A Season for Family

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A Season for Family Page 10

by Mae Nunn


  Heath frowned and squirmed in his chair. He shifted his attention to his cup of tea and kept his eyes downcast, as if he’d taken her comment about Amos personally.

  “What about the others?” He changed the subject.

  Olivia spent the next hour sharing the lowdown on her small group of residents, but holding back anything she felt was confidential. Each person had a part-time job, paid a few dollars a day to live at Table of Hope and helped out with anything she needed when they were under her roof. Heath’s interest in her friends had a warming effect on Olivia’s spirit, as if the dancing flames in the room’s painted-on fireplace had sprung to life.

  He asked thoughtful questions, encouraged her to share stories. His self-absorption was wearing away. Heath had a caring spirit, no matter how many strings of barbed wire he’d wrapped around his life to block out the world’s touch. She knew firsthand about keeping her guard up. Some days it had been necessary to her very survival. But any form of armor eventually became inadequate once the heart was involved. She’d realized as he’d driven away in the old Chevy truck today that her heart was definitely and hopelessly involved.

  Heath watched emotions cross Olivia’s face as she spoke of the residents, people who were like family to her. She seemed clueless that somebody was passing drugs through her operation. How could she be blind to this after all she’d been through or naive in spite of what she’d accomplished?

  His cop’s voice of reason struggled for power. Maybe her innocence is by design, you lovesick idiot. Women have been deceiving men since the Garden of Eden, right?

  Olivia smiled as she spoke, her dark eyes flashing when she shared some anecdote he couldn’t hear for the thoughts churning in his head. Heath was convinced of what he’d said to Biddle. The lady was straight up, completely devoted to God and meeting the needs of others. No way would she knowingly give shelter to anyone living contrary to her mission.

  In fact, Heath was pretty sure that if she realized he’d been lying from the get-go, she’d show him the toe of her boot right now. He doubted she’d even give him the chance to admit that his motives had shifted after the first twenty-four hours. His mission was no longer focused on indicting a stranger—it was about clearing the name of the woman he’d come to care for deeply.

  “This timing couldn’t be worse,” Olivia was saying. “One more day of rounding up donations and some food club shopping would have covered us through the end of the month. With more freezing weather on the way, getting through the holiday is going to be dicey.”

  “Where, specifically, do you need to go?” Maybe she’d repeat the important parts he’d tuned out. “Can you cover everything in one day if you have my help?”

  She heaved a sigh in response. “I’m not comfortable leaving my guys by themselves when they’re still pretty weak.”

  “What about finding some more volunteers?”

  “Between getting My Brother’s Keeper to take all our clients, asking Grace Chapel to look after Velma and Erica, folks all over town hunkering down for bad weather and with the holidays coming, we’ve tapped out our emergency resources.”

  “Leave that to me.”

  “Who do you know in this town who’s willing to give us a day of their time with no notice to care for people with the flu?”

  “How about the man who convinced you to let me work off my community service?”

  “Detective Biddle?” She smiled, warming to the idea. “Now that you mention it, he did say if I needed anything to holler.”

  “Maybe he’ll send over that traffic cop who was eyeing you like a buzzard looks at a baby bunny.”

  “Oh, please.” She lowered her face but couldn’t hide the flush that kissed her collarbone and crept upward.

  “You can deny it till the cows come home, but a man knows how to spot these things,” he insisted.

  “You’re making too much out of an old friend’s kindness.”

  Heath huffed at the insistence. “Let me put it this way—if I’d been Officer Weatherford, I’d have exchanged that kindness for your phone number.”

  She glanced up, her eyes round and surprised, her lips pressed together with uncertainty. “Are you serious?”

  “Serious as global warming. I knew what he was up to so I gave him the stink eye and scared him off. You can thank me for it later.”

  “I’ll add that to the long list of things I have to repay you for some day.”

  “You don’t have to repay me for anything. But you do have to get upstairs and get some rest. Let me take care of this place tonight, okay?”

