Love Inspired May 2015 #2

by Missy Tippens

  “So, are they coming or not?”

  “Not.” Shaw faced his foreman and longtime mentor, Russ Franklin. The older man was the biggest asset to Shaw’s start-up construction company. Skilled, experienced and dedicated, Russ had owned his own company in Alabama for years. When he had sold it, Shaw had convinced him to move to Dover to work with him. “Our drywall crew took another job. They couldn’t wait on us any longer.”

  “That’s going to put us further behind.”

  “How long would it take for you and me to do the work?” It was his last resort.

  Russ frowned. “Too long. We’re way too close to the deadline as it is. You want me to find us another crew?”

  The knot in Shaw’s chest, which had formed over the past few weeks, tightened. “Yeah. Call Laura Holbrook and see if she has a few guys we could use. Or maybe she knows of another contractor we can call. I’ve used up all my contacts.”

  Russ moved off to make the calls, and Shaw planted his hands on his tool belt and scanned the large room that would be the fiction section of the new Dover Library. It would take several days to put up drywall, then tape, float and sand before they could paint. Days lost when other crews couldn’t work.

  When Russ returned, his expression was grim. “Laura doesn’t have anyone to spare at the moment, and she doesn’t know any other crews that are available.”

  Shaw rubbed his jaw. He couldn’t handle another delay. Dover had been without a library for a long time, unable to afford a new one. The donation had been a blessing to the small town and generated huge excitement from the residents. The people here had given him a home and a fresh start. He wasn’t about to let them down. Even if he had to work around the clock to get the job done.

  His cell rang and he yanked it out of his pocket, frowning when he saw the name on the screen. Dover police. “Hello.” He listened as the officer explained the situation. Shaw rubbed his forehead and nodded. “Yeah. I know her. I’ll be right there.” He hung up, his chest constricted so tightly he had trouble breathing. The last thing he needed was another complication in his life. And Lainie Hollings was a giant one.

  Hearing her name had unleashed a landslide of painful memories and a heavy dose of guilt. He’d started to deny knowing her. It would do neither one of them any good to meet again. But when the officer had told him she’d been robbed, Shaw couldn’t ignore her plight. Lainie was a widow because of his carelessness.

  A death he could have prevented. He’d double-and triple-checked her husband’s safety harness on the roof that day, only to find he’d loosened the straps again. Irritated with Hollings’s cavalier attitude, Shaw had failed to check again, and Hollings had fallen from the roof. Lainie blamed him for her husband’s death. Shaw accepted his part in the accident. He should have checked again. A dozen times if necessary. But he hadn’t.

  “Everything okay, boss?”

  Shaw looked at his foreman. Right now, nothing was okay. “I’ve got to leave. I might not be back today. Keep looking for a crew and check on the remodel on Corey Road. If we can get that job done, we can list it.”

  Russ nodded. “And what about the Hanson remodel?”

  Another problem to add to the pile. “I’ll have to push them back again.” Russ frowned and Shaw held up a hand to halt the comment he knew was coming. The Hansons were beyond irritated. If he didn’t find a way to soothe their ruffled feathers, it could get ugly. But that was the least of his worries now.

  Shaw climbed into his truck and cranked the engine, trying to figure out how he’d face Lainie Hollings. What did you say to the wife of the man you killed?

  The moment he stepped inside the police station, his attention was drawn to the dark-haired woman seated in the waiting area. His stopped in his tracks, his heart racing, the blood roaring through his ears. She was even lovelier than she’d been when he’d first seen her. That moment was indelibly etched in his mind. She’d come to the job site to bring her husband his lunch. They’d laughed and talked and shared little touches, and Shaw’s heart had grown envious.

  Lainie had caught him watching her, and he’d felt a jolt like an electrical charge through his system. She was the prettiest woman he’d ever seen. She’d looked away and that’s when the shame had tightened his throat. What was wrong with him? Admiring the wife of the man he was training was detestable. Shaw had gone back to work and vowed to keep his attraction in check.

