Light the Hidden Things Read Free Page B

out.”
    Her smile was wry as she turned away, but her shoulders were back.
    Lila started down the porch stairs just in time to see headlights swing off the road. She recognized Van’s sleek sports car. It stopped between her and the defunct gas pump island.
    Charles Vanderkirk unfolded from behind the wheel. In the glare at the front of the car, he loomed. Considerably over six feet tall and hugely broad-shouldered. The picture wasn’t lost on Lila. She reminded herself to keep her voice firm. Definitely noncommittal. “Evening, Van. What brings you out this way this late?”
    He came closer. He had good features and a generous smile. “The construction business doesn’t have working hours, just deadlines,” he said. “I’m trying to make a deal with old man Tolbert for that property down the lake. Thought I’d stop and say hello. Did I catch you at a bad time?”
    “No, I’m just on my way to town.”
    He bantered with her. “Town? You? What’s the occasion?”
    “No occasion. I don’t feel like cooking, that’s all.”
    “Too bad. You’re good at it. I wish you’d do more of it for me.”
    “Thanks. Part of the image. You know, cook, sweep, have babies - the regular.”
    “I never said anything like that. Yeah, I still think you ought to sell.” His gesture and expression said more about the building behind Lila than any words. “Someone like you killing yourself so you can sell beer and worms to a bunch of slobs who can’t remember their last bath isn’t a good thing. Is that sexist?”
    Lila smiled, aware she’d been sharper than she meant. “Not entirely. And you forgot to mention you’d like to tear this place down and build something - What did you call it? - decent.”
    “It was the wrong word. All I meant was...”
    “I know, I know. We’ve had this conversation. Anyhow, you said you’d talk to Lawson about my loan,”
    Van was slow to answer. “He asked if I agreed with your business projection numbers. I didn’t tell him I don’t. I didn’t tell him a small resort here won’t have a chance when someone builds a fancier place - and that day’s coming. What I said was, if anyone can reconstruct this heap into what it used to be, it’s you.”
    Lila took the last step to the ground. In spite of herself, she reacted to him, felt surrounded by - included in - an aura of power, whether she exactly wanted that or not. Something primal going on there, she told herself, and tried to shove aside the attraction-aversion combination that disturbed her so. It didn’t entirely work: The truth was, he was attractive in all regards. He was likable, even if occasionally his blunt honesty felt a touch domineering. He was attracted to her and she appreciated his willingness to indicate it without pushing too hard. Now she smiled up at him and said, “Thanks. It was good of you to step up for me. But I’m not doing reconstruction. What it is, it’s overdue maintenance.”
    Shrugging, Van ignored her small joke to speak almost sadly. “I didn’t like my conversation with him, Lila. Edward Lawson’s not just my banker, he’s an old friend. Holding back the truth’s the worst kind of lie.”
    “I’m sorry.” She put a hand on his sleeve. “I never meant to put you in a rough spot. It’s just that when you offered...”
    His interruption was brusque. “I hate watching you waste your time. Look, sell this place to me. You know I’ll make you a generous deal. I’ll build something big and modern. You’ll manage it. Good salary, living quarters, the whole nine yards. Who better than a beautiful woman who loves the place? My friend.”
    “Uncle Bake and Aunt Lila left their home and business to me to be mine the way it was theirs. That’s what I want. What I’ll have.”
    “You didn’t even know you owned this until a year ago, and they’d both been dead for years before that. How do you know what they wanted?“ He was almost angry. “You’re letting sentiment dictate the