by Dana Wayne
“Get someone to swap with you.”
“I can’t.”
The arrival of her landlord, Tom Jenkins, who took the table behind and to the left of where the two men sat, ended the discussion. All thoughts of dates or male companions vanished in a cloud of anxiety-ridden mental dust. Please don’t mention the rent right now. Not where they might hear.
“Afternoon, Ms. Ward,” said the older man. “How are you today?”
She clutched the menu tightly to her chest. “I’m fine, sir. And you?”
“Cold weather is hard on these old bones, but otherwise doing good.”
“Do you need a menu?”
“No, just some coffee and a piece of pecan pie.” He looked toward the two men at the counter. “Howdy, Max, Cade.”
Cade looked at the newcomer. “How’s the world of real estate today, Tom?”
The two men entered into a casual discussion of the ins and outs of real estate, and Sky breathed a sigh of relief. For now.
“I got the pipes wrapped,” said Max as she refilled his coffee. “And fixed a loose step on the back.”
From the corner of her eye, she noted Cade’s head jerk back toward her. “Thank you, Max, but you didn’t have to do the step, too.”
He shrugged. “No big deal. Maddie helped.” He sipped his coffee and added, “Gail said it was okay for her come over.” One corner of his mouth turned up in what sufficed as a smile. “Besides, I needed to earn my next batch of cookies.”
“I hope she didn’t pester you too much. She can be a bit… inquisitive.”
Dark, haunted eyes met hers, and for a moment, time stopped. Something flashed between them, an almost imperceptible moment of connection. Emotions, tangled and fleeting, bombarded her. Pain, fear, hope, resignation. And in the blink of an eye, it was gone.
He rose and placed some money on the counter. “No problem. She’s a good kid. I’ll see you later.”
Before she could recover enough to breathe again, he was out the door.
“How do you know Max?”
Cade’s curt question drew her back from the edge. “He’s my neighbor.”
“Evidently a good one.”
The tone of his voice perturbed her, and she turned toward him
He pushed the coffee cup forward to refill. “Just be careful around him.”
Immediately, her ire ignited. “Excuse me?”
He held both hands up in a take-it-easy gesture. “I just know he’s had a hard time since he got back. Guys like him…”
“Guys like him?” She planted one hand on her hip. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Pale cheeks showing a tinge of red, Cade continued. “Look, I’m not trying to get in your kitchen—”
“You could have fooled me.”
“I’m just saying you should be careful around him. Especially with the kid. He’s a loose cannon.”
“How do you know that?”
He picked up his cup and blew across the top. “Went to high school with him. Always had a chip on his shoulder, begging someone to knock it off.”
And I bet you were in line to try.
“He’s bad news. Stay away from him.”
She bristled and was saved from embarrassing herself when Mr. Jenkins rose and headed for the register. Jaw clamped tight, she plopped the coffee pot on the burner and went to take his money.
“I do believe Ruby makes the best pecan pie in the county.” The older man’s eyes were sincere and kind. “But don’t tell my Ethel I said so.”
Forcing a calmness she didn’t really feel, she smiled. “Your secret is safe with me.”
He placed money on the counter, and she handed him his change.
She glanced around, then lowered her voice. “I’ll have the rent money next week, Mr. Jenkins.”
He nodded, then stopped in the process of turning toward the door. “Max is one of the good ones,” he said softly, then walked out before she could reply.
Max cursed himself for seven kinds of a fool as he drove back to the auto parts store. He’d had a delivery to make and, on a whim, stopped by the diner. Sky appeared glad to see him, and when she smiled, he all but lost the ability to speak. Maddie’s assertion that he would be a suitable male companion for her mother weighed on his mind. He struggled with the desire to get to know her better, hashing out the pros and cons but unable to take that next step. What if it turned out to be a disastrous mistake for all of them? After a lot of soul searching, what-ifs, and maybes, he talked himself into exploring the possibility.
