He wouldn’t be giving up the news or his passion for imparting the truth to the unsuspecting world. He’d just be changing which news he covered and the place from which he covered it. After the time he’d just spent in Yorkshire Falls with his family, including the people of his home-town, Roman realized not only could he handle settling down, he wanted to.
“Well?” he asked in the face of stunned silence. “No wisecracks?”
Rick shrugged. “We wish you well.”
“You can do better than that.”
“I joke about a lot of things, but not when so much is at stake. This is huge for you, Roman. I wish you the best.”
Rick held out his hand and Roman took it, pulling him into a brotherly hug. “You can do me one favor. Keep an eye on Charlotte while I’m gone.”
“Now, that’s no hardship.” Rick smacked him on the back. He grinned, reverting to his old teasing self.
Roman narrowed his gaze. “Just keep your goddamn hands to yourself,” he said for the sake of brotherly argument. Not because he worried about Rick making a move on his woman. Having calmed down a bit, he knew he trusted his brothers with his life—and that included Charlotte.
“He’s possessive,” Rick said, hands folded across his chest.
Chase snickered.
Roman groaned. “Just don’t screw this up. Watch out for her until I get back. I have to go do laundry and then pack.” Roman started for the short flight of wooden stairs that led to the house.
“What makes this one so special?” Rick called out.
“Other than the fact that she’s his alibi?” Chase’s laugh followed him to the door.
Roman shook his head. He grabbed for the doorknob, then turned back, “I can’t wait for the day when the joke’s on the two of you.”
* * *
Charlotte strode into her apartment, her cell phone ringing in her bag. She dropped her cleaning onto the couch and pulled out her phone. “Let’s see who called.” Her stomach clenched in tight knots as she prayed neither her father nor Roman had reached out. She couldn’t avoid both men forever, but until she understood what she needed out of life, she was giving avoidance her best shot.
She listened to the first and only message. “Hi, Charlotte. It’s me.” Roman’s voice hit her like a punch in the stomach, sucking all the air out of her lungs. She lowered herself into the nearest chair.
“I just called to say …”
Silence followed, and she held her breath, waiting for him to continue. Wanting to hear she didn’t know what.
“I called to say good-bye.”
The hurt overflowed in her veins, seeping into every part of her being. She waited for him to say more, but all that followed was the click of being disconnected. She sat in mute silence, the lump in her throat huge, the squeezing sensation that brought a pain to her chest intense.
So that was it. He’d taken off again for parts unknown, just as she’d always known he would.
Her insides churned and she thought she might be sick. But why? Why should she be upset Roman had followed the pattern he’d set? The one she’d expected? She’d told him she didn’t trust him and he’d left. Unable to stand the stifling apartment and questions that dogged her, she grabbed her keys and ran out the door without looking back.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Charlotte walked into the general store at seven A.M, the same time Herb Cooper opened the doors.
“Third time this week you’re here this early. New schedule?” he asked.
She smiled. “You could say that.” A week after Roman’s departure, she was amazed at the amount of avoidance a creative person could manage. No one else shopped this early and she found she could get in and out without having to make small talk with anyone other than Herb or Rox-anne, his wife.
“Well, the fresh bread’s not even unpacked yet, but I’ll grab you a loaf and have it waiting at the register for when you’re ready to check out.”
“Thanks, Herb.”
“Just doing my job. You keep the womenfolk happy and us men in town decided we’d best keep you happy too.”
Charlotte laughed. “I wouldn’t turn down fresh bread, but I think you’re overestimating my importance around here.”
The older man turned the color of his tomatoes in the corner. “No, ma’am. You are definitely keeping the women happy. It’s that panty thief that’s driving ’em insane. The women who had theirs pilfered can’t replace them fast enough and the younger ones hope that Chandler boy will wake them out of their sleep.”
Charlotte lifted her gaze skyward. So much for avoidance.
“Living fairy tales, I tell you. A man like Roman Chandler has more important things to do than steal panties. But try telling that to the women.” He shook his head, just as the telephone rang, interrupting him. “Well, least with him gone, we’ve had some quiet. Whoever is stealing those panties knows he’s got no alibi now, so it’s been quiet.” He reached for the phone. “General store. What can I do for you?”