Conard County Marine. Rachel Lee

briefly as someone she had dated. Somehow, however, when she closed the door behind him, the ants began to crawl along her nerves again. God, she had to stop feeling as if threats hovered in every moment of the day. She’d never be able to do anything with her life if she became a hermit terrified of other human beings.

      She didn’t offer him coffee or tea because she hoped he wouldn’t stay long, and she tried to remind herself that she’d just been wishing she weren’t alone. Now she wasn’t alone.

      “I read the papers,” he said as he perched on the edge of the couch. “Maybe it’s dumb to mention it, but I just want you to know how happy I am that you’re okay. Except...you can’t remember? That’s a good thing, right?”

      She’d already heard that more times than she wanted to count. Not being able to remember the attack was a blessing. Losing three years of her life fell into an entirely different category. She cleared her throat, not wanting to delve into this. “I’m glad I don’t remember the attack.” Leave it alone, Todd. Please leave it alone.

      “I’m sure you are.” He frowned faintly. “I’m sorry, I just don’t know what people are supposed to say. Never did this before.”

      “Me, either.”

      Then his smile returned, the smile that had once, all too briefly, attracted her. “I guess we’re all going to be ham-handed for a while. So are you glad to be home? Or is life around here too boring now?”

      “How would I know?”

      Kylie looked down, realizing she had just rudely ended the conversation. Worse, she didn’t even feel like apologizing for it. What was wrong with her?

      But before she could figure out how to ease her blunt question, she heard the side door in the kitchen open. Fear slammed her yet again.

      * * *

      Feeling like an extra wheel, Coop had left the ladies to eat their dinner, saying he needed a stroll before dining himself. Walking the streets of Conard City was slowly becoming a pleasure for him. No need to wonder what was around every corner or behind every building. Just nice people, when he ran into them, who smiled and gave him a friendly nod. A lot of them seemed to know he was Connie’s cousin, which he suspected eased his way. At least he didn’t get regarded with suspicion.

      He toyed with the idea of moving to the motel, to give Kylie space, then cast it aside. Glenda had generously offered him a place to stay while he visited, and he didn’t want to offend her in some way.

      As for his cousin and her brood...every time he thought of those three high-energy kids—two of their own and a daughter who was older, from Connie’s previous marriage—he had to grin. They were a handful of boundless energy, especially the two youngest. Connie and Ethan both worked, and by the time the evening was drawing to a close, whichever of them was around for the bedtime chores had started to look exhausted.

      He tried to help, but Ethan was right: his presence seemed to excite the youngsters more. He hoped that would pass as they got used to having him around or Connie was apt to beg him never to visit again.

      He suddenly realized that light had almost faded from the day and he switched course to head back to the house. Glenda would be at work, and Kylie would be alone. While he wasn’t sure Kylie really wanted him around, Glenda had mentioned that she’d feel better if Kylie weren’t left in solitude, at least for a while.

      Coop understood. Regardless of her inability to remember, Kylie had lost her basic sense of safety. The unimaginable had happened to her. Being alone, even in a familiar house, might be difficult for a while.

      So he’d play it by ear. If she wanted him to disappear, he’d go up to his room. She’d still know someone was in the house if something frightened her.

      Glenda’s car was gone when he got back to the house, but a different one was parked out front. An old friend? Nevertheless, he sped up his pace, just in case Kylie was nervous.

      When he got to the house, he let himself in the side door and heard voices coming from the living room. A man’s voice. Kylie’s rarer and quieter. He made no secret of his approach. A big man, he could be stealthy or noisy as the situation demanded. Right now he chose noisy.

      Two lamps had been turned on in the living room. Kylie sat nearly huddled in an armchair, facing a handsome man of about her age, maybe late twenties, who sat on the couch with legs splayed and his elbows resting on his knees. Leaning toward her. In an instant Coop gathered that Kylie was subtly leaning away as best she could. Body language spoke volumes.

      “Am I interrupting?” Coop asked.

      “No...no...” Kylie said tautly. “Come in.”

      The man on the couch stood immediately, smiling broadly. “Todd Jamison. Kylie and I grew up together. Just thought I’d see how she was doing.”

      Todd offered his hand and Coop returned the smile as he shook it. “Evan Cooper, just call me Coop.” But even as he made the pleasant greeting, he was also ticking off a catalog. The guy was a little over average height, fit and looking like he could have stepped off the cover of GQ, rancher’s edition. Jeans, a white shirt, all neatly pressed, and boots that had been highly polished. Brown hair artfully tousled. A fashion plate.

      But then Coop met his dark gaze, and felt the back of his neck prickle. He’d seen eyes like that before, the emptiness of men who’d seen too much on a battlefield. “You military?” he asked casually.

      “Never had the honor,” Todd answered easily. “No, I’m a financial adviser. I work from home here but have to travel a lot. I just got back in town and wanted to check on Kylie.”

      “I’m fine,” Kylie said, the slightest edge in her voice.

      It struck Coop as a dismissal, but not Todd apparently. Instincts were kicking in, and although Coop already had the lay of the land, he scanned the room quickly again. Cabbage-rose couch from a past era, the armchair in which Kylie sat, reasonably new, a recliner that was old enough it creaked when it was extended, a glass-fronted bookcase, a flat-screen TV...nothing out of place. He was probably overreacting, which wouldn’t surprise him given the last few years of his life, but then his gaze settled on Kylie again, the way she seemed to have shrunk. Todd might be an old friend, but she wasn’t welcoming him with much warmth.

      Wondering if he should try to do something about what was clearly an uncomfortable situation for Kylie, his thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of the front doorbell. He looked at Kylie. “Want me to get it?”

      “Why not?” She didn’t exactly sound happy about it.

      Shrugging inwardly, he went to open the door, wondering if maybe all Kylie had wanted tonight was to be by herself. Maybe Glenda worried too much about her being alone.

      He opened the door and a strawberry blonde breezed through. Two steps in, she froze and scanned him head to foot. “My, my,” she said, “you must be Coop. I’m Ashley. Ashley Granger. Kylie knows me from way back.”

      Before Coop could do anything but close the door behind her, Ashley had stepped into the living room, and he was relieved to hear genuine pleasure in Kylie’s voice as she said, “Ashley!”

      “It’s been too long, girl,” Ashley answered.

      A moment later he rounded the door frame to see the women hugging. Todd stood to one side, smiling faintly.

      A regular convocation. Suddenly feeling like an intruder, Coop decided to go make some coffee. It’d give these three old friends some time together.

      But just as he was turning away, he heard Ashley address Todd, and her tone caused him to hesitate.

      “I’m surprised to see you, Todd. You avoided Kylie for a long time after she turned you down for the prom.”

      Todd laughed easily. “Sheesh, Ashley, that was a long time in the past. I got over it ages ago. Of course I wanted to make sure Kylie is okay.”

      “Me, too,”