And then Cade Jackson showed up.
He owned the local hardware store and looked every inch the Texas cowboy. From his dark Stetson hat and starched white shirt to his faded jeans and snakeskin boots, he commanded attention. Tough, lean, and sinewy, he certainly looked the part, though Max doubted he’d ever been on the back of a horse in his life. Three inches shorter than Max, he was still an imposing figure.
And he’d been a thorn in Max’s side since high school.
Some folks, Cade more so than anyone, considered him a ladies’ man, and Max knew he was attractive and unscrupulous enough to go after any woman he wanted.
Apparently, he’d set his cap for Skylar.
“Not this time, asshole,” he muttered as he went back to work. “Not this time.”
Sky pulled into the drive after picking up Maddie, refusing to admit how disheartened she found the absence of Max’s truck. It was Saturday night. Unlike her, he probably had a life.
“Miss Gail let me help her make some cookies today.” Despite being close to her bedtime, Maddie was full of chatter. “I told her you made some for Max when he fixed Blue, so we made him some for helping her.”
“He helped her?”
“Yes, ma’am. He wrapped her pipes and fixed a faucet.” She opened her door and got out. “I bet he could fix that leaky one in the bathroom.”
Headlights and the familiar rumble of the Ford’s powerful engine announced Max’s arrival, quelling any retort.
Maddie ran to the front of Blue and waited for him. “Hi, Max.”
He slowly rolled forward and killed the engine, abruptly filling the air with silence and opened the door. “Hey, Tink.”
Maddie looked at her mother. “That’s short for Tinkerbell.”
Silhouetted by the interior light, Max grabbed something from the other seat and slid to the ground, a sack from a local fast food restaurant clutched in his hand.
So much for him having a life.
“Evening, ma’am.” The cold air formed a vaporous fog around his mouth when he spoke.
“If you don’t mind,” said Sky as she dug in her purse for the house key. “I prefer Sky to ma’am.”
He moved the sack to his other hand. “Yes, ma’am. I mean Sky.”
Her hands were so cold, she had trouble getting the key in the lock, and then the stupid thing wouldn’t turn. Again. She needed to ask Mr. Jenkins about it.
Maddie immediately turned to Max. “I bet you can unstick it, can’t you?”
He stepped up beside Sky, jiggled the key once and handed the bag he held to Maddie. “Hang on to this for me, Tink.” He went back to his truck and pulled a tool box from behind the seat. He removed a can of something that he sprayed inside the lock. He reinserted the key and rotated it smoothly.
He twisted the knob a couple of times, sprayed the little piece that stuck inside the notch in the door, then rotated the knob again. All without saying a word.
By the time he handed her the key, Sky was chilled to the bone.
“Go on inside, ma—uh, Sky, before you freeze.”
“I need to get some stuff from the car.” She turned, and he touched her elbow. A tingle, like an electrical shock, raced up her arm, and she flinched.
Immediately, he removed his hand. “I’ll get it. Go inside.”
“In the front seat,” she managed through chattering teeth. “Two sacks.”
She went inside and flipped on the light. Next, she
lit a small gas heater against the back wall, and she and Maddie stretched their hands toward its warmth.
Max entered and placed the sacks on the counter. He walked to where Maddie stood in front of the heater, still holding his supper. He reached for the sack. “Thanks, Tink. See ya later.”
“Can you fix this leak in our bathroom, Max?”
Blood pounded in Sky’s temples as unwelcomed heat raced up her cheeks. “Maddie!”
Dark eyes, gleaming like volcanic rock and filled with a strange, faintly eager look before being quickly hooded, locked with hers. “It’s all right…Sky. I’ll check it out tomorrow and see if I can fix it.”
She couldn’t meet his gaze. “I hate to impose on you again.” Her voice dropped to an embarrassed whisper. “I can’t, I don’t…”
Max rolled the top of the sack tighter. “Do you work tomorrow?”
