How to Knit a Heart Back Home by Rachael Herron Read Free Book Online

worse.” Owen frowned.
    Lucy tried to steer the conversation. “How long do you really think you’ll be here, anyway?”
    “I have no idea. I know I’m not staying.”
    Lucy twisted the cap of the antibiotic cream tighter and then loosened it.
    Owen went on, “I’m trying to figure out what I’m doing when it comes to my mother. She’s just down the road, at Willow Rock.”
    “Why is she there?”
    “Alzheimer’s. Couldn’t live alone anymore.” Still seated on the bed, he ran his fingers along the Band-Aids. “I haven’t decided how I’m doing all this yet. I sold most of my stuff before I left and what little I kept is in storage in San Francisco. But I’d like to take this place while I work it all out. It’s perfect. Great location, just around the corner from my mom, and it’s furnished. I won’t ask you to make a decision right now. Will you just let me know after you think about it? You need my cell number, and here.” He pulled a piece of folded paper out of his pocket and handed it to her, the paper warm from being so close to his skin. “A few references. They’re officers, sergeants, and lieutenants I used to work with. They all think I’m great. If you want the full story, I listed dispatch’s phone number. They may not all like me that much, but you’ll get honesty from them. My credit score is on there, and it’s okay if you confirm it.”
    “Do you smoke?”
    “Depends on what you mean. Smoke what?”
    Was he serious? “Cigarettes?”
    He half smiled, and she saw him, suddenly, in the hallway of the high school, his arm slung around yet another blond, that same teasing look in his eye. “I don’t smoke anything.”
    Whew. “Do you, well . . . I’m not sure how to ask this.”
    “Just ask.” His voice was gravelly. She liked it too much.
    “Do you carry a gun?”
    “Do you really want to know?”
    “Heck, yeah!”
    “Then, yes, I do carry a gun. Is that a problem?”
    Lucy thought for a moment. He studied her while she did. She made a conscious effort to still her hands. She wished for her knitting, wished she could feel the wool slipping through her fingers, but her bag was still inside the store.
    “It makes me nervous. Didn’t you say you were retired? Ex-cops still carry guns?”
    “It’s like carrying your driver’s license. Even if I’m not a cop anymore . . .” Owen’s voice trailed off. Then he went on. “After that many years, it gets to be a habit. I don’t feel clothed if I’m not wearing it.”
    And just like that, Lucy pictured him with no clothes on. The image flashed in front of her eyes, superimposed against his actual clothing. Instead of the blue button-down shirt, she could see his bare, muscled chest. No clothes, no pants, no gun.
    How long had it been for her? she wondered. Obviously, too damn long.
    God. Maybe he hadn’t noticed her fade-out. “Guns scare me,” Lucy said. “But I think that’s probably a good thing.”
    “You should go to the range sometime.”
    “No way. Not me.”
    “I’ll take you.”
    “Not my thing. I’m the biggest chicken you’ll ever meet. Ask anyone.” Man, did she sound lame.
    “You don’t seem like a chicken to me.”
    Lucy nodded vehemently. “Scared of rats. And heights. Really scared of heights. Can’t even go up a ladder. Lightning. Don’t like that much either.” Why was she saying this?
    “Chickens don’t drag pregnant women out of exploding cars.”
    Lucy sucked in her breath. “That’s different.”
    He stood, grimacing the slightest bit as he did. His hand moved to his hip in a seemingly unconscious gesture.
    “Does your hip hurt a lot?” Lucy asked.
    Owen frowned. “Not always.”
    “Can I ask how you injured it?”
    “You can ask.” But the tone of his voice told her that he wasn’t going to answer.
    “Never mind,” she stammered. “I should probably get on my way . . .” She glanced at her watch. It was even later than she’d thought.
    “Hot date?”
    “Oh! No. I