  Realizing he was still standing in the doorway, Shaw squared his shoulders and stepped forward. Lainie was hunched in her seat watching two little girls as they scribbled on paper. Her dark brown hair was shorter now, falling in a sleek line to her shoulders. She glanced at him. In that moment, he noticed the sparkle was missing from her big brown eyes. Instead, he saw fear and anxiety. She looked fragile and alone. He was hit with a strong desire to pull her close and comfort her, but he didn’t have the right. All he could do was offer his help. His attraction had no place in this situation.

  * * *

  The door to the police station swooshed open again, but Lainie didn’t bother to look.

  Shaw wasn’t coming. She’d have to find help someplace else. Heavy footsteps on the floor drew her attention, and she looked up to see a tall, dark-haired man. He was dressed in faded jeans and a dark T-shirt with a company logo that hugged his torso in an interesting way. His sturdy, tan work boots thumped the floor as he strode toward them with a confident swagger. She started to look away only to realize who the man was. Shaw McKinney.

  She didn’t remember him looking like this. He was taller, more imposing than she remembered. His shoulders were wide enough to carry the world. Her inspection moved to his ruggedly handsome face. Navy blue eyes. Deep lines in his cheeks. His sharply angled jaw was softened by firm lips and a dimple in the center of his chin. A flicker of appreciation darted along her nerves, squelched instantly with humiliation. How Shaw McKinney looked had nothing to do with the kind of man he was. His actions had cost her everything.

  His eyes bored into her as he came closer, and there was a grim set to his jaw. Her hopes faded. He wasn’t any happier to see her than she was to see him. She shouldn’t have called him. Asking for his help was a betrayal of her husband’s memory. Natalie looked up at her with a sweet little smile, reminding her that she had to think of the girls first. She forced the nausea aside and raised her chin, clasping her trembling hands in her lap.

  “Lainie, are you all right?” He glanced at her then down at the girls, his forehead creasing in a deep frown.

  Stupid question. No, she wasn’t all right. She stood. “I’m fine. Thank you for coming. I’m sorry to bother you, but there was no one else to call.”

  “You did the right thing.” He motioned her to be seated.

  Shaw stared at the girls, a shadow seeming to pass behind his eyes. Was he feeling guilty? Good.

  Her conscience pricked, but she ignored it, sinking into the chair as her knees began to fail.

  Natalie had been two years old when Craig died. Chrissy not yet born. “Shaw, this is Natalie and Chrissy. Girls, this is Mr. McKinney. He—” What did she say? He’s the reason you don’t have a daddy? “Is someone we knew a long time ago.”

  Shaw sat, leaving an empty chair between them. “Tell me what happened. The officer who called said you’d been robbed.”

  She nodded. “We were leaving the restaurant and as I was getting into the car a man waved a gun at me, grabbed my purse and ran off. It all happened so fast I couldn’t even react.”

  His gaze landed briefly on both the girls and he set his jaw. “How did you know I was here?”

  Lainie set Chrissy on her lap, taking strength from the little body. “I saw your business card at the diner. It had your partner’s name on it so I wasn’t certain it was you.”

  “Partner?”

  “Yes. Someone named Gawdchalks?”

>   Shaw shook his head. “Goudchaux is my first name. It’s pronounced God-shaw. My mother was Cajun French. When I started my business, I thought it sounded more professional, but all it did was confuse people so I went back to Shaw.” He met her eyes. “I’m sorry this had to happen to you.”

  She ran her hand along Chrissy’s ponytail. Tears welled behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall in front of this man. “He took everything. My phone, my credit cards. Everything important was in my purse.” She gulped in a breath of air. The thought of replacing all her information was overwhelming. “I have to close my accounts, contact my bank, but I don’t have a phone, I don’t know the numbers.”

