作者：巴巴拉·怀特·戴乐
出版社：外语教学与研究出版社
格式: AZW3, DOCX, EPUB, MOBI, PDF, TXT
归心试读：
Chapter One
A long memory made for bad company when a man had too much time on his hands. Especially when those hands held a sizable number of grudges.
Caleb Cantrell eased up on the gas pedal of the pickup truck he'd rented earlier that morning at the airport. He cut the engine and stepped down from the cab, his worn boots hitting the ground and raising a cloud of dust. First time in ten years he'd set foot in Flagman's Folly, New Mexico, and the layer of dirt that now marked him made it seem as if he'd never left.
Yet he'd come a hell of a long way since then.
Here on the outskirts of town, he stood and stared across the unpaved road at the place he'd once had to call home.
After he'd left there, he'd slept in no-tell motels, lived out of tour buses and trucks and, eventually, spent time in luxury hotels. Didn't matter where you went, you could always tell the folks who took pride in ownership from the ones who didn't give a damn.
Even here, you could spot the evidence. Not a ritzy neighborhood, not a small community, just a collection of ramshackle houses and tar-paper shacks. A few had shiny windows and spindly flowers in terra-cotta pots. Some had no windowpanes at all. Here and there, he noted a metalsided prefab home with too many coats of paint on it and weeds poking through the cinder blocks holding it up.
And somewhere, beyond all that, he knew he'd find a handful of sun-bleached trailers, their only decoration the cheap curtains hanging inside. The fabric blocked the view into the units through the rusty holes eaten into their sides.
Sometimes, the curtains blocked sights no kid should see, of mamas doing things no mama should do.
Swallowing hard, he retreated a pace, as if he'd felt the pull of one rust-corroded hulk in particular. It wouldn't still be there. It couldn't. But he had no intention of going over there to make sure.
Across the way, a gang of kids hung out near a sagging wire fence and a pile of cast-off truck tires. Still quiet, but soon their laughter and loud conversations would start, followed by the shouts from inside the houses. Some of the houses, anyway.
The rough edges of his ignition key bit into his palm.
In all the years he'd been gone from this town and with all the miles he'd logged, he should have shoved away everything that bothered him about this place.
He hadn't forgotten a single one of them.
The gang of kids had moved out of sight behind one of the shacks. A lone boy, eight or nine years old, stayed behind and stood watching him. Dark hair, a dirty face. Torn T-shirt and skinned knees. Could have been Caleb, twenty years ago.
The kid made his way across the road. "Hey," he said, "whatcha doing?"
"Just looking around."
"What's wrong with your leg?"
The boy must have noticed his awkward gait, the stiffness that always hit him after he sat in one position for a while. "I hurt my knee. Getting off a bull."
"Thought you were supposed to stay on 'em." He shrugged. "That one had other ideas." Not too bad—in those three quick sentences, he'd managed to bypass two years' worth of rehab and pain.
The kid looked away and then quickly back again, shuffled his feet and jerked his chin up high. Caleb recognized the mix of pride and false bravado.
"Hey, mister... got a dollar?"
"Sure." How many times had he asked that question himself? How many times had he sworn he'd never ask it again? He reached into his pocket for his wallet, thumbed it open and plucked out a bill without looking at it. "Here you go."
"Wow. Gee, thanks. Thanks a lot."
Caleb grinned. The boy's grubby fingers clutched a hundred-dollar bill. He turned and raced across the road as if fearing Caleb would change his mind. He wouldn't. He had plenty of money now.
Folks in town would sure be surprised to see him again, especially when he started spending that cash. When he started showing them just how far he'd come. Maybe then they'd look at him differently than they had years ago.
His grin fading, he shoved the wallet into his pocket and nodded.
Yeah. He'd show them, all right.
TOO EARLY to tackle his first order of business.
Caleb looked down the length of Signal Street, taking in the storefronts along the way. Insurance agency. Harley's General Store. Pharmacy. Ice-cream parlor and clothing store. Everything the same as he remembered it from ten years ago. Except for the real estate office he planned to visit as soon as they opened.
How would Tess handle seeing him walk in the door?
The question stunned him, making him realize he wasn't sure how he'd react to their meeting, either. They hadn't parted on the best of terms.
