Finding Home (6 page)

Decision made. If Cindy did need help, Jarrod was too spooked by his presence to venture into enemy territory. In any case, he was no doubt passing on the news of his discovery at this very moment.

Scott walked over to the room and knocked. “Ms. Peterson, it’s Scott Walsh. May I come in?”

There was a brief murmur of subdued voices before Cindy responded. “Yes.”

He pushed the door open and rounded the privacy curtain. Her eyes were open now. Against the pallor of her skin and the white tape affixing the gauze pad to her temple her irises were an even more startling blue than he remembered.

A sudden, unexpected urge to reach out and take her hand in a comforting clasp swept over him, and he retreated a step, jamming his fingers in the front pockets of his jeans. Jarrod had beat him to it anyway. The boy had a death-grip on his mom’s hand—though it was clear Cindy was the one doing the comforting.

“I saw Jarrod as I passed the room. You look like you had a close encounter with a hard object.” He phrased the comment as an observation rather than a question. A simple
yes
or
long story
would suffice if she preferred not to share the reason for her visit to the E.R.

But she gave him the details.

“I was cleaning out a clogged gutter and the ladder tilted. I fell, hit my head on the brick garden edging and blacked out for a few seconds. When I came to Jarrod was already calling 911.” She gave her son a smile. “He’s a handy guy to have around in an emergency. No serious damage, though. The doctor thinks I have a mild concussion at worst.”

“That is, in fact, the official diagnosis.” Paul entered and grinned at Scott. “I see you made yourself at home.”

Cindy looked from one to the other. “You two know each other?”

“We go to the same church. The pastor roped us both into working on the Christmas tree lot last year, and we became well acquainted as we scraped sap off our hands.” The doctor checked over his shoulder at the activity behind him. “We’re putting all your paperwork together, along with instructions. Once all that’s done, you’ll be free to go. But give us a few minutes. The victims of a multiple-car accident are arriving as we speak. No more ladders for a while, okay?”

“Maybe forever.” As the doctor flashed a final grin and exited, Cindy brushed the fine hair off Jarrod’s forehead. “Hang in a little longer, okay, buddy?”

“Yeah.”

“So what are you doing here?” Cindy shifted her focus to Scott.

He gave her a recap of Gram’s situation. “But Paul thinks she’s just bruised. I hope he’s right. She’s had a rough year and a half. My grandfather died, she fell and broke her hip and then she had to leave her home of almost fifty years and move into assisted living. I’m not sure how many more setbacks she can take.”

Cindy’s eyes softened in empathy. “That’s a lot of trouble to deal with all at once.”

“Yeah.” He raked his fingers through his hair, considering his next move. He’d still seen no sign of a husband—and Cindy was in no condition to drive, even if her car was here instead of back in Starfish Bay. Might as well take the plunge. “Assuming Gram’s okay, she’ll go back to Seaside Gardens in their van. Do you need a ride home?”

Cindy’s lips parted slightly and she blinked. “Um...thank you, but that’s too much of an imposition. I can call a friend.”

No mention of a husband. Now Scott was more curious than ever. He opened his mouth to ask a leading question. Closed it.

Don’t push, Walsh. It’s none of your business.

“Okay. I hope you have a speedy recovery.”

“Likewise for your grandmother.”

He started to leave. Paused. If he’d missed dinner, had Cindy and Jarrod lost out on a meal, too? The blow to the head had probably killed Cindy’s appetite, but if Jarrod hadn’t eaten he must be starving.

Turning back toward the duo, he directed his question to Jarrod. “Have you had dinner?”

The boy shook his head.

“Me, neither. I’m about to track down the vending machines. Can I bring you back some peanut butter crackers or a candy bar?” He cast a rueful glance at Cindy. “I doubt they have anything more nutritious than that.”

Jarrod bit his lower lip, clearly tempted, but in the end he declined. “No, thank you.”

