She smiled faintly. “He made a rug out of it and slept on it every night. When he left us, he was still carrying it around.”
“The rolls were good,” Boone said unexpectedly.
“Thanks,” Keely replied shyly.
“You could get a job cooking,” he pointed out.
She frowned. “Why would I want to give up working for Bentley?”
His pleasant expression went into eclipse. “God knows.”
Winnie gave her brother a piercing look. He ignored it. He studied her face and frowned. “You’ve been crying,” he said abruptly. “Why?”
She paled. She didn’t want to talk about it.
“Why?” he persisted.
She knew it was useless to try to hide it from him. Someone would tell him, anyway.
“I almost got Kilraven killed,” she confessed, putting down her fork.
“How?”
“I got rattled and forgot to warn him that the man involved in a domestic dispute was armed,” she said quietly. “Luckily for Kilraven, the clip was missing and the man couldn’t figure out how to get the safety off.”
“Luckily for the man,” Clark elaborated dryly. “If he’d shot Kilraven, he’d be awaiting trial in the hospital.”
“That would depend on where he shot him,” Winnie replied.
“Kilraven’s steel right through,” Keely teased. “No bullet could get through that hard shell.”
“She’s right.” Clark chuckled. “They’d have to hit him with a bomb to make a dent in him.”
None of them noticed that Boone was sitting rigidly, with his eyes staring blindly into space. There was a look in them that any combat veteran would have recognized immediately. But nobody in his family had ever been in the military, except for himself.
Keely did notice. She knew that Boone had been in the war, that he’d been a front line, Special Forces soldier. She knew that he was reliving some terrible memory. Keely knew about those, because she had her own. Without saying a word, her eyes communicated that knowledge to the taciturn man across from her. He frowned and averted his eyes.
He finished his coffee and got to his feet. “I’ve got to make a few phone calls,” he murmured.
“Keely made cinnamon buns,” Winnie said. “Don’t you want one?”
He hesitated uncharacteristically. “Bring me one in the office, with a second cup of coffee, will you?” he asked.
“Sure,” Winnie said.
“No.” His dark eyes slid to Keely. “You bring it,” he said.
Before she could answer him, he strode out of the room.
“Well!” Clark said, surprised.
“He’s in a mood to bite somebody,” Winnie said solemnly. “Boone’s a horror when there’s no audience to slow him down. If he disapproves of you dating Clark, he’ll make your life hell. I’ll take his dessert to him.”
“No,” Clark said. He looked at Keely. “You have to stop being afraid of him and stand up to him,” he told her. “This is a good time to start.”
Keely became pale. She hesitated and looked to Winnie to save her.
But Winnie hesitated, too. She frowned. “Maybe Clark’s right,” she said after a minute. “You’re afraid of Boone. He knows it, and uses it against you.”
