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  Trevor thanked Hannah and hung up. Instead of calling Rory’s cell, he started the truck’s engine. While it idled, he contemplated his next move.

  Should he go to the cemetery and try to meet up with Janie? Should he go back to the hotel and stare at the walls? Should he call and disrupt Rory?

  His belly growled, and he made the decision to revisit Carol’s Diner.

  Chapter Seven

  In the truck, Janie shivered. Hot air blew from the vents, and the truck shuddered. Just as suddenly as the deluge started, it ended and the sweltering heat rushed into the cab, causing her to switch on the air conditioning.

  Studying her reflection in the rearview mirror, Janie groaned. Wet hair stuck to her forehead. She smoothed it away then stopped. Glancing at her gloves, she remembered what she’d said to Doc.

  “We all have something.”

  She’d been haughty, but he’d deserved it. What right did he have to go around spreading gossip about newcomers?

  Old Jim may have spoken the truth about Trevor’s limp, but still it was no one’s business but Trevor’s. She’d personally dealt enough with being different to understand the man’s need for privacy.

  Her stomach growled, and she put the truck in reverse and made a beeline for Carol’s Diner. The lunch rush was over, and only a few vehicles sat in the parking lot.

  Janie’s shoes made squishing noises as she entered. She turned right and headed for her favorite booth, surprised to find it occupied.

  “Oh, hello. How was the funeral?”

  “Sad.”

  “Then it was as it should be,” Trevor said. He paused before adding, “Would you like to join me? Renee just took my order.”

  Janie slid into the opposite seat and picked up a menu. Renee sauntered over.

  “The special today is a BLT with fries.”

  Janie said, “I’ll have the special.”

  Renee jotted the order on her pad, gathered the menus, and approached the kitchen window.

  Janie placed her elbows on the table and clasped her hands. Quickly she unclasped them and placed them in her lap. When that felt awkward, she stuffed them under her thighs.

  “Comfortable?”

  The question took Janie off-guard, and she answered honestly, “Yes.”

  “Good, because we need to talk.”

  Janie tensed.

  “Look, I know when we first met we played this little game where you pretended not to be Jane Dossett, and I didn’t call you on it. But since then, you’ve admitted the truth of your identity, and we’ve yet to discuss what that means.”

  Angrily, she fired-back, “That’s because I don’t know what it means.”

  Trevor ran a shaky hand through his wavy blond hair while he studied the laminate tabletop. Janie regretted her reaction and sighed.

  “Sorry. I just have a lot on me.”

  “I understand. It can’t be too easy taking your mother’s place.”

  “What?” Her voice raised an octave as she narrowed her eyes.

  He shrugged and continued to explain. “It’s obvious that something traumatic happened to your mother, maybe even in your own home, and that is why your father lives at his office, and you attend all his public appearances.”

  “I–I—” she stuttered, unable to control her flood of emotions. How dare he try to psycho analyze her! Here he was, walking around with a limp that people were discussing all over town, and he wanted to bring up her personal issues.

  She slapped her hands on the table, and he grabbed one. Immediately she snatched it back and tugged the glove into its proper place.

  “Trust me when I say I understand living through a nightmare.”

  She slid from the booth and trembled with rage. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  He reached for her but drew back when she turned away. “Janie, I’m sorry. I just want to help.”

  “Why? What is there for you to help with?”

  “Why? Well, because it is the right thing to do. If you are going to help me, then the least I can do is help you in return.”

  Fury welled inside until she felt ready to explode. “That’s what all of this is about. You’re following me around, stepping in with Doc, all of it is because you believe I’m supposed to help save you or bring you peace! Well, let me say I won’t be helping you with anything!”

  She snatched her purse from the cracked vinyl seat and stalked out the door, ignoring the protests of her stomach.

  ****

  Trevor had Renee box his food, and he ate in the truck away from prying eyes. Finished, he drove back to the library. The hoopla from earlier had settled, and only those using the facility remained in attendance.

  Trevor found an empty microfiche station and placed his coat on the back of a chair. Next he perused the aisles, all the while berating himself.

  Why hadn’t he just stuck with the plan? Get to know Janie then ask her to help him. She’d already made it clear she didn’t know how to help him. From what he knew of her, she didn’t have a degree in a field that could help him. No, for whatever reason Rory found the woman significant, it wasn’t an obvious one.

  Instead of taking things slow, he had to rush in and open his big mouth. Even though he’d insinuated he knew about her life, he really didn’t have a clue why her father stayed out of public view, or why he didn’t stay at his own home. But Trevor was going to find out.

  As he walked the aisles of old newspapers, he prayed for inspiration. One box stuck out. Covered in gold and red stars, it was marked Third week of September 2003.

  Film in hand, he took his seat and loaded it into the machine. The first articles listed offered little more than human interest pieces. The most interesting was about a teenage boy who’d climbed a tree to rescue a little girl’s cat.

  Further into the week, the tone changed. A series of break-ins were reported, and the perpetrator remained at large. The last article was titled, Mayoral Candidate Severely Burned, Wife Presumed Dead.

