Then, with a sickening thud, she crashed into something as hard and ungiving as a steel pole, and it knocked the sense right out of her.
Cam's first thought from flat on his back, with Haley stretched out over him, was Ouch! But he tightened his grip on her as she began to struggle, wincing when he got a knee uncomfortably close to his groin. "Lie still a minute, Haley."
She reared back, her eyes wide, her face so pale it looked translucent. "Cameron? Oh, God, he's right behind me."
Cam managed to pull his wits together after the bone-shaking collision to look over Haley's shoulder, but both the walkway and the parking lot were empty. He held her arms. "Who?"
Haley glanced around, but when she saw no one, she sagged over him. "He's gone. Again." Then she threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest.
Concerned, he sat up, cradling her in his lap right there on the sidewalk. "Haley?" He pushed the hair from her face, but she only shook her head and burrowed tighter against him. Her arms, still clamped around his neck, trembled, and his alarm grew. "What happened?"
She shivered.
He looked around them, prepared for anything. An older woman got out of a station wagon, went into the dry cleaners. A teenager came out of the grocery store. Somewhere, a truck started and rumbled away.
Nothing out of the ordinary. "Haley?" He stroked her chilled arms. "Who's gone?" She just held him, so he sighed and pulled her closer. "I'm here now," he whispered in her ear, soothing her as best he could. If anyone thought it strange to see a man and a woman embracing on the sidewalk, no one said a word. "Come on," he said after a minute. "Let's get you back to the truck."
"I'm okay." Her voice, muffled against his shirt, sounded embarrassed. But she pushed out of his arms, sniffled once, and avoided his gaze.
He knelt before her. "Haley, can you tell me-" He stopped abruptly as she went even paler, and her pupils shrank into twin pinpoints of shock. Swearing, he pushed her head between her knees. "Take a deep breath," he demanded, sick with worry. "There you go. No, damn it, don't try to get up yet. You'll faint. Come on now, another one. That's the way, darlin', do it again."
When she'd done as he said, and when her color looked slightly better, he yanked her back into his arms. Too skinny, he thought, rocking her slowly. Too damn skinny. He hadn't seen her eat enough to sustain a bird, and he cursed himself now, noticing how light and fragile she felt in his arms.
"Haley, tell me what frightened you."
After a hesitation, she shook her head. "Nothing. I'm sorry. It was nothing."
The slow anger he'd kept buried for years surfaced. Another liar, his brain screamed. But this fabrication wasn't over an outrageous credit-card bill. Or whom she'd lunched with. No, this was much more serious. Cupping the back of Haley's head, Cam looked into her eyes. They darted nervously from his. The rage built, but strangely enough, not at her. Someone had indeed frightened her, and he didn't like it. "Haley-"
"Please," she begged softly. "Let it go."
Memories assaulted him, of another woman. Dammit. He wouldn't push yet another to trust him. He wouldn't. "No. I won't let it go."
"I'm fine," she repeated. "Really."
"Right." Cam stood, and just managed not to groan at his aches and pain from having been slammed to the concrete. He reached down and, despite her protests, scooped her up, then marched to the truck.
"I can walk!"
She might not weigh enough, but she did feel good against his chest. "Humor me."
Huffing a little, she settled against him. "This isn't a movie, Cameron. You're not some cowboy hero."
Without a word, he settled her in his truck, removing his hands from her with some reluctance, which only annoyed him all the more. "When was the last time you ate?"
She looked away, a habit that was quickly becoming irritating. "Haley, dammit."
She scowled. "I don't know. Yesterday. I think."
He swore ripely, the temper he rarely acknowledged simmering a slow burn. "You little fool." He slammed her door, then leaned down to look at her through the open window. "I'm going to the bakery to get you something to eat. Don't move."
"No! Not in there," she said quickly.
"Why not?" He glanced back over his shoulder, saw nothing. But when he looked at her again, she'd collected herself, even if she was as pale as a ghost. At this point, he refused to speculate, just reacted with the fear she'd instilled in him. "One more time. What in the hell's going on?"
"Nothing."
He took a deep breath. Resting his elbows against the door, he gave her a long look. "Haley, darlin', you were running like hell when I found you."
