This time it was he who smiled. In a clear, British accent he asked, "Crud? That's all you have to say after scaring a
man half to death?"
Fiona
noticed his smile was not menacing. He
had straight, white teeth. Surely
someone with straight teeth was nice, right?
Why did she think that? He
certainly looked as if he could be dangerous.
He was unshaven and had a faded scar running beside his right eye. Fiona caught herself thinking that he was
quite attractive, then immediately felt guilty, as if she'd just been
unfaithful to Philip. His eyes seem to
be laughing at her. She couldn't make
herself feel afraid of this man who held a gun.
She didn't return his smile but calmly said, "I'm looking for my
sister. Have you seen a woman? Possibly in a wedding dress?"
His
smile remained but no longer reached his eyes as the stranger answered, "I
have. She's not here."
"You
have?! When? Was she okay?
Did she say anything?" Fiona
was surprised at her own mixture of relief and dread. She hadn't realized how concerned she truly
was for Brady's safety.
The man
held out his hand, the one without the gun, and said, "I'm Oliver."
Fiona
stared at his hand and then back at Oliver's face. She felt anger surge up within her. "I'm
not here to make your acquaintance! I'm
looking for my sister!" What was wrong with this guy? He's sitting in a dark corner of some shack
in the woods but wants to shake hands and make friends? Maybe she should in fact be very afraid of this man. Had he harmed her sister? Was he one of those psychos who killed women
and buried them in his backyard? In her exhausted
mind, she had the thought that British men weren't psychopaths. What was wrong with her? Straight teeth? British?
None of this made a difference; this man, whose muscles looked to be
lethal weapons enough, was holding a gun and looking at her as if she was the
very last person in the world he wanted to see.
And then he smiled again. Stupid
straight teeth.
What's wrong with me, Oliver
thought. This green-eyed witch had
barged in on him at a most dangerous moment and here he was, greeting her as if
he was hosting a party. Oliver lowered
his hand and said, "I'm sorry. Of
course. The American woman. Yes.
Well, she was here and now she isn't.
I don't know where she's gone."
Fiona
took a deep breath. Was he slow-witted
or was he being deliberately obtuse? She
couldn't explain the logic of it but she just knew he wasn't a killer. She knew she could trust him. And she didn't have time to analyze it right
now. "What shape was she in when
you saw her? When did you see her? Tell
me something!"
Oliver
noticed how the girl was shaking. Woman, he mentally corrected
himself. She wasn't the young girl he'd originally
thought when he'd first turned on the light.
She wasn't afraid. She was
fiercely angry. Well, that was nothing
to him. He'd just as soon she be on her
way so he could attend to the business he'd come here to do in the first place.
He
turned away from her and said, "She was here a few hours ago and she
seemed in perfect health. She asked to
stay here for awhile and I refused her.
She became angry and stomped away in the direction of the Hollow. That's all I know so I hope you too will kindly
be on your way."
Kindly be on my way? Fiona didn't think much could make her
angrier but those words sent her over the edge.
"HELP ME FIND MY SISTER, YOU IDIOT!
WHERE'S THE HOLLOW?! HOW DO I GET
THERE?" She raked her fingers through
her now unkempt hair. She wanted to pull
all of his hair out but forced herself to take a deep breath and calm down instead.
He
turned back to her and gave her a very confused look. "I do apologize. I hadn't realized you were actually concerned
for her. She seemed to be on some kind
of playful errand in a game of hide-and-seek and I simply thought you were her
finder. Is she on the run then? Wedding jitters and all that?"
"Yes,"
Fiona said forcefully. "Wedding
jitters and all that! Now where's this
Hollow?"
"Oh,
yes," he said. He reached around
her and opened the door again. His scent
lingered near her and she felt an unexplainable urge to touch him. To run her finger along that scar. She didn't, of course, and wondered where in the
world that impulse had even come from.
He gestured toward the open door and said, "I'll lead the way,
shall I?"
What
was he doing? Oliver Cast shouldn't care
one whit whether or not these two American sisters found each other. He certainly didn't have time to help
them. There was only one thing he wanted
to do today and that was to kill the man that had ruined his life. But, since he knew where the man was and had
nothing but time, he guessed it wouldn't hurt to at least see to it that these
two bothersome women were out of his way.
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