He turned his back on the office and found himself staring at the Double S Café. Not much to look at, just a small square structure made of stucco. But Dori and Manny had brightened the place with pots filled with cactus plants all along the front and painted flowers and vines scrolling around the doorway. Above the door, a sign showed one letter S hooked on to another one. The Double S. That was new since his time.
Slowly, he made his way inside and along the jagged path between scattered tables to the rear of the café. He'd spent a lot of time in this cramped but cozy room, way back when, though not as one of the customers. How could he, when most days he went off to school without even any lunch money?
He settled on one of the stools that gave him a view through the open doorway into the kitchen. The owners, Dori and Manny, stood in conversation near the oversize oven. Dori spotted him first, her expression telling him she'd recognized him right away.
They hurried out to the counter.
Manny shook his hand and slapped him on the shoulder.
He stiffened when Dori leaned close to give him a long, sturdy hug. "It's so good to see you, Caleb."
Her voice hadn't lost the trace of Spanish accent that had always flavored her words or its gentle tone. Now he'd grown old enough to tell it masked concern for him. Or pity? He hoped not. She squeezed his hand, and he saw that same concern in her eyes.
"Good to see you, too." He had to clear his throat before he could continue. "Both of you."
"We read about you in the newspaper. We sent you cards."
Had they? If so, he'd left them behind unread when he'd transferred from the hospital to the rehab. He would have to give her the only response he could. "I didn't write to anyone—"
"No matter. You were busy with the rodeo. And after that..." She shook her head. "You weren't well enough, we know that. The judge called the hospital for more news. That was a terrible accident. Terrible." She squeezed his fingers. "But you're well again?"
How did he answer that?
As far as his body went, yes, he was back in one piece. As "well again" as the doctors said he might ever get. But in his mind and his gut... a different story there. All those months in rehab, he'd found himself with a lot of time to think about things. To run through the memories of his life up till then.
To develop a need that wouldn't let him rest.
He couldn't tell Dori about all that.
"I'm fine," he said simply. "And you've come home?"
He shot a glance around the café, recalling the many nights he'd swept the floors and cleared off the tables after the last customers had gone. The small, brightly decorated restaurant had once represented so much to him. A place to work, get a good meal and feel less alone. That might explain what had driven him to come in here this morning.
He'd first talked to Tess here, too. The memory caused his stomach to clench. The fact she worked in the only real estate agency in town made their reunion inevitable. Suited his purpose, too. She'd get a firsthand look at how well he'd done for himself.
He looked back at Dori and Manny, once the only friends he'd had. Almost the only family. But... come home?
He couldn't tell Dori that, either.
"Just visiting," he said instead. "And while I'm here," he added, putting his plan into words, "I'm looking to buy some investment property."
"But that's wonderful," Dori said, obviously delighted. "You will find yourself a nice house and want to settle down here."
"I've got a house already—on a ranch in Montana." He smiled to soften the words. "But it'll be nice to visit for a while."
A short while.
Seeing Dori and Manny had revived some of the few good memories he had, but they couldn't outweigh the bad.
Once he did what he needed to do, proved he was the equal of anyone else in this town, he'd leave Flagman's Folly behind him again.
For good.
COULD ANYTHING beat showing up for work on a Monday morning and finding a long, tall cowboy waiting on the doorstep?
Yes, Tess LaSalle decided. Unfortunately, cowboys came by the dozen around here. What she needed was one with money.
It was a gorgeous first day of June, worthy of any advertising blurb she could write to attract new clients to Wright Place Realty. But in their tiny town, there was not a client to be found.
Unless...?
Half a block away, she eyed the man leaning against the dusty pickup truck parked at the curb. From his black Stetson to his Western shirt with the shiny pearl snaps, he might have dressed to play a role. Yet one glance at his formfitting, threadbare Wranglers and well-worn black boots plainly announced the truth: he was the real thing.
Whether or not he had cash on the barrelhead remained to be seen.
Still, she hurried along Signal Street toward the storefront office. As desperately as they needed clients, she wasn't about to let this one get away.
"Good morning," she called, digging in her canvas bag for her key ring. "Let me get the office open for you."
"Morning." When she neared him, he held out his hand.
Automatically, she responded. His hand engulfed hers, the roughness of his fingers tingling all her nerve endings. She looked up to find his face hidden by the brim of his Stetson. She could see only a firm jaw and the dark stubble of five o'clock shadow. Another indication of a working cowboy and not a wealthy rancher?