“Are you sure, honey? It could be a couple of hours before I can get you any food.”

“I’m sure.”

“It’s kind of you to offer.” Cindy smiled at him, and the warmth in her eyes was like a shaft of sunlight on a cold day, dissipating the chill of loneliness he’d begun to accept as his lot.

For some reason he suddenly found it difficult to breathe. “No problem. Take care.” Lifting his hand, he exited.

Time to fill the empty place in his stomach.

Too bad there wasn’t a vending machine that could fill the empty place in his heart.

* * *

“Don’t even think about it, Lindsey. Stay put. Tomorrow morning is fine.” Cindy pushed back her hair, struggling to maintain a calm, in-control tone. “I’ll call later and let you know where we’re staying. We’ll be fine.” Removing the cell phone from her ear, she pressed the end button.

“What’s wrong, Mom?” Expression anxious, Jarrod closed the space between them and laid a hand on her knee as she sat on the edge of the gurney.

“The coast road is fogged in.” Despite the pounding in her temple, she did her best to summon up a reassuring smile. “Looks like we’ll be spending the night here at a motel. They’ll probably have cable.” That was one extravagance she’d cut from their budget at home—and it was sure to appeal to Jarrod.

“Yeah? That would be cool. When can we leave?”

“Give me a minute and we’ll be all set.” She pulled her son close and laid her cheek against his fine hair. How was she going to muster the energy to deal with the logistics of summoning a cab, finding a decent motel and arranging for some food for her son? The mere thought of dealing with all that overwhelmed her.

“Excuse me again...”

At the familiar voice Cindy lifted her head and found Scott once again at the door.

“My grandmother was just released. Bruises only, I’m thankful to report. But I discovered the fog when I went out to the parking lot. I gather the coast road is socked in. I didn’t know what arrangements you made, but if the friend you called lives in Starfish Bay, I think you’re stranded.”

“I just found that out. There are plenty of motels around here, though.” A tremor shook her words, and she wondered if she looked as wan as she felt.

Apparently so, judging by the twin crevices that appeared on Scott’s brow.

He folded his arms and narrowed his eyes. “Given your head injury, it might be better to stay with friends.”

“All my friends are in Starfish Bay.” She tugged Jarrod closer and somehow managed a smile. “But I’ve got my best buddy with me. We’ll be fine.”

He watched her, as if waging an internal debate. “Look, I’m living at my grandmother’s house now. It has three bedrooms, including one with twin beds. You’re welcome to use it tonight. It would be more comfortable than a motel, and I’ve got a fridge full of food. I don’t know about Jarrod, but I’m starving.”

The man was inviting her to spend the night at his house.

Cindy took a few beats to digest that. The gesture was kind, but Scott was a stranger. She couldn’t possibly spend the night in the home of a man she’d met a mere week ago.

Could she?

She ticked off what she knew about him. He owned a reputable company, or he wouldn’t have been hired by Louis Mattson. She’d heard nothing but positive things about him from Lindsey and Genevieve. Even Clint Nolan had gone out of his way to comment favorably on him. He had a kind heart, or he wouldn’t have spent his Friday night hanging out in an emergency room with his grandmother. Plus, he was a churchgoing man, according to the doctor.

Surely it would be safe to accept.

Wouldn’t it?

As if reading her thoughts, Scott gave her a one-sided smile. “I don’t blame you for being cautious. Who knows, I could be an ax murderer.” His teasing wink dispelled any such notion. “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t I call my minister and let him put your mind at ease about my character?”

She was fading fast, and if the man was willing to let her talk to his pastor, she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“That won’t be necessary. I accept. With gratitude.” She felt Jarrod stiffen beside her, and she gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

The other side of Scott’s mouth tipped up. “Then let’s get this show on the road. Are you ready to leave?”

“Yes. I have my papers in hand.” She held up the instructions the nurse had left with her. “But are you certain you don’t want to spend the rest of the evening with your grandmother?”

