Night Falls on the Wicked - By Sharie Kohler Page 0,3
Tainted. It was in everyone’s best interest for her to keep to herself. It was a full-time job to do just that. She missed people, longed for company, a simple friend. It was difficult to stay on guard 24/7, but that’s what she had to do.
As long as she lived, that’s what she would do.
Either that or throw in the towel like her mother did, and Darby couldn’t do that. She shivered at the idea. She wasn’t a quitter. She’d keep on moving, running, hiding—and try to take what pleasures she could from life in the process.
That was the only thing she could do. The only plan she had. The alternative to that …
A chill skated down her spine as she recalled the alternative awaiting her. There was no alternative.
She logged off the computer and gathered her bag, stuffing her spiral inside. She needed to go to the store, but she also wanted to squeeze in a run before it became too dark. The endorphins always helped. Always made everything brighter … less depressing now that her life had become this non-life. Not to mention she slept like the dead after a hard run. A deep, dreamless sleep. That was seriously important for her.
Her boots thudded along the wood floor as she left Sam’s office and followed the delicious aroma of food into the kitchen.
Vera was setting four plates at the table. Rory, their fourteen-year-old son, sat at the table working on his homework.
She forced a smile.
“Hey, Darby,” Rory said, looking up shyly from beneath his shaggy bangs.
“Hey, Rory.” She bit back her inclination to ask him what he was studying. She didn’t need to know. Didn’t need to reveal that she might care.
Darby’s gaze moved to the fourth place set at the table, her stomach sinking. Unless they were expecting company, Vera set that plate for her. And she was going to appear rude when she declined. But she had to. Because no way could she stay.
“Find what you were looking for?” Vera inquired.
“Yes. Thanks.”
“Well, wash up.” She nodded toward the sink. “Supper’s almost ready.”
“Oh, thanks, but I can’t stay.”
Vera gave Darby a disapproving glare. “Have plans, do you?”
“Um, yeah.”
“Really?” Vera arched a brow as she wiped her hands on a checked dishcloth. “Because you sure haven’t done much around this town since you moved here, not counting jogging and working long hours for Sam. Such a shame … a pretty girl like you should—”
“Thanks for letting me use your computer, Vera,” Darby cut in, unwilling to suffer the well-meaning lecture when she could offer no explanation as to why a young woman would prefer to live a life of isolation.
Vera released a defeated sigh. “Sure, any time.” She slapped the dish towel over her shoulder and shook her head as if Darby was a creature beyond her understanding.
Once on the porch, Darby met Sam coming in with an armful of wood for the fireplace. Warm air puffed in a cloud from his lips. He frowned at her. “Let me guess. You’re not staying for dinner.”
“No.” She shook her head. “Thanks though.”
“Well, let me walk you into town.”
“That’s not necessary,” she protested.
He frowned. “With the wolves acting up lately, it is necessary.”
“Sam, it’s a short walk into town.” She motioned down the driveway to the squat buildings outlined in the near distance. “And it’s still daylight. None of the attacks have happened during the day. I’ll be fine.”
He scratched his bristly jaw, looking uncertain.
“Stop worrying, Sam. Go eat your dinner and enjoy the rest of your day off.” Her boots thudded down the wooden steps of his porch. She was halfway down his drive when she looked back over her shoulder to see Sam still standing there, watching her. “See! I’m halfway to town and no problems!”
He waved a hand after her, but she could see his lips twitch. It warmed her heart—as it shouldn’t—to make him smile.
She had always been able to make her aunts smile. She hardly remembered those days with them anymore. It had been a long time since she’d made anyone smile or laugh. You had to be close to someone for that to happen.
She tromped down the well-traveled road, following in the tire tracks, where the snow was the smoothest and flattest and it took less work to walk. The pines on either side of her thinned out as she entered the town, passing first the post office and the squat, square building that was the city courthouse.
A couple descended the courthouse steps, their