So Little Time Read online

  The clothes she had picked up at the thrift store for him fitted him perfectly. Too perfectly, she realized, when she saw him dressed in them. The jeans clung to his lean hips and the dark blue knit shirt molded itself to his solid chest, emphasizing his athletic build.

  Corie tried valiantly not to notice as she directed him to start on the paint work in one of the upper floor bedrooms. She’d already stripped and washed the walls, and now she was ready to use the new paint and wallpaper.

  Excited about the prospect of finally seeing the results of all the hard work, she was nevertheless wary of the man who was helping her achieve her goal.

  And the last thing on earth she wanted was to feel any emotion for this mysterious man who had seemingly dropped out of the sky at her feet. He stirred her womanly senses just a little too easily, and she wasn’t about to get involved with a man again. Ever.

  She might have made a mistake in letting her sympathy get in the way of her common sense, but she didn’t have to compound it. From now on, she would stay as far out of Granger Deene’s way as possible. Any encounters between them would be kept to a minimum, and she would insist that he ate alone, starting with dinner.

  It didn’t turn out that way. Somehow, when she brought up the subject, he made it sound as if she would be insulting him if she turned him out of her cozy kitchen into the vast wasteland of the dining room.

  “I hate eating alone,” he told her, as he sat at the dinette table that evening. “I don’t enjoy my own company.”

  “It would be a lot more comfortable in the dining room,” Corie said, as she scraped carrots over the kitchen sink. “This table is so small in here.”

  “Then let’s both eat in the dining room.”

  She really didn’t have an answer to that one. While she was still attempting to think of one, Granger added, “It would give me a great deal of pleasure if you would join me for meals. I really don’t want to be alone.”

  She looked up, alerted by an odd note in his voice. If she didn’t know better, she would have said he was afraid to be alone. But that was nonsense. He gave every appearance of being in control of any situation that might arise.

  True, the way she had first met him didn’t support that theory, but the speed with which he’d recovered, and the fact that he’d shown no sign of weakness since, proved that he was a man of formidable strength and determination.

  She was willing to bet that Granger Deene would let no one get the better of him, whether they were his friend or his enemy. And she for one was glad she wasn’t his enemy.

  She wasn’t particularly happy with the idea of sitting in the formal dining room alone with him, however. But then neither did she want to offend him without good reason. She could hardly tell him that he turned her on every time he looked at her. Resigning herself to losing that particular battle, she said reluctantly, “Actually, it would be easier to serve dinner in here, if you don’t mind the primitive surroundings.”

  He swept a glance around the kitchen, then settled his gaze on her warm face. “I find the surroundings utterly charming.”

  He was looking at her when he said it, sending goose bumps up her arms. She tried to appear unconcerned as she reached into the cupboard for the horseradish sauce. The effort was wasted entirely when she dropped the jar with a loud clatter onto the counter.

  In an attempt to cover her nervousness, she said brightly, “I hope you like fresh, steamed vegetables. I don’t usually bother with stuff like this when I’m on my own. I normally just open a can, but since I’m cooking for two it’s worth the effort.”

  Aware that she was babbling, she concentrated on getting the lid off the jar of sauce. She almost jumped out of her skin when Granger got to his feet and gently took the jar from her. With a quick twist of his wrist he had the lid off. Without saying a word, he handed the jar back to her and sat down again.

  “Thank you,” she said feeling ridiculously breathless.

  “You’re entirely welcome. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  “Er...no, thank you. I have it all under control.” Which was more than she could say for herself, she thought ruefully, as she washed the broccoli.

  “Something smells absolutely delicious,” Granger said, sniffing the air in a way that suggested he was more than ready to eat dinner.

  “Pot roast. And I have a lemon pie for dessert.”

  “You certainly have gone to a great deal of trouble. I’m not sure my work is that valuable.”

  She waved a hand at the fridge. “No trouble. I bought a frozen pie. It’s thawing in the fridge.”

  She had her back to him, but she could feel the tension in his silence.

  Throughout dinner, no matter what she asked him, he seemed to avoid the question, turning her words around so that she was the one doing the answering.

  Granger seemed preoccupied, though Corie felt pleased by his obvious enjoyment of her cooking. Wondering if he was worrying about his finances, it occurred to her that no one knew where he was.

  “How will the police get in touch with you?” she asked, as he munched on a piece of roast beef with a rapt expression as if he hadn’t tasted anything quite that delicious before.

  She was unprepared for the reaction she got when he registered the question. Granger choked, dropping his fork onto his plate with a clatter as he reached for a glass of water.

  Corie stared at him in consternation while he struggled to get his breath. Finally, he said in a rasping voice, “Why would they want to get in touch with me?”

  “To return your things if they find them.” Bewildered by his attitude, she added a little defensively, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  He shook his head, and took another sip of water before answering. “I apologize. I find the entire matter upsetting, and I tend to overreact. Please forgive me.”

  “Of course.” His soothing tone mollified her somewhat, but the little knot of uneasiness stayed with her. Determined to find out more about him, she tried once more to question him after he’d finished his dinner.

