Blind Tiger by Sandra Brown

She said, “Did Corrine express a desire to go with you?”

“You mean just now? No. She was bringing me up to date on Irv. Sounds like he’s doing okay.”

“Ornery, as you predicted, but holding his own.”

“Have you changed the bandage?”

“Not yet. But he isn’t running a fever, so I don’t think the wound is infected.”

“Want me to stay while you check, then help you wrap him up again?”

“No, I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you any more than you already have been.” She clasped her hands at her waist and avoided looking him in the eye. “In fact, Irv asked me to tell you—on the outside chance that you and I met again—that he’s grateful for what you did and to give you his thanks.”

“He said that?”

“Specifically.”

He propped his shoulder against the doorjamb and folded his arms. “Now I wonder who that pained the most? You for having to pass along his thanks? Or him for owing me his thanks in the first place?”

“My gratitude is sincere, Mr. Hutton. So is Irv’s.”

“Then he’s changed his opinion of me?”

“Why would you say that?”

“When you two came into the sheriff’s office while I was in custody, the second he saw me he said, ‘Didn't I tell you he was up to no good?’ Meaning that before he’d even met me, before he ever looked me in the eye, he’d drawn that conclusion and shared it with you.”

He uncrossed his arms and pushed off the door frame to face her squarely. Watching closely to see how she would react, he added, “Which I guess is why he went for his shotgun that day I wandered into your yard.”

“Shotgun?”

“No sense in lying. I saw him. Why’d he have that shotgun at the ready?”

Noticeably uneasy, she said, “He’s leery of strangers.”

“Overmuch, I’d say.”

“He kept a shotgun handy as a precaution. To protect Pearl and me if the need arose.”

“But I hadn’t done anything out of line. You said so yourself. You told the sheriff that—”

“I know what I told him.”

“Then why did your father-in-law feel he had to stand guard?”

His persistence had turned her uneasiness into annoyance. “Maybe it’s your overall manner, Mr. Hutton.”

“What manner is that?”

“The way you look at a person. Like you’re trying to figure them out.”

“Sometimes I am.”

“Well, it’s rude and unnerving. It makes people uncomfortable.”

“You especially, I think.”

Dander up, she said, “Not at all.”

“Then why’d you go all jumpy last night?”

“I didn’t go jumpy.”

He snuffled. She’d played right into his gambit.

When she realized it, she looked away from him, then turned and looked behind her toward Irv’s bedroom before coming back around to him. Her expression was now as prim as a nun’s.

“You deliberately got us off the subject of Corrine,” she said. “In good conscience, I can’t send her back to the roadhouse and that Gert who has been so cruel to her.”

“She wanted out of there, all right. But where can she go?”

“I’m willing to take her in. She’ll have a place to live, and I’ll pay her a modest salary to work for me. With Irv incapacitated, I could use the extra help with my business. Corrine is eager to improve her lot in life.”

“Sounds good all around, but it seems sudden.”

“Well, she was suddenly foisted on me, wasn’t she? I thought you would be relieved. This will free you from any responsibility you feel toward her.”

“Not entirely.” He hitched his chin toward the bedroom. “How’s Corrine feel about this arrangement?”

“Irv is talking it over with her now. He’s confident that she’ll jump at the chance, and so am I. It’s certainly preferable to the situation she was in at Lefty’s.”

“How’d she wind up there? Did she tell you?”

“She was naïve and trusting of a man. She’s paying the consequences of having stars in her eyes. They can be blinding.” She looked down at her open palm and ran her other thumb over the pinprick in the center. Then she dropped her hand and hid it in a fold of her skirt, as though she’d been caught with it in the cookie jar.

“I shouldn’t have let you kiss me last night, Mr. Hutton. But neither should you have taken advantage of me when I was in such a state, so we were both at fault for things getting out of hand. Don’t even think of it ever happening again. The incident will never be mentioned. We’ll pretend that it didn’t happen. No, we’ll forget that it happened.”

He didn’t say anything. She didn’t look into his face but continued to stare straight ahead at the button on his shirt to which she’d issued the ultimatum about pretending and forgetting. He waited her out. Finally, she tilted her head back and met his eyes. “That’s how it’s going to be.”

“Is that right?”

She went rigid with indignation and made a sound of disgust. “I knew you’d be difficult about it.”