Chill Factor Read Free

before, Dutch.
We're not
the same people as when we met. Don't you realize that? No one can
change what happened. But it changed us."
    He seized on that. "You're right. People change. I've changed
since
the divorce. Moving up here. Taking this job. It's all been good for
me, Lilly. I realize that Cleary is a far cry from Atlanta, but I've
got something to build on here. A solid foundation. It's my home, and
the people here know me and all my kinfolk. They like me. Respect me."
    "That's wonderful, Dutch. I want you to succeed here. I wish
that
for you with all my heart."
    She did indeed want him to succeed, not only for his sake but
for
hers. Until Dutch had reaffirmed himself as a good cop, especially in
his own mind, she would never be entirely free of him. He would remain
dependent on her for his self-esteem until he was once again confident
about his work and himself. The small community of
Cleary afforded him that opportunity. She hoped to God it worked out
well.
    "My career, my life," he said in a rush, "have been given
fresh
starts. But that won't mean anything if you're not part of it."
    Before she could stop him, he put his arms around her and
pulled her
tightly against him. He spoke urgently, directly into her ear. "Say
you'll give us another chance." He tried to kiss her, but she turned
her head aside.
    "Dutch, let go of me."
    "Remember how good we used to be together? If you'd ever let
down
your guard, we'd be right back where we started. We could forget all
the bad stuff and return to the way we were. We couldn't keep our hands
off each other, remember?" He tried again to kiss her, this time
grinding his lips insistently against hers.
    "Stop it!" She pushed him away.
    He fell back a step. His breathing was loud in the room. "You
still
won't let me touch you."
    - She crossed her arms over her middle, hugging herself.
"You're not
my husband anymore."
    "You'll never forgive me, will you?" he shouted angrily. "You
used
what happened with Amy as an excuse to divorce me, but that's not what
it was about at all, was it?"
    "Go, Dutch. Leave before—"
    "Before I lose control?" He sneered.
    "Before you disgrace yourself."
    She held her ground against his mean glare. Then, turning away
quickly, he stamped from the room. He grabbed the envelope on the
coffee table and snatched his coat and hat off the pegs near the door.
Without taking time to put them on, he slammed the door behind himself
hard enough to rattle the windowpanes. Seconds later she heard his
Bronco's engine start and the scattering of gravel beneath its oversize
tires as he peeled away.
    She sank onto the edge of the bed, covering her face with her
hands.
They were cold and trembling. Now that it was over, she realized that
she'd been not only angry and repulsed but afraid.
    This Dutch with the hair-trigger temper was not the disarming
man
she had married. Despite his claims to have made a fresh start, he
looked desperate. That desperation translated into frightening,
mercurial mood shifts.
    She was almost ashamed of the relief that washed over her from
knowing that she never had to see him again. It was finally over. Dutch
Burton was out of her life.
    Exhausted by the encounter, she lay back on the bed and placed
her
forearm across her eyes.

    She was awakened by the sound of sleet pellets striking the
tin roof.
    Go-rounds with Dutch always had left her exhausted. The tense
encounters they'd had during the past week, while she was in Cleary to
finalize the sale of the cabin, must have taken more of a toll on her
than even she had realized. After this last one, her body had kindly
shut down her mind for a while and allowed her to sleep.
    She sat up, rubbing her arms against the chill. The cabin
bedroom
had grown dark, too dark for her even to read her wristwatch. She got
up, went to the window, and pulled back the edge of the drapery. It let
in very little light but enough for her to see her watch.
    The time surprised her. She'd slept deeply and