As she watched, he lifted his head and tipped his hat, revealing thick, wavy dark hair and a pair of blazing green eyes.
Tess's fingers trembled in his. She'd have given anything to disappear at that moment. He couldn't have missed her reaction. Just as she couldn't miss recognizing those eyes.
Caleb Cantrell had planned that move to startle her. He'd succeeded, more than he could ever know. Shock warred with guilt inside her.
Belatedly, she realized his hand still covered hers. A treacherous longing to hang on to him stunned her. Appalled by her own emotions, she snatched her fingers away and dropped her arm as if she'd been burned.
She took a long, deep breath and set her jaw. Forcing her voice to remain steady, she asked, "What are you doing here, Caleb?"
He gestured toward the storefront. "That's a real estate office, isn't it?"
Before she could give the obvious answer to his question, a blue van pulled up to the curb behind his pickup truck. Tess's best friend and boss, Dana Wright, emerged from the van. She did a double take at seeing Tess's companion, then marched over to them. "I don't believe my own eyes. Caleb, is that really you?"
"In the flesh."
Good-looking flesh, too, with a nice even tan that set off the whiteness of his smile as he grinned. Tess clutched the key ring she'd finally dug out of her bag.
"Well," Dana continued, "it's good to see you. You remember me? Dana Smith? Now Dana Wright?"
"Of course I remember you. Couldn't forget either of the prettiest girls in town, now could I?" He smiled at Tess.
She stiffened. He was wasting his time. No amount of sweet-talking would ever get her to believe in him again.
Sure, Dana could act natural and concerned. She didn't have Tess's history with the man.
Or Tess's secret.
"What brings you back to Flagman's Folly after all these years?" Dana asked him.
"Well, tell the truth, I'm looking to buy some land here."
"Is that so?" Dana stood taller and smiled wider.
Tess knew her friend's pulse must have quickened at the thought of a possible sale. Her own pulse was beating fast—for other reasons.
"As we like to say around here," Dana continued, "you've come to the 'Wright Place.' I'm sure we can help you out."
"So am I. I've got a list." He tilted his head. "I'd like to talk things over with Tess. Thought we'd go on along to the Double S. Over a cup of coffee, I can fill her in on what I need."
That wasn't what she needed. Not at all. She sent her friend an agonized look. Of course, Dana couldn't understand what it meant. Instead, she sent back an expression of wide-eyed innocence that said plainly, We'll talk later.
"Oh, I don't think I'll be able to do much for you," Tess protested. "I'm just the hired help. A glorified file clerk, really. Dana's the boss. You'll want to deal with her."
Caleb focused on her again. "I don't know about that," he drawled. "You and I've got some catching up to do."
She curled her fingers into fists. "No, we do not, and—"
"Ahh... Tess?" Dana broke in. She looked at Caleb. "If you'll excuse us for just a minute...?"
He patted the fender of the pickup truck. "I'll be waiting right here."
"Thanks."
Within seconds, Dana had unlocked the door and led the way into the office. She turned to Tess with a wide smile—most likely for the benefit of Caleb, who stood outside the storefront window—and said, "Girl, have you completely lost your mind?"
"I don't think so."
"Well, we're both going to lose our jobs if we don't make a sale soon."
Tess sighed. "I know."
As a single mom and the sole breadwinner for her small family, Tess clung to the paycheck she earned here. The money took care of their bills, if she budgeted carefully. When she had pennies left, she helped tide her mother over with her fledgling business, turning their home into a bed-and-breakfast inn and taking on guests.
Nonexistent guests, lately.
Things were bad all around. No one had much money on hand for vacationing in small-town inns. Or for buying property, for that matter. Losing this job would mean she'd have no income.
Roselynn and Nate depended on her. But as bad as things were for her, she knew Dana had it much worse. Widowed and left a single mom, her friend struggled to get by with three kids of her own.
Now Dana stood tugging on a lock of her honey-brown hair, her blue eyes narrowed in speculation.
"I have no idea what all this 'catching up' is that you and Caleb have to do—" Tess remained silent "—though I'm sure I'll hear about it sometime." She smiled as if to soften the words.
Since grade school, she and Dana had shared everything. But not that. She'd never told Dana anything about her connection to Caleb. Much as Tess loved her, she knew Dana couldn't have kept herself from broadcasting the news that Tess had found a boyfriend. Tess had had her own reasons for not wanting the news spread. And after what had happened, she'd given thanks that no one had known.
