her plate.
“I don’t need that, or you feeding me.”
“So, I’ve seen a lot of your pictures in magazines, they’re really good. When do you start work again?”
She looked shifty once more, her eyes searching the room, as if to check no one was watching. Odd , Newman thought. Most people liked praise, yet she was clearly uncomfortable with his comments.
“I’m taking a break?”
“Okay, so that explains why you were in that bar with five random men doing an exotic dance.”
She frowned.
“Come clean, Hope. You know I’ll get it out of you eventually.”
“This is not like third grade, pretty boy. You can’t bribe me with your mom’s chocolate cake.”
“I miss that cake.” He sighed.
“Where are your parents and why are they not baking for you?” Hope had a fierce frown that drew her brows together, and made her look like her mother. Newman wasn’t telling her that.
“My father had a heart attack and had to change his diet, and Mom thinks chocolate cake, and anything that has sugar, butter, or is fried, is bad for us now. It’s a sad day when you go to your parents’ home to raid the fridge and you can only get a celery stick.”
She snorted. Not a laugh, or a giggle, just a snort.
“I’m sorry about your dad. Is he okay?”
Even as an adult, Newman still tensed when someone mentioned his father. “Sure. He has a list of instructions, which Mom makes him obey. But he comes to my house to eat something bad now and again.” And to remind me how much I owe him. “They’re heading to my aunt’s because she’s had an operation.”
“I wish my mom would travel.”
“What happened to your dad?” Newman had never asked before, and now he thought about it, no one ever mentioned the man.
She shrugged.
“Dead or alive?”
“Why do you need to know?”
Newman’s sigh was loud. “It’s called conversation, Hope.”
“You didn’t want to know about him before, why now?”
“I never wanted to know before, now I do.”
“You’re weird.”
“I’m weird, when you dress like a thrift shop model? When you snap and snarl all the time if anyone wants to converse with you. And don’t get me started on your inability to understand the nuances of living in a community. Basic stuff like greeting people has always been beyond you.”
“Bite me,” she muttered.
Newman looked at the soft skin on the lobe of her ear, and thought it would be a nice place to gently sink his teeth.
This has to stop.
“So, your dad?”
“Left when I was six.”
“That has to be tough.”
Hope shrugged, but he wasn’t fooled.
“So did you keep in touch?”
“I was six.”
“Right, so he kept in touch then.”
She shrugged again. “For a bit, and I don’t want to talk about it.”
Newman went for another question. “So where are you going now?”
“Back to my room to sleep.”
“And after that?” Newman said with exaggerated politeness. “Because even you can’t sleep in your room 24/7.”
She shrugged again, and he battled down his anger.
“Tell me about limp dick Jay, or I’ll shadow you until you do.”
They glared at each other across the table.
“Ryan’s in London. His band has just scored an excellent gig as warm-up act for a major band. It could be his big break.”
“I’m pleased for him, now spill.” Ryan was Hope’s big brother, who unlike his sister, had manners and for a time had hung out with Newman and his friends.
“No.”
“Fine, I have all day. The idiots I came here to help don’t want to implement anything I say, so I’m done trying. I now have two days left here twiddling my thumbs until my flight out. Trailing you around will soak up some time.”
Newman forked in a mouthful of pancake, his eyes on Hope.
“So, in the cab on the way home from your foray into exotic dancing, you told me you thought I was hot.”
“I did not!” She was blushing now.
“You said you’ve always wanted to mess me up a bit.”
“I would never say that!”
“You said you liked my body best, but my face was something special.” Newman laughed as her mouth fell open. “You seriously didn’t expect me to not use that against you, Hope. If the roles had been reversed, you wouldn’t have hesitated.”
“I hate you.” Her words had no sting.
“Ouch,” Newman drawled.
“I’m going, and I can lose you easily.”
Newman grabbed her hand as she tried to stand, and held her still. “You can try.”
“Why are you doing this, Newman?”
“Because you may be awkward, prickly, belligerent, and those are your good qualities. However, you are also a friend from home who is in trouble. Howlers always help each other, Hope. You know the code.”
She muttered something unflattering about the code and sat again.
