Miss Goody Two-Shoes: Contemporary Romance Page 2

Mel gave her father what he’d often referred to as one of those looks. The last time she’d given him such a look was when he’d gone to the front of the church to rededicate his life to the Lord, and his fly had been unzipped.

  “Daddy, I’m sure Mr. Stoddard has better things to do with his time than take me to lunch.”

  “No, I don’t,” Kane replied. “I’ve got all the time in the world.”

  “See there?” Wilton said. “Now there’s a gentleman if I ever saw one.”

  Mel wanted to shake her father till his teeth rattled. Couldn’t he see they weren’t dealing with the average citizen here? Did he not notice Kane’s long hair, the bushy, ill-kept beard, and that thick piece of chain in his left ear? Had he totally overlooked Kane’s muddy biker boots and grungy clothes that made him resemble an … an escaped convict, for heaven’s sake? Mel was so jolted by the thought that she was half-afraid she would faint again.

  Nevertheless, she knew her father would not notice Kane’s shortcomings. Wilton Abercrombie only saw goodness in people. Even when he was forced to acknowledge Blair’s faults, he always took time to point out her assets, as well.

  “I appreciate the offer, Mr. Stoddard,” Mel said at last, trying to make her voice sound natural despite a sudden attack of nerves, “but I really need to stay and clear these shelves.”

  Kane cupped her elbow with one hand. “Oh, but I insist, Miss Abercrombie,” he said, his tone final and matter-of-fact. He had to talk to her. He needed a job and a place to live right away. If anybody could advise him on either, he knew Melanie Abercrombie was the one.

  Mel opened her mouth to protest, but the look in his eyes stopped her cold. He flashed her a gentle but firm warning. What did he mean, he insisted? Here he was, a convicted criminal, serving time for robbing a convenience store and killing the clerk, and he was insisting she go with him? She tried to remain calm, but it was not easy. If he had indeed escaped, that could only mean one thing: He expected her to hide him.

  Mel glanced at her father, wishing there was some way to let him know they were in danger. Her heart turned over in her chest at the thought of his getting hurt. She couldn’t risk it. She would do whatever Kane Stoddard wished.

  “On second thought, I’d love to go,” she said, trying to sound enthusiastic. Nevertheless, her legs shook as she made her way to the door. She stepped out, spied the enormous motorcycle, and froze. “You don’t expect me to ride that!”

  Kane almost smiled at the thought of her riding his motorcycle in her frumpy clothes, her skirt flapping in the breeze like a banner. “You’re right, I don’t,” he said.

  Mel led him across the parking lot to a white late-model station wagon and opened the door.

  “Mind if I toss my duffel bag in the backseat?” Kane asked.

  “Suit yourself.” Mel climbed into the car and fumbled through her purse for her keys. He joined her, shoving his seat back as far as it would go to accommodate his long legs. “Where do you want to eat?” she asked as she started the car and pulled out onto the narrow two-lane highway.

  “That’s up to you,” Kane told her, figuring she would know where the best food was served. “Just as long as there are not a lot of people,” he added, remembering the long lines in prison, being jammed elbow to elbow at the dining table with men who didn’t practice good hygiene on a regular basis. “Crowds make me uncomfortable.”

  Mel wasn’t surprised. If he was hiding out, it made sense he’d want to keep a low profile. “There’s a house not far from here. It belongs to my best friend and her husband. They’re on vacation in Florida. I have the key.” Mel said a silent apology to her friend who’d asked her to water her plants while she was away. But where else could she take him? She had to convince Kane that she was willing to help him. Once he trusted her, she could go for help. “You have to promise not to bother anything.”

  Kane didn’t quite know how to respond to her offer of free lodging when all he’d expected was the name of a place where he could rent something cheap.