"I suppose," Dana was saying, "I could offer to show him around town, but I don't want to risk him taking offense. He obviously wants to work with you."
"Yes, I know." Why? That's what worried her. Caleb Cantrell didn't do anything without a reason. And he certainly didn't do anything he didn't want to. She had learned that years ago. After their last conversation way back then, she couldn't imagine why he'd want to speak to her again—or how he could have the nerve to believe she would ever have anything to do with him.
"Look," Dana said, "I can understand your reluctance to deal with Caleb. The man didn't have such a great reputation when he lived here."
"That has nothing to do with it," she protested truthfully.
"Fine. But if there's one thing we know about him, he's made money since he left town. Who are we to keep him from spending it in Flagman's Folly? And, let's face it, we need the commission."
"I know." She couldn't refuse to work with Caleb.
Besides, did she really want Dana working with him? Talking to him? Asking him questions about that so-called "catching up" he claimed they needed to do?
"All right," she said at last, choking on the words.
But it wasn't. No matter how much money she might bring in by making a sale for Wright Place Realty, dealing with Caleb Cantrell could cost her plenty. If he ever found out about the baby she'd kept from him, it might cost her the daughter she loved.
第一章
当一个人有太多的时间，他所拥有的会是不堪的过去。特别是当他的手中握有太多的仇恨时。
迦勒·坎特雷尔放慢了他的小卡车的油门，这辆车是他那个大清早在机场租的。他关掉了引擎，从驾驶室里走出来，他破旧的靴子踏到地面，扬起一阵尘土。这是十年来他第一次踏上新墨西哥州旗人佛里镇的土地，但是他身上的灰尘似乎表明他从没有离开过。
然而，他是走了很长一段路才到这里的。
在这所城镇的郊区，他伫立着，凝视着这条没有铺路面的路，而这个地方他曾经不得不把它唤作家乡。
在他离开这里之后，他睡过时钟旅馆，在旅游巴士和卡车里住过，最终，他住进了豪华宾馆。无论你去到哪里，你总是能够辨认出那些拥有财富且引以为豪的人和那些并不在乎这些的人。
甚至在这里，你也能够发现事实确实如此。这里不是豪华的街坊，不是一个小型的社区，只是一处有着许多摇摇欲坠的房子和糊着纸窗的棚户聚居地。有一些人家有着明亮的窗户，赤陶土罐子里长着细长的花朵。一些人家根本就没有窗玻璃。向四周看，他注意到了一个有着金属边的组合式房屋，屋体上面涂了层层的油漆，野草从垫在屋下的煤渣砖里生长出来。