“Another coffee please,” he said, releasing her as the waiter appeared. “And another honey and lemon beverage for the child.”
“I hate you.”
“Sticks and stones.”
Her eyes shot to the door behind him.
“Go on, try it, see how far you get.”
“You won’t make a scene.”
Newman smiled, and it wasn’t pleasant, more a curling up of his lip to expose his teeth. Which, admittedly, were white and straight, and according to his mother, one of the best smiles in Lake Howling.
“If I tell you, you can’t do anything about it. It’s done, nothing can change that.”
“Okay. And, Hope… don’t lie to me, because I’ll know. Your eye twitches. It always has.”
They may not have been tight as kids, but when you lived in a small town and spent enough time with someone, you got to know things about them. Hope Lawrence couldn’t lie worth shit.
“I was part of this project studying the whooping crane.”
“That’s actually a thing? I thought you were shitting me.”
She glared at him. “Seriously? Become more aware, Newman. You need to know that we are losing many species because people like you don’t care, and you should!”
“Right, I’ll try and do better, I promise,” he said, to appease her so she’d continue.
“The whooping crane is the tallest North American bird. It lives to its midtwenties.”
“Tough,” Newman said, but she ignored him.
Her eyes suddenly came to life as she talked about her work. This was her passion, taking photos of wildlife, and had always been her thing.
“Unregulated hunting and diminishing habitat had reduced the numbers dramatically to just sixteen birds in 1941. As of 2015, there were 603.”
“Nice.”
“It really is.” She nodded. Her hands were waving about, long fingers fanning as she talked. It was a different look from the usual one she wore, where she hid herself away from people. This one was open and natural, and damn if it didn’t make her look sexy.
Shut it down, Newman.
“They mate for life, Newman. Did you know that?”
“Really, that’s pretty cool.”
“It is, and if one dies, they find another mate and stay with that one.”
“A bit like humans then.”
“Exactly.”
“And this Jay was on the Wildlife team looking into this bird on stilts?”
And just like that Hope shut down. Her face closed, hands settled into her lap.
“I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
Newman searched his memory about Herald.
“It says he’s pretty good at his job, so good they promoted him to your job.”
She didn’t say anything, but it was there. Something flashed across her face before she could stop it. Anguish.
“What happened?”
“I’m not getting into this with you.”
“And yet I want to hear all about it.”
Hope ignored him and picked up her fork. She wasn’t sure when she’d eat again, seeing as that rat Jay had taken her savings. She’d leave Denver tonight, and get back on the road. Looking at her breakfast companion, she wondered when she’d see him again.
His eye was angry, and every time she looked at it she felt guilty. He looked so steady sitting there consuming a large amount of food. Steady, handsome, and confident. Hope couldn’t remember a time she’d felt steady and confident. She knew she’d said those things last night, because she’d thought them many times. He was handsome, and yes, she’d often wanted to mess him up. The humiliation was that he now knew.
“So, how long have you been on the run?”
“I’m not running, just having a break as I told you.” She would just be polite now, and not let him get to her. After all, he’d rescued her from that bar, dressed and fed her.
He swallowed another mouthful, and she watched his throat move. Newman had always represented everything she hadn’t had. He’d been raised by two loving, normal parents. Spoiled, and yet he seemed to inspire loyalty in his friends. Hope had a few friends, but none that really counted, or were for life.
“Sounds like running to me.”
“Whatever.” She was running, because as yet she had found no place to stop. She’d thought she loved Jay. Believed he was different and cared about conservation. Cared about her and the others on the project. Everything had been a lie.
Newman carefully lowered his knife and fork, took a swallow of that mud he was drinking, then looked at her.
“That must really hurt,” she felt compelled to say.
“Like a bitch.”
“I really am sorry, Newman, I never meant to get you hurt.”
“I know, and I accept, so let’s leave that alone now, and discuss the mess that is your life.”
“My life is not a mess,” Hope said softly. “I’m just transitioning.”
“Nice. So where is it you think you’re heading on this transition?”
“Eventually to London to see Ryan.” At least, she would when she could afford to.
“Come back to Howling with me.”
