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Authors: Jodi Thomas

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BOOK: The Comforts of Home
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You’re okay, you know.”

Tyler didn’t think. He acted. “I do have a favor to ask if you’l al ow me.”

“I’m not a prostitute, so don’t ask,” she snapped, the anger back.

He held his hands up. “No, no, nothing like that. I was just wondering if you would be interested in fil ing in for my housekeeper for a few weeks at the funeral home. The pay is fair and there is a room off the kitchen.” When she hesitated, he added, “With a lock. Room and board are free and the housework is light, but the cooking wil keep you busy.”

“Would I have to touch any dead people?”

He smiled. “No. Though most of my employees are old, they’re stil breathing. Once in a while, Wil amina, my housekeeper, makes a simple lunch if we’re busy or it’s snowing, and she usual y keeps desserts in stock in the break room.” He was making it up as he went; Wil amina hadn’t done much cooking. “You’d buy the groceries, cook me usual y two meals a day. I’d let you know when I’m going to be out and won’t be eating in. The kitchen and quarters you could use are on the first floor with the business offices.

I live on the second floor.”

It occurred to him that he might not have always told Wil amina when he was eating out. He wondered how many times she must have cooked supper for him and he never made it in.

“I don’t know. I’d be working in a funeral home around dead people.”

“Look at it this way. Most folks die in hospitals and you just spent a week there. In four generations I don’t think one person has ever died in the Wright Funeral Home. I could show you the quarters and kitchen, and then you could decide.”

She looked tired. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to look. But if you’re not on the up-and-up, I’l make sure this whole town knows about it.”

Tyler almost told her that the whole town would know anyway. The only crime in Harmony that people seemed to get away with was exaggerating.

An hour later she’d opened every cabinet in the kitchen, examined Wil amina’s bedroom and smal sitting area, and asked a dozen questions. Final y, she agreed she’d take the job on two conditions.

“What?” he asked, stil a little unsure about hiring someone he barely knew. But, in truth, he had no idea who else would want the job. Autumn was tal , but looked frail.

No one else would probably give her a chance to work. He couldn’t help but wonder how long it had been since she’d had a good meal. Her paperwork said she was twenty-three, but the anger in her eyes almost seemed a defense masking fear, and the bruises along her arms seemed layered over time.

“I’l need a desk in my quarters,” she said, as if testing to see if he’d cal off the offer.

“Done.”

“And I want that dog to stay away from me.” She glared at Little Lady, who sat politely in the doorway leading to the front foyer. “I have no use for dogs. Don’t expect me to feed her or get up and let her in when she starts yel ing outside.” Tyler almost laughed. Little Lady would never yel . “I’l take care of the dog, but her bowl of food and water wil remain in the far corner of the kitchen.”

She looked like she was thinking about it, then final y agreed.

“I have one more question before we begin.” She braced herself as though she expected bad news.

 

He hesitated, not sure how to ask. Final y, he said simply, “How far along are you?”

“Ten weeks, I guess. Dr. Spencer told me to come in to see her next week and we’d run some tests. When I missed my period I figured I was pregnant, so I stopped drinking and started taking vitamins. When I missed another one a few days ago, I had no doubt. There was no need for the pregnancy test; I couldn’t afford it anyway.” Tyler could feel the blush crawling up his neck. He’d never discussed a woman’s period. “What about the father?”

“Not in the picture. He didn’t want a baby, or me when he found out. After he yel ed at me for a few days, his only comment was that I’d probably lose the baby sometime soon. The night before I left, I got the feeling he aimed to make sure it happened.” She looked down and added, “I told him I’d take care of it, but he said he didn’t want me having a kid and the law coming after him for child support someday. He knew I was planning to leave him as soon as I could, but I don’t think he figured I’d run. The last time he got rough, I could tel he was trying to make sure most of the blows landed in my middle. I didn’t fight back. I just took it, and then when he went to sleep, I packed what I could and left.” She glared at him. “Anything else you’re dying to know about me, Mr. Wright, or do you want more details?” Tyler closed his eyes. “No,” he said. “That was more than enough, Autumn.” He’d always thought he wanted children. He couldn’t imagine someone who wouldn’t. “I’m sorry.”

 

Autumn shook her head. “He was nothing special. Just somewhere to crash when I was down.” She hesitated. “I guess I’m nothing special either, Mr. Wright, but if you’re offering me a job, I’l do my best while I’m here.”

“I’l have Calvin help you unload, and tomorrow he’l bring a desk up from the basement. You can park your car around back. Get settled in and rest tonight and we’l talk about details in the morning over breakfast at seven.” Tyler walked over to the cabinet by the stove and pul ed out a wooden box. “There wil always be two hundred dol ars in this box. When you buy groceries, put the receipt in here and I’l replace the cash. From this point on, consider the kitchen yours. Buy what you want and cook what’s needed around here.”

She nodded and he left, wondering if the box and Autumn Smith would be in the kitchen come breakfast.

Smiling, he looked at the bright side. At least he knew she wouldn’t be taking Little Lady along with her.

After working until dark, he went out for a pizza. When he came back, he entered through the back and crossed the big kitchen. Autumn’s door was closed, and probably locked. The remains of a sandwich and an empty bowl of soup were on the counter. He grabbed a beer and headed for his office, thinking that he might have to hire someone to clean up after the housekeeper.

As always, when he turned his computer on, he checked his e-mails. For the first time since he’d taken Kate to the airport, there was a note. It said simply:
Ty:

 

Haven’t heard from you. Hope all is fine. Figure you’re
working hard.

