He cleared his throat. “So how would you write this scene if it were in your next book?”
“You’re trying to trap me. There will be no more novels, romance or otherwise.”
“But if there were, if God were to call you to write just romances, how would you write this scene?”
Her head tilted as she contemplated. “After today’s experience, it might be fun to play with the expected. I suppose the lesson could go wrong. The hero could be accidentally shot, requiring the heroine to nurse him back to health.”
“I’m not a fan of being shot.”
“This is a fictional story. I have no intention of shooting you. Besides, you’ve already put that threat out of reach.”
He dared a step closer. “How about if the hero asked the heroine to join him for a stroll instead? What then?”
She blinked. “Ummm …”
Was it his imagination, or had the speed of her breathing increased?
“I’d probably have some witty banter or some revelation about the character’s past or dreams for their future.”
“And what dreams do you have for the future?” He reached out and brushed her knuckles with his fingertips.
Her rapid retreat and darted glance outside warned he’d misread the situation.
He stepped back. “I’m sorry. Forgive my forwardness.”
She chuckled but kept her face averted. “No apology needed. Friends share things like dreams for the future.”
Awkward silence fell between them. Lydia’s attention remained on the view of the animals waiting outside for the shooting lesson to be over. Her finger tapped against her arm, indicating she mulled over thoughts. How he wished he could be privy to them.
Or maybe he didn’t. He’d greatly overstepped. She might very well be planning to grab a horseshoe off the wall and chuck it at his head. He deserved it. What sort of cad was he?
He was about to suggest they return to the house when she finally spoke.
“I find the dreams I had for the future are shifting dramatically.” Her arms crossed over her chest in a protective stance that declared her insecurity. “Before this, I dreamed of being a lifelong author; one who could support herself if necessary or share her wealth with a husband who didn’t mind that she bucked society’s expectations of a proper lady. That fantasy has suffered a fatal blow, and I’m floundering to know what else there might be to hope for.” Her eyes found his. “In the immediate moment, I desire to be able to protect myself while you’re gone. I confess, I feel safer when you’re around. Detective Lawson is nice enough, but I don’t know. He’s not you. I don’t trust him the same way I do you.”
That was encouraging, but he’d not assume it was because she felt the same draw to him that he felt toward her. “Why not? He’s the real detective on the case, with decades of experience. I’m only an assisting officer, not even a real detective yet. If anyone is to outwit Billy Poe, Lawson is the most likely candidate.”
“I disagree. How long has he been working on this case? It’s only been since you’ve come on that he’s made any real progress.”
“I’m not sure that you can count what we’ve learned as progress.”
“You’re down to two suspects: Mr. Clemens and Marcus.”
“True, but there is still a chance that neither man is Poe.”
She shuddered and stepped closer to him, though not near enough for him to touch her again. “I’d rather it be just two suspects. It’s terrifying to have no idea who your enemy is. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to go out on my own again without fear causing me to look over my shoulder.”
“You shouldn’t have been going out alone before. You’ve only had the illusion of safety. No matter where you go, there are broken men who would like nothing more than to make a beautiful woman like you theirs for a short time.”
“I know. You are a good friend to worry for me.”
Friend.
Was she putting him in his place? His timing left something to be desired, after all. Romantically pursuing a woman in the midst of a crisis was in poor taste. If Abraham wanted to see if they had a future together, he needed to stop flirting. He could wait until after the case. A slow pursuit would be difficult, but he couldn’t walk away without at least trying.
“Should we bring the animals back inside, then return to the house?” She offered her arm and waited with expectation.
At least she wasn’t afraid to have him by her side. He gladly accepted and guided her toward the door. “I’ll escort you inside and then take care of them myself.”
