“My father was an FBI agent, and he died a hero later in life.” She frowned. “My mother divorced him when I was four-years-old, and she married Joe. My father was married to his job, and I’d rarely see him. But he called me on my birthday and on holidays.”
She’d been staring at the edge of the table and only looked up when Zack took hold of her hand and softly caressed the back of it.
“I’m sorry,” he said with concern in his voice.
“My teenage years were difficult, and I wanted to prove to those who didn’t believe in me that I could do something important like my father. I could be a hero just like he was.”
“Do you love your job as your father had?”
She gave him a small smile. “Yes. I suppose you can say I’m married to my job, too.”
Nodding, he continued to caress her hand. “I don’t quite understand something.” He paused, staring deeply into her eyes. “Where in your quest to find acceptance did you come to love historical painters so much?”
A different emotion filled her as she found her smile. “That happened in college. I had the best professor.” She shrugged. “I don’t know what it was, but some of the older paintings captured an essence of my inner self and made me feel things in a different way.” She sighed. “It’s hard to explain. But it was exactly what I needed at that time in my life. It was the one thing that made me feel special.”
“Whitney?” he asked softly. “Why didn’t you feel special growing up?”
She’d definitely said too much. That was mainly why she shut her mouth while doing her job. Once she started talking about her past, the floodgates would open. She couldn’t let that happen with Zack.
“Oh, look.” She pointed toward the waiter. “Our salads are here.”
She would purposely eat the salad slowly, even though she was starved. There was no way she wanted to talk any more about her and her past. She didn’t feel comfortable discussing her past unless she was with her psychiatrist.
Whitney had to watch what she said from now on. Who knew how long she and Zack would be hiding out? But one thing was for sure. She didnotwant to have feelings for him – unless they were feelings of dislike.
SEVEN
Zack was sure thatthe FBI agent was keeping secrets from him. Of course, he didn’t expect Whitney to tell him every detail of her life, but she had clammed up right after their salads had been served, and she’d been remarkably quiet since then.
Now, as they drove toward the woods in the dark, he tried to think of an interesting topic to discuss. But the more he watched the town disappear behind them, the more he worried that she didn’t know where she was going. No way did he want to get stranded out here. The one thing he knew about Maine was that they had black bears and moose... both of which could kill a person if the animals were angered. He wasn’t a hunter, but he’d certainly fight for survival. The only time he came to Maine – which wasn’t often – was to stay at the tourist attraction, Mary’s Bed and Breakfast.
These woods looked nothing like the little town he’d taken some of his dates to for a romantic weekend. He wouldn’t know what to do in the woods if something were to happen to him or Whitney.
When she turned off the main road, unease settled deeper within him. The woods were thicker, and the dirt road appeared a little muddy as if there had been a rainstorm sometime today. Driving in the mud with his mother’s car didn’t exactly seem like a safe way to travel.
“Hey, Whitney? Do you know where you’re going?”