Kate

He leaned back in his chair. Nothing personal. To his surprise, Tyler realized he hadn’t thought of Kate or worried about her al day. Maybe the way to keep the sadness away was to stay busy. When Kate came back, he’d be waiting, but until then he had to get on with life . . . and life for him was working.

THE NEXT MORNING, TYLER ENTERED THE

KITCHEN HALF expecting the money and Autumn to be gone. Instead, Autumn was standing by the stove wearing the bottoms to her jogging suit and an old T-shirt in worse condition than the rags they used to polish the hearse. Her feet were bare and her hair was pul ed back. The smel of sage sausage and French toast fil ed the room. He took a deep breath, figuring he must have been the first person to die here and had gone straight to heaven. Or else this was a dream.

“Get your juice, Mr. Wright, and have a seat. I’l serve up your breakfast.”

He did as told and was surprised when she put two plates on the kitchen table. Then she sat down across from him, her legs folded in the chair. “I don’t know how this works, so I’l make up the rules I don’t know. When you eat in the kitchen, I’l join you. If you tel me to take a meal up to your rooms, I’l put it on a tray and leave it. If you ask for it delivered to your office, I’l knock before I come in just in case you’re busy with grieving folks. Sound fair?”

“Sounds fine,” he said. When he’d finished half his breakfast, he added, “Where’d you learn to cook?”

“When I was a kid, my mom always took me with her on wheat harvest. She’d cook for thirty men three times a day.

It didn’t take me long to learn. Then she died, and my dad let the witch move in. By then I was twelve and the witch thought cooking and housecleaning were my jobs. She didn’t care if I went to school, but she sure was picky about everything being clean.” Autumn smiled. “If we’d had a fireplace for me to sit by I would have been a Cinderel a, I guess. During the days al she did was yel at me or slap me around just for the hel of it, but once my dad got home she was real sweet in front of him. Too bad no Prince Charming came along. I could have used one. When my dad died, she kicked me out and I’ve been moving from town to town ever since.”

“So, you’ve seen the world.” Tyler decided he liked not having breakfast alone. Autumn’s story was sad, but she told it with humor and an honesty he found fascinating.

“I can do pretty much everything but pick men. Some women go for the tal ones, some the wild ones, I go for the bastards. Show me a man who’l treat me bad, take any money I have, or leave me pregnant and I’l head straight toward him already puckered up for the first kiss.” She shook her head. “I’m tel ing you, Mr. Wright, it’s a real dangerous habit bringing stray sons of bitches home.” Tyler laughed. He’d never been around anyone who talked like she did. He’d never eaten a meal with the cook sitting across from him. He wasn’t sure he felt comfortable, but if she stayed around, he might get used to it.

When she smiled, she looked younger. He knew she was in her early twenties, but right now he would have guessed her age in her teens.

Standing, he said, “You need anything, just ask Beth in the office. She’l probably be in sometime today to introduce herself. Mrs. Stel a McNabb might drop by. She works in the evenings when we have someone here for viewing.”

Autumn looked worried, so he added, “They’re nice ladies. Bake them something sweet and they’l love you.

Bake the guys in the basement anything and they’l like you.

Calvin wil talk to you, but Dave never says a word. The other groundsmen come by now and then.”

“So the rule is feed anyone who walks through the kitchen?”

“That’s about it.”

She smiled for the second time. “You know, Mr. Wright, I love to cook. I think I can do this job.”

He was at the door when he turned back and added,

“No one is going to treat you badly here, Autumn. No one wil ever yel at you.” He’d never said anything like this to an employee, but he felt it needed to be said. “You’re safe here. You’ve my word.”

She looked skeptical. “We’l see.”

By ten there were hot rol s and butter in the break room, and by noon she’d made soup and corn bread for everyone. When he left to go to the bank, his bookkeeper was running off recipes for Autumn.

 

Chapter 22
SATURDAY

FEBRUARY 27

BUFFALO BAR AND GRILL

BEAU YATES LOWERED HIS HEAD SLIGHTLY SO

HIS HAIR shaded his eyes as he tried to act like he was out of his teens. He didn’t like confronting people, but this time, whatever it took, he wasn’t backing down. If he had to fight his way up, he might as wel start with Harley at the Buffalo Bar and Gril . No one in this town believed in him, but Beau knew he had a destiny and it was time he got on down the road a few steps.

“Now I’m tel ing you boys for the last time, I don’t hire underage kids to perform no matter how good they can play.” Harley Moreland leaned over the bar and yel ed at Beau and his best friend, Border Biggs. “You two look like you belong in a country-western bar about as much as earrings belong on a pig.”

“What if we play for free?” Border said. “That shouldn’t be il egal. Or, you could lock us in that cage of a stage you got and we wouldn’t actual y be in the bar.”

“Hel , that’s probably more of a crime.” Harley snorted. “I swear, just having you two clowns walk in here is probably breaking one or two laws right now. Why don’t you do us both a favor and get out. Maybe drive over to a big town and see if McDonald’s needs a band in the kiddie area.”

“But . . .” Beau started.

“Ain’t no
but
s about it, kid. Besides, I’ve already got a man hired to play tonight. He’s been coming once a month for ten years. He’s a drunk, but as long as he can stand, he can play. By nine o’clock, when the crowd gets here, it’s so loud nobody’s listening, they’re just stomping to the beat and cal ing it dancing. Some nights by midnight the dance floor looks more like drunk foreplay than waltzing.”

“We can play waltzes and ‘Cotton-Eyed Joe’ and lots of the oldies,” Beau promised. “Give us a chance.” Harley glared at Beau. “You two don’t look like you could play nothing, but when you turn twenty-one come on in. I’l serve you that first drink.”

BOOK: The Comforts of Home
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