  “Thanks,” he said, thinking he should at least show his appreciation, although doing so didn’t come easy to him. Not that he was used to folks going out of their way for him. He’d learned at an early age that if he wanted something, he had to take it. He couldn’t help but wonder why Melanie Abercrombie was so eager to help. Was she doing it out of the goodness of her heart, or did she have an ulterior motive? Most folks, if you looked closely enough, never did anything unless it benefited them in some way. At least that’s what he’d discovered. “I won’t mess with their stuff,” he added.

  Mel turned onto a dirt road and pulled in front of a frame house with a narrow porch. “This is it,” she said, as she cut the engine.

  Kane glanced across the seat at the woman driving and found himself wondering about her, not for the first time. She’d told him very little about herself over the past months, writing mostly about her family and the town in which she’d grown up. Now he was curious. Was there a man in her life? Why did she try to hide her femininity and good looks with unattractive clothes and ugly glasses? And why was she so nervous? Was she sorry he’d come? He glanced at the house, then back at her. “I thought we were going to a restaurant first.”

  She snapped her head around. “How can you possibly think of eating at a time like this?”

  He could see that she was truly upset. “I wasn’t asking for myself,” he said. “I promised your father I’d see that you ate.”

  Mel had had enough of his games. Here he was, expecting her to risk her neck by hiding him from the police, and he was pretending to be concerned about whether or not she was fed. “How kind of you,” she blurted, her voice edged with sarcasm. “I suppose you’d feel guilty shooting me on an empty stomach.” The car was suddenly silent. Mel regretted her words the moment she said them, but it was too late to take them back. Instead, she gazed out the window wordlessly, afraid to move or even breathe.

  Kane wondered if he’d heard her correctly. “What did you say?”

  Tears welled up in her eyes, and Mel blinked furiously to hold them back. She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing how frightened she was.

  “Don’t pretend you aren’t considering it,” she said. “After all, I can identify you.”

  He stared back at her for a full minute. “Lady, I don’t have the first clue what you’re talking about. I’ve never shot anybody in my life. Why would I want to start with you?”

  One fat tear fell from her eye and rolled down her cheek. “You don’t really expect me to believe that. I know why you were imprisoned. The warden told me.”

  “You talked to the warden at Leavenworth?”

  She hitched her chin high. “That’s right. After I wrote several letters to you and got no answer, I called to make sure you had received them. The warden told me about the man you shot.”

  “And you believed him?” When she didn’t answer, Kane decided she had believed what she’d been told. He clenched his fists in his lap. He could feel his anger mounting, intensifying with each breath he took. Wasn’t that always the way? People automatically believed the worst about him. Just as the jury had believed the worst and convicted him of cold-blooded murder.

  “So why’d you keep writing?” he asked. “If you thought I was such a lost cause.” He knew there were women who wrote to convicts out of sheer loneliness. Hell, some women went so far as to marry them, although he didn’t figure it was much of a life. He thought it was selfish for a prisoner to encourage such a relationship, no matter how lonely he was. Which is why, no matter how much he’d enjoyed and looked forward to Melanie Abercrombie’s letters, he’d refused to take part in the correspondence and make her feel obligated.

  “I was only trying to help you,” Mel said.

  “Help me what?” When she refused to answer, he gripped her arm. “Look at me when I talk to you.”

  Mel flinched. His fingers were warm and strong. She looked at him. His eyes glittered dangerously. She wondered if p
rison had hardened him, or if he’d been that way before going in. She wondered if he would hurt her. “What do you want me to say?”

  “I want to know why you kept writing when I never so much as answered the first letter. Did it turn you on to write to a convicted killer?”

  “That’s sick.”

  “Yeah, but it’s true, isn’t it? You got all hot and bothered over it, didn’t you?”

  “How come it’s so important for you to know why I did it?”

  “Because,” was all he said. He was tempted to tell her. It was important because she had literally changed the direction of his life. She had done what youth-detention centers and the penal system had failed to do. Through her letters, he had discovered an entirely different way of life. Now he wanted to know why she had bothered when everyone else had given up. Had she simply been trying to bring her quota of souls to salvation, or had she genuinely cared about the embittered man sitting in Leavenworth Prison?

