Amanda yearned to dive back under the covers with Chloe, but she couldn’t until the man left. No drinking water. No toilets. She studied her daughter, who had gone quiet. That worried Amanda. Chloe always chattered nonstop, falling silent only when she was asleep. Was the child getting hypothermic even as Amanda studied her? Panic rolled over Amanda. She couldn’t think what to do. Her brain felt as frozen as the water on the kitchen floor. Eyes dull, Chloe stared at Amanda. Present physically but disconnected mentally. Amanda felt the same way.
She flinched when the front door opened behind her. Her feet had gone numb in the damp socks, and she couldn’t trust her balance as she turned to face the man. He stood well over six feet tall and looked huge in a tan jacket almost the same tawny color as his hair, cut short and lying in lazy waves over his forehead. Chiseled features, a strong jaw, and hazel eyes. Standing with his feet spread and his knees locked, he exuded strength. She’d been on the receiving end of male strength often enough to be wary, no matter what his neighbor lady said.
“I don’t want to be rude and ask personal questions,” he began, “but this is a situation that leaves me no choice. Do you have a relative or friend in the area who has a nonelectric source of heat that you can bunk with until the power is restored?”
Amanda’s mind got stuck on “nonelectric.” She stared up at him, trying to think, but her gray matter seemed to be misfiring. “Pardon?”
His gaze sharpened on her face as he repeated himself. This time Amanda heard his question, but it took her a moment to answer. “No, I’m new to Mystic Creek, and I have no family here.”
He sighed. “Well, ma’am—” He frowned. “I’m sorry. I don’t recall your name.”
“Amanda Banning.” At least I remember that.
“Well, Ms. Banning, I’ve got to get you out of here to someplace with heat. You and your little girl can’t stay here.” He planted his fists on his hips, letting her know that he didn’t plan to take no for an answer. “If you have no friends or family in town, your only option is to stay at a motel or B and B with a backup generator.”
Amanda couldn’t afford a motel room, not even for one night. She and Chloe would have to find another rental unless her landlord responded to her calls and paid for repairs. This house was no longer livable.
“I don’t have the money for a motel.” Amanda’s voice sounded hollow even to her.
“I’m sure some shelters have been set up. A lot of people have no heat, and churches with backup power have probably opened their doors. I can call the local authorities to find out where you might go.”
Amanda’s heart skipped a beat. “Authorities?”
“The sheriff’s department,” he explained.
Amanda wanted nothing to do with cops. What if the shelter made the television news and Mark saw her or Chloe’s face? No, no, no.
“I don’t think that’s a good plan,” was all she could think to say.
* * *
Jeb studied Amanda Banning in bewilderment. She’d referred to herself as being stupid in some of the notes, and right then, he couldn’t argue the point. She didn’t seem to be tracking. He shifted his gaze to her hands, which were blue with cold. Maybe her body temp had dropped too low. He glanced at the little girl and noted that her expression had gone blank. No way could he leave them here, absolutely no way.
“You can’t stay here tonight. If you can’t afford a motel, I’ll lend you some money.”
She shook her head. “I can’t accept a loan. I may not be able to pay it back.”
Jeb hesitated, then decided to jump in with both feet. “My home is large, and I have a backup generator, so you and your daughter will be warm there.” When her eyes widened, he added, “And you’ll be safe as well. In Mystic Creek, neighbors help each other out. Myrna, the lady you spoke to on the phone, lives right across the road. Her husband, Tony, is a nice fellow. It would be good for you to get to know them. Then you’d have at least three friends in town, including me. What do you say?”
She shook her head again. “You may be my neighbor, but you’re also a total stranger. I can’t even remember your name.”
“Sterling, Jeb Sterling.” He considered putting her and the child up in a motel despite her objections. He could leave her with enough cash to eat out. But that was problematic because only one of Mystic Creek’s motels had an eatery next door, and that was a pizza parlor called Wood Fyre Delights, open for only lunch and dinner. He couldn’t let them walk any distance in this weather. “Do you have a car?” he asked, as if he didn’t already know the answer. Right now wasn’t the moment to tell her he’d received at least fifty of her messages, which had revealed things about her that she wouldn’t wish him to know. She was giving him enough trouble as it was.