在这座房子后边的某个地方，他知道他会找到几辆被太阳晒黑的拖车，它们唯一的装饰就是里面悬挂的廉价的窗帘。窗帘可以挡住车体上露天的锈洞。
有时候，这些窗帘挡住了小孩子的窥视，同时也使这些孩子们看不到她们妈妈们的行为。
狠狠地咽下一口唾液，他退了一步，他仿佛感觉到了一只被腐蚀的船体的推搡。它不会一直在那里的。一定不是它。但是他没有想要上前确认的打算。
在路的对面，一帮孩子在一个下垂的铁丝网和一堆遗弃的卡车轮胎附近玩耍。他们这会儿还是安静的，但是不久他们就会发出笑声，大声地说话，而后就是里面屋子里传来了叫喊声。至少叫喊声会从一些房屋里传出来的。
他的手掌被车钥匙的粗糙毛边刺痛了一下。
在他离开这座镇子的这些年里，在他所走过的这些行程里，他本应该忘却一切曾经使他烦恼的关于这个地方的事情。
然而他并没有忘记任何一件事。
这一群孩子已经在一个棚户的后面渐渐淡出视线了。一个孤零零的男孩子，八九岁的样子，留下站在那里，注视着他。他有着黑黑的头发，一张肮脏的脸，穿着破旧的T恤，皮包骨的膝盖露在外面。如果是二十年前，这就是迦勒的样子。
这个孩子穿过了马路。“嘿，”他说，“你在干吗呢？”“只是随便看看。”“你的腿怎么了？”
这个男孩子一定是注意到了他笨拙的步态，他在一个位置上坐上一会儿之后就能感受到那种僵硬。“我从牛背上下来的时候伤到了膝盖。”“我想你那个时候应该呆在牛背上。”他耸耸肩，“人总是有别的想法。”还不算太坏——在刚才快速的三句作答中，他已经设法绕过用来修养和忍受痛苦的两年时间。
这个孩子把脸转向了别处，然后很快就又转了回来，他拖着脚走着，将下巴猛地抬高了。迦勒意识到了他的骄傲与强作的勇敢。“嘿，先生……有一美元吗？“当然。”有多少次他自己问过这个问题？有多少次他发誓再也不会这么问了？他将手伸进口袋摸钱包，用手指将钱包打开，随便抽出了一张钞票，看都没看。“给你。”“哇哦，哎呀，谢谢。非常感谢。”
迦勒咧开嘴笑了。这个孩子肮脏的手抓到了一张一百美元的钞票。他转过身，跑向了马路对面，似乎害怕迦勒改变主意。迦勒不会的，他现在已经有很多钱了。
小镇上的人们再次见到他肯定会很惊讶，特别是看到他开始使用那种现金。当他开始向他们炫耀他走了多远的路才回来时，也许他们看待他的态度和几年前就会不同了。
慢慢地收起笑容，他将钱包放进了口袋里，点了点头。
是的。他要向他们炫耀，毫无疑问。
要处理他的第一笔生意还为时过早。
迦勒看了看信号街道的长度，路旁的店面尽收眼底。保险代理机构，哈利杂货店，药房。还有冰激凌店和服装店。一切都和他十年前的记忆一样。除了他打算一开门上班就去参观的房地产办公室。
如果苔丝看到她走进门将会是怎样的反应？
这个问题让他感到恐惧，也让他意识到他不知道该如何面对苔丝。他们当初并没有友善地分手。
他背向办公室，发现自己注视着双S咖啡馆。其实没有什么可看的，只是一个灰泥建成的正方形建筑物。但是多利和曼尼在门前摆满了仙人掌盆景，在门口四周绘制了花朵和葡萄藤，这使得这个地方一下子明亮起来。在门的上方挂着的牌子上一个S勾起另外一个S。双S，这个招牌在他小的时候就很新奇。
慢慢地，他走了进去，沿着散乱的桌子一直走到了咖啡馆的后面。他曾经在这个狭窄却温馨的屋子度过了许多的时光，尽管那个时候他并不是一名顾客。当时很多时候，他去学校甚至都没有吃午餐的钱，他怎么能在这里消费呢？
他坐在一个可以让他透过打开的门一直看到厨房里面的凳子上。咖啡馆的主人多利和曼尼站在特大号的烤炉旁边说话。多利首先认出了他，她的表情告诉他她立刻就认出了他。
他们向柜台匆匆走来。
曼尼摆了摆手，在他的肩上拍了拍。
当多利靠近他给了他一个长时间且坚定的拥抱时，他的身体都僵硬了，多利对他说：“迦勒，看到你真好。”
她的声音中仍然有西班牙口音的痕迹，这种口音总是给她的话语或者说她温柔的语调添色不少。现在他已经足够老成能够品味出口音中掩盖着对他的关心，抑或是对他的怜悯？他不希望是后者。她紧握了下他的手，他看见了她眼睛里同样的关心。
在他继续说话之前他不得不清了清嗓子，“也很高兴看见你，看见你们俩。”“我们在报纸上读到了你。我们给你寄了明信片。”