  Trevor’s heart raced as he read the article…

  On Saturday night, Pearl Valley’s Volunteer Fire Department was called to 1204 Junction Road. Upon arrival a modular home was found engulfed in flames. Firefighters worked long into the night to contain the blaze.

  The home was listed as the temporary residence of Mayoral Candidate Jeff Dossett, his wife, Teresa, and their daughter Jane. No word yet on their condition.

  Trevor skimmed the rest of the paper and cringed at the photos showcasing the destruction. One photo showed a man with his face covered and leaning heavily on a young girl. The caption read, Amazing survival.

  On and on he pursued the pages. Obituaries listed Teresa Dossett as deceased, but no information was provided on the survivors’ condition.

  He placed the roll of microfiche in the used basket and retrieved the next one on the shelf. The information was even sparser. Frustration mounting, Trevor sought the assistance of Mrs. Purvis.

  “I’m afraid that information has been expunged from our records. Good day,” she said as she turned and walked away.

  Trevor called, “But you know what happened.”

  She swiveled on her heel, placed her hands on her hips, and said, “Of course, I know what happened, I’ve lived here all my life.”

  “Would you mind sharing it with me?”

  “And why would I do that? I don’t know you from Adam.”

  Trevor drew out his checkbook. “Because I’m prepared to make a sizable donation to your library.”

  Chapter Eight

  Janie couldn’t believe she’d gotten so upset at Trevor that she’d skipped lunch. Looking at the clock on the truck’s dash, she knew she had no time to go home and prepare something before her next activity.

  Detouring toward Old Jim’s grocery, Janie reveled in the thought that Trevor had to pay for her uneaten meal. Served him right after the way he’d talked to her.

  Inside the store, she chose a candy bar and a bottle of chocolate mil
k. Sally, a teenager and part-time cashier, rang up her items and offered a bag, which Janie declined. She opened the bar and bit off a piece.

  Sally smiled. “Are y-you chaperoning the d-dance this weekend, Miss Dossett?”

  “I think so.”

  “Oh, I hope you are. My p-pa will only let me go if he knows you’ll be there, you being a good C-christian woman and all.”

  “Thank you, Sally, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “You sh-should. You’re about the only person my p-pa speaks good about.” She leaned forward and whispered, her stutter less pronounced, “He don’t even like the preacher.”

  Janie pretended horror while fighting the urge to laugh. All the while Sally nodded vigorously.

  Excusing herself, with the promise of seeing Sally at the dance, Janie bounded to her truck. The rearview mirror reflected a happier person than just moments before, and Janie mentally thanked Sally for the pick me up.

  The last item on the day’s agenda was the monthly luncheon with the Quilter’s Guild. Unfortunately, she’d attended the funeral of the town’s young war hero and missed the food portion of the event.

  Pulling in front of the historic home, Janie tugged at her blouse. The fabric had dried and now clung to her in a most embarrassing way. If she could sneak into the building and make it to the bathroom, then maybe she could right herself.

  “Oh, there you are, Miss Dossett.”

  “Mrs. Hawkins, forgive me for being late. I was—“

  “At the funeral, yes, I know. Please do come in and join in the discussion.”

  Janie followed Mrs. Chloe Hawkins into the main room and slid into the back row. Mrs. Hawkins smiled at the members as she walked to the front. She banged the gavel against the podium and spoke in a loud authoritative voice.

  “Welcome ladies to our monthly Quilter’s Guild meeting. This month we have Miss Jane Dossett with us. Please give her a warm round of applause.”

  Janie placed her purse under her chair, clutched a book and several letters, and headed to the podium. Mrs. Hawkins stepped aside and Janie said, “Thank you, Mrs. Hawkins. And thank you Quilter’s Guild for inviting me to your monthly meeting. On behalf of the local children’s home, I offer gratitude. I’ve created a book of pictures that show the children’s faces as they received the beautiful quilts you ladies made for them. Each child has handwritten a letter.” She placed them on the table before the podium. “Before I leave today I just want to say how much your service to our community has personally affected me. I feel honored to be a citizen of Pearl Valley.”

  The ladies applauded, and Janie returned to her seat. The rest of the meeting the ladies discussed their upcoming projects and took suggestions for charities to donate to. Janie sat in the background and waited for the meeting to end.

  Ladies filed from their chairs, and Janie joined them. The truck vibrated as she turned the key in the ignition. The gear in reverse, she came to a screeching halt, grabbing her chest.

  Trevor stood outside her window.

  “What are you doing? I could have run over you.”

  “I doubt it. My truck is parked behind you, and it is bigger than yours.”

  She narrowed her eyes and crossed her hands over her chest. Unconsciously she lifted her foot from the brake pedal, and the truck rolled. Trevor jumped back and swore under his breath. She slammed her foot on the brake, put the truck in park, and jumped out. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “Look, this isn’t the best place to talk.”

  Ladies from the guild stopped and stared at them.

  “Agreed. Why don’t we meet up for dinner later?”

  Weary, Janie said, “Trevor, can we do this another day?”

  He opened his mouth but closed it just as quickly. He nodded. “As you wish.”

  She left him standing there as she maneuvered around his truck and peeled out of the parking lot.

