He gave her a strange look.
“Come on,” she chided. “It’s not that bad. Certainly not as tacky as Samson.” Her stomach rumbled, and she pressed a hand against it. “All right. Until you can think up something better, we’ll keep using Walker. Now, please find a place we can stop and eat, because if I don’t eat something soon, I’m going to start nibbling on you.”
He took the next exit and, after consulting with her on her preferences, parked outside a country diner. Lilah happily ordered an enormous breakfast and a pot of coffee, and vetoed Walker’s ridiculous request for a glass of water.
“You have to eat something,” she scolded him after telling the waitress to bring a duplicate of her order for him. “You didn’t touch that food Annie brought for us. In fact, you haven’t eaten a thing since you woke up.”
He glanced at an older couple dining at the next table, and looked away. “I am not hungry.”
“That’s from not eating. You’re so hungry it’s killed your appetite.” She reached across the table for his hand. “Just go slow. Like you’re pregnant.”
“I have been many things,” he told her, “but never that.”
“I mean, eat like a pregnant lady.” When his expression didn’t change, she peered at him. “You’ve never been around a pregnant woman?”
He shrugged. “Not since I was a boy.”
“Okay, here’s the crash course: Start with dry toast. Take small bites, chew it up well, and don’t drink until you know it’s doing to stay down.” She thought of poor Sadie, whose last pregnancy had upset her stomach so often she had practically lived on crackers and water. “Also, if you feel sick, stop eating and take deep, slow breaths until the feeling passes.”
Their meals arrived a few minutes later, and Lilah couldn’t help attacking the food. Breakfast was her favorite meal, and the diner’s cook had scrambled her eggs exactly the way she liked them.
She glanced over and saw Walker had taken her advice, and was testing a triangle of toast. At first he chewed as if his mouth were full of cardboard, and then swallowed with effort. He put down the toast and waited, his brow furrowed.
“Do you want some butter or jelly?” she asked gently. “That might make it taste better.”
“No.” He picked up the toast and tried another bite, and suddenly wolfed down the entire piece. His eyes shifted after he swallowed, and then he looked up, his expression filled with wonder. “This is good.”
“These little country places usually are.” She didn’t know why he was staring at his plate, as if he hadn’t seen food in years… . Of course, the last time he’d eaten had been in Afghanistan. “I guess you didn’t have anything like this over there, huh?”
“It has been a long time.” He picked up his fork and cautiously sampled everything on his plate. “What is this?” he asked her, pointing with his fork.
“Hash browns.”
He grinned at her. “I like hash browns.”
Walker went to work then, and ate so fast Lilah was convinced he’d be sick. He only cleared his plate, downing three cups of coffee in between bites, before gesturing for the waitress.
“I would like another,” he told her.
She took the pencil stub from behind her ear and held it over her check pad. “Another what, hon?”
“Another breakfast.” He gestured to his empty plate. “The same as the first. Please.”
“Coming right up.” The waitress removed his plate, ogled his chest briefly, sighed, and went back to the kitchen.
Lilah couldn’t believe it. “Just how long has it been since you had something to eat?”
“Seven … days,” he said, filling her coffee cup before pouring the last of the pot into his own. He noticed she had almost finished, and frowned. “I should have asked. Do you want another breakfast?”
She laughed. “No, I think one’s enough.”
Lilah’s breath fogged the Land Rover’s window as she watched Walker disappear into the motel’s tiny office. Above it, a cracked neon sign blinked: MOTHER ODE MOT L VACA CIES. Only two other cars occupied the guest parking lot, and none of the windows in the blocks of rooms on either side of the office were lit from within. Hopefully the shower was hot, the bed didn’t sag too much, and the door had a good dead bolt on it.Walker came back a few minutes later and climbed in to start the engine. “We have a room at the back of the building, but we should leave before dawn.”
“I was hoping we’d sleep in till at least noon,” she teased.
He smiled a little. “When we reach safety, I plan to keep you in bed for several weeks.”
Walker drove around the back, parking in reverse so that the rear of the Land Rover faced the building.
“The woman may have reported her car stolen,” he explained. “This way, a patrol car cannot see the license plate.”