  Mel turned away once more. How could she explain her reasons to a man she barely knew? He would never understand what it was like living in the same house all your life, in the same small town where everybody knew everybody else and nothing much ever happened to break the monotony. Even her relationship with Harper Beckwood wasn’t likely to bloom into the passionate sort of love that conjured up sonnets and love songs. All she had was her little flower shop, and that, as much as she loved it, wasn’t enough. Writing to Kane had filled her with a sense of accomplishment. Perhaps she could make a difference in his life, she’d told herself.

  “I just wanted to help,” she repeated at last. “I thought—”

  “What did you think?” he interrupted. “That you could save my sorry soul?” He laughed, but the sound was totally without mirth. “What makes you think I have one?”

  “Everyone has a soul,” she replied.

  “It’s not my soul that ails me at the moment,” he said, his tone deadly.

  Mel’s head snapped up, and their gazes collided. There was a restless sort of energy about him. The expression on his face reminded her of gathering storm clouds. He raised his hand to her cheek. She flinched.

  “I only want to touch you,” he said. His voice, though quiet, possessed an ominous quality.

  Mel sat riveted as he explored her face with warm fingertips. He stroked her cheek, and then traced the outline of her mouth and jaw. Her cheeks grew pink under the heat of his stare. She held her breath as he slid his fingers down her throat.

  Kane noted the tense lines on her face, the rapid rise and fall of her breasts. “It’s been three years since I’ve touched a woman,” he said. “Salvation is not exactly what I’m looking for.”

  His look was so intense; it sent a tremor through her. She watched his grim-faced expression turn to desire. He exuded danger. “Please don’t,” she said, her voice a mere whisper.

  The shudder that passed through her did not go unnoticed by Kane. He snatched his hand away. What was she thinking? “I’m sorry you find me so repulsive,” he said, clenching his teeth as anger surged through him. “Or maybe you think you’re too damn good for me.” He reached for the door handle, feeling as though he would tear it off if he didn’t get out of the car soon. He was both embarrassed and disappointed. This was not the same woman who’d encouraged him to hope and dream again, reminding him over and over that the past did not equal the future. He climbed out and reached for his duffel bag. His dark eyes blazed with fire as he regarded her, huddled against her side of the car as though she couldn’t bear for him to touch her, even by accident.

  “You’re one self-righteous woman, you know that? I was a fool to think you’d be happy over my release, but your letters were so convincing. I guess that makes you a phony as well, doesn’t it?” He didn’t give her a chance to answer. Instead, he backed away and slammed the door so hard, it rocked the car.

  Feeling very fragile after the way Kane had talked to her, Mel watched him stalk away, his duffel bag thrown over one broad shoulder. Her fear ebbed somewhat once she realized he wasn’t going to hurt her after all. She sat there, blank, amazed, and terribly shaken. What the heck did he mean, he’d been released?

  Hands trembling, she started the car and put it in reverse. She wanted to escape but couldn’t. Something more powerful than common sense drove her.

  She went after him.

  Kane was walking along the road, his strides long and purposeful, headed back to his motorcycle, and eventually, the interstate. From there he could go in a number of directions.

  Suddenly, she knew she had to stop him, at least until she learned the circumstances of his release. She slowed the car and rolled down the window. Kane glanced up, saw it was her, and kept walking.

  “Mr. Stoddard, wait, I have to talk to you,” she called out through the open window. He ignored her. She persisted. “What do you mean you were released?”

  Kane paused and looked at the sky as though trying to decide whether to deal with her or tell her to go straight to hell. “They found the man who committed the crime.”

  “You mean you were serving time for a crime you didn’t commit?”

  “Something like that, yeah.” He turned and started down the road again. The sooner he got away from Hooterville and Miss Melanie Abercrombie, the better.

  Mel touched the accelerator. The car rolled forward. She leaned across the passenger seat once more and called out to him through the window. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He kept on walking. “Would you have believed me?” He obviously didn’t expect an answer, because he didn’t so much as look at her.

