Adding Up to Marriage (3 page)

She shrugged. Silas sighed.

“Jewel, it's been a long day and I'm ready to drop, but that's still no excuse for me acting like I did when I came home. Especially considering you basically saved my butt. You not only survived my kids for—” he squinted at the microwave clock “—nearly six hours, you obviously took excellent care of them. Not to mention going above and beyond with dinner and the cookies. So I apologize for acting like a bozo.”

Finally she looked at him. “You didn't—”

“I did.”

A smile teased her mouth. “Okay, maybe a little.”

Silas smiled, then ground the heel of his hand into his slightly aching temple. “This single fatherhood business,” he said, dropping his hand, “it's not for sissies. I remember what my brothers and I were like when we were kids and it gives me the willies, to think those two carry my genes.”

“You mean you weren't always this…this…”

“Uptight?”

She lifted her hands.
Whatever.

“No,” he said on a soft laugh. “But I've gotten so used
to who I am now, I guess I've forgotten what it's like to drape cloths over the dining room table and pretend it's a fort. Used to make my mother batty. Especially the time we used her best lace tablecloth.”

“I bet,” Jewel said, giving the now-bare kitchen table one final swipe. “Speaking of mothers…do the boys ever see theirs?”

The unexpected question made his breath hitch in his chest. “She died in a car crash when the boys were very little,” he said quietly. “Not long after our divorce.”

“Ohmigosh…” Spinning around, Jewel pressed her hand to her mouth, then lowered it. “How awful,” she whispered. “Do they even remember her?”

“Ollie does, a little. At least he thinks he does. But Tad was still a baby.”

“Oh. That accounts for…”

Silas tensed. “For what?”

“Why you're so protective of them,” she said gently. “And no, that's not a criticism, anybody in your position would be.” She leaned across the counter and touched his wrist, only to remove it almost before it registered. “You're obviously a really good dad, Silas. But man—” her eyes twinkled “—you'd be a pain in the butt to live with. There,” she said, surveying the much cleaner kitchen, a big smile on her face. “All fixed. Although I have to say my own place—well, Eli's, I suppose—never looks half this good. Suzy Homemaker, I'm not.”

Somehow, he wasn't surprised. “I never could understand how people could live in clutter. Noah and Eli shared a room when we were teenagers—I think my mother was ready to call the HazMat team at one point.”

“Sounds like Noah and me would get along great, then,” she said, and he glared at her, which got another shrug. “Driving myself nuts trying to keep a place clean when it'll
only get messy again simply isn't a big priority. And it's not like I've got the kind of wardrobe that needs padded hangers. Or any hangers, for that matter. I'm not
dirty,
” she said to his appalled expression, “but I'm the only one living there. Nobody comes to visit much, so if the mess doesn't bother me, who cares?”

Silas's eyes narrowed slightly. Did she even hear the loneliness weighing down her words? A loneliness he might not have even noticed if his own hadn't been all up in his face that night, whispering insane ideas in his ear, like…like maybe they could use their respective loneliness to their mutual advantage—

The idea caught him so short he actually had to grab the edge of the counter. Fortunately, Jewel had bopped back into the living room to continue straightening, so she missed it. Whew.

Silas swiveled unsteadily on the stool to watch her righting pictures, putting lamps back, as it struck him how little he actually knew about her. Except for whatever floated in Tierra Rosa's ether, like a free-for-all wireless signal. “You have any family nearby?”

“My mother's in Albuquerque, but we don't see each other much. Haven't seen my dad in years. Or my stepdads, for that matter.”

“Step
dads?
”

“Dos,”
she said holding up two fingers. “One's in Denver, the other's in Montana. Or Wyoming. I forget which. Both remarried. No, wait, the one in Denver is divorced again. I think. Can't keep track, don't really care.”

Although she still periodically flashed smiles in his direction as she talked, her “chipper” was definitely fading fast. So when she bent over to gather the boys' cars—affording Silas a nice, long look at a rather appealing backside, actually—he said, “Forget it, if the boys dragged all
that stuff out here, they can clean it up tomorrow before school. Besides, you're obviously exhausted.”

