Falling Like Snowflakes (6 page)

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Authors: Denise Hunter

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BOOK: Falling Like Snowflakes
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She wavered on the threshold. “I don't think so.”

It was the closest thing he'd gotten to a yes. “Come on, where else you going to go?” He looked down at the kid, hugging his ratty blue bear and shivering. He appealed to the mother in her. “He needs someplace warm to bed down. A good breakfast in the
morning. Though with Paige, that'll probably consist of a bowl of Lucky Charms.”

The kid's eyes lit as they turned up to his mom. She didn't miss it either. Beau wondered what they'd had to eat today. No wonder she'd been so desperate for that job.

“Are you sure she won't mind?”

He held up his phone. “I'll call her right now.” He lifted his eyebrows, waiting until Eden gave a nod, then punched a button and moved toward the front door for privacy. “Don't go anywhere.”

She stared back, as cautious as a wounded animal.

“Promise?” he asked.

She nodded. It was the best he was going to get.

Chapter 6

I
think we should see if Kate wants the position,” Paige said the next morning. They were having an emergency meeting at Wicked Good Brew before church. “She needs a job and has no place to stay. It's the perfect solution.”

Beau squeezed Paige's shoulder. With Aunt Trudy due home in hours, something had to be done and quick.

“What do we even know about her?” Riley asked. “She turns up out of the blue, with nothing but the clothes on her back, breaks into the shed . . . How do we know she won't drug Aunt Trudy and make off with all our stuff?”

“She's got a kid, Riley,” Paige said. “What do you want to do, turn them out on the street?”

“She may not even want the position.”

Beau emptied his cup. “She won't turn it down.”

“Riley's got a point,” Zac said. “We need to check her references at least.”

“A background check wouldn't hurt.” Riley looked Beau's way. “I'm sure you can get that done.”

Yeah, that wasn't going to happen by two o'clock. “So are we all in agreement?”

Paige and Zac nodded.

Riley gave a shrug and half nod. “This is going to cost us.”

“You can factor the room at my house into her pay if you want. It's just sitting empty, and God knows I could use more estrogen around here.”

Beau gave Paige a grateful smile. “All right then. I'll swing by your place and talk to her. I might be late to church.”

Eden woke with a start. She lay still until her surroundings made sense. Beau Callahan's girlfriend. The morning sunlight streamed in through the sheer blue curtains, washing over Micah's face. He was beside her on the bed, one knee popped out to the side, Boo Bear smashed between his chest and the mattress.

It was Sunday. She longed to walk down to the chapel she'd seen in town and sit in the pews among the congregation.

Memories of last night surfaced. Beau's image popped to mind. He was an interesting man. As a website designer, her forte was designing a site to suit the company's personality. She rarely missed. As she got to know people, she tended to identify them in terms of the colors she might use if she were designing their personal website.

She barely knew Beau, but she already saw him as blue. Loyal, reliable, protective. His confidence might inspire the use of white as an accent color and perhaps a dash of yellow to complement what she suspected was a strong bent toward independence.

The doorbell rang and Eden jumped, clutching the sheet in her hands.

Bad guys don't ring the doorbell, stupid.

Besides, she'd been so careful to cover their tracks. They'd changed taxis twice before they'd bought the car, and they'd altered their appearance each time, just as Marshals Walter and Brown had instructed. Langley wouldn't find them here.

Please, God.

The doorbell rang again, and she realized Paige had probably already left for church. She eased from the bed, quickly but quietly, hoping she wouldn't wake Micah.

She padded barefoot down the hallway, conscious of the borrowed yoga pants and skimpy tank. Paige's gray tabby cat, Dasher, jumped off the sofa and followed her to the door.

A quick peek through the peephole revealed a familiar face. She pulled the door open, crossing her arms against the cold air.

“Good morning,” she said.

Beau looked even better in the morning light. He was freshly shaved, and there were two small nicks low on his jaw, as if he might've rushed.

“Can I come in?”

She stepped aside, catching a spicy, masculine scent as he passed, then closed the door.

He rubbed his hands together as Dasher swished around his legs. “You look well rested.”

“I woke up like two seconds ago.” She tucked her short hair behind her ears, trying to smooth it, then gave up, knowing it was futile. He didn't care what she looked like. He had a girlfriend. He only felt sorry for her. She didn't have to be psychic to see the pity in his eyes.

She moved away from the door, wondering why he'd come. “Can I get you some coffee?” She grimaced. “I should probably know where the coffee's kept before I offer.”

He had a nice smile. The crease to the left of his mouth was almost, but not quite, a dimple. “No worries, I just had a cup. But the coffee's to the left of the sink if you need a caffeine fix.”

“After a warm shower, I think.”

He picked up Dasher, who immediately began purring. “So, you never said what brought you to town. You may have noticed it's not exactly tourist season.” He gave a crooked grin.

He was trying to make a joke of it, but she knew a probing question when she heard one. “We're just passing through. My car broke down.”

He picked up a ceramic nativity, looked it over, then set it back down. “Where you from?”

“Down south. All over, really. I like to travel.”

Maybe Paige had asked him to come and make sure she didn't make off with the computer or something. She'd been so kind—they both had. “I'll leave Paige a note thanking her. I'm grateful for her hospitality. And I
am
going to pay you back for the window just as soon as I—”

He waved her off. “I'm not worried about that. I was actually coming to tell you that—”

Her eyes darted to his face at the abrupt quiet. His lips had flattened.

She followed his gaze to a cluster of fresh bruises on her biceps—the remnants of their tussle in the shed.

“Aw, jeez . . .” He reached out, his fingertips brushing her skin, soft as a whisper. “Did I do that?”

