On Tenterhooks by Greever Williams Read Free Book Online

blacktop, leaving him in a cloud of dull dust . She wanted that dust to fill his nostrils and burn his eyes . Instead, she reached across and opened his door.
     
    He slid into the car with a quickness that surprised her. After he had removed his hat and placed it in his lap, atop the weather-beaten Bible, he fla shed another ugly grin at her , which s he forced herself to return. He smelled like a pile of wet, rotting leaves in the fall. She felt her stomach tighten — adrenaline. It was the same feeling she got when the men in the club got too friendly and put their hands in places where they weren’t welcome. But there was no bouncer here. Just her, alone with him and miles of open road.
     
    Cassie put her hand on the gearshift , and he placed his long fingers over hers. Gooseflesh rippled up her arm. Alarms beat her brain. She wanted to snatch her hand back and run. He moved his hand and folded it neatly atop the other one in his lap, cradling his hat. She put the car in gear and eased back out onto the highway.
     
    “Take me to her,” he commanded. Not knowing how to respond, she mumbled back.
     
    “I’m Cassie.”
     
    “Yes, you are.” He stared out the side window. After a few moments of silence, he began to sing.
    “ Surely the presence of my Lord is in this place . I can feel his mighty power and see his burning face, ” he sang.
     
    Cassie did her best to hide the tears that fell from her eyes as she sped down the Concho Highway.

Chapter 9
     
    Steve returned to work exactly seven weeks after Julie’s death . He neede d to be “doing” rather than “thinking.”   Setting up hardware, troubleshooting network latency issues and taking the occasional help desk call would keep him busy .
     
    On his first day back, he spent the morning at the tech bench, catching up on the backlog of new servers waiting for him to load an operating system . He went out to lunch by himself , grabbed a sub sandwich and took it down to Freedom Park in downtown Charlotte .
     
    Julie’s days had kept her mobile, so they had r arely met for lunch . L ong ago, Steve had discovered how much he enjoyed the peace and quiet of a solitary lunch sitting on the edge of the small creek that traced its way through the park . The birds overhead, the fish below and the sounds of dogs barking in the background made for some nice Zen moments before he tack l ed his often-busy afternoons . Today, he was glad to be back, and even more thankful that it still felt good to be here creek side .
     
    He spent m ost of his afternoon responding to help desk requests : replacing a network c able, installing print drivers or tweaking a projector . Usually he left the direct customer work to the technicians, but he was happy to pitch in today — anything to ke ep doing .
     
    Randy had already issued the corporate email letting everyone know that Steve had lost Julie in a “truly tragic auto accident . ” His co-workers were respectful of his privacy . He had not shared much of himself in the past with them, so he knew they were not going to pry for details . He got the occasional awkward , but sincere , questions of “ How are you doing?”  and “ Is there anything I can do to help?” But most of them kept it strictly business . Death was a funny thing: it wasn’t generally contagious, but you certainly had to be careful when treading around it.
     
    M aking it to his desk at the end of the day, he was exhausted. His efforts at normalcy combined with countless restless nights had worn him down . Tired as he was, he was afraid to return home . He knew what would be waiting for him, and more important, what wouldn’t. M icrowave dinners and nightmares didn’t make for a warm invitation.
     
    I nstead of leaving, he sat down at his de sk and leafed through the piles of mail waiting for him . On the top of the stack, he saw the pale yellow envelope that he had known would be there before he had even entered the door that morning . He