Lilah still felt guilty for stealing Lori’s car and using her money stash for the motel room, but they’d had no choice, and she felt sure Ethan Jemmet would look after her. “We’ll park it somewhere they can find it easily when we go to meet Samuel tomorrow.”
Walker looked around carefully before leading her into the room. A single full-size bed covered with a burnt orange chenille spread occupied most of the small space, which smelled of lemon-scented disinfectant and carpet cleaner. The dark blue commercial carpet had been recently cleaned, and still looked damp in the corners. Under the front windows, the room’s heating unit rattled faintly as it tried and failed to heat the cold air they’d let in. The bathroom proved to be little more than a sad, closet-size study in distressed tile and cracked porcelain.
Still, Lilah thought, it was better than trying to sleep in the car.
“I wish I had some clean clothes,” she said as she sat down on the edge of the bed and turned on the television. “Do you want to use the shower first?”
“Wait.” Walker went out and brought back a suitcase, placing it on the bed beside her. “This was in the backseat.” He popped the locks and opened it.
Lilah reached for a neatly folded swatch of black lace lying on the top of the clothes inside, which turned out to be a scanty lace and silk camisole. “I like her taste in underwear.”
Walker plucked a matching thong from a side pocket. “So do I.”
“Sure, because you don’t have to wear it. Men never realize how uncomfortable this stuff is.” She took the thong from him and stretched it out. “Yes, I might be able to fit this around my big toe.” She tossed it aside and searched through the rest of the clothes. “Look at this stuff. She dresses like a preppy princess on the outside and a Playboy Bunny underneath.” She shook out a bra made of satin straps with flower-shaped openings in the center of each cup, and found a matching pair of crotchless panties. “Or maybe a working girl.”
“Perhaps that is how she knows the sheriff. He arrested her.” Walker took the racy lingerie from her and set it aside. “You do not need this. I would rather sleep with you naked.”
She lifted her brows. “Oh, really? Are you going to keep me warm?” She laughed as he pounced on her, pinning her on her back. “Okay, I see you are.”
He brushed the hair back from her face, and his expression sobered. “I would do anything for you. I would die for you.”
Chapter 20
A bruptly he rolled away and flung an arm over his face. “I should not have said that.”
He was still struggling with how he felt, and fighting some inner demon she didn’t understand. She had to let him know that she wasn’t afraid of that or him.
She turned on her side and propped her head on her hand. “You know, my mother never married. She was attractive and intelligent and very wealthy, and could have had almost anyone she wanted. But she didn’t believe in love; she said it was a fairy tale men told women so they could get in bed with them.”
He made a low sound. “Sometimes it is.”
“She made me go to an all-girls school and she wouldn’t let me date or go to parties or do anything where I might meet some boys.” The old resentment, which had burned in her for years, seemed tired and rather pathetic now. “When I got my period, she sent one of the servants to explain what was happening to me because she thought it was vulgar and disgusting. I thought she was cold because of the way she was brought up, or maybe from having her heart broken, but now I know it was because she never really loved anyone. Not her parents, not me, not even herself.”
He dropped his arm and turned his head to look at her. “Perhaps she was too afraid.”
“I don’t know. She never told me.” Lilah plucked at the burnt orange fuzz of the bedspread. “We never talked very much at all. She made me feel as if I were her possession. Sometimes I thought she took me in only because I made her look good, like a new purse, or a pretty pair of shoes. But now I think I know the real reason she adopted me. She refused to love me or anyone else, but she didn’t want to die alone. And in the end, that’s exactly what happened to her.”
He reached out to touch her face. “It is not your fault, Lilah.”
“I know that, but it still hurts. It always will, because no matter how she felt about me, I loved her.” She rubbed her cheek against his palm. “It’s not a fairy tale, Walker. It doesn’t always end in happily ever after. Sometimes we love people who can’t love us back. It doesn’t make it wrong. Neither does being afraid of getting hurt.” She put her hand on his chest, and drew a spiral with her finger over his heart. “The only tragedy is when we shut down our hearts for good. If my mother taught me anything, it’s that a life devoid of love is simply not worth living.”
He sat up, turning his back to her. “Do you believe that I am like your mother?”
“No,” she said simply. “But you do.”