“Ouch,” Justine said, tipping her head to glance at the stain as well.
Burke would be lying if he said he didn’t like the concern he heard in her tone. Saw in the slight crease between her pretty eyes.
“You’ll have to change out of those before we go.”
“Wait,” the man said. “You’re not planning to stay at my Justine’s place while you’re here…”
“No, no” he assured. “Not at all. I’m renting a cabin up there off Wilshire. Mrs. Walsh’s place.” Burke nodded, feeling confident that at least that much was true.
At last Justine’s grandpa nodded as well. “Tomorrow then. And if you’re staying the rest of the week, I assume that means you’ll be at the Piney Falls autumn festival. Justine organized it, after all, and it’s about time she show up with a nice man on her arm.”
Burke nodded; it was easier than forcing his lips to agree.
Another moment passed as the old man scrutinized him and Justine in turn, a dissatisfied pinch in his brow. “You two find a cat or something?” He nodded to the fresh grave.
“Yes,” Justine said, wrapping her hands around Burke’s elbow. They felt nice there. Warm and comforting. Burke needed it in the moment of chaos. His heart still hadn’t calmed its rapid beat.
“She didn’t have a collar,” Justine continued. “I figure she’s from one of the farms beyond Twenty-Sixth Street. We found her up there.”
Wait, it wasn’t Justine’s cat?
The old man nodded as his expression softened. “I’m Wilfred, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you, Wilfred. Finally, I mean,” he added, clearing his throat. “Justine has told me a lot of great things about you.”
“I’ve heard about you, too,” he said. “Dinner, tomorrow. My place. Is six o’clock okay?”
Burke felt like a school kid on the porch with his date’s dad. “I wouldn’t miss it,” he assured.
“Good then. See you kids later.”
Tension drained from Burke’s body as Wilfred hobbled back toward the swinging gate. Questions were piling up in his mind.
Whose cat had they just buried? And did Justine really have some long-distance fiancé or had she just made him up?
Answers to those questions would only lead to more questions. Like, why would a woman like Justine invent a fake boyfriend? Or if he reallydidexist, why would she put up with some jerk who didn’t have time for her?
Justine must’ve been deep in thought as well. She too stayed quiet as they watched Wilfred shuffle further down the road. Slowly then, he pulled his eyes off the distant view and glanced down at the beauty by his side. She waslooking at him, intently, as if she might discover the inner workings of his mind by observation alone.
“Why did you do that?” Her hands slipped from their place at his arm and flew up in question at either side.
She wasangry?“Why didIdo that? Why didyoudo that?”
Justine glanced over her shoulder before replying. “AllIdid is let him think his assumption about you was correct. I didn’t promise anything.”
Burke considered that. “Oh.”
“At least withmystory—that you were only passing through town—you didn’t look like a liar.”
Burke could hardly believe his ears. “A liar by going along with it?”
“No, a liar for not showing up to all the stuff you said you’d come to.”
He shook his head, dumbfounded as he grasped for a response. “You act like we discussed this in advance or something. I was trying to help.”
Justine folded her arms across her chest and huffed out a sigh. “I know.” It was meant to sound understanding, he knew that much, but her tone said she was seriously ticked off.
“And I might not have looked like aliarby keeping quiet, but I would have definitely looked like ajerkby refusing to stick around for a few days.” Burke took a step back and sank one hand into his pocket. “You owe me the story behind this now.”