  ****

  Trevor watched the smoke drift from the back of Janie’s truck.

  “I see you have fared no better than others.” An elderly woman with wire-rimmed glasses perched on her nose stared up at him. “That one always attracts men. I believe it is the vulnerable nature she falsely presents.”

  “Falsely?”

  “Why, of course. She has to be as tough as nails to have survived the tragedies that have come her way.”

  Trevor didn’t respond but left and returned to the hotel. The room seemed empty after the events of the day. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he tried watching television, but it left him vastly unsatisfied. He turned it off, found his Bible, and started to read. After a few minutes his eyelids drifted close.

  He awoke refreshed and ready to meet with Janie. The prosthetic leg rested beside the bed, and he eyed it wearily.

  The place around his stump was sore from all the walking of the past few days. He carefully rubbed the area with cream, pulled on the orthopedic sock, and snapped the prosthesis in place. Multiple doctors and soldiers had told him how lucky he was that the amputation had been below the knee. The location allowed him to have increased flexibility. He stared at the plastic foot that now rested where his original used to be. Angry, he picked up the television remote and flung it at the wall. It shattered into a million tiny pieces and he sighed.

  The mess still littered the floor as he dressed in jeans and a white shirt and placed his cowboy hat on his head. Today Jane was going to talk to him whether she liked it or not.

  ****

  Janie rolled from bed, showered, and donned her robe. With her wet hair wrapped in a towel, she bounded down the stairs to the kitchen. She flipped on the radio. A Christian musician sang an upbeat song, and Janie danced while scrambling an egg.

  She crooned in time with the musician, almost coming out of her skin when someone banged on the back door. Pulling the robe tighter around her middle, she lifted the curtain and peeked outside.

  “Janie, are you in there? Your dad wanted me to come over and check on you before I went to the office.”

  “Doc, go away. I’m fine.”

  “Well, you don’t sound fine. I might need to come in and check. I brought my doctor’s bag.”

  Janie rolled her eyes and opened the door a crack. “Doc, I’m fine but I’m not decent. I promise if I need to see you, I’ll come to your office.”

  He looked her up and down and smiled broadly. “I see that you’re fine, which means I definitely should come in.”

  Janie shook her head and laughed.

  Doc placed his hand over his heart. “You wound me.”

  “Doc, I’m sure you have real patients who need you.”

  He leaned casually against the doorframe. Thirty-two and attractive, Doc was highly sought after, but he wasn’t her type. He came on way too strong.

  “I do have patients who need me, but I’m wondering when you’re going to become a patient who needs me. You know, if you would just let me look at those—“

  She interrupted him. “Doc, don’t. I don’t want to talk about this right now. Just go.”

  She didn’t give him a choice as she closed the door and thrust the bolt into place. After a few minutes of trying to peek in, he left. Janie breathed a sigh of relief and placed her dishes in the sink.

  Pulling off her gloves, she cringed. The skin was pink and wrinkled. Multiple skin grafts had left scarring. She closed her eyes and plunged her hands into the water so she didn’t have to stare at them anymore.

  Quickly she washed the dishes. Finished, she toweled dry, before reaching for her gloves. Suddenly there was another knock. Aggravated, she stomped to the door and jerked it open.

  “I thought I told you I was fine.”

  Trevor stood on the other side and didn’t move. Janie looked where he stared. Her ungloved hand graced the door’s edge.

  Chapter Nine

  Trevor couldn’t move. He was mesmerized. Knowing that Janie’s hands were severely burned hadn’t prepared him for the reality. The raw-looking to
rtured skin had his heart thumping madly in his chest.

  She left the door open as she retrieved her gloves and slipped them back onto her hands. “What are you doing here?”

  “I figured you were expecting me.”

  She sighed. “Believe it or not, I was, just not so early.”

  “I can see that. I can wait in the living room while you dress.”

  She didn’t answer as she lowered her head and crept upstairs. He found his way to the living room. First he studied the pictures on the mantle. Most of them were older pictures of Janie and her father. He stroked the edges of one silver-plated frame. He felt a tear in his eye, and he swiped it away.

  The room was decorated in period furniture with high-backed, padded chairs and a couch with a wavy back. He took a seat on the couch, placed his elbows on his knees, and dropped his chin into his palms.

  “Sorry about that,” said Janie as she entered and found a seat across from him.

  “No, I’m sorry. I should have called.”

  “Yes, you should have, but I don’t remember giving you my number,” she said with a smile.

  He leaned back, placed his arm along the back of the couch, and crossed his legs. “So what charitable events are on your agenda for today?”

  “Believe it or not, I’m free today.”

  “Good. Because we need to talk.”

  She wagged her finger. “You don’t get to decide that.”

  He lifted a brow. “I don’t?”

  “Nope. You said as I wish.”

  “I did, but I agreed to another day and this is clearly another day.”

  “True. But it is not the day I want to talk.”

  She went to rise, but he touched her arm to stop her. “Please talk to me.”

  The pleading tone in his voice must have affected her because she sat down and said, “What do you want to talk about?”

  He released a sigh. “I want to talk about how you can help me.”