“No.” Her reply was instant, even though there had been a small jolt of longing at the thought of going home. Back to the familiar. A bed, and a roof over her head. But she couldn’t go back there now, she’d been gone too long, and more importantly, she’d have to explain to her mother that she was without a job.
“Why not? If you’re at a loose end, it’s the perfect time, surely?”
Hope shook her head. “Even if I wanted to, I don’t want to.”
His smile was gentle, and she didn’t want that. She’d rather he was taking jabs at her, because gentle made her feel like crying, and Hope had long ago given up tears. They were just a waste of time, and never achieved anything.
“That made no sense.”
“My mother is there, and she takes inquisition to a whole new level.”
“Sure, and others who you know and like. Hell, you could live in Macy’s cabin if you wanted to. It’s empty, and she won’t charge you until you’re on your feet. I’m sure with your skills behind the lens, you could get freelance work. Plenty of tourists come to Howling, you can take pictures of them.”
She’d left her home as fast as she could when she was old enough, and had been searching for a place to land ever since. Funny how leaving was all Hope had ever wanted, and then after a while, home was somewhere that had constantly been in her thoughts.
“No.” Hope shook her head. “I can’t go back now. Besides, I’m on my feet, and I told you, just transitioning.”
He studied her through that lovely blue eye. He really is far too handsome, Hope thought. She exhaled as his cell phone rang.
“Tex.”
He listened as his friend talked. She knew who Tex was, because unlike her, Ryan had friends in Howling, and he kept in touch with a few of them. Tex was Ethan Gelderman, husband to a local, Annabelle.
“That’s actually great timing, bud. All right if I bring someone with me? Yeah, yeah, I get it, first round’s on me, and then the second and third. What? How come you don’t want my firstborn?”
He cut the call and smiled at Hope.
“Good news, I can get you back home without having to pay a cent.”
“I don’t want to go back.”
“You’re at a loose end. Why not?”
“No.” She would not allow herself to even contemplate it. Not until she had a job and money. Not until she had her respect back.
He smiled, and Hope refused to acknowledge how cute he looked. She did not like this man, even if he’d rescued her from her own stupidity, and bought her clothes, washed her after she’d puked on him, and then paid for breakfast. The man was a damn saint.
“That call was from a friend. His uncle’s plane is here, picking up some stuff. He’s then getting it delivered to Brook. He knew I was here, and offered me a ride if I was ready to go home. He said you could tag along.”
“What? No. Who has friends with private planes? That’s just weird.”
“Not to him and his family. Those Texans of his have money.”
“No, I don’t want to go to Howling, Newman, and you’re not ignoring me on this and doing it anyway….” Her words fell away as he read a text that had just arrived on his phone.
“Newman, I’m not going home.”
“You got somewhere else to be? Because it sure doesn’t look like it, and you don’t have money, which has to suck. So why not come home?”
“I don’t want to.” Hope’s heart was thudding hard. “And you have no idea if I’ve got money or not.”
“Do you?”
“What?”
“Have money?”
She didn’t actually, because most often she gave it away to good causes, and the rest Jay had stolen.
“That’s none of your business.”
“You didn’t eat all the hotcakes.”
“I don’t eat all that much, and that’s got nothing to do with anything. I’m not coming back, so don’t think you can steamroller me into this.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m an adult who has been making her own decisions, however badly , for years, and I don’t want to go back home.”
“No,” he said. “Why don’t you eat all that much?”
“I don’t have the appetite of a small pachyderm.”
“Elephant, Hope. It’s what we uneducated people call it,” he drawled.
He got to his feet, which she guessed signaled that she should too.
“Come on, we need to get your stuff. When Tex calls with a time, we have to be ready to leave.”
“What? No, I told you I’m not doing that.”
Ignoring her, he signaled the waiter.
“I said I’d pay.”
“With what? That meal will cost more than the twenty dollars you have.”
“I’ll pay you back then,” Hope said.
Ignoring her, he took her backpack and her hand, and then started walking.
“Stop dragging me about the place.”
“Then keep up and I won’t have to.”
“Newman, I can look after myself.”
“Sure you can, that’s why I found you pursuing a new career in a seedy bar.”