She nodded. “Eleven till two.”
“I’ll come over tomorrow afternoon and look at it. Probably just needs a gasket replaced.”
She couldn’t think of anything to say. “Okay. Thanks.”
“Are you going to eat all by yourself, Max?”
Maddie’s innocent question brought a fresh onslaught of heat to Sky’s face. Her daughter had more manners than she did.
“Why don’t you stay and eat with Mama. I already ate at Miss Gail’s. That way y’all won’t have to eat by yourselves.”
Max opened his mouth, but Maddie continued. “And you can look at that leak while Mama cooks her supper.” Without waiting for a reply, she took the sack from his hand and placed it on the table before leading him down the hall.
Sky stared at the empty space where Max had stood a moment before. What the hell just happened?
Max looked at the back of the child’s head as she towed him toward what he assumed was the leaky faucet. How the hell can one four-foot-tall kid completely overpower one well-trained Marine?
“Mama was going to ask Mr. Jenkins about it, but she hasn’t yet ‘cause the rent is due.”
Once again, the child’s innocent statement made him think things were strained for them, and he vowed to do what he could to help without causing Sky any more embarrassment.
“Here it is,” said Maddie, and they entered a bathroom much like his own, except this one had a pink flamingo shower curtain around the tub. “That one.”
She pointed to the fixture on the right, then stood back out of the way.
After a quick inspection and a twist of the handle, Max decided the cold-water faucet needed a new gasket. “I’ll have it fixed in a jiffy.”
His stomach rumbled when he followed the heady aroma of frying bacon to the kitchen. “I think it just needs a new gasket. Had to replace mine last week. Have what I need in the truck.” He continued toward the door, and his stomach growled again.
“I like to have breakfast for supper,” said Sky as she turned the bacon. “If your fast food will keep, I’d be happy to fix you an omelet.”
The statement came out rushed, almost in a single breath. Her low voice, soft and clear, held a slight quiver. I wonder if she knows how sexy she sounds? Max’s heart skipped a beat, and he had to clear his throat to speak. “You don’t have to go to any trouble on my account, ma’am.”
“It’s no trouble. Really.” She finally met his steady gaze, bright spots of pink on each cheek. “And it’s the least I can do for all you have done for me—us.”
“You forgot to call her Sky,” said Maddie as she motioned to a chair at the table. “You can sit here.”
“In a minute, Tink. I need to fix that leak.”
Fifteen minutes later, he reentered the kitchen. “Just as I thought. Needed a gasket replaced.”
Sky spoke over her shoulder. “Almost ready. Have a seat. Help yourself to whatever you want to drink.”
Max placed the toolbox on the floor and shifted his feet, unsure what to do. He didn’t want to impose, but damn, that bacon smelled good. And the chance to spend some time with Sky was too good to pass up.
Maddie bounced in wearing pink pajamas with I’m a Princess emblazoned on the front. “I’m going to bed now, Mama, so you and Max can talk grown-up stuff.”
He didn’t miss the quick intake of air as she bent and kissed her daughter. “Night, Munchkin. I love you.” She straightened and spun Maddie toward the door. “I’ll be in shortly to tuck you in.”
“I’m nearly eight,” she sniffed. “I can tuck myself in.”
Maddie stood in front of Max, head craned back to look at him. One index finger curled inward, beckoning him lower.
He bent down, and Maddie placed a soft kiss on his cheek. “Night, Max. Thanks for fixing the faucet. And my bike. And Blue, too.”
Before he formulated a reply, she skipped off down the hall.
He raised up and noted Sky watched closely, captivating eyes filled with a soft, inner glow, one hand pressed over her heart.
“I’m sorry if she embarrassed you, Max. Maddie is… very caring.”
Touched by the child’s unconditional acceptance, and more self-conscious than ever, he shoved his hands into his front pockets. “She’s a good kid.”
