Free Blackberry Winter: A Novel by Sarah Jio Page B

news clipping out of the folder again and stared at the little boy on the page. “You can almost feel the sadness. Something bad happened here.”
    He nodded. “What do you think
happened
?”
    I pointed to the page in my hand. “I think this little boy was abducted here in 1933.”
    “Did they ever find him?”
    “No,” I said. “I mean, not that I can tell.”
    Dominic smiled. “And you, Sherlock, intend to find him?”
    “Well,” I said, “I intend to find out what happened to him, anyway.” I looked at my watch. Half past four. “The gala!” I nearly screamed. “I have an hour to buy a dress and get somewhere very important.”
    “I’ve known a lot of women,” he said with a grin, “and never have I met one who could shop and dress in under an hour.”
    Flustered, I stuffed the file folder back in my bag. “Well, I’m not your everyday woman.”
    “Can I help you?” he asked once downstairs again.
    “Help me? Unless you can sew me a dress, I—”
    “I’ll drive you,” he said, handing me a motorcycle helmet. “Put it on. I’ll close early today. I can get you to Nordstrom quicker than a cab.”
    “But in the snow?”
    “Trust me,” he said, strapping on another helmet, “I’ve driven my bike in worse conditions. Plus, the roads are sanded now. We’ll be fine.”
    “All right,” I said hesitantly, following him to the back door.

    Even at a slow speed, the cold wind whizzed through my coat, and I instinctively wrapped my arms more tightly around Dominic. “Too cold?” he asked, straining his voice to be heard over the motorcycle’s engine, which was roaring and popping so loudly that children looked up, startled, from their sidewalk snowmen.
    “I’m OK,” I replied. Though I didn’t share my true thoughts.
What if Ethan sees me? What would he say? Since when do I, a married woman, hop on the back of a motorcycle with a guy I hardly know? Then again, who gave him permission to start lunching with his ex? Even.
    Dominic pulled the bike into a parking spot in front of Nordstrom and we both stepped off, stowing the helmets on top of the seat with a bungee cord. “Could you use a second pair of eyes?”
    I smiled. “Really? You’d actually go dress shopping with me? I think my husband would rather gouge his eyes out than do that.”
    “I have four sisters,” he said. “I can hold my own at Nordstrom.”
    I glanced at the window display, a mannequin in a silver gown, and felt my heart flutter with fear.
Why am I having such a hard time with this? It’s only shopping, for crying out loud. Why is the idea of trying on a dress giving me such anxiety?
I looked into Dominic’s kind eyes and appreciated him being there. Even more, I
wanted
him to be there. “Yes,” I said, returning his smile. “I would love your help. I have zero fashion sense—and a mother-in-law who will peck me to pieces if I don’t find suitable attire.”
    “Leave it to me,” he said, chivalrously holding the door.
    Together we rode the escalator up to the second-floor dress section and combed the aisles for an appropriate gown.
    “How about this one?” Dominic held up a black sequined floor-length dress.
    “Too fitted,” I said, shaking my head in disapproval. “I’d look like a sausage in it.”
    He refocused his efforts and plucked a blue gown from a nearby rack. “This,” he said, “is very nice.”
    I nodded. “It is.”
    “Blue’s your color.”
    I held up my bracelet. The gold chain with its three blue sapphires sparkled under the department store lights. Ethan had given it to me on my thirtieth birthday. I would never forget the way he had beamed with pride when he clasped it on my wrist.
    “A perfect match,” Dominic said. “Here, go try it on.”
    I grabbed the hanger and walked quickly to the dressing room. I caught a glimpse of my bare body in the mirror before I slipped the gown over my head. I looked away quickly.
My God, how did I forget? Today is May 3. The anniversary of