Chapter Five #3
She nodded and sat opposite him. Both hands surrounded the hot mug, burning the sensitive area of her palms. Lesley almost
welcomed the pain. Her gaze was centered on the steaming liquid.
“Can you trust me a little longer? Then I’ll explain everything.”
“And if I can’t?”
His hand reached for hers, squeezing it. “I don’t know, but I know you, Lesley, and I’m asking you to trust me for just a
little while longer.”
“Why should I trust you? Give me one good reason,” she demanded.
“There isn’t one. I know what you must be thinking.”
“You couldn’t possibly know.”
“I didn’t want to bring you into any of this.”
“Into any of what?” she cried.
She saw that Cole was quickly losing the fragile grip on his patience. His jaw clenched and he expelled a long, impatient
breath. “I knew the minute I saw you we were headed for trouble.”
Lesley had known it, too.
“When I saw that you were the girl who lived next door, I should have packed my bags and left town. You’re far too lovely
for my level of concentration. And then when you dressed up for the Halloween party I knew there was no help for me. I might
as well—”
“Don’t talk to me like that, Cole.” Pain seared her heart. She couldn’t look at him. The thought that she was only another conquest was more than she could bear. Purposely, she lowered her gaze, but not before she noted the bewildered look in his eyes.
“Talk to you like what?” His voice was devoid of emotion.
It hurt to speak, the tightness in her throat was almost strangling. “I’m not like your other women. I don’t want to hear
meaningless phrases of love and devotion. Because I don’t believe you. I can’t. Not when everything you’ve done has been a
lie.”
She noticed how his hand gripped the mug. “I’ve never lied to you.”
Lesley released a bitter laughing sigh. “You just did. I heard the man say that someone was after you. Jennings, I think his
name was.” She flipped her hand over in a gesture of helplessness. “I heard him say you were in danger, and yet when I asked,
you denied it.”
“I’m perfectly safe here,” he answered forcefully. “No one knows where I am. Do you think I’d place you in a situation that
could cause you harm? Do you honestly think that of me?” The lack of emotion in his voice made his words all the more profound.
“What kind of man do you think I am?”
“I don’t know what my opinion of you is anymore,” she replied with taunting disdain.
An ominous silence followed. “Then there’s nothing more I can say, is there?”
“No, I don’t think there is.”
Lesley remained sitting when Cole stood, his chair scraping against the linoleum floor. The front door closed softly, but
the sound of it echoed across the room in ear-shattering decibels.
Love thy neighbor, love thy neighbor, love thy neighbor . . . A hundred times during the night the words were repeated in her thoughts.
Sleep eluded her. Never had she been more conscious of the man next door. Only a thin layer of wall separated them, and yet
Lesley felt as if they lived on different planets. How could she believe him when he said the words she longed to hear? Everything
about Daniel Cole Engstrom was a lie.
About two o’clock Lesley gave up the effort and crawled out of bed. Her Bible sat on the living room end table, and she curled
up on the davenport reading through Psalms. Gradually her lashes began to flutter downward and she slept. Her night was spent
on the sofa without a pillow.
The crick in her neck was painful when Lesley rose the next morning. Rotating her head seemed to ease the tension somewhat,
but not enough for her to avoid favoring it. She dressed more casually than usual, in wool pants and a matching jacket.
The driveway was cleared for her car, and Lesley realized that Cole must have been up early to shovel it for her. The kindness
made her love for him all the more potent.
Lesley was halfway to the car when she noticed that Cole was still at work, clearing the area around the mailbox. He turned
just as she opened her car door. One dark brow quirked mockingly in her direction.
“Lesley,” he began quietly, a serious note running through his tone. He stopped, but Lesley was sure he had wanted to say
something more. A veiled look came over his face. “Have a good day.”
“Thank you,” she returned stiffly. “I will.”
She didn’t, of course. With so much of Cole dominating her thoughts and time, she made one mistake after another, until the
bank manager gave her a peculiar look.
“Are you feeling all right, Lesley?” Ben Fullbright came up to her desk. His look was sincere.
“I may have a touch of the flu,” Lesley returned with the hint of a smile.
“Do you feel you’d like to take the rest of the day off?” her employer inquired further.
“No, I’m fine. Thanks.” Her hand tightened around the pencil until she was sure it would snap.
“Just say if you feel worse later.”
“Thanks.” She released a slow, impatient sigh. “I will.”
About noon, her nerves stretched taut, Lesley couldn’t stand it any longer. She couldn’t work.
There wasn’t a time in her life she’d felt more tired. Her neck ached and she wanted to go home.
Cole stepped out of his apartment the minute she pulled into the driveway. “Are you all right?”
“No.”
He appeared to study the troubled, confused light in her eyes, his own look darkening. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” she cried. “I can’t even work. Nothing’s right! I need answers, and I need them now.”
“Lesley.” He breathed in deeply as if to control his rising temper. “Trust me, for just a little while longer. Then I’ll explain
everything.”
A protesting sob rose quickly to her throat and she shook her head. “I can’t. I just can’t.”
The phone inside her apartment was ringing and Lesley pivoted sharply.
“Honey, please.”
The endearment rolled off his tongue as if he’d said it a hundred times to a hundred different women.
Ignoring him, Lesley squared her shoulders and walked inside her apartment.
“Hello.” Her voice was breathless as she spoke into the receiver.
“This is the library,” the efficient voice returned. “The bank said I could contact you at this number.”
“Yes?” Her heart was pounding at double time.
“We have the information you requested.”