  A warm hand rested upon hers, helping her focus and draining away the panic that was building in her chest. She took a deep breath, then remembered whose hand was touching her. She pulled away.

  “It’s okay. We’ll get it all taken care of.” Shaw rested his arms on his thighs. “What are you doing here in Dover?”

  Lainie glanced away. It felt wrong confiding in him, telling him about her life. “I’m the new librarian. I’m supposed to start work this Thursday. We came to look for a place to live.”

  Shaw’s eyes narrowed and a deep crease folded his forehead. He glanced around the room as a group of police officers strode through talking loudly. “Do you have a place to stay?”

  “No. I was going to find a hotel after lunch.”

  Shaw touched his jaw. “The hotel has been closed for years. There are only two places here in Dover. The Dixiana Motor Lodge is nice, but they have very small rooms. I doubt the three of you would be comfortable. The Lady Banks Inn is a bed-and-breakfast, but it’s pricey and filled with antiques.”

  Lainie sighed. Visions of trying to keep two energetic little girls from breaking a house full of priceless furniture and knickknacks made her head ache.

  “Come on.” Shaw stood. “You can stay at my place until you get things sorted out.”

  “Your place?” The thought sent a jolt of anxiety along her nerves. She was not going anywhere with this man. “Absolutely not.”

  Shaw’s eyes darkened. “Then tell me what you want me to do. If it’s money you need, tell me how much.”

  Embarrassment heated her cheeks. “No. That’s not why I called you.” Taking money from this man was out of the question. Not to mention demeaning. Clearly, she hadn’t thought things through. How had this happened? Now she was committed to taking help from Shaw. She searched frantically for an alternative only to come to the realization there was no other choice. She and the girls would stay with him. She nodded, unable to find her voice.

  “My truck is right outside.”

  She stood. “I’d better take my car. It’ll be easier than trying to move the car seats. I can drive. The police gave me a temporary driver’s license.” She looked around on the nearby seats for her purse. Her heart sank. No purse. No things. The shoulder on which she always draped her bulky purse felt empty. Shoving the coloring pages into her pocket, she took the girls’ hands and started walking, acutely aware of Shaw right behind her.

  The early June sun had sent the temperature into the midnineties, creating waves of heat that rose from the pavement in the parking lot. Lainie swallowed and wiped her brow. Shaw stood nearby as she helped the girls into the car and buckled them in. She stepped to the driver’s door and reached for the handle. A wave of asphalt-heated air rose up and engulfed her, weakening her knees and causing her to sag against the side of the car.

  Strong arms slipped around her waist, holding her upright. They turned her around and into a wall of warm strength and safety. No longer able to contain her emotions, she gave in to tears, sobbing against Shaw’s chest. She wanted to stay here forever. It felt good to have someone to lean on. The weight of single parenthood grew heavy at times. But then, like a cold wave on the shore, reality crashed over her. She pushed back, horrified to see she’d clutched his shirt in her fist. She avoided his eyes. “Sorry.” She reached for the car door, but Shaw stopped her before she could open it.

  “You’re in no condition to drive.”

  “I’m fine. I can take care of myself.” She shot him a withering glance. “I’ve been doing it for a long time now.” She sensed Shaw recoil.

  “I’m well aware of that. But right now I’m taking care of things.” He walked her around to the other side of the car and eased her inside. “Give me your keys.”

  “What about your truck?”

  “I’ll get it later.”

  Lainie leaned back in the passenger seat, too tired and weak to resist. She hated feeling helpless, but there was nothing she could do for the time being. Turning her head away from Shaw, she tried to ignore him. It wasn’t easy. He took up a lot of space in her small car. She stole a quick glance as he adjusted the seat farther back to accommodate his long legs. He looked uncomfortable in her compact car, but she could easily see him in the cab of a sturdy pickup.

  “Are we going home, Mommy?”

  “No, Natalie. We’re going to Mr. Shaw’s house. It won’t take long to get there.”