Sky didn’t appear to notice his discomfort. “Please. Sit. It’s almost ready.” She pointed to the coffee pot on the counter. “Help yourself. Milk and juice in the fridge.”
“Coffee’s good.”
“Cups are in the cabinet above the pot.”
He pulled a mug down and looked at her. “You?”
“Yes, please.” An engaging smile graced her face. “I probably drink too much of the stuff but got used to it when I worked nights.”
“Maddie said you used to be a nurse.”
One shoulder rose and fell slightly as she focused on the omelet. “Maddie was born early and had…issues when she was younger,” she said softly. “It was hard to work, keep up my CEUs, and care for her, too. Rather than let my license lapse, I went inactive when we moved here.” She filled two plates with food and carried them to the table. “I’ve been thinking about getting it reinstated.”
He filled both mugs and joined her at the table. “What does that entail?”
“I’m not sure. I know there are time limits and other stuff involved.” She sat down and picked up her coffee. “On my to-do list.”
He took that to mean off limits and changed the subject. “How long have you lived in Bakersville?”
“We moved here when Maddie was four.”
“Why here?”
She spooned more homemade hot relish onto her eggs. “A social worker at the hospital where I worked at the time recommended it. I didn’t want Maddie to grow up in Dallas. Too big. Too noisy.” Clear, observant eyes assessed him. “What about you?”
A sudden tightness in his chest made him freeze for a moment. Face devoid of emotion, he gave an inconsequential shrug. “Foster kid. Moved around a lot. Ended up here when I was fifteen.” He kept his eyes on the food, not wanting to see the pity he knew he would find in her face.
“My dad was adopted.”
Okay. That he did not expect, and he glanced up.
Eyes, a vibrant combination of green, gold, and brown, radiating life, pain, and unquenchable warmth, locked with his. “Someone literally left him on the door step of a half-way house when he was three. Luckily, he ended up with a great family who simply wanted a child to love.” She toyed with the food on her plate. “He died when I was ten. Heart attack. It was just Mom and me for most of my life.”
“Does she live around here?”
The happiness of a moment ago vanished in a heartbeat. “She died when I was nineteen.”
The thought that he caused her pain filled him with regret. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”
She straightened and met his gaze. “There are no bad memories, Max. Not really. I mean there were hard times of course, especially after the accident, but even those memories are special to me.” She paused. “I wish Maddie could have known her.” A genuine smile
banished all trace of gloom. “Talk about a spoiled rotten child.”
“I can’t see you letting that happen.”
“I probably let her get away with more than I should.”
“She’s smart as a whip,” said Max. “I sometimes have to remind myself she’s still a kid.”
Sky nodded, pride evident by the gleam in her eye. “The first thing she told me when we moved here was that it was time she learned to read.” She forked a bite of omelet, then held it close to her mouth. “I found some books and taught her.”
“She has an inquisitive nature,” said Max. “I can see her wanting to read.”
Joy bubbled in her voice. “That’s a nice way of saying she asks a lot of questions.”
“Maybe. But they’re good questions.” A cozy glow, like a subdued flame fanned to life by a breeze, grew inside him, and he relished the shared moment. “You’ve done a great job with her. I know it couldn’t have been easy.” At least you tried. Didn’t drop her off at school one day and never looked back.
Golden lashes that shadowed her cheeks jerked upward, accompanied by a timid smile. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Thankfully, she didn’t ask about his parents, though he intuitively knew she waited for him to talk. He wasn’t ready. Not yet.
Lost in their own thoughts, neither spoke for several moments. Max reached for the jar of hot stuff. “You really should market this, Sky. It’s awesome. Hot as hell but awesome.”
She managed a choking laugh. “Thanks. I’m glad you like it. It’s my mother’s recipe.”
The next hour passed quickly as they finished their meal and talked of trivial things. He insisted on helping with the dishes. Afterwards, they sat back at the table with the last of the coffee in their cups.
“Um, do you, um, have plans for Thanksgiving, Max?”