  “What kind of work do you do?” she asked him, as she served him a slice of lemon pie. “Will you have trouble finding employment again?”

  “I am employed,” he said, looking at the dessert as if it had sprung out of the ground. “I’m employed by you, in a manner of speaking.”

  She sat down, feeling decidedly uncomfortable. “Yes, I know. But that’s just temporary, until you get your finances sorted out. I mean after that. Were you working down here or in Philadelphia when you had your accident?”

  His gaze met hers steadily. “I was in Philadelphia. And I’m sure I’ll be able to find work just as soon as I get everything sorted out.”

  “What about your car? Was that wrecked in the accident?”

  His gaze remained steady. “Yes, I’m afraid it was.”

  “So, you will have to buy a new one, then.”

  “I imagine I shall, yes.”

  Corie pushed her plate away, before she was tempted to have another piece of pie. “You won’t get much choice down here. It would be best to wait until you go back to Philadelphia. You can drive mine in the meantime, as long as it’s just around here.”

  She had to be mad, she thought, trusting the man with her car. But then she’d come this far, she might as well go all the way. In any case, the insurance on her old rattletrap was worth more than the car.

  “That’s very kind of you,” Granger said, “but I don’t foresee any need to go anywhere at present.”

  She wondered about that. A little voice nagged her to find out just why he didn’t want to go out. But then, if he was still unsure of his health, she could understand why he preferred to stay close to home.

  “Besides, I imagine you would need the car to get to work,” Granger added, breaking the short silence.

  “Oh, no, I prefer to walk. At least while the weather is fine. The lab isn’t far from here.”

  “Lab?”

  “I’m a resear
ch assistant.”

  “At a hospital?”

  She looked at him in surprise. “Whatever made you think that? No, I work in a laboratory for a group of scientists. Mostly astronomers to be exact. They’re working on a project that involves the planetary influences on certain aspects of the world and the life that survives on it. It sounds boring, I know, but it’s actually quite fascinating.”

  He sat looking at her with that amazed expression on his face that was becoming very familiar. “I see,” he said, sounding as if he didn’t have a clue as to what she was talking about. “And you walk to work every day?”

  She nodded. “And back. While it’s fine, that is.”

  “I see,” he said again.

  There was a long pause, while he seemed to digest this piece of information with a great deal of concentration.

  The silence unsettled her. Corie rose to her feet and began stacking the dishes. “Would you like to watch some television while I wash the dishes?” she offered tentatively as she carried them across to the sink.

  Granger didn’t answer her, and she looked over her shoulder at him. Somehow she knew he would be staring at her again with that odd expression. “It’s in the living room,” she added, deciding that he had to be learning the language after all, to be confused by so much of what she said. It must have something to do with the pronunciation.

  “I would prefer to help you with the dishes. Perhaps I could put them into that machine for you.”

  “The dishwasher?” She suddenly remembered something. He’d told her he was born in Philadelphia. So he wasn’t from some foreign country after all. It didn’t make sense. Nothing about him made sense. Including her willingness to give him the benefit of the doubt.

  “I really don’t need any help with the dishes,” she said quickly, “but thank you, anyway. I’m sure you have better things to do than help me.”

  She saw by the look on his face that she’d offended him. “I have not forgotten my part of the deal,” he said stiffly as he rose to his feet. “I will get back to my painting right away.”

  “I didn’t mean...” she called out after him, but the door swung closed behind him, shutting off her voice.

  So he was oversensitive, too. “Great,” she muttered, as she began stacking dishes in the dishwasher. Now she had to watch what she said to him.

  She really had taken on more than she could handle, she told herself, closing the door of the dishwasher with a loud snap. The man was a mystery, closemouthed and secretive, and perhaps a little slow on the uptake. On the other hand, he seemed to be well educated, judging by his speech pattern, and he was certainly polite.

  She wondered if perhaps he was hard of hearing, and missed some of the things she said to him. Some men were ridiculously vain about that sort of thing.

  The man was a mass of contradiction. On the one hand he seemed so strong, so competent and independent, yet underneath it all he seemed lost somehow, confused and alone. Either way, she was beginning to regret ever becoming involved with Granger Deene.

  Somehow, however, she couldn’t help responding to that sense of need that try as she might, she couldn’t ignore. It had been a very long time since anyone had needed her. And for some strange reason, she felt very strongly that he needed her.

  He obviously needed help, though how in the world anyone was going to help him when he refused to say anything about himself, she didn’t know.

  Maybe it was just as well, she told herself, as she turned on the dishwasher. She was already in deeper than she wanted to be. Perhaps the less she knew about Granger Deene, the better off she would be.

  Chapter 3

  Granger sat on the edge of the bed, his face between his hands. He had to get himself under control again. He had to think, to sort out the muddled thoughts that chased each other through his mind.

  He had just about decided to turn himself in. He didn’t know how or why he had killed a man, he only knew he had shot someone and that someone had died.

  He’d concluded that he was being held under lock and key because he was a dangerous criminal whose mind had been impaired. Perhaps he had lucid moments, when he appeared to be sane, which was why he could remember little of anything that had gone before.