“No. I’m saving for one, though.”
“Well, saving for one isn’t the same as owning one. The conditions outside are treacherous. Even if I put you in a motel, you could slip and get hurt trying to reach a café. You’ll be safest at my place. My cupboards are well stocked and so is my freezer. There’ll be no shortage of food or heat.”
“I explained why that isn’t—”
Jeb cut her off. “Your only other option is to find a shelter.” He pulled his cell phone from his pants pocket and looked in his contacts for the nonemergency number to the sheriff’s office. He dialed it often to talk with his brother Barney, who was a deputy and often got desk duty. “I’ll just call and find out where I can take you.”
“No, please, don’t!”
Jeb knew why Amanda Banning wanted no contact with the authorities. She was hiding from a maniacal husband. He doubted she would be risking exposure if she went to a shelter, but he couldn’t discount the possibility entirely.
“Then you have to collect a little clothing for you and your daughter,” Jeb said, injecting firmness into his tone. “I’ll take you to my place. Yours was the last house on my route, so I can build a fire to get you both warm and throw a hot meal together.” He kept his finger poised over the nonemergency number. “This is an either-or situation, and in any case, you can’t stay here. I won’t allow it.”
Her chin came up. “We’re not your responsibility.”
“You became my responsibility the instant I walked into this freezing house.”
“I’m a full-grown woman, and I—”
“Then behave like one.” Jeb knew that was harsh, but he was past caring. “Think of your child. Look at her. Do you honestly believe she’ll survive another night here?”
Jeb broke off. As he watched her struggle to make a decision, he recalled Tony’s comment that she must be as ugly as a fence post if she had to throw messages into the wind in search of a man. Tony had guessed wrong. Jeb couldn’t see a single homely thing about her. She had beautiful brown eyes, large, expressive, and edged with thick, dark lashes. A dainty nose, straight-bridged and just right for her oval face, thrust from between her arched brows. Her mouth, soft and full, sported an upper lip defined in a perfect bow. She’d drawn her long mahogany hair back into a ponytail. With the blanket draped over her shoulders, he could see little of her figure, but he suspected her body was as lovely as her face. She wore no wedding ring, but because of her notes, he knew that she was married and trying to save money to get a divorce.
A smile twitched at the corners of Jeb’s mouth. She’d wished for a hero to keep her and her daughter safe, and she’d just hit the jackpot. She made him think of that dove he’d found frozen to death in the ice just before dawn. He’d been too late to save the bird, but he was here in the nick of time to help this woman.
* * *
Amanda remembered how the old lady on the phone, Myrna somebody, had raved about what a trustworthy man Jeb Sterling was. She had gone beyond feeling cold to a strange apathy. Sterling was right; Chloe might die tonight if Amanda insisted on staying in this house. Still, he was a big, broad-should
ered man. Being close to him frightened her. But then, after living with Mark, she’d probably be afraid of Peter Pan.
“All right,” he said. “Let me make this simple for you. You’re coming to my place for the night. I’ll cook supper while you and your daughter sit in front of the fire. If you’re worried that I’ll get out of line, I’ll invite my mom or one of my sisters over to spend the night. Then you should feel safe. This is a bad situation, and I don’t blame you for feeling wary. It’s only smart. But these conditions are deadly. Which is riskier, gambling on me or the weather?” He fiddled with his phone and then turned the face toward her. “You see that forecast? Right now, it’s twenty below, but another storm is moving in. This is going to feel warm compared to what we’re going to see later.”
“The power may come back on,” she reminded him.
“Lines are breaking everywhere. The power crews are working around the clock to restore electricity. People’s lives are at risk. But they can repair lines and transformers only so fast. Are you really willing to bet that your electricity is going to come back on?”
