Lightning Strikes (Hudson 2)

We walked slowly back to Endfield Place, holding hands and barely speaking.

"Maybe you could come meet me at the school tomorrow," I suggested.

"Sure. Just tell me where it is," he said, "and I'll find out how to get there."

"Oh, I know London really well, Roy. Where is this bed and breakfast you're at?" I asked him. It took me only a split second to know he wasn't really staying anywhere. Roy's face was an open book when it came to his feelings. I could turn to any page and know if he was sad or happy, and especially if he was telling the truth or not.

"I haven't found one yet," he admitted. "I came directly here. I didn't want to waste any time I might be able to spend with you," he explained. "I'll find one now, I'm sure."

"It's late, Roy. Where are you going to look?"

"I've got some addresses my friends gave me," he said, patting his jacket pocket.

I stared at him and he started to laugh.

"You saw what my room was like, but you're welcome to sleep on the floor," I said.

"Really? You won't get into trouble?"

"I don't think so," I said. I couldn't imagine Great-uncle Richard taking me to task for anything anymore.

"Sure," he said. "It'd be almost like old times. The two of us under the same roof again."

"Okay, but let's be quiet. I'd rather not have Boggs on my case," I warned. "He'd be worse than your drill sergeant."

"Doubt that," Roy said.

"You haven't really met Boggs," I retorted.

The house was its usual dead quiet when we entered. As softly as we could, we walked down the corridor to my room. I told Roy where the bathroom was and then I got myself ready for bed. I fixed the best bed I could for him using an extra blanket and pillow. When he saw the makeshift bed, he smiled.

"I did the best I could," I said.

"I've slept-in' worse places, Rain," he assured me. "At least it's not damp and in the middle of a storm with all sorts of bugs and rats traveling over you."

I went to the bathroom. When I returned, he was lying in his bed, his hands behind his head, looking up at the ceiling and smiling as if he was lying in the softest king-size bed with silk sheets and pillowcases.

"I should tell you," I said when I got into my small bed, "that this room is haunted."

"Haunted? What do you mean?"

I told him the story of the original owner and his mistress. Roy listened with his eyes wide, especially when I described some of the noises, the breeze and the soft sound of weeping I either imagined or heard from time to time.

He sat up quickly.

"Damn, girl. Maybe this isn't better than some foxhole. At least we've never had spirits along the march with us."

I laughed. How good it felt to have him near me, to know he was there once again to protect and watch over me. All the memories of him hovering nearby in the city when I thought I was alone, unprotected and vulnerable returned. Would I ever find anyone as dedicated to me? If only Mama had, I thought. How was it that Ken's seed could coproduce a man as good as Roy? Surely there were other ingredients that God himself threw in the mix from time to time. I hoped and prayed He had thrown something extra in for me, too.

"Now don't be afraid, Roy. I'm here to protect you," I said.

"Sure," he said laughing. He turned to look at me. "You mind if I just look at you awhile, watch you fall asleep?" he asked. "There were lots of times I did that back home and you didn't even know it."

"What? When?"

"Oh, different times. Beni would be fast asleep and I'd sneak into your room and just stare at you."

"You didn't."