She straightened, stretching out the muscles in her back. “And it won't drive you insane in the meantime?”

“Yes. But that's my problem, not yours.”

Laughing, Jewel dumped the cars she'd already picked up, a moment before headlight beams streaked through the frosted glass insets alongside the front door. She went to gather her jacket and purse—both somewhat long in the tooth, Silas noticed—and it occurred to him she probably wasn't exactly raking it in, doing what she did. Not that he was, either, but the ends tended to overlap more than not. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket, digging out several bills.

“Here,” he said, laying the cash on the counter. “This is for you.”

She turned, frowning at the money as if it was foreign currency, before aiming the frown at Silas. “Excuse me?”

“For watching the kids. Cooking my dinner.” When she stood there, gawking at him, he added, “If nothing else, consider it hazard pay.”

Her face went bright red. “Ohmigosh! I was just helping out! Being a good neighbor! I c-can't.”

She said, eying the money like it was a candy bar and she'd given up chocolate for Lent.

“And I'm sure you don't want to make me feel bad, like I took advantage of you. Please, Jewel. Take the money.”

Her gaze flicked from the money to him, then back to the money. “You sure? I mean…maybe we could come to some sort of other arrangement.” When his brows lifted, she said, “Like you helping me with my taxes or something.”

Which, since he doubted she had pension plans and investments and the like to sort through, would probably take
him ten minutes. Tops. He got up, scooped the bills off the counter and walked over to her, pressing the money into her palm, and her hand was warm and soft and strong all at once and he liked the feel of it in his way too much. Sad. “Doing your taxes is a given. Now get out of here before Patrice wakes the entire town with her horn honking.”

For a long moment, their gazes tangled. Damned if he didn't like that way too much, too. Which was even sadder. “You're nuts, you know that?” she said with a little smile, stuffing the cash in her pocket. Then she yanked open his front door and fled.

No kidding,
he thought, locking the door behind her, closing his eyes for a moment to embrace the peace left in her wake before yielding to the temptation to eat another cookie.

Or two.

 

Why Jewel'd resisted letting Silas pay her, she had no idea. Wasn't like she couldn't use it. In fact, she could squeeze two weeks' worth of groceries out of forty bucks. If she was careful. Especially since a lot of Patrice's clients paid in produce and homemade canned goods, and Patrice shared.

Although, she mused when her mentor dropped her off back at Eli's after their appointment the next morning, and she picked up the mail and there was the utilities bill sneering at her, unfortunately the gas company wasn't keen on being paid in put-by peaches, no matter how tasty they were. And she'd've still been okay if she hadn't broken her tooth last month and had had to get it capped.

She wasn't a total lamebrain, she'd socked away as much of her nurse's salary as she could, knowing she wouldn't make squat while she was doing her midwife apprentice
ship. She'd had a cushion. Only the cushion turned out to be a lot thinner than she'd thought.

At least Eli was letting her stay rent-free in his house until he was ready to sell it. Otherwise she honestly didn't know what she'd do, she thought as she dug her checkbook out of her vintage Coach bag—a thrift shop score from five years ago—and flipped open the register. But alas, the Money Fairy hadn't made a stealth deposit in the middle of the night.

Shutting her eyes against the bright fall sun, Jewel stuffed the checkbook back in her purse, so distracted and disgusted and discombobulated she didn't even notice Noah standing on her roof until he called her name. She looked up, shielding her eyes, deciding she'd really be in a bad mood if the sight of all those muscles in a black T-shirt wasn't cheering her up. “Thought you said you'd send somebody over?”

“Lost the coin toss. So where's this leak again?”

“Right in the middle of the living room. And it only happens when the rain comes from the south.”

Noah vanished and Jewel went inside, moping, listening to Noah's work boots stomp-stomp-stomping overhead. Then back. Then the sound of the metal extension ladder creaking as he climbed back down. A minute later, he knocked at the open door. Sitting at the small dining table in the kitchen, her head in her hands, Jewel looked up from the electric bill and its cousins, trying not to feel like a Grade A loser.