“All right,” she heard herself say. “I’ll get us a change of clothing.” And my money.
“Get more than one change of outfits,” he said. “Enough to last you for a few days, just in case this next storm does even more damage.”
Amanda went over to hug Chloe close. “Mommy is going to pack us an overnight bag. This nice man is taking us over to his house where we’ll be warm and safe.”
Chloe pressed her face against Amanda’s shoulder. In a whisper, she asked, “What if he’s mean like Daddy?”
Amanda’s heart panged. “Oh, sweetie, I don’t think he is.”
“You didn’t think Daddy was, either.”
“That’s true.” Amanda saw no point in denying it. She’d made a horrible mistake by marrying Mark. “But even if this man isn’t nice, we won’t be cold or hungry at his house. Mommy thinks we’ll be much safer there than we will be here.”
“Okay.” Chloe wiggled away to huddle under the covers again.
Amanda saw that Jeb Sterling stood with his tawny head bent as if he found the worn rug fascinating. She knew he’d overheard their conversation. Oh, well. Now he’d ask her dozens of questions. The thought gave her a dull headache. She stopped to fetch her still-frozen shoes, considered donning dry socks, and then decided the effort would be pointless. Once in the truck, her shoes would thaw and make her socks wet again. She didn’t have enough pairs to waste on a few minutes of comfort.
She stopped dead outside the bathroom, where a layer of ice reached into the hallway. Another broken pipe. A wave of anger at her landlord swept through her, but she was too cold to sustain it. When the storm passed and the power came back on, she’d have no choice but to move. There goes my car fund, my divorce fund, and Chloe’s first real Christmas.
Poised at the edge of the ice, she heard the chinks of Jeb’s shoe chains as he approached behind her. “I can get toiletries for you,” he offered. “If you try to walk on that, you’ll fall and bust your ass.”
Amanda shot him a startled look. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. I could have said that in a nicer way.”
Under Mark’s tutelage, Amanda had learned every filthy word known to mankind, and never once had Mark apologized. “It’s okay.” She told him where to find their toothbrushes, toothpaste, and her deodorant. When he asked where she kept her cosmetics, she replied, “I don’t wear makeup.”
He glanced sideways at her. “It’s a good thing you don’t need any, then.”
Amanda wanted to ask what he meant but decided she didn’t want to know. If he meant she was pretty, she knew better, and her question would throw up more warning flags. If he meant she was so ugly that cosmetics wouldn’t help, she’d heard it before and didn’t wish to hear it again.
While he gathered bathroom stuff, Amanda hurried through the bedrooms to collect clothing, which she stuffed in pillowcases. In short order, she met Jeb in the hallway, ready to leave with him. Hands down, it was one of the craziest things she’d ever done. She’d reclaimed her butcher knife, which she’d kept hidden under her mattress. If he tried to harm Chloe, Amanda would stab him. She would never allow anyone to hurt her baby again—never.
She heard him talking as she returned to the living room to collect her daughter. For a moment, she thought he was speaking to himself, but then she realized he had called someone on his cell phone.
“I’m wrapping it up,” he said. “I’m taking a lady and her little girl to my place for the night. How are things going for you guys?” A brief silence. Then, “Good. If you’re as tired as I am, it’s time to call it a day.”
* * *
Jeb’s truck heater had barely coughed to life when he pulled up in front of a huge post-and-timber home. Chloe, perched in the middle of the back bench seat, stared at the house as if it were a mansion.
“You live here all alone?” Amanda couldn’t resist asking.
Jeb grinned. “I had plans to get married and have a family when I built it.”
“Did your fiancée break your engagement?”
“Never engaged,” he replied. “Never even came close. The right lady hasn’t come along.” In the deepening dusk, his gaze held hers. “Now that I’ve answered a personal question, you owe me one.”
Amanda didn’t want to lie, but she also didn’t wish to appear secretive and arouse his suspicions. “What would you like to ask?”
