To Thine Own Self Be True by Judy Clemens Read Free Book Online Page B

wall clock ticked, filling the silence.
    “I’m sorry about what happened this summer. I mean, besides Howie. Your farm problems, and all.” He gestured toward my arm. “Your accident.”
    I glanced down to where my mutilated tattoo was hidden under my flannel shirt. “How’d you know about that?”
    He lifted a shoulder. “Just because I left doesn’t mean I didn’t check up on you.”
    My chin jerked up. “What? How?” How , again.
    “Combination of things. The Internet. A few phone calls.”
    “Phone calls? To who?”
    He grimaced. “Don’t want to get anyone in trouble.”
    “Nick, who did you call?”
    He looked away, then back at me. “Your vet.”
    “Carla?”
    “Yeah. Her.”
    Carla Beaumont, my veterinarian, a close friend who had admired Nick’s looks along with me. She’d been in touch with him and hadn’t told me? I knew who I’d be calling the next day.
    “I haven’t talked to her recently,” Nick said. “Just a week or so after I left. I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
    I swallowed. “I assumed when you didn’t call here that you wanted to forget it all. Forget me.”
    “What? You don’t think I figured the same about you? That you were glad to be rid of me? After all, I’m a developer .” His voice caught, and I cleared my throat uncomfortably, touching my new tattoo.
    “I was in shock. You had lied to me, saying you were a barn painter.”
    “So it’s all my fault. You blame me.”
    I balled up my hands and pushed on my thighs. “I wasn’t the one pretending to be something I wasn’t.”
    “Oh, no. You’re so sure of who you are. What’s important.” He pushed himself off the floor and looked down at me. “It’s too bad your priorities tend to lean toward bovines and buildings instead of people.”
    I stood up, seeing him eye-to-eye across the room. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “I think you know. Now, I’m going to bed.”
    “Fine. The roads should be good for driving tomorrow, so you want to get plenty of sleep for your trip home.”
    His jaw bunched, but he didn’t reply. Instead, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the next room, where the sofa sat, waiting for him.
    I stayed for a moment, hands on my hips, breathing deeply and trying to relax my neck. Nick should know I had to keep my farm and protect it if I wanted to stay connected to my history, my life.
    Shit.
    I flipped on the TV and saw nothing but cop shows with autopsied murder victims. Not exactly what I needed.
    I turned out the lights and went to bed.

Chapter Seven
    I was the first up in the morning, having slept like a rock, despite my fears. I awoke with a start and jumped out of bed, heart pounding. What if something had happened while I was asleep? I flung open my door and dove into the hallway, where all was quiet, of course. I forced myself to take a deep breath. Everything was fine. Just fine.
    I used the bathroom, then tiptoed downstairs. I turned on the kitchen light and worked as quietly as I could to get my breakfast. I was standing at the kitchen sink, eating a piece of peanut butter toast, when I heard a noise behind me.
    “Morning, Lucy,” I said.
    When she didn’t answer, I turned and saw Nick in the doorway.
    “Oh,” I said.
    He stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Okay if I watch the news, check on weather?”
    “Be my guest.”
    He went back into the living room, and I heard the TV click on, voices droning about the day. I stood in the doorway just long enough to see there were no new developments about Wolf and Mandy. Wolf was still missing. Mandy was still dead.
    I was back at the sink, choking down my toast, when I heard the stairway door close, and Lucy talking to Nick. I braced myself.
    “So things didn’t go well last night?” she asked quietly when she came into the kitchen.
    I shrugged. “I slept good.”
    Lucy sighed, crossing her arms. “He looks bad.”
    I leaned forward on the sink, bracing my hands on the edge of the