  She leaned forward on the sofa and reached for the worst excuse for boots Heath had ever seen. Nothing more than thick socks sewn over hunks of tire tread.

  “I can’t believe you paid good money for those.” He motioned toward her feet where she was pulling the black-and-white-striped things almost to her knees.

  “They were donated and it was my good fortune to have the only size 10 tug boats big enough to fill them.” She pointed a toe and admired her foot. “Much warmer and more practical than stilettos. They’re called UGGs.”

  “Well, I’d call ’em ug-ly, like that cap you wore yesterday. Those things remind me of—”

  “Let me guess,” she interrupted. “Something your mama used to wear.”

  “When she walked the dog in the rain.”

  “Then she must have been a very fashion-conscious woman.”

  “Just like you,” he teased, knowing better. Olivia’s casual style was appealing, not at all fussy. It was one more on the growing list of things that made her so attractive, that made it harder to keep reminding himself why he was here.

  “Yeah, right.” She slanted a skeptical glance his way and then exaggerated a supermodel strut toward the door. Turning in a circle she gave him a good look at her red thermal shirt and patched jeans and then she marched close enough to make him edge backward.

  “Don’t be doin’ that for Officer Weatherford, okay?”

  She stopped a couple feet in front of Heath, raised her arms slowly with hands clasped and stretched toward the ceiling. A small groan escaped as she enjoyed the motion of pulling the tension out of her muscles.

  He placed fingertips on either side of her waist, turned her around and gave her a slight push away toward the exit.

  Her fisted hands flew to her sides as she spun to face him. Her brows arched like punctuation over the confusion on her face. “Why’d you do that?”

  Was there any chance she didn’t know how she was affecting him?

  “Because if you keep prancing around in front of me, I might behave like most guys after all.”

  A sly smile slid across her lips. She took a step closer. “I don’t think so.”

  He took a step back. The heel of his shoe brushed the wall. He was as good as pinned. “Well, think again.”

  Sleek dark hair in need of a trim whisked across her eyelashes as she shook her head. “Your mama and daddy raised a gentleman, albeit a cantankerous one.”

  “And the more cantankerous I get, the more I need to have things my way.”

  “Okay, you get your way,” she huffed, giving up the playful advance. “I don’t want to end the day aggravating my favorite caregiver after all you’ve done, especially when there’s more to do tomorrow.”

  She inched away. Don’t let her go, his soul cried out. Heath covered the few feet between them, moved close enough to feel Olivia’s breathing. He slid his hands around her waist and pulled her body near, relished her warmth.

  Her eyes were wide, like shiny black jewels in a porcelain doll’s face. She settled her palms against his chest. He held his breath, afraid she’d push away. Her lips curved into a smile that touched his heart. Her fingers slid around his neck, laced behind his head and without hesitation she pulled his mouth down to accept the sweet kiss she offered.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Olivia couldn’t believe her boldness. It had to be the sheer fatigue taking over. If not for the feel
of Heath’s lips on hers, she’d suspect it was all a dream. A man hadn’t kissed her since… Well, since longer than she wanted to remember. And never like this.

  His body was warm and strong but undemanding. She’d initiated the dance and he was letting her lead. She pressed close, he pulled her tighter. She ran her fingers over his short crop of hair, he spread his palms against her waist.

  He tasted like Earl Grey, smelled of Lysol.

  He was wonderful.

  And then as unexpectedly as it began, the kiss was over.

  Heath dropped his hands to his sides and cleared his throat. She took it as an indication that he was uncomfortable and a sure sign they should call it a night.

  The awkward moment was her fault. She had to smooth it over. Olivia gave in to the nervous fit of giggles that threatened to escape. The sound bubbled past her lips.

  “Something funny?” He narrowed his eyes at her laughter.

  “I don’t know what’s come over me,” she snorted.

  His eyes widened. “It’s called delirium.”