He turned off the truck engine, opened his door to get out, which illuminated the cab, and replied, “I’m not sure yet, and I don’t want to waste my question.” He smiled back at Chloe, who was engulfed in a red parka. “I know your mom put bread sacks on your feet to keep them dry, but how would you feel about me carrying you to the house? It’s really slick out here, and I don’t want you to fall.”
Chloe sent Amanda a questioning look. In that moment, meeting her daughter’s gaze, Amanda, whose brain seemed to be working better now that she was breathing warmer air, remembered something that she’d left behind at the rental, an SD card filled with pictures of Chloe. Important, so very important. Without those photographs, she’d be powerless to protect her child from Mark when she filed for divorce. How could she have walked away without them? Calm down. Even if they couldn’t live in that awful old house again, she’d be able to get the SD card later.
Amanda was so lost in her own thoughts that it took her a moment to reassure her child. “It’s all right, sweetie. It’s very slick.”
Unbuckling her seat belt, Chloe looked at Jeb. “Okay, I guess.”
Jeb nodded. To Amanda, he said, “Sit tight. I’ll come back to help you to the porch. I don’t want you to fall, either.”
“I don’t need help.”
He arched a brow that was the same tawny color as his hair. He was a handsome man. Amanda found it amazing that he’d managed to remain single. Judging by the grandness of his house, he had money as well as good looks.
“I’m the only one wearing traction chains, so please, humor me,” he said.
Amanda watched as he carried Chloe up onto his front porch, opened the massive door, and deposited the child inside what she presumed was an entry hall. Seconds later, he returned to the truck and opened the front passenger door. Amanda unfastened her seat belt, exited the vehicle, and promptly slipped. Jeb caught her around the waist.
“Lean against me. I’ll keep us both standing.”
He took short strides so she could keep pace. Amanda didn’t like being held against his big, hard body, but she knew she’d fall if he turned her loose. It seemed to her that time went into slow motion. When she was safe on the less icy porch pavers, he finally released her.
He opened the door, revealing a frightened-looking Chloe just inside. “In you go. I’ll get your things and then build a roaring fire.”
Amanda heard the latch en
gage behind her. She rubbed her arms through her thin jacket as she inched from the huge hallway to peer at the home’s interior. To the right was a gigantic living room with a rock fireplace that took up most of one wall. Beyond was a large dining room with one of the widest tables she’d ever seen. This isn’t a house; it’s a palace.
Just then Jeb returned, his shoe chains clanking on both the outside pavers and the interior slate floor. In the warmer air, Amanda’s sense of smell sharpened, and she caught a whiff of piney cologne as he strode past her to deposit her bulging pillowcases on the gold carpet at one end of a large, dark-chocolate sofa. As promised, he immediately opened a hand-carved box and took out logs and kindling for a fire. He crouched to lay crumpled newspaper in the grate.
“Come on in. I don’t bite.”
Holding Chloe’s hand, Amanda moved into the room, feeling out of place and as nervous as a witch in Salem. She studied him as he worked, wondering how it must feel to live alone in such a big house. He moved with easy grace for a tall and muscular man, his shoulders bunching beneath the jacket, his legs taut under his denim jeans as he shifted his weight. When he lighted the paper and flames licked up through the logs, firelight danced across his face, making his hair shimmer like gold.
He pushed himself to his feet and slid a brown ottoman in front of the hearth. Then he lifted the top to withdraw a fleece blanket from an interior storage area. “You two can snuggle up and get warm while I throw a meal together. Anything special you’d like?”
Amanda drew a blank. “Anything hot.”
He laughed and shrugged out of his jacket. As he walked to a gorgeous juniper coat tree, Amanda took measure of his build, which was deceptively slender, belying the strength she’d felt when he’d stopped her from falling. He wore a blue work shirt tucked in at the waist.
Over his shoulder, he said, “You should probably put those wet shoes on the hearth to dry and put on another pair.”
Amanda realized he was speaking to her. Embarrassed to admit it, she said, “I don’t have another pair.”
Silver Thaw: A Mystic Creek Novel Page 5