“Found the problem,” Noah said. “It's not supposed to rain for the rest of the week, so I'll get back to patch it up in the next day or so. Although…” He dug his fingers into the back of his neck, shaking his head. “Problem?”

“Yeah. Every time I come over to fix something, I find
another issue.” He crossed his arms. “I doubt even Eli realizes how much work the place needs. If he wants to sell it for more than two bucks, at least.”

Jewel frowned. “I'm not in any danger of the roof caving in while I sleep or anything, am I?”

“You might want to make sure your bed's under the support beam…just kidding,” he said as she sagged back in the chair. “Um…you okay?”

This said in the manner of someone facing a potential bomb. Jewel almost smiled. “Other than feeling like this house? I'm fine.” She wriggled her mouth back and forth a moment, then said, “Y'all wouldn't need some secretarial work done or anything, would you?” At his silence, she looked over. “What?”

“Jewel? I don't want to be mean or anything…but you really need to give this up.”

“Give what up?”

“You're sweet and all, but I'm not…interested.”

A laugh popped out of her mouth, only to almost immediately turn to tears. Much to her profound annoyance.

“Ah, hell, honey…I tried to let you down as easy as I knew how—”

“Oh, for heaven's sake, Noah,” she said, grabbing a napkin off the table and honking into it, “I got that message loud and clear some time ago, okay? I'm not asking if you've got work to get closer to you, I'm asking because I'm broke.”

Cautiously, Noah came farther into the house. “Really?”

“God's honest truth,” she said on a harsh breath that released a flood of words. “The thing is, it's not like I didn't know going in how tight things were gonna be for a while until I got my license. And even then delivering babies is never gonna make me rich. And basically I'm okay with
that—as long as there are thrift shops and beans and corn-bread, I'm good. Only I didn't count on breaking a tooth on a piece of hard candy, and the dentist is threatening to send the bill to collections even though I'm paying him what I can, and if I don't find a way to make some extra cash I might have to give up on being a midwife altogether. Bad enough my mother thinks it's a cockamamie idea. Oh, Noah—I can't fail, I just can't!”

She blew her nose again, then took off her glasses to wipe the lenses. “Sorry. Sometimes my emotions kinda get the best of me. What?” she said when Noah kept looking at her funny.

“Actually, I meant…” He pointed between the two of them. “You're really, um, over me?”

Wondering if the man had heard a single word she'd said, Jewel did a mental eye roll. “No offense, but worrying about starving to death kinda knocked you to the bottom of my things-to-think-about list.”

“Oh. Okay. Just checking. Because I don't do—” he made air quotes “—relationships. Not in the way that most gals mean the word, at least. I have…” His forehead puckered. “Dalliances.” A soggy,
oh-geez,
laugh burbled from Jewel's mouth. “And you think I don't…dally?”

The puckering intensified. “Do you?”

“Guess you'll never find out now. I mean, you had your chance, but…” Her shoulders bumped. “That particular window of opportunity is now closed. But I really do need a job. So could you use some extra help? I'll do anything—scrub toilets, haul trash—I'm not proud.”

Finally, he seemed to relax. “Damn, Jewel…we just hired on Luis's wife part-time. Sorry. Wish you'd said something sooner.”

“No problem,” she said, sighing. “Not your fault. Anyway. Thanks.”

He gave her a last, lost look—men were good at that—then nodded and left, the door clicking shut behind him. With a groan Jewel let her head drop onto her folded arms, hearing her mother's voice as clear as if she'd been standing right there, going on about how silly Jewel'd been to have let Justin go, that if she'd married him she wouldn't be in this mess right now.

Maybe so, Jewel thought, lifting her head. Except for the small issue of her not wanting to get married. To Justin or anybody else. Not then, not now. Maybe not ever. But at twenty-five? No way. Not when she had all these things she wanted to do. To be.

If she sometimes yearned so much for what had kept eluding her as a child she thought she'd lose her mind, she supposed that was the trade-off for the peace that came with knowing that whatever choices she made, the only person she could hurt was herself.