That Runaway Summer

“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.”

Penelope slapped the table and laughed. “That’s almost as good as Danny the Vampire Slayer.”

“One preposterous turn deserves another.” Looking pleased with himself, Dan finished off his beer.

Oxygen once again reached Jill’s lungs, yet the corners of her mouth still felt strained from holding up her fake smile. “Very funny.”

Needing a moment longer to compose herself, she rose from the table, gathered her napkin and empty paper plate and dumped them in the trash bag hanging from the corner of the deck.

The tail end of Dan’s story had taken a turn for the ridiculous, yet she was shaken at how close he’d come to the truth. Because she and Chris needed to be poised to run, she’d been very careful not to get involved with any man.

It had probably been a fluke, but just in case Dan Maguire was particularly insightful, she had even more reason to avoid him.

NIGHT HAD FALLEN on Indigo Springs, muting the vibrant green of the grass and the clear blue of the sky. The Poconos town came close to Dan’s idea of paradise, complete with a crime rate so low it was nearly nonexistent. Yet for some reason he’d insisted on walking Jill Jacobi home.

On one hand, it made sense. She lived only a few blocks from the house his sisters called his hideaway, so they were heading in the same direction. And it wasn’t as though he didn’t enjoy her company.

If he were ready to date again, he might even ask her out.

“That sure was crazy.” Jill peered sideways at him as they walked. She couldn’t have been taller than five foot two or three, a marked contrast to Maggie, who was only a couple of inches shy of his six-one. “Did you get a look at Penelope’s face when you offered to walk me home? I swear, she’s probably planning our wedding as we speak.”

“Not a smart move, in retrospect,” he said.

“Not smart at all,” she agreed cheerfully. “Now that Penelope’s hopes are up, she’ll be heartbroken if we don’t go out on a date.”

Whoa. That sounded suspiciously as if she were warming to the idea. Had he given Jill the wrong impression? He’d been confident throughout the night she was no more romantically inclined toward him than vice versa. Now he wasn’t so sure.

“I don’t know how to say this,” he began.