  Heath clasped her hand in his, led her out of the big room, around the corner and through her colorful hallways. While she continued to snicker uncontrollably, he fished her door keys out of his pants pocket and unlocked her private stairwell.

  “Here.” He placed the keys in her palm. “When I finally settle down for the night it’ll be right next to this door.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Please don’t spend another night uncomfortable on my account. I only keep a watch posted at this door in case somebody needs to get inside after we’re locked up. I don’t have any security fears.”

  Not with you close by.

  Olivia checked herself before the thought turned to words. She’d been crazy to initiate that kiss, and Heath had mercifully let her off the hook without embarrassment. The last thing she needed to do was voice a comment that made her sound needy. Or worse, assuming.

  “Olivia, listen to me. You give the folks who stay under your roof far too much credit. When people are desperate, they will do desperate things.”

  “I appreciate the reminder, Heath. But I’m aware of the hazards of running a shelter. I try to use good judgment and take precautions, but I’ve learned to leave what’s beyond my ability to God. He’s my shield and my comfort. I trust Him completely.”

  She expected Heath to turn away, dismiss her statement. Instead, he seemed to be listening more closely, staring more intensely, as if her words were soaking in.

  “I’m not sure it’s wise to ever trust anyone completely.”

  She had to smile. “God’s not anyone, Heath. He’s the Creator of all things, the Alpha and the Omega. His Word endures forever.”

  “Okay.” Heath dragged out the word. Maybe she’d lost him.

  She pulled the door wide and stepped inside the lighted stairwell. She took two steps upward, hesitated and then glanced back. “Heath, something about leaving you down here by yourself just doesn’t feel right.”

  “That’s fatigue talking,” he reassured her.

  “You’ll let me know if you need anything, right?”

  “You can count on it.”

  Heath waited till he heard Olivia turn the dead bolt. He shut the security door and went to work, anxious to search the main level without interruption.

  All was quiet in the men’s dorm with Amos, Bruce and Nick in their bunks. Since Mary Sue had bid goodnight and locked the door to the women’s quarters well over an hour ago, Heath presumed she was down for the count, as well.

  He crept from room to room, closet to closet, using Olivia’s spare set of keys to explore. He found two more vacuum-sealed bags brimming with green pills—one among the laundry supplies and the other in the far corner of a staples pantry.

  At half-past midnight, Heath sat alone in the dining room, making notes of what he knew to be facts, looking for the common denominator. Olivia. She was the only one who totally made sense and his heart was heavy at the thought. If the DEA had searched Table of Hope tonight, she could be on her way to jail. Charges might not stick, but the damage would be done.

  Heath lowered his face, pressed his forehead against his palms.

  “Lord, I’ve got to find a way to protect her from this mess. Please give me some help here.”

  “I doubt I’m your first choice, but I can listen to whatever’s eatin’ on you.” A gravelly male voice ended Heath’s brief plea.

  Amos settled into the folding chair across the table. He swirled a spoon in a mug. Crackers were stacked on the edge of the saucer. “Broth,” he explained. “I gotta get somethin’ to stay inside my old body before I dry up and blow away.”

  “It’s good to see you moving under your own steam.” Heath was annoyed by the intrusion, but relieved to see Amos up and about.

  “So, tell me what’s got a heathen like you asking God for help?”

  “I wouldn’t exactly call myself a heathen.” Heath took umbrage at the description his dad had used a time or two.

  “Well, you won’t pass for a choir boy, either, so we’ll accept that you’re somewhere in the middle.”

  “Thanks.” That didn’t feel any better. “Olivia tells me you used to be a cop.”

  Amos nodded, fixed Heath with a hard stare. “You in some kinda trouble?”

  “No, but Olivia could be and I need another person who cares for her as much as I do to help me out.”

  “Name it. I love that girl.” Amos’s voice was quiet, like he was worried he’d jinx himself if he admitted his protective feelings for Olivia too loudly.

