A Year of You Read Free Page B

woman who claimed to be Elaine raised an eyebrow at his beat-up thirty-year-old Ford truck. She wasn’t very tall—height was a trademark trait in the McKendrick family—and she had abundant curves that made him wonder what she’d feel like pressed tight against him. Those breasts, hips.... He banished the thought, seeking a mental image of his Emeline. Willowy, super-model beautiful, Emeline.
    There were a few things about this Mattie that were vaguely familiar. The tilt of her wide blue-gray eyes, the way she crinkled her brow in her sleep. He’d spent most of the flight staring at her, trying to find any resemblance. There was something in her laugh that sounded vaguely like Emeline.
    McKendrick had sent him to Atlanta to watch this newcomer. McKendrick had killer instincts. West had long ago learned not to doubt his judgment calls. If McKendrick thought something was up, then something was up.
    He put his suitcase and her grungy duffel bag into the bed of the truck.
“It’ll fall out!” the woman exclaimed, pointing at the gaping hole.
“Nah.” He reached down and tugged the sheet of plywood back over the hole. He used a big chunk of concrete and a bag of potting soil as an anchor. “See?”

    The woman laughed and made a helpless gesture with her hands. “If you say so.” She reached for the passenger door.
She pulled  hard and glanced up. “Is it locked?”
    “Nah, there’s a trick.” He gripped it, put his foot up on the side of the truck and leaned back hard.
    The door opened with a loud, rusty clunk .
“You need a new truck,” she commented as she climbed upside, slightly disconcerted by the lack of a running board to use as a step.

    West patted the faded, bubbling blue paint on the truck bed. “This one was my dad’s. He died a few years back. Can’t bring myself to get rid of it. You have to give that seatbelt a great big yank. It sticks.”

    She did and the whole thing popped out of the metal wall and smacked into her temple. She yelped and clasped her hand to the side of her head, still hanging on to the seatbelt.

    “Oh, crap, are you all right? Let me see?”
West leaned over and tried to pull her hand away from her head.
    “I’m fine; it just startled me.” She moved her hand. “I’m all right, really.”

    He bit back his chuckle, but he couldn’t hide his grin. “The A/C doesn’t work.”

    “Can’t say I’m surprised,” she quipped, pulling her shoulder-length, dark blonde hair into a ponytail. Nothing like the Mckendrick’s, so far. Every single one of them were white-blonde.
    Her eyes, though. They were hauntingly familiar. Emeline’s eyes were nearly the same color, beneath her baby-blue contact lenses. Maybe the shape of her lips echoed Karen’s as well.
    He rolled his window down. “That one doesn’t work.”
    She raised an eyebrow. “How’d I guess?”
    He navigated the horrendous parking lots and pulled out on to a busy highway. To her left was a huge structure she recognized as the Daytona Speedway.
    “Ever been to the races?” he asked, hoping to get her to start talking. He didn’t know much about her story, other than she didn’t remember much before her sixth birthday. She’d grown up in Atlanta.
    “Me? No. Not my thing. But it’s big up in Atlanta. Everybody’s a NASCAR fan. I don’t care too much for it.” She reached up and fiddled with her necklace. It was a tiny silver baby pacifier with a sparkly pink crystal nipple.
    “NASCAR too good for you?” he joked. She rolled her eyes. “All right then, what do you care for?”
    She thought about it for a moment. “Music, books, reading, movies. Nothing real exciting.”
    “Sports?”
    “What’re those?” she said with a smile. West drove over the Seabreeze Bridge. Mattie craned her neck, trying to see out the window to see down at the river. “Wow. It’s beautiful.”
    “The Halifax River. When we were kids, my dad would take us out on his boat.”

    “We?”