by Lee McKenzie
He let the silk slip through his fingers. In spite of being soaking wet when he’d found her, she had looked stunning in this dress. Too beautiful to be marrying a jerk like Gerald Bedford.
Problem was, she didn’t have the greatest opinion of Brent Borden right now, either. It would definitely be better to give her some space and a little time, and a chance to put last night behind them.
Next time they made out—and he hoped there’d be a next time—he’d let her call the shots.
He went into his bedroom and picked up the shoes she’d left there yesterday when she’d gone in to console Max. Hands down, they were the sexiest shoes he’d ever seen. She had been carrying them when he’d picked her up so he hadn’t had the pleasure of seeing her in them. He couldn’t imagine how women walked in heels this high, but he was damned glad they’d figured it out.
Max had sure done a number on them. They weren’t the first pair of shoes he’d chewed but judging by the name of the Italian designer on the insole, they were the most expensive.
Brent sighed. He was making a mental note of the size and wondering if she’d bought them in the city or if Collingwood Station had a store that sold this kind of shoes when his cell phone rang. Before he answered, he put the shoes back in the closet and firmly closed the door so Max couldn’t get at them again.
The call was from his mother at the shelter. Another disaster, no doubt.
“Hey, Mom. What’s happening?”
“Are you at work?”
“No, I’m at home. Something came up and Nick decided we’d start the new job tomorrow.”
“I see. Well, you’ll never guess who just dropped by the shelter.”
He was not in the mood for guessing games. “You’re right,” he said. “Why don’t you save us both some time and tell me?”
“Oh, my. Somebody got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”
“Mom, don’t start with me.”
He recognized the laughter in her voice, even though he couldn’t hear it. “Leslie Durrance,” she said.
“What about her?”
“She was just here.”
Good thing his mother hadn’t made him guess because Leslie would have been one of the last people he would have named.
“Is that right?” he asked casually. “I’m sure she wanted to see Hannah and return the clothes she borrowed.”
“She said she’d wash them and bring them back tomorrow, and she didn’t just want to visit with Hannah.”
Brent sighed. His mother was enjoying this way too much. “Fine. I give up. Why was she there?”
“She took Hannah with her. Packed the woman’s things into the trunk of her Beemer and away they went.”
He had to hand it to Leslie. When she made up her mind to do something, she didn’t waste any time. “Good for her. If you ever bothered to listen to me, you would have known she’s not some spoiled rich kid.” To use his mother’s own words.
“I’ll reserve my judgment on that. Although something else interesting happened while she was here.”
“What was that?”
“It’s bad news, but Leslie offered to help.” That statement was followed by more silence.
“And the bad news would be…”
“A developer has purchased all the buildings on the block. The foundation received an eviction notice this morning. We have to be out of here in a few months.”
“How much time does that give you?”
“Till Christmas.”
“That’s not good.” He knew how much affordable real estate was available to an organization like Helping Hands. None. He also knew that his mother would go to extremes to save the shelter. “What are you going to do?” he asked cautiously, hoping she wouldn’t tell him that she was taking out a second mortgage on her house. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d suggested it, but he’d always managed to talk her out of it. This time, given the severity of the situation, he might not be able to.
“Believe it or not, Leslie offered to do some fund-raising. Says she has lots of contacts and that she’ll be able to raise a significant amount of money.”
“You just said you didn’t like her.”
“No, I didn’t. I said I’d reserve judgment.”
How was that not the same thing? “If that’s how you feel, then maybe you shouldn’t take advantage of her.” Although Leslie’s help might save his mother from financial ruin.
“I’m not. She volunteered.”
He sighed. He could hear the determination in his mother’s voice, so he hated to burst her bubble—or Leslie’s for that matter—but it was going to take a lot more than a bake sale and a raffle to cover what would certainly be a hefty rent increase for another facility. “Well, good for her, and you. I hope this works out.”
“So do I. She took Hannah to her place and is getting her settled in today. Tomorrow she and I are meeting to discuss the possibilities.”
“What time?” he asked.
“Don’t even think about it.”
“What?”
“Showing up here just so you can see her.”
“I’m working tomorrow. Why would I go to the shelter?”
“You were working on Saturday but you still ended up at the church.”
Brent sighed. There was no winning when it came to these kinds of discussions with his mother. He knew better than even to try. “I won’t be at the shelter tomorrow. If I want to see Leslie, I’ll call her.”
“And you think she’ll go out with you?”
“We’re friends. I’m not going to ask her out.” Besides, he’d rather stay in, and delivering her wedding dress and a new pair of shoes would be the perfect way to do that. “I’m sure she’ll do a great job of raising money for you, so you might want to try being a little nicer to her.”
That suggestion was met with silence, and he readied himself for a lecture. This time, she surprised him. “You know, it’s not so much her that I don’t like, but it was the way she always treated you.”
“Are you kidding me?” He’d thought this animosity stemmed from the two of them serving on the redevelopment committee together. “This is about her not going out with me in high school?”
“It’s about her thinking you weren’t good enough.”