  Heath understood. He took a leap of faith.

  “Amos, I’m going against conventional wisdom to trust you with something that could get us both shot. But being an ex-cop, I think you’ll want to help out.”

  A smile deepened the crags of the old man’s face. He grunted, crumbled a cracker into his cup, picked up his spoon and motioned for Heath to get on with the story.

  The little hand on the kitchen clock was just past six when Heath glanced up to find Olivia in the doorway. The look of wonder on her face made him send up a silent prayer of thanks. He couldn’t recall even a Christmas morning that had been any more fun.

  “What is going on in here?” Her gaze roamed the room, taking in the newcomers who were preparing a hot but bland breakfast for their pitiful band of patients.

  “Olivia, this is my bride of thirty-four years, Peggy.” Biddle introduced his wife. “We’re here for today and tomorrow and the next day if you need us.”

  “My Bill won’t shy away from a job as long as somebody gives him direct orders. That’s why I’m here,” Peggy joked, sending a look of unbridled love toward her husband.

  “I can’t believe you’re willing to come in contact with flu to help us out.”

  Peggy waved away Olivia’s concern. “We take the shots every year and go about our business praying for the best. If the crud’s gonna get you, the crud’s gonna get you. And Bill never uses all his vacation days so this is a good excuse for us to spend some time together.”

  “Still…” Olivia seemed lost for words, more grateful even than Heath expected. “I don’t know how to thank you for your kindness.”

  His heart thudded as a deep color rose in her face, emotional thoughts sparkled in her eyes. If he didn’t get Olivia out of here, somebody was going to burst into tears, and that somebody was anybody’s guess. He slapped his palms together, diverting attention from the red splotches on her cheeks.

  “Everything’s covered here. Let’s go take care of the rest of your errands so we’ll be ready for Thanksgiving.”

  “Hey, Stone,” Biddle called and then tossed a set of keys. “Take our SUV. You’ll be less likely to have a flat or need a push, and the backseat is down and ready for cargo.”

  Heath raised the keys in a salute, gave Olivia a gentle push out the kitchen door and grabbed his old quilted jacket off the coat hook.

  Olivia felt like she was being courted. She sat in the wi
ndow banquette of the sidewalk café several hours later while Heath fetched their cups of espresso and decadent orders of tiramisu. It was the closest thing to a date that she’d had since college. And even then it had been a Dutch treat with some guy from grad school who couldn’t afford to pay attention, much less supersize her value meal.

  Heath amazed her at every turn; insisting on opening doors, expertly handling the borrowed SUV, following her directions without question, doing all the manual work and then insisting on taking her out to lunch.

  She watched him across the way, his expression impassive, just as it had been the first time they’d met. He was masterful at maintaining a poker face, holding any positive thoughts captive. He gave a curt nod to the cashier as she handed over his change. While he waited for the order to be prepared, he turned toward their table.

  Their eyes locked, she smiled and his face transformed, like a dark mask had fallen away. His shoulders relaxed as if he allowed himself to exhale for the first time that day. The tenseness in Heath’s jaw eased and the tightness in his lips faded. A boyish grin appeared where the flat line of his lips had been. Lips that had touched her own. Lips she could kiss forever.

  I care deeply for Heath. Her heart rattled hard, painful as she turned the thought over in her mind. But it was more and she knew it.

  Lord help me, but I love him!

  Olivia sucked in a breath and held it, afraid the admission would escape into the atmosphere along with the whoosh of air. For the first time in her adult life, she looked at a man through the eyes of love. Panic began to rise up from her core.

  Her spirit cried out, Father, do I dare hope for this relationship to have a future? Heath and I have both overcome great loss, so we’re not so different. But the way we’ve chosen to respond has our lives on rails headed in opposite directions. I don’t believe You would bring him into my life just to teach me one more lesson about letting go. Please, Lord, let my witness show Heath the joy of holding tight to You.

 

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