Gooseflesh pebbled in the wake of his touch, at the rasp of his voice. She shrugged off his hand, self-conscious of his appraisal and her reaction to it.

“Please, it's nothing. I've had worse from wrestling around with Mi—Jack.”

Her words didn't erase the pained look on his face. It was even worse than pity.

“I am so sorry.”

She crossed her arms, effectively hiding the bruises. “I was just grateful for a warm place to sleep. Paige was so kind, and she heats up a mean bowl of soup.”

“She shared her Campbell's. She must like you.”

Maybe she did, but Eden wasn't about to take advantage of her kindness. “Well . . .” She took a step toward the hallway. “I'll just wake up Jack, and we'll be out of here in a few minutes. You can tell Paige—”

“Actually . . .” He took a step in her direction. “I was just talking with her and my brothers. We think we might have a job for you.”

Was she supposed to believe a job had come up between last night and this morning? She might be penniless and homeless, but she was no fool. She scratched her neck as heat rose into her face, hating that she couldn't afford to turn it down.

She lifted her chin, trying for a smile. “Oh yeah?”

“Our aunt Trudy's about to be released from the hospital. She fractured her leg. She lives at the farm with me and my brother Riley, and she'll need help, plus a ride into town a couple times a week for therapy. I'm busy with the tree farm—we open day after Thanksgiving. Riley works with me, and Zac—that's our other brother—he runs the Roadhouse. It's a local hangout right outside of town on the coast.”

“I stopped in there yesterday to ask about a job. I talked to one of the servers.”

“He's not hiring right now.”

“Yeah, I got that.”

“So, anyway, the job . . . She'll need help getting around, but mostly she needs to stay put. We need someone to help out for five or six weeks, through Christmas, probably. Do the chores and whatnot—cooking, cleaning, basic household stuff—and shuttle Aunt Trudy to therapy.”

It sounded like a legit job, but she sensed he was holding something back. Plus her qualifications were less than stellar. Though she'd fake her way into an accountant position at this point and be thankful for the opportunity.

“We kind of need someone soon—like in a few hours. I could get your references later. Sound like something you'd want to do?”

Her mind was processing the details. Namely her lack of references, not to mention her lack of ID. Maybe they'd pay her under the table. She'd worry about that later.

“Of course. Thank you.”

He named the figure they'd be paying. “Paige said she'd be happy to let the room out to you as part of your pay—if that's agreeable. You'd have to share with your son.”

Her breath left her body. Agreeable didn't come close. A lump welled up in her throat, and she swallowed it back. “That's—that's wonderful. Really. I can't tell you how much this means.”

“Hey . . .” He shrugged. “We need a caretaker, and you need a job. The timing couldn't have been more perfect.”

Definitely blue. She blinked the sting of tears away and soaked in the warmth of his dark chocolate eyes as she realized the look she'd seen before wasn't pity at all. It was simply compassion.

Chapter 7

T
he woman, who looked to be on the doorstep of sixty, scowled up at Eden from the full-size bed in the makeshift bedroom. She had short silver hair, a narrow face, and startling blue eyes. Time had etched a network of crow's feet into their corners, but the twin commas between her sparse brows were the most pronounced lines on her face. Her leg, casted up past her knee, lay stiffly against the baby-blue sheets.

“Who's that?” Miss Trudy asked.

Beau gave Eden an apologetic smile. “Now, Aunt Trudy, that's no way to talk to our guest. She's going to be helping out around here, so you might want to play nice.”

Miss Trudy's scowl deepened. “You hired me a babysitter?”

“Don't be silly,” Beau said. “You haven't been a baby for ages. This is Kate—I just realized I don't know your last name.”

“You hired a stranger to babysit me?”

Micah melded into Eden's side at the gruff tone of her voice.

“Bennet.” Eden's face warmed under the woman's perusal. “Nice to meet you, Miss Trudy. This is my son, Jack.”

“Should keep things lively around here while I'm working,” Beau said.

“Perfect. Bed rest, pain, and a noisy boy around. Just what the doctor ordered.”

Beau shot Eden a chagrined look. “Her bark's worse than her bite.”

“And she's right here in the room. Respect your elders, Beau Callahan.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He looked down at Micah. “We have some old toys in the attic. I'll bring them down for you. How does that sound?”

Micah blinked up at him silently. Beau's eyes toggled up to Eden.

She rubbed Micah's tousled curls affectionately. “He hasn't been speaking lately.”

“Oh, sorry,” Beau said. “I thought he was just shy.”

A moment later he led Eden and Micah from the room. Beau fetched the toys from the attic, and Micah settled in the living room with a coloring book and box of crayons.

Eden realized what Beau had been holding back from her yesterday morning. His aunt was going to be a challenge. Eden was beginning to wonder if she should have asked for hazard pay.

In the kitchen there was a sink full of dishes, and the floor needed to be swept. It was late afternoon, so her first chore would be supper. She sent up a silent prayer at the daunting task.

Beau gave a wry grin. “Sorry about that. She's usually not so cranky. Well, yeah, she actually is, but she's got a tender heart. You just have to dig awhile to find it.”

His aunt's direct manner had brought the color indigo to Eden's mind immediately. “I'm sure we'll get along fine.”

He handed her the release instructions from the hospital. “As you'll see, weight bearing is encouraged as tolerated, but she'll tolerate more than she should. You'll have to keep her from
overdoing. She's got crutches. I'm not sure how she's faring with those.”

“We'll be just fine. Mi—son broke his leg when he was three. If I can keep a three-year-old boy down, I can manage your aunt just fine.”

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