Crossed Hearts (Matchmaker Trilogy) by Barbara Delinsky Read Free Book Online Page B

straight and hard. “I called her myself, then gave the insurance people a tour.”
    “Call her now. We’ll see what she knows.”
    “I don’t have a phone.”
    Given the other modern amenities in the cabin, Leah couldn’t believe there was no phone. She looked around a little frantically for an instrument that would connect her with the outside world but saw nothing remotely resembling one. Then she remembered Victoria saying that she didn’t have a phone at her cabin, either.
    Why would she have said that, if she’d known that she didn’t have a cabin?
    “She didn’t know about the fire,” Leah insisted.
    “She did.”
    “You’re lying.”
    “I don’t lie.”
    “You have to be lying,” she declared, but her voice had risen in pitch. “Because if you’re not, the implication is that Victoria sent me up here knowing full well that I wouldn’t be able to stay. And that’s preposterous.”
    The coffee cup began to shake in her hand. She set it on the table and wrapped her arms around her waist in a gesture Garrick had seen her make before. It suggested distress, but whether that distress was legitimate remained to be seen.
    He said nothing, simply stared at the confusion that clouded her eyes.
    “She wouldn’t do that,” Leah whispered pleadingly, wanting, needing to believe it. “For three weeks she’s been listening to me—helping me—make plans. I stored all my furniture, notified the electric company, the phone company, my friends. Victoria personally gave me a set of typed directions and sat by while I read them. She wouldn’t have gone to the effort—or let me go to the effort—if she’d known the cabin was useless.”
    Garrick, too, was finding it hard to believe, but it was Leah’s story rather than Victoria’s alleged behavior that evoked his skepticism. Yes, Leah looked confused, but perhaps that was part of the act. If she’d set out to find him, she’d done it. She was in his cabin, wearing his clothing, eating his food, drinking his coffee. She’d even spent the night in his bed, albeit innocently. If she wanted a scoop on Greg Reynolds, she’d positioned herself well.
    “Who are you?” he asked.
    Her head shot up. “I told you. Leah Gates.”
    “Where are you from?”
    “New York.”
    “I don’t suppose you happen to work for a newspaper,” he commented, fully expecting an immediate denial. He was momentarily surprised when her eyes lit up.
    “How did you know?”
    He grunted.
    She didn’t know what to make of that, any more than she knew what to make of the fact that his lips were set tautly, almost angrily, within the confines of his beard.
    “Have you seen my name?” she asked. If he was a crossword addict, as were so many of her fans, her name would have rung a bell.
    “I don’t read papers.”
    “Then you’ve seen one of my books?”
    “You write books, too?” he barked.
    His question and its tone had her thoroughly perplexed. “I compose crossword puzzles. They appear in a small weekly paper, but I’ve had several full books of puzzles published.”
    Crossword puzzles? A likely story. Still, if she was a reporter, she couldn’t be an actress—which didn’t explain why her words sounded so sincere. “Why were you moving up here?” he asked in a more tempered tone of voice.
    “I lost my apartment and wasn’t sure where to go, so Victoria suggested I rent her cabin for a while until I decided.” She dropped a frowning gaze to the table as she mumbled, “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
    Garrick said nothing.
    In the ensuing silence, Leah reran the past few minutes of conversation in her mind. Then, slowly, her eyes rose. “You don’t believe what I’m saying. Why not?”
    He hadn’t expected such forthrightness, and when she looked at him that way, all honesty and vulnerability, he was the one confused. He couldn’t tell her the truth. After staunchly guarding his identity for four years, he wasn’t about to blow it by making an