“That would be good,” she agreed.
“And I think it’ll be easier if…”
When he paused, she drew back to look at him. His body language and tone of voice suggested he was gearing up to say something profound.
“If we get married,” he finished.
Her jaw dropped as he pulled a velvet box from his pocket. “You’re proposing?”
He flipped open the lid to reveal a shiny solitaire set in white gold. “Will you marry me, Karen?”
Stunned, she reached for the box. “You’re serious….”
“I’ve never been more serious. I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for twelve years. It’s time I made you my wife.”
Even with that note hidden in her underwear drawer, she wanted to say yes. Maybe she felt such eagerness because of the note. Marriage would bind them together, make it more difficult for John to leave her. But she’d risk having her husband come home to one of those notes on the doorstep. She couldn’t let that happen.
“What do you say?” he prompted, his eyes dancing with excitement as she stared at the ring.
Her chest had grown so tight she could hardly breathe. Two weeks ago, she would’ve been thrilled. But that was before the past had snuck up on her.
“Aren’t we moving a little too fast?” she asked, stalling so she’d have time to think it through.
He chuckled and cupped the velvet box in her hand, smiling as he gazed down at it. “Are you kidding? We dated for four months twelve years ago. We corresponded for a long time while you were gone and we’ve been together for six months since you came back. How long should it take to know we’re in love?”
“But—” She was reeling, caught between hope and fear. “We haven’t even talked about marriage before.”
“We’re talking about it now. It has to start somewhere. Are you going to try it on?”
She took the ring from its padded box and slipped it on her finger.
“How does it fit?”
“Perfect.” The weight of it felt so satisfying, so right.
“Do you like it?”
“I love it.” It was the very ring she’d admired in a jewelry store window when they’d gone to Kentucky. How thoughtful of him to go back for it. “So…where will we live?”
“In my house, of course. You’re only renting.”
But he had his twenty-five-year-old son living in the backyard. Karen didn’t think she could tolerate having Robert so close. Still, they’d just agreed not to talk about Robert. Or Cain. And she didn’t want to ruin this moment. “When would we do it?” she asked.
“I’ve always thought Christmas would be nice for a wedding.”
Christmas. That gave her a fairly long engagement. Surely within six months she’d have figured out something. Maybe whoever was leaving her the notes would get distracted and move on with his or her life, or make a conscious decision to let it go. Bringing up that…incident served no good purpose and stood to hurt other people besides her. “Okay, Christmas,” she breathed.
He tilted up her chin. “That’s a yes?”
“That’s a yes,” she said with more conviction. But she knew a lot had to happen before then. If she couldn’t find out who was tormenting her, she’d have to tell John what she’d done. Otherwise, this person might tell him for her, and that would be much, much worse. I’ll expose you. Just watch me.
Imagining her confession made Karen’s heart pound with fear. John could surprise her and be forgiving. At times he was so kind, so generous. In this situation, however, it was far more likely that the truth would always stand between them, even if they tried to go on. And if John was ever vindictive enough to take what she confided in him to the police, her life would be ruined.
Could she trust him that much?
She believed she could—if her indiscretion had involved anyone but Cain.
Cain had spent most of the past two days in the woods with his dogs, searching for evidence. And he’d discovered a footprint that matched the ones by the creek the night Sheridan had been attacked. Ned had come out to make a plaster cast of what looked to be a size ten tennis shoe, worn down along the outside heel.
He stayed so busy in the daylight hours that he had little time to miss Sheridan. The nights were long, however, and the house felt empty without her.
But that was just because he was worried about her, he told himself. Robert had confirmed that she was once again staying in the house where she’d been attacked.
He turned up the TV and flipped to a new station. She’ll be fine. Her friend Skye had a gun and obviously knew how to use it. But it would be far too easy for Sheridan’s stalker to shoot her through a window before anyone saw it coming. There was so much activity in the crowded neighborhood; how would anyone know when someone didn’t belong? Would Skye really be able to protect her?
Cain had asked Ned to have someone patrol the area, and Ned had acted as if he’d already planned on it. He wanted to find Amy’s killer, and he believed Amy’s killer was also the man who’d hurt Sheridan, so Cain knew he’d follow through. But having someone cruise down the street was no guarantee of her safety.
Tossing the remote aside, he got up from the couch and paced for several minutes. The more he thought about how vulnerable Sheridan was, the more worried he became that it’d been a mistake to let her leave with Skye.
Of course, he hadn’t had any choice in the matter. It wasn’t as if he could restrain her.
When the phone rang, he grabbed it, hoping to hear her voice. She hadn’t called since she left, which bothered him as much as everything else.
“Hello?”
“It’s your fault she’s dead.”
Tiger. His words were slurred. He was drinking again.
“I didn’t ask Amy to come up here, Tiger.”
“You didn’t have to,” he said and hung up.
With a curse, Cain put down the receiver. Emotions were running high in Whiterock. Ned and Tiger were both pointing a finger at him for Amy’s death, but she’d come out to his place on her own, many times according to his neighbor. And the night of the shooting, she hadn’t gone to the house, the way he’d told her to, but in the opposite direction. Not only that, he’d begged her, for years, to forget him. How much more could a man do to get out of a romantic entanglement?
Nothing. He’d never given her false hope or made promises he didn’t keep. Even in high school, when they’d been sexually involved, she’d known his heart wasn’t in it.