“Mom, it wasn’t just me. Leslie didn’t date anybody in high school.” When would she have found the time? She’d been too busy paving the road to Harvard. But that didn’t change the fact that he wasn’t good enough for her—nobody was—but at least there hadn’t been any competition.
“Oh,” his mother said. “I didn’t know that.”
“Now you do, so can you ease up on her? Please?”
“I’m sorry, honey. Maybe I’ve been overreacting.”
Geez, you think? But he let her continue.
“I just don’t want to see you get hurt again.”
“Mom, I can take care of myself.”
“So, how did it go with her this weekend? Is she starting to thaw out a little?”
“Mom! Let it go.” As soon as he said it, he could sense her amusement. No matter what he tried to keep from her, his life always seemed to be an open book.
“Whatever you say, dear. Just promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Don’t rush into anything.”
It was a little late for that. “Sure thing. Listen, I’m sure you’re busy, and Max is sitting at the door.” He was actually sprawled in the sunlight streaming through the French doors, but technically it was true. “I think he needs to go for a walk.” That was an out-and-out lie, but he’d never been very good at wrapping up one of these calls from his mother.
“Okay. I’ll call you tomorrow after I meet with Leslie.” He didn’t bother to remind her that he’d be at work tomorrow. It wouldn’t stop her, anyway.
THE FIRST MORNING back in her own home and her own bed, Leslie woke to the smell of coffee.
Hannah! Obviously the woman was still an early bird.
Leslie quickly climbed out of bed and slipped into her pink silk robe and a pair of mules. She found Hannah in the kitchen, cleaning up her baking dishes.
“Good morning! You’re up early. And already hard at work, I see.”
“G’morning to you. It’s a joy to be back in such a well-stocked kitchen.” Hannah poured a cup of coffee and slid it across the island to her. “And to have someone to cook for.”
Leslie slid onto a stool and wrapped her hands around the cup. “Thank you.”
The phone rang, and they both glanced at the clock. “I’ll take that in the den,” Leslie said.
She checked the caller ID. It was her mother. “Sorry, Mother. It’s too early for this.” She waited a minute after the phone stopped ringing, then went back to the kitchen.
“I hope nothing’s wrong,” Hannah said.
“Everything’s fine. It was just someone calling to see if I’m all right. Now you have to tell me what’s in the oven,” she said, hoping her guess was correct.
“One of your favorites, if I remember.”
“They smell heavenly. No one in the world makes cinnamon buns as good as yours.”
Hannah laughed. “Here’s hoping I haven’t lost my touch.”
“That would be impossible. But you’re here as my guest, not my housekeeper. I want you to relax and take things easy.”
Hannah placed her hands on her hips. “It’s a hard-hearted girl who’d deny a poor old woman like me the pleasure of working in such a kitchen.”
Leslie laughed. “Hard-hearted? I hate to think what Colleen Borden would say if she showed up here and found you slaving over a hot stove.”
“I think she’d be happy that I have a roof over my head and a big, comfortable guest room to sleep in.”
Unless Colleen found someplace to relocate the shelter to by Christmastime, there would be a lot of people who weren’t so fortunate. But there was no sense in worrying Hannah about that. “Considering what you’ve been through in the past month, I’m thrilled to see you in such good health. We want to keep it that way.”
“And I like to keep busy. So you can do whatever it is you need to do, and I’ll cook. Nothing would make me happier.” Hannah opened the oven door and peeked inside, then reached for a pair of pot holders. “They’re done.”
Leslie smiled. She considered herself to be a good cook, but she’d never acquired Hannah’s ability to simply know when something was “done.” She took a rack out of a cupboard near the stove and set it on the counter. Hannah slid the buns onto it, and within minutes they were sitting in the breakfast nook together.
“I’m so glad we met again,” Leslie said. “It was a lucky thing that I went to the shelter with Brent the other day.”
“I say it was providence. Not that I minded being there,” Hannah was quick to add. “I’m grateful they took me in. The shelter’s a lot better than the street. It’ll be a sad day for Collingwood Station when that place has to close.”
“You heard about that?”
“Bad news always travels fast.”
Wasn’t that the truth? “Yesterday Colleen told me they have to be out of the building by Christmas, and she has no idea where they’re going to go.”
“A lot of people rely on that place. I didn’t know how many until I had to go there myself.”
“I told her I’ll do what I can to help. There are a few people I can call about finding a new building, but it sounds as though the foundation is hard up for money. I’ve been mulling over ideas for raising funds.”
“When it comes to that sort of thing, I’ll bet you’re the best there is.”
“Thanks. I wasn’t sure how Colleen would respond when I offered to help, given that she’s not all that crazy about me, but she seemed enthusiastic. I’m going over there today to discuss my ideas with her.”
“Now that you have a common goal, I’m sure the two of you will get along like a house on fire.”
“I hope you’re right.” As for getting along with Brent’s mother, Leslie decided a wait-and-see approach would be wisest. She was debating whether or not to indulge in another cinnamon bun when the doorbell rang.