“After all this excitement, she’ll be asleep five minutes after she gets back. I’ll call and check on her from the house, though. Once I explain the situation, she’ll be pleased I offered to help you out. She’s always believed that performing charitable acts is good for the soul. This will earn me some brownie points.” He flashed her a quick grin, displaying a disarming dimple. “I’m parked near the door. Are you steady enough to walk, or should we get a wheelchair?”

“The nurse already asked that. I’m fine.”

“Why don’t you take our arms at least—” he gestured to Jarrod “—just to be safe?”

The wisdom of his suggestion was apparent the instant her feet hit the floor. The room seemed to shift slightly, and she tightened her hold, feeling his muscles bunch beneath her fingers.

“Okay?”

His one-word query was laced with concern, and she lifted her chin. At this proximity, she could see the fine lines at the corner of his eyes that spoke of both sun exposure and worry, as well as the appealing flecks of gold in the depths of his green eyes.

“Ms. Peterson?”

At his prompt, warmth crept over her cheeks. “I’m fine. And since we’re taking advantage of your hospitality for the night, I think it’s time we switch to first names.”

“Fine by me.” He urged her toward the door. “There are a couple of spare toothbrushes at the house. Do you want to pick up any other toiletries on the way?”

“No.” What she wanted to do was lie down again. As soon as possible.

He seemed to read her mind. “Gram’s house isn’t far. In less than half an hour, you’ll be set for the night.”

“Sounds great.”

He didn’t talk much during the drive, and her throbbing head was grateful for the quiet.

Fifteen minutes after they left the E.R., Scott pulled into the driveway of a bungalow largely obscured by the fog that had made navigating even the lighted city streets a formidable challenge.

“Let’s get you inside and settled.” He shut off the car. “How does some soup sound?”

“Perfect.” Her stomach was empty but queasy. Soup, however, she could manage.

“Coming up in five minutes.” He rounded the car to help her out. Jarrod continued to stick close, and he shot the boy a grin. “Once we get your mom down for the night, we can rustle up some real grub. I know I have fries in the freezer—and chocolate cake for dessert. If that’s okay.” He checked with her.

“Fine. Jarrod loves fries—and chocolate. Right?” She nudged her son, who had apparently lost his voice.

“Yeah.”

She sent Scott an apology with her eyes as he fitted his key in the door that led from the attached garage to the house.

He responded with a reassuring smile. “I don’t mind a challenge.”

Grateful for his understanding, she let him lead her through the kitchen and into the hall. She had only a fleeting impression of the house, but it appeared well-kept and decorated in an understated, contemporary style she wouldn’t normally associate with an octogenarian. Nor did the colorful, impressionist watercolors on the walls fit the stereotypical image of a senior citizen’s dwelling.

Scott stopped at a door halfway down the hall and reached in to flip the light. “This used to be my sister’s room. Gram didn’t change it much. I hope it’s okay.” He inspected the furnishings as he spoke. “I haven’t been in here much since I moved back six months ago. It might be dusty.”

The twin beds were covered with patterned throws in bright colors, and several autographed pictures of show business personalities were framed on the walls. It looked like a teenager’s room.

“It’s fine—and far better than a motel. Thank you.”

“The bathroom’s right across the hall. I’ll put out some clean towels for you. While you get settled, I’ll heat the soup. Chicken and rice okay?”

“My favorite. Except for the broccoli cheddar at the Orchid.”

He smiled. “I second that.” Without prolonging the conversation, he retreated to the hall and closed the door.

As it clicked shut, Jarrod stuck his hands in his pockets and gave her a disgusted look. “Are we really going to sleep here?”

“I see you found your voice. And yes, we are.” She carefully lowered herself onto the side of the bed and closed her eyes. Bliss.

“I bet he doesn’t even have cable.”

A lecture hadn’t been on her agenda for this evening, but neither did she want Scott’s kindness repaid with surliness.