  He’d decided that the hospital must be a criminal facility for the insane. The doctors were simply attempting to treat a mad killer who had to be confined to a single room for the safety of everyone.

  Or so he’d thought. Now he wasn’t so sure.

  Getting up from the bed, Granger crossed the floor to the window. It was dark outside, and he could see little except for the street lamps reflecting on the houses opposite. The orange glow sent ghostly shadows of tree branches dancing across the pavement in the night wind.

  Corie had told him that she walked to work every day, so it was reasonable to conclude that he hadn’t been mistaken about her working at the hospital.

  But if the hospital was in fact a scientific laboratory, engaged in nothing more significant than a study of the stars, then why was he being held prisoner there? Why wasn’t he in the hands of the proper authorities?

  A car crept slowly past the house, directing twin beams of light to banish the shadows. A black cat streaked across the road in front of the wheels and disappeared into a row of shrubs.

  His heart skipped as he watched the red lights of the car disappear down the street. He had seen no mention of his name in the morning paper, but that didn’t mean they weren’t looking for him.

  How his mind played tricks with him. He couldn’t remember ever seeing a car before now, yet he must have been surrounded by them all his life.

  He still found it difficult to believe he had killed a man in cold blood. He couldn’t equate that terrible act with what he knew of himself, and yet deep down he knew it was the truth. He had to know what had happened.

  He knew that if he went back to that hospital, they wouldn’t tell him anything. They would just pump drugs into him with that infernal needle, and he could spend the rest of his life locked up inside four walls.

  He couldn’t go back. Not until he had learned all there was to know about himself. And Corie Trenton was the key.

  Thinking about Corie gave him a warm feeling low in his belly. He had watched her in the kitchen, stretching her lithe body to reach something from the cupboard, and he’d felt a strong urge to take her in his arms and hold her next to him.

  She had a quiet strength about her, a peace that somehow he was sure he’d never known. In the midst of all his turmoil that day, she had been like a salve to his shattered nerves. Her smile had warmed him like the midday sun, melting the frozen fear that he strived so hard to overcome.

  He’d watched her eyes when she talked to him, eyes the color of a tranquil ocean, and he’d seen compassion in them, and a desire to help him. He’d sat across the table from her, wanting to see those eyes light up with the heat of passion, ignited by the touch of his hands on her bare skin.

  He shook his head, staring out at the still night. Somewhere, sometime, he must have made love to a woman. Yet he remembered nothing. Maybe that was why he wanted to make love to Corie. To rekindle what he knew must be a forgotten pleasure.

  His sigh shook his body. He could not let such thoughts invade his mind. She could well be his enemy. She worked at that place, she must learn about him eventually. If so, he would have to force her to tell him the truth.

  He would make her learn the answers to his questions. One way or the other, he intended to discover how he had ended up in that God-forbidden miserable room.

  And if he discovered that he could be a danger to her, or to anyone else for that matter, he would surrender to the authorities. He wasn’t about to do that, however, until he knew for sure.

  Crossing the room again, Granger flung himself down on the bed. He couldn’t bear the thought of returning to that stifling room. He was used to being in the outdoors, with the earth under his feet and the open sky above.

  Even now he co
uld feel the sharp bite of the winter wind as snow whisked around his face, almost blinding him. Beyond the stretch of dry ground he could see mountains rising in front of dark gray clouds, their white peaks bright against the drab sky.

  He could see tall firs, their green branches weighted down with mounds of pure white snow. He could see ice forming on a lake, and windswept fields shivering in the icy blast.

  He shuddered, and the vision changed, whirling around in his head, along with a sharp pain. Now it was warm, muggy, the grass beneath his feet crackling in the moist heat.

  He could see nothing in front of him but clouds of gray smoke, so thick it blotted out the sky. He could feel the vibration of thunder as it rolled across the rocks ahead of him.

  He was climbing, sweating, his hair sticky and wet beneath his hatband. He felt the smooth handle clasped in his palm again, and knew he carried a revolver.

  A flying beetle buzzed in his face and he swatted it away. He wasn’t alone. Other men were around him, shouting, swearing, crying, screaming...from somewhere ahead of him he could hear gunshots. Dozens, no, hundreds of guns shooting at will.

  He could hear a strange rhythmic pounding and felt the earth shake with the noise. He heard the clinking of chains, the scrape of metal against a rock.

  He saw someone coming toward him through the fog, a face shrouded in the mist. Sweat trickled down his forehead...or was it blood? He didn’t know. He only knew he had to kill. He had no choice. Slowly, and with cold deliberation, he raised the revolver and fired....

  * * *

  The fact that she’d upset Granger played on Corie’s mind, despite her misgivings about the man. She had, after all, made a deal with him and as such she should honor her part of the bargain.

  Perhaps a cup of coffee might do as a peace offering, she thought, as she filled the percolator. The thought of him being upset with her depressed her, though she couldn’t imagine why it should matter so much. He was just an employee, and a temporary one at that.