Damn it. Who would come here at—she glanced at the clock—7:57? The most likely candidates were Gerald and her mother, and she wasn’t ready to see either of them. Would Gerald be likely to show up? No. Which narrowed the possibilities to one.
“Would you like me to get that?” Hannah asked.
“No!” She stood and put a hand on Hannah’s shoulder. “Thanks, but no. You’re my guest, remember? Sit and enjoy your coffee. I’ll be right back.”
She peered through the peephole in the front door and sighed. Her mother stood on the other side, every silver hair in place, looking like a sergeant major in a smog-colored business suit. Lydia Durrance was the last person in the world Leslie wanted to see right now. Make that the second-last person. If it had been Gerald standing out there, she wouldn’t dare open the door. Since it was her mother, she didn’t dare not to.
The bell rang again.
She released the dead bolt, pasted on as cheerful a smile as she could manage and swung the door open.
“Good morning, Mother. What brings you by?”
Lydia Durrance huffed her disapproval and brushed past her into the foyer, making Leslie instantly regret not stopping at good morning. “Don’t be glib, Leslie. It’s most unbecoming, especially under the circumstances.”
Leslie sighed. “I am little surprised to see you this early.”
“I came as soon as I heard you’d come out of hiding. And since you won’t return your calls, or even answer them, I had no choice but to come here. We need to talk.”
Leslie wondered, in passing, who had ratted her out. Not Nick, that’s for sure. But given that her mother had likely had her spies out searching for her, she should consider herself lucky her mother hadn’t shown up yesterday. “Would you like to come in for coffee? I should tell you that I have company. We were just finishing breakfast.”
Her mother’s narrow-eyed scrutiny made her uncomfortable. “Is it Gerald?”
“God, no! How could you even think that? Surely you must have heard—”
“I’m not interested in discussing what you think he might have done.”
“Mother, I don’t ‘think’ anything.” She lowered her voice so Hannah wouldn’t hear. “I saw him with Candice, right there in the church.”
“And it didn’t occur to you to try to work things out?”
“Work out what? Which nights he’d be home and which he’d spend with her?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. He was probably just sowing the last of his wild oats.”
Leslie could not believe what she was hearing. “Then he should have sown them before he asked me to marry him. And not with one of my former best friends.”
That seemed to thaw her mother’s icy demeanor. “I agree with you on that point. He should have known better than that.”
Surely she wasn’t suggesting that it would be okay for a husband to have an affair with a stranger? Was she implying that Leslie’s father had…
No! She had admired and respected her father more than anyone she had ever known, and at that moment she almost hated her mother for making her question his integrity.
“If you’d like to come in for coffee, I’ll be happy to discuss whatever you came to discuss…except Gerald. I have nothing to say to him or about him.”
“Who’s this guest of yours, then?”
“Hannah.”
Her mother’s shrug indicated the name meant nothing to her.
“Hannah Greene? She was your housekeeper for, oh, I don’t know, several decades. Surely you remember her.”
“Of course I do. Finding a replacement after she retired was not an easy task. She isn’t working for you, is she?”
“Of course not. I don’t need a housekeeper.” Leslie hesitated, not wanting to give her mother any of the details about her two-day hideaway with Brent. Since she
hadn’t mentioned it, Leslie felt it was safe to assume that her mother had no idea where she’d been, and she intended to keep it that way. “I discovered that her apartment building is being demolished and she had no place to go, so I invited her to stay with me for a few days. Actually, she’s welcome to stay as long as necessary.”
“How kind of you. I’m sure she appreciates your charity, but I don’t care to discuss family business in front of anyone.”
“At least come in and say hello. You can have coffee and one of Hannah’s cinnamon buns. Remember those? They’re fresh out of the oven.”
But by the time they made their way to the kitchen, Hannah had disappeared. Leslie peeked down the hallway and saw that the door to the guest room was closed. She indulged in a sly smile. Her mother might not have wanted to see Hannah, but it looked as though the feeling was mutual.
While her mother settled herself into the breakfast nook, Leslie poured her a cup of coffee and set a clean plate and a napkin on the place mat in front of her. “You really should try one of the cinnamon buns. They’re delicious.”
“Of course.” She peeked under the cloth cover that was keeping them warm. “I’ve never been able to find anyone who could make them the way Hannah did.”
“And still does,” Leslie said, gently reminding her mother that the woman wasn’t dead.
“So it seems.” She delicately wiped her fingers on the napkin and looked at Leslie. “Now, we have more important things to discuss.”
“Such as?”
“How we’re going to handle this botched wedding.” But there was no missing her unspoken question. You have to ask?
“Everything’s been taken care of. I called the country club yesterday to express my regrets. And to settle my account.” After she’d talked to Colleen Borden yesterday, she’d been mulling over ideas for the fund-raiser, so she had wanted to know if the country club had any dates open in the next few weeks.
“And the gifts?”
Leslie bit back an angry remark. “I’ll return them, of course.”
“Good.” Her mother took a bite of the pastry and nodded her approval. “These are delicious.”
“I’ll be sure to tell Hannah.”