  Turning her attention to the window again, she allowed the sights outside to temporarily distract her. Dover was a charming town. With its courthouse park and streets lined with picturesque buildings, it was the kind of place she’d dreamed of raising her children. A community of love and support with friendly neighbors, and people who took care of one another. She was going to like it here once she got past the unpleasant welcome.

  A few blocks beyond the square, Shaw turned onto a street in an older neighborhood. Large Victorian homes with manicured lawns and full-grown trees brought a small smile to Lainie’s lips. She’d always had a fondness for gingerbread houses. To her, they represented home, family, permanence—all the things she wanted for her girls and never had herself.

  Shaw slowed the car and pulled into a driveway. Lainie scanned the facade, disappointed at what she saw. Unlike the other lovely homes on the street, this house was in need of love and attention. The paint on the Queen Anne Victorian was faded. The turret rising up on the left side of the house was elegant, but the finial at the top was bent in half. The roof was missing several tiles. Many of the spindles on the front porch railing were gone.

  Shaw shut off the engine and handed her back her keys. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”

  Home? The word sent a cold splash of reality over her nerves. She could not under any circumstances stay in this man’s house. What had she been thinking? “Maybe you’d better take us back to town. Is there a homeless shelter here?”

  Shaw shifted in his seat to look at her. “Do you really want to do that? This house is a duplex, Lainie. The former owner had divided it up years ago. You’ll have your own space. The yard is fenced so it’s safe for your kids. It’s temporary. Until you can get your documents replaced. Please. I can’t let you go to a shelter.”

  He was right. She was here for only a short while. Until she could replace her stolen bank cards. Then she could find a place to live. Faraway from Shaw and the past. In a way, this was all his fault. He owed her that much. And she was far too tired and upset to fight another battle right now.

  Lainie reached for her purse. How many times would she do that before she remembered she didn’t have it any longer? She climbed from the car, then opened the back door to help the girls. Natalie jumped out and stared at the house. Chrissy unfastened the buckles over her chest and joined her sister.

  “Mommy, is this a castle?”

  “No, just an old house.” Aesthetically, the home was lovely. A stately two story, with wraparound porch and dripping with gingerbread. With some work, it could be the most beautiful home on the street.

  She steered the girls to the front steps, noting the spacious porch was perfect for wicker furniture. Large ferns stood in corners. A weather-beaten swing hung at the far end
, beckoning her to sit and relax.

  Lainie followed Shaw into the spacious main hall, her gaze taking in the high ceilings and the stately staircase rising to the second floor. The inlaid wood floors were dark from years of neglect, making it hard to discern the pattern. The wide center hall stretched to the rear of the home. To the right were two large pocket doors partially open to reveal an empty room, probably the original parlor. On the other side of the entrance was a thick, unattractive door with a sturdy lock.

  “I’ll be right back.” Shaw disappeared behind the staircase.

  “I want to climb the stairs.” Natalie pointed to the elegant stairway with stately newel posts and carved spindles below a wide smooth banister.

  “Not right now, sweetie.”

  Lainie’s gaze drifted from the exquisitely carved stairs on one side of the hall to the wall on the other. Two crudely constructed sections stood out like an ugly patch on a pretty face. She guessed the additions had something to do with covering up old doors and sealing off that side of the home. The house had an odd, schizophrenic feel to it. One side grand and stately, the other run-down and hopeless.

  “Mommy are we going to live in this castle?”

  “For a little bit. Mr. Shaw is going to help us until—” How did she explain to young children the predicament she was in without alarming them? And how did she keep her own fears under control? “Until I can get a new purse.”

  A loud bark shattered the silence. A black-and-white blur darted from behind the stairs and charged at them. Natalie screamed. Chrissy stood still, clenching her little hands into fists at her side. Lainie’s heart pounded violently as a large dog barreled down on the children. She pulled her girls close shielding them with her arms.