An Engagement in Seattle - Debbie Macomber [80]
Lesley clutched her handbag to her breast, astonished at how close she’d come to losing everything. Her keys were in her purse, along with her identification, checkbook, money and credit cards. Had she lost all her ID, it would’ve been a nightmare to replace. Nor would she have felt safe knowing someone had the keys to her home and her car, along with her address. The thought chilled her to the bone.
There seemed to be a hundred questions that needed answering before the police officer escorted the mugger to the station.
“I’m very grateful,” Lesley said, studying the man who’d rescued her purse. He was tall—well over six feet—and big. She was surprised anyone that massive could move with such speed. At first glance she guessed he was a bodybuilder, but on closer inspection she decided he wasn’t the type who spent his time in a gym. He had a rugged, outdoorsy look that Lesley found strongly appealing. A big, gentle “bear” of a man. A gym would’ve felt confining to someone like Chase. Adding to his attractiveness were dark brown eyes and a friendly smile.
“My pleasure, Miss…”
“Lesley Campbell. I go by Ms.” She paused. “How did you know I’m not married?”
“No ring.”
Her thumb absently moved over the groove in her finger where Tony’s engagement ring had once been and she nodded. He wasn’t wearing one, either.
“Do you do this sort of thing for a living?”
“Excuse me?” Chase smiled at her, looking a bit confused.
“Run after crooks, I mean,” Lesley said. “Are you an off-duty policeman or something?”
“No, I work on the Alaska pipeline. I’m visiting Seattle for the next few weeks.”
“That explains it,” she said.
“Explains what?”
She hadn’t realized he’d heard her. “What I was thinking about you. That you’re an open-air kind of person.” She felt mildly surprised that she’d read him so well. Generally she didn’t consider herself especially perceptive.
Her insight appeared to please him because he smiled again. “Would you like to know what I was thinking about you?”
“Sure.” She probably shouldn’t be so curious, but it wouldn’t do any harm.
“You run well, with agility and grace, and you’re the first woman I’ve met in a long while who doesn’t have to throw back her head to look up at me.”
“That’s true enough.” Lesley understood what it meant to be tall. She was five-eleven herself and had been the tallest girl in her high school class. Her height had been a curse and yet, in some ways, her greatest asset. Her teachers assumed that because she was taller she should be more mature, smarter, a leader, so she’d been burdened with those expectations; at the same time, she now realized, they’d been a blessing. She had learned to be both tactful and authoritative, which served her well as a teacher. However, buying clothes had always been a problem when she was a teenager, along with attracting boys. It was only when she entered her twenties that she decided to be proud of who and what she was. Once she refused to apologize for her height, she seemed to attract the opposite sex. Shortly after that, she’d met Tony. It had never bothered her that he was an inch shorter than she was, nor had it seemed to trouble him.
She and Chase were walking back toward the grocery store. “You’re a runner?”
“Heavens, no,” Lesley answered, although she was flattered by the assumption.
As they were standing under the hanging fuchsia baskets, Lesley realized they had no reason to continue their discussion. “I’d like to thank you for your help,” she said, opening her purse and taking out her wallet.
He placed his hand on hers, his touch gentle but insistent. “I won’t take your money.”
“I’d never have caught him without you. It’s the least I can do.”
“I did what anyone would have done.”
“Hardly,” Lesley countered. The lot had been full of people and no one else had chased the mugger. No one else had been willing to get involved. She’d received plenty of sympathetic looks, but no one other than Chase had helped her.
“If you want to thank me, how