Again, she looked away. He brought her face back, keeping his voice low with difficulty. "You jumped me."
Still no answer.
"Oh, I know," he said conversationally, his eyes sharp on her, waiting for a reaction. "You missed me." He watched the emotions war within her; the humiliation of having misled him to think she missed him, against her need to keep her reasons to herself.
"Yes, I missed you," she eventually agreed, the words coming from between clenched teeth. "Hope I didn't hurt you in my excitement."
She still didn't trust him enough to let him help her, and that got to him good. Her pallor hadn't changed. The realization that she was convinced whoever she'd run from would, and could, come get her, sobered him. The urge to protect was amazingly strong, made all the more difficult for him because he was still furious with her. Changing his mind about the bakery, he straightened, walked around to get back into his truck.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"We're going to a drive-through." He thrust the truck in gear. "And while we're doing it, you can explain things to me."
He quickly pulled into the first fast-food place he came to and ordered just about everything on the menu. Then he looked at her, only to find her staring at him as if he'd lost his mind. "What? Did I forget something?"
"You ordered enough food for ten people."
Nerves, he wanted to tell her. And he hadn't felt them in a good long time.
"Why did you come back so soon?"
"I missed you, too, darlin'." Pulling forward, he paid the lady in the bird hat at window two and took the food.
"You couldn't have gotten your lumber so soon."
"Observant as well as intelligent," he murmured, feeling a little nasty and more than willing to take it out on her. "Eat."
She pulled out a chicken sandwich and took a token bite. Then she shoved that aside, searching through the bag past the salad, past the bread, past the corn on the cob. With a faint smile, she took out the french fries and dug in with gusto.
Cam watched in amazement. "That's the least healthy thing in there."
"I know." She ate another. And another. Then poured catsup all over them and dug in again. Her color came back.
"Eat the other stuff," he protested. "Something good for you."
"I like this," she said stubbornly. "Now tell me why you really came back."
She was stalling, but at least she didn't have that trapped-doe look in her eyes anymore. "I realized that I hadn't given you any money-"
She tensed, then wiped her fingers and shoved the food away. "I don't need your money."
The woman had enough pride to fill his gas tank. "You can't be done eating already." Her scowl deepened and he realized something horrifying-he was nagging again, just like his mother would have. "I just wanted to give you what I owed you for the work you've done."
"I never did get to the store," she said softly.
He pulled back into the lot of the minimall and turned off the engine. "Eat first, while it's hot."
When she had, he came around for her and took her hand as she alighted. He tugged gently until she looked at him. "We're going to talk, Haley. When you're done in here."
"I don't feel much like talking."
"Tough." He nodded toward the store, struggling to rein in all he was feeling. "Let's go."
"You can wait here."
"No way," he said, rubbing his sore and bruised backside. "I can't take another tackle to the pavement."
Heat flooded her face. "I don't need a guard."
He stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. "Something scared you here, you can't deny that." He put a finger to her lips when she would have done just that. "Maybe I forgot to tell you I really dislike being lied to. And I'm not leaving you alone, so forget it."
She sighed and entered the automated doors, not looking to see if he followed.
Since it seemed to be so important to her, he pretended not to notice what she threw into the shopping cart, knowing by the lovely shade of pink on her cheeks that she was embarrassed. Halfway down one aisle, he caught her giving the lipsticks a longing glance.
She protested when he stopped. "Come on, I'm done," she said, trying to tug him along.
"Hmm." He touched a fire-engine-red lipstick. "Nice color."
She rolled her eyes.
"Much as I'd love to see this on you, I don't want to have to fight off Zach."
"Don't," she mumbled, still trying to pull him away. "Just forget it."
But he was locked on the image of her in the red lipstick, with matching fingernails and toenails to boot. He caught her horrified gaze and laughed. "Okay, maybe not. But this would be pretty." He held out a light rose-colored gloss. "And I bet it tastes good, too."
At his suggestive leer, she let out a little laugh, making him realize she didn't make that pretty sound nearly often enough.
"Fine." She capitulated, grabbing it from him and tossing it in the cart. "But don't think you're ever going to taste it."
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