Discarded Promises Page 28
“He may have.”
“Did he betray you?” Denton asked again.
“Of course not.”
“He never went to bed with Alice?”
“No.”
“I think he did,” Denton said.
Sidney remained silent.
“And I think you killed him.”
“I didn’t.”
“Then how did his prized watch get in your possession? He wore it the night he was murdered.”
“I want to talk to my lawyer.”
Denton was gone. Had left a month ago. Quilla didn’t know she could miss a man so much. Even though they talked almost every night it wasn’t the same as having him there. She hadn’t heard from him for a whole week and she wondered what was going on.
Her father limped into the kitchen on his cane.
“Are you hungry?” she asked. “I can fix your lunch.”
“It’s time for you to go back home.”
“You still need me.”
“I’ve gotten through the worst of it. Time for you to get your life back on schedule.”
What schedule? She hadn’t been on a schedule in a very long time. And the control that she’d held so dear was nonexistent. She had put her life in Denton’s and her father’s hands when she had been shot. Maybe her desire to control had chased Denton away. She had never told him she loved him. Maybe he was moving on with his life. Long-distance relationships rarely worked.
“Let’s wait a couple more weeks,” she said. “The doctor said you’ll be walking unassisted then.”
“No. Not another day. I want you to pack up your things and go.”
“Dad—”
He put his arm around her shoulders, and she felt so comfortable lying against his steady heartbeat. She still had problems occasionally with the past, but she kept thinking of what her mother would want. She would never be able to accept what he’d done, but she had to forgive. He was willing to die to save her. And that was worth something.
“I want to thank you for all you’ve done. You didn’t have to,” he said.
“You didn’t have to save me.”
“I love you, Quilla, and if I could take back all those awful years . . .”
“Let’s try to leave the past in the past.”
He sighed. “I want you to be happy.”
“I am.”
“Denton loves you. You may have to move where he is.”
Quilla left her father’s side and went to the stove to pour him a cup of tea. “He hasn’t asked me to.”
“He will.”
“I’m not so sure about that. I haven’t heard from him in more than a week.”
“Doesn’t mean he’s stopped loving you. Call him.”
“I have,” she said with a self-deprecating smile. “He didn’t return the call.”
“He will.”
The doorbell rang, breaking the flow of the painful conversation.
“It’s probably Joyce. She said she was coming over sometime today,” her father said.
Quilla glanced at him with a teasing smile. “I guess I’m cramping your style, aren’t I?”
“Never.”
At least she’d learned some of his mother’s southern recipes while she stayed there. From her dad’s perch on the chair at the table, he’d taught her several.
Quilla pulled the door open and screamed.
“What now?” Owen said. She barely heard the rapid tap of the cane on the floor as he approached.
“It’s Denton. What are you doing here?” He stood there, tall and tempting. His moves were swift as he gathered her into his arms.
“A new job. I’m moving here.”
She leaned back to look in his face. “Why didn’t you return my call?”
“I’m here, aren’t I? Isn’t that better than a call? Besides, I wanted to surprise you.”
And then she was in his arms. And he was holding her close to his heart, then kissing her.
“You all going to neck in the doorway, giving the neighbors a peep show?” her father asked. “Welcome back.”
Denton finally let her go and spoke to her father.
“Go, go,” he said. “Visit me later.”
The two of them left.
“My house?” Quilla asked. She couldn’t wait to get him out of those clothes. He looked great in jeans and a sweater.
“No. To eat. I’m starving.”
“Are we talking about food?”
He chuckled and drove to a small restaurant just a few blocks away.
“How did you know about this small place?” she asked. It catered mostly to locals.
“If an agent can’t ferret out information, I don’t know who can.”
Quilla looked at him from across the console. She’d missed him so much. He gathered her hand in his and kissed the back. “I missed you,” he said, echoing her thoughts.
“I’m glad you’re moving.”
“Marry me?”
She squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him close.
“Woman, you’re going to cause an accident.”
“Yes, yes,” she said, settling back in her seat.
He chuckled. “Miss Independent doesn’t need time to think it over?”
“I can if you want me to.”
“I love you,” he said softly.
She hugged him again. “It took you long enough to say it.” Then she smiled. “I love you, too.”
He shook his head. “Life isn’t going to be boring, is it?”
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed your time with Quilla and Denton. The dog in the book is named after my daughter’s Pomeranian, Lucky, although we don’t take her to doggy day care. The city of Alexandria really is as dog friendly as described in the book.
Please travel with me to Atlanta in July 2006 with my next novel, Bittersweet.
Readers like you help me continue working in the craft I love. Thank you so much for your support and for so many kind and uplifting letters and e-mails.
I love hearing from readers. Please visit my web page: www.erols.com/cpoarch or you may write me at P.O. Box 291, Springfield, VA 22150.
With warm regards,
Candice Poarch
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