  Mel continued to roll along the road beside him. “So they let you out because they found the real killer?”

  “How else would I have gotten out?”

  “Well, you could have escaped.”

  He stopped dead in his tracks and gave her a funny look. “Is that what you thought?”

  She was embarrassed to have to admit it. “It crossed my mind.”

  “So that’s why you were acting weird. Do you think I’d be crazy enough to pull a stunt like that?” He frowned in exasperation and walked away. “I gotta go. I’ve wasted enough time.”

  “No, wait!” But he was already moving away from the car. Mel followed, pulling off the road onto the shoulder so she would not impede other motorists. She tried to ignore the looks she received as she followed directly behind the man, yelling out her window to him. “Kane, I’m sorry for what I thought,” she said, deciding she could drop the formality. “I had no idea you were innocent or that they’d released you. I mean, what was I supposed to think? Here you are serving life without parole, and you show up out of the blue. What would you think?”

  He didn’t answer, didn’t even bother to slow down.

  “I’m sorry I let you down. You have a right to be angry with me. I’d like to make it up to you.”

  He stopped dead in his tracks and turned. “What did you have in mind?” he called back.

  Mel was not prepared for his sudden halt or the blatant innuendo. She slammed on the brakes, spitting gravel in all directions. The car careened, and she tried to right it, but it was too late. The next thing she knew, she was sliding toward the ditch.

  Chapter 3

  The car seemed to take forever to reach the bottom of the ravine, although in reality it happened in a matter of seconds. Held in place by her seat belt, Mel closed her eyes, covered her head with her hands, and prepared to die. When, at last, the car came to a jaw-jolting halt at the bottom, she opened her eyes and found her headlights pointed straight down.

  Having watched the whole thing in disbelief, Kane dropped his duffel bag and hurried down the steep ditch. Anxiety knotted his gut when he realized it was probably his fault she’d gone down. He found her leaning against the steering wheel. “Are you okay?” he yelled. He banged on the window to make sure she heard him.

  Trembling from head to foot, Mel raised up and glared at the man who somehow managed to look compassionate,
despite the beard. Nevertheless, angry tears stung her eyes. “Go away!” she said. “Just go away and leave me alone.”

  Kane was too relieved to be angry. “Why are you mad at me?” he asked. “I haven’t done anything.” When she didn’t respond, he went on. “Come on now, open the door. I need to make sure you’re okay.”

  Mel was more humiliated than anything. She put down her window. “Look, I’m perfectly fine. I just want to be left alone.”

  “I’m not leaving you at the bottom of some damn ditch,” he stated flatly.

  Her humiliation quickly turned to annoyance. “Must you swear?”

  “Lady, you would drive a preacher to cussing,” he said. “You either come on out of there, or I’ll haul your fanny out personally.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Try me.”

  Mel nibbled her bottom lip as she regarded him. He looked like the Devil himself standing there, that coarse black beard hiding his face and making her wonder what lay beneath. “Why do you want me out so badly?” she asked.

  Kane sighed heavily. Three years of prison had made him forget what it was like dealing with the opposite sex. Had women always been this stubborn, or had he suddenly met up with the queen of pinheads? “We need to call a tow truck,” he said, mustering as much patience as he could.

  Mel knew he was right. She couldn’t leave her car at the bottom of the ravine forever, and the only way she was going to get it out was to have it towed. Unfortunately, she had left her cell phone beside the cash register. Still, she would have preferred going it alone. She had done nothing but make a fool of herself since Kane Stoddard hit town.

  Kane was growing more impatient than ever with her silence. It would serve her right if he left her sitting there, but he couldn’t. Whether she suspected it or not, her letters had given him a reason to climb from his cot in the morning in a place where death had been preferable. He decided it was time to try another approach. After all, she was a lady.

  Kane leaned closer to the window, propping his hands against the door, giving her a smile that had, in the past, charmed his share of females. Had he known there was this much trouble waiting in Hardeeville, he would have run as fast as he could in the opposite direction.