Lilies and Lies Read Online Free Page A

Maddie could almost hear the pepper-haired woman’s voice as she sat in the dusty old classroom of Clover Cove Elementary so many years ago, admonishing Maddie to please hold her tongue as the class worked through a grammar lesson. Mrs. Johnson often narrowed a gaze over her tortoise-rimmed spectacles while pointing a finger and stating in a flat, agitated voice, ‘Maddie Cutler, your mouth overflows like Niagara Falls…’
    So what if the statement held a hint of truth?
    “Don’t worry about that now.” Gunnar studied Maddie, his gaze filled with concern that chased the chill away. “I’m more worried about you. Does your head hurt much?”
    “I just feel a little woozy.”
    “Anything else?” His free hand slipped over her with impossibly gentle butterfly strokes, down each arm and up one side, then the other, to flutter over her ribcage. “Does any of this hurt?”
    “No.” His touch sent a bonfire of heat through her, and she turned away from him, wiggling from his grasp before he caught wind of the effect he had on her. “My ego is hurt more than anything. Wyatt tried to warn me about the brakes.”
    Gunnar’s gaze narrowed and his lips flattened into a thin line that deepened the cleft in the center of his chin. “Warn you how?”
    “He said they were loose, but I insisted on taking the truck anyway because Marcus needed supplies for the Oak Street project. The problem didn’t sound serious, so I didn’t think much of it.” She was rambling, but she just couldn’t seem to help herself. Tiny jolts of electricity raced along her spine at the thought of Gunnar’s touch. “Wyatt asked me to drop the truck off here when I was finished so you could check the brakes. That’s why I was headed this way. I almost made it without incident. Almost…”
    If she hadn’t stopped at the hardware store to copy the keys, everything might have been just fine. So this was her fault…every bit her fault. The keys stabbed into her hip through the front pocket of her jeans like a cruel reminder of her transgression.
    Again, her gaze drifted to bricks scattered across the concrete, boxes of supplies toppled and tossed, and poor Old Blue, whose rear fender looked like a convoluted slinky. The delivery truck jackknifed nose-down in the oil bay, a bumble bee diving into a honeypot. Tears filled Maddie’s eyes as reality took root.
    “Here you go, Uncle Gunnar.” The kid named Kyle returned, shaking a disposable ice pack so the gel inside activated. He tossed it to Gunnar and then paused to do a slow sweep of the room. “This is crazy-weird.”
    “Yes, it is. Bring me my cellphone from the workbench over there.” Gunnar motioned. “Careful you don’t step on any glass.”
    “Boy, I sure know what I’m gonna write my English essay on now. Do you think Mrs. Clompton will even believe this? Maybe I should take some pictures as proof. Can I use the camera on your phone?”
    “Settle down, cowboy. I have to make a call first. Go out to meet the paramedics. Tell them Maddie bumped her head and they need to come take a look at her.”
    “Cool. I can help direct traffic, too. Look at all the people out there. It’s almost like opening day at the county fair. You’re gonna probably be in the newspaper, Maddie. There’s Mr. Juno from the Clover Cove Times. He’s interviewing Mrs. Tilson.”
    That elicited another groan. Maddie pressed a hand to her mid-section as Gunnar placed the ice-pack across her forehead and lifted her free hand to hold it in place. “Hold it steady, Maddie. It will keep the swelling down until the paramedics get you to the hospital.”
    “I’m not going to the hospital.”
    “Sorry, but you’re trumped on that point.”
    “Story of my life.”
    The kid handed Gunnar the phone and Maddie cringed as Gunnar punched in a number. He waited for the connection, and then turned slightly away from her as he spoke in a hushed voice. She leaned in to eavesdrop on the conversation, and felt like a