When Heart Collides

Is Miracle worse?

CHAPTER 4

It was a clear reference to one of the theories surrounding Matthew White's death. The county coroner stated that Matthew White appeared to have been strangled, among other things, before having his face bashed in, the latter being the final blow that brought him to death.

Kelly just wanted to get away, to mourn her best friend's death in peace, and not be subjected to the cross-examination Frank seemed determined to conduct. She raised her chin stubbornly. "Luke is not Duke," she pointed out.

Frank's expression was contemptuous, both of her statement and of the man it concerned.

"I do not know about that. Twins are thought to have an unnatural bond. Maybe he is just like his brother." Frank drew himself up, squared his shoulders, and issued a warning. "I do not want you to talk to Luke Alexander or do anything with him."

Kelly could feel her temper flaring for a brief moment, despite the emotional pain she was attempting to cope with. Frank was making noises like a possessive boyfriend, and she did not need or want that right now. "Frankly, it is not your place to tell me what to do or not do."

Realizing he had made a tactical error, Frank tried to backtrack as quickly as possible while still saving face.

"Sure it is," he insisted. "I am concerned about you, Kelly. I am concerned about what happens to you. "We do not know what these Alexanders are really capable of," he said. "And I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you because I did not speak up."

Did Frank really believe she was so clueless that she required guidance? That she was so naive that she could not take control of her own life? A wave of resentment erupted within her unexpectedly. She struggled to keep it under control.

Kelly convinced herself that she was only upset. And Frank did mean well, even if he could come across as overbearing at times.

It took some effort, but she forced a smile onto her lips. "I will be okay, Frank. Do not be so worried. And I am still driving myself home," she said, in case he thought he had talked her out of it.

She could tell Frank did not like her refusing his help, but he did not say anything and simply nodded. She was about to sigh with relief when Frank unexpectedly said, "All right, I will follow you."

Kelly opened her mouth to tell him that he did not have to put himself through that, but she knew she would be wasting her breath, and she was not in the mood to argue.

Perhaps she was acting unfairly. Another woman would have been overjoyed to have someone willingly offer to do nothing but wrap her in cotton and watch over her like this. A part of her hoped she would be thrilled as well. But now that she was face to face with it, she felt almost suffocated. She wanted nothing more than to flee.

Maybe she was overreacting, exaggerating what was, at its core, an act of kindness. But if she was overreacting, she had a good reason. Someone she cared about had died, leaving a void in her life, and it would take some time for her to come to terms with it.

Rather than prolong this no-win debate, Kelly nodded. "All right, I will meet you at the house." With that, she turned and walked quickly over to where she'd parked her vehicle.

Luke observed the tall, slim, attractive young blonde walking through the parking lot. To be more specific, she was walking away from her annoying, prissy little friend.

Frank Ford.

Now, there was a stalker in the making if he ever saw one, Luke judged. He wondered if Kelly knew what Frank was capable of.

Not his affair, Luke reminded himself the next moment.

The cheerful little girl with swollen eyes was her own person. There was no reason for him to be hovering in the background, like a stray dark cloud on the horizon, watching over her. She may appear to be the naive girl next door, but he had a feeling that when it came down to it, Kelly Anderson was a much stronger character than she appeared.

He had a feeling that would not sit well with Frank Ford.

And even if she could be pushed around by the likes of Ford, what was that to him? Why did he feel the need to make sure she was fine? The girl had his handkerchief, which he wanted back. Eventually. There was no other reason to pay attention to her, her whereabouts, and whether Ford, the spineless jellyfish, was a stalker.

Luke, frustrated with himself and the fact that he was not leaving, watched Kelly cross to the far right side of the lot and get into her car, a neat little sedan that would have been nearly useless on his own ranch. It would not have been able to carry much more than Kelly and her skinny friends.

Her sedan started up. Another minute and she was driving off the lot.

Rubbing his hands on the back of his jeans, Luke got into the cab of his black pickup and drove away.

- - -

"Have you been crying?"

Rachel Anderson fired the question, fueled by concern, as her daughter walked into the back of Anderson Kitchen, the restaurant she and her husband Daniel had founded and expanded into a national chain.

Rachel quickly crossed to her youngest child and immersed herself in Kelly's life after realizing the answer to her question was yes. "Did you have an argument with that boy?" she inquired.

Rachel, eager for one of her children to finally make her a grandmother, as all of her friends' children had done, fanned every fire that might contain an iron. In Kelly's case, the iron was named Frank Ford.

Frank would not have been her first or second choice. Rachel preferred her men to be more manly, much like her Daniel was before the good life fattened him up. But Frank was here, and he adored Kelly. Her daughter could do a lot worse than marrying the boy, she thought.

But if he made Kelly cry, all bets were off. She would never tolerate someone who could hurt her youngest child to the point of tears. Given that they were living in a place like Golden Creek, her maternal claws would instantly emerge, razor-sharp and ready, whenever one of her children was hurt, physically or emotionally.

"No, Mother," Kelly said evenly, wishing she had waited before walking into work. "We did not get into an argument."

Part of her wanted to dash up to her room and shut the door, while the other part wanted to be wrapped in her mother's arms and told that everything was fine. The sun was still rising in the east and setting in the west, and everything in between was fine.

Except that it was not true. And she had to grow up and face it.

"Is Miracle worse?" her father inquired sympathetically, exiting the large storage room where they kept the supplies and foodstuffs used that day. To make his speech more understandable, he pushed the unlit cigar in his mouth to the side with his tongue.