真是这样吗？当他从医院转到疗养院的时候，他就没有再读信。他只能给她唯一能做的反应。“我没有给任何人写信——”“没关系。你当时在忙着竞技表演。在那之后……”她摇了摇头，“你的情况不是很好，我们知道。法官打电话给医院，想要获得更多的信息。那真是一次可怕的事故。真可怕。”她紧握了下他的手指。“但是你现在又康复了吗？”
他该如何作答呢？
就他的身体而言，是的，它现在完整无损。“再次康复”，如同医生跟他所讲他会有那么一天。但是在他的内心深处……上演着另外一个故事版本。在疗养院的这些个月，他发现自己有很多时间来思考过去。来回忆以前生活的点点滴滴。
回忆让他心中生出一种欲望，这欲望让他不能停歇。
他不能告诉多利这些。“我很好。”他简单地说。“所以你回家来了？”
他瞧了瞧咖啡馆，想起了曾经许多个夜晚，他睡在地板上，在最后一批客人离开后清理桌子。这个小小的，装饰得如此明亮的店堂曾经对他意义重大。对他而言，那就是一个可以工作，吃一顿好饭，也能感觉不那么寂寞的地方。这也许是他今早就来这里的原因吧。
他第一次和苔丝说话也是在这里。以前的记忆让他的心一阵阵地揪紧。她在镇子上唯一的房地产公司工作，这让他们俩的重聚不可避免。这也符合了他的目的。这样她就可以亲眼看见他现在的成就了。
他回头看了看多利和曼尼，他们曾经是他唯一的朋友。几乎是唯一的家人。但是……回家？
他也不能告诉多利这些事。“只是过来看看。”他说。“这期间，”他补充到，在话语中加入了自己的计划，“看看购买投资房产的事情。”“这太好啦。”多利说，显得很高兴。“你会找到一座怡人的房子的，如果你想要在这里定居下来的话。”“我已经有一座房子了——在蒙大拿州的一个大农场里。”他笑了笑，话语变得温和了。“但是来这里逗留一阵子也是很好的啊。”
很短的一阵子。
多利和曼尼唤起了他心中仅有的一点美好的回忆，但是他们并不能够使他忘却自己那些不好的遭遇。
一旦他做了他需要做的，即向镇子上的人们证明他和每一个人都是平等的以后，他就再一次离开旗人佛里。
永远离开。
还有什么比在周一早上去工作，却发现一个高大的牛仔在门口的阶梯上等着自己更让人兴奋呢？
是的，苔丝·拉萨尔是这么认为的。不幸的是，来这里的牛仔太多了。她需要的只是有钱的那一个。
今天是六月的第一天，天气很好，值得她去写任何大肆宣传的广告来吸引客户去赖特地产。但是在他们小小的城镇，是没法发现一个客户的。
除非？
在半个街区远的地方，她看到了那个男人，他斜靠着停在路边落满灰尘的载货卡车。从他的黑色斯泰森毡帽和闪亮的珍珠纽扣的西式衬衫来看，他也许这么穿着是为了扮演一个角色。然而，瞧一眼他合身且破旧的牛仔裤，以及旧了的黑色靴子，这一切都昭示着这个事实：他就是一个实实在在的人。
他是否有现金还有待证明。
她依旧朝信号街的店面迅速走去。因为他们非常需要客户，她不能再让这一个从她手里溜走了。“早上好，”她对他说道，一边将手伸进她的帆布包取钥匙，“让我来为你打开办公室的门。”“早上好。”当她靠近他的时候，他伸出了他的手。
自然而然地，她也伸出了手。他的手紧紧地握住了她的手，他手指的粗糙刺痛了她所有的神经末梢。她抬起头，发现他的脸被斯泰森毡帽边沿遮挡住了。她看到的只是一个结实的下巴和刮过脸后露出的青色胡茬。难道这又表明他只是一个干活的牛仔而非一个有钱的牧场主？
当她看他的时候，他抬起了头，倾斜了他的帽子，露出了他那浓密的，波浪式的黑发，还有一双炯炯有神的绿色眼睛。
苔丝的手指在他的手里有些颤抖。在那一刻她真想钻入地缝。他不能够错过她的反应。就像她不能错过认出那双眼睛一样。
迦勒·坎特雷尔早已经计划好了用这样的举动给她个惊讶。他成功了，而且比他想象的要成功。震惊感和罪恶感在她的心理作斗争。
慢慢地，她意识到了他的手依然握着自己的手。心中有种叛逆的渴望想要紧紧抓住他的手，这种想法使她感到震惊。被自己的这种情绪吓到的她，突然将自己的手抽了出来，她垂下了胳膊，仿佛被火烧到了一样。
她深吸了一口气，咬咬牙。她迫使自己的声音保持镇定，问道：“迦勒，你在这里做什么？”
他指了指店面，“那是一个房地产办公室，是吗？”
在她对他的问题给出明确的回答之前，一辆蓝色的货车停在了路边，就停在他的货车的后面。苔丝最好的朋友也是老板，德纳·赖特从车里下来了。她看到苔丝的同伴愣了一下，然后走上前来，“我不敢相信我的眼睛。迦勒，真的是你吗？”
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