Like a Love Song

by Camille Eide

With fumbling fingers, Joe pulled out his cell and called Jefferson-Lovett and got someone who could verify what he was reading and answer his questions in detail.

  His figures were correct.

  Joe collapsed into the armchair by the door. According to the agent’s estimated figures, just the monthly interest alone on one million would be more than enough to support John and Fiona’s monthly care and housekeeping. He didn’t have to work in the Gulf to support them. He could work and live anywhere he wanted.

  If only he could work and live here. If only the ranch weren’t—

  Joe raked fingers through his hair. He could pay off Sue’s mortgage. Keep the kids from leaving. Keep Sue from leaving. Without a mortgage, she could make her operating budget and stay afloat with ease. He could help with that too.

  He could stay on and work with the kids. He and Sue together. They could—

  Whoa.

  Thoughts whirling, Joe rose and paced the room.

  This was too much to process at once.

  He returned to the chair and fell to his knees in front of it. “Father, I don’t even know how to thank You. This is a huge answer to prayer. You answered my—” Dazed, he thumbed through the back-dated letters in the trash basket, the full weight of what had occurred sinking in.

  God had answered his prayers long ago. Joe just hadn’t been listening.

  There were so many things he could do with this kind of money. Get the ranch stocked and fully staffed. Chaz would never have to worry about being sent away again. Joe could give them stability, guidance, protection, like a—

  Like a dad. A faithful, caring dad.

  The thought struck like a sucker punch.

  What about Sue?

  Oddly enough, despite all that had happened between them, he could still see himself working alongside her, taking care of these kids, helping them gain confidence and self-respect. Raising them like a big family—together.

  With all the possibilities playing in his mind, hope zinged through his veins like a gusher blowing sky high. It was an answer to prayer.

  It had to be. Didn’t it?

  Joe closed his eyes, steeling himself for the possibility that this new dream—the dream that had been germinating in his heart from the moment he’d arrived—might not be what God had in mind.

  The Lord had already done so much—paid Joe’s sin debt, saved his life, healed him, showed him favor. Provided for him in more ways than he could count. Asking what God had in mind was the least Joe could do in return.

  “All right, Father, I’m listening. Your way, not mine.”

  * * *

  After an hour of pacing the dorm and praying, Joe sensed he was on the right track and strode across the lawn toward the house, about to bust yet still not sure what he was doing. He would help Sue save the place—that much he knew. He’d just go in there and tell her.

  His steps slowed. Tell her what? That he was paying off her mortgage? And then what? Ask her to share her home and her kids with him? Even if she cared about him more than she let on, what made him think she wanted him here permanently? Last week, she couldn’t even stick around to hear him say he loved her, much less admit any mutual feelings. What made him think she was ready to jump into a life-changing commitment?

  Marriage. Family. That’s what you mean. Admit it.

  Right. Just march in there and propose. Great plan—if he wanted to totally scare her off.

  Maybe he could save the place now, then over time, he could wear down her wall, help her conquer the fear he suspected was guarding her heart.

  He stopped at the wheelchair ramp leading into the kitchen.

  Who was he kidding? In the nearly two months he’d been here, he hadn’t succeeded in chipping a pebble from that wall.

  Joe lowered himself and sat on the ramp.

  If he paid off her mortgage, she would feel beholden to him. Even obligated. He sure didn’t want that. He didn’t want her feeling forced. Ever. Maybe he could pay off the loan anonymously. But eventually he’d have to explain why he didn’t need to leave for the Gulf. She would figure out he was the one who paid it off and feel obligated.

  Or he could wait for the auction and bid on the property anonymously with someone acting as his agent. He had a lawyer friend who could help with that. But an auction could turn into a bidding war, and he couldn’t take a chance on losing. Besides, if he waited until the auction, the kids would already be relocated, and he had to prevent that.

  He needed a plan.

  * * *

  In the dining hall Wednesday morning, Sue caught a glimpse of Joe standing in the den at the front window.

  He looked up and motioned her to him.

  As she headed his way, he settled his gaze on the window again.

  “We don’t have a Christmas tree.”

  “I know. I wasn’t planning on …” Torturing the kids with a measly Christmas just before shipping them off forever. “To be honest, I’m not much in the holiday mood.”

  “That’s okay, you’re busy, no problem. I’ve got errands to do in Bend today, so I’ll just get one. And just so you know, I won’t get back until late tonight.”

  Sue arched a brow. “Errands?”

  The corners of his mouth fought back a smile. “Just stuff. Get a new phone for John and Fiona, shopping. Stuff.”

  Shopping. And stuff. Said with a merry twinkle in his eye. Sue didn’t need another spin on the wheel to figure this puzzle out. She also knew asking him to not Christmas shop for the kids would be like asking him to not eat.

  He left right after breakfast cleanup.

  Sue rounded up all the kids and spent the day playing games, which Bertie chided her for more than once. Sue shrugged. Chores would always need to be done. If she wanted to spend her last days playing with the kids, so be it. Even so, the day passed agonizingly slow. Like a ticking clock in a quiet room, Joe’s absence kept nagging at her. But it was better this way. A taste of the way things would be after he was gone.

  Nothing good ever comes from longing.

  Later that evening, Sue got the boys settled into their bunks for the night. By the time they were quieted down enough for her to slip out for a cup of coffee, it was half-past eleven. As she reached the house, the kitchen lights blazed.

  Inside, Joe and Bertie worked to unpack groceries. A mountain of food. Turkey, stuffing, corn, rolls, onions, potatoes, whipped cream. Stacks of packages, boxes, and cans.

  The scent of fresh-cut fir filled her senses and lifted her spirits.

  Stubborn man. Stubborn, sweet man.

  Bertie turned to Sue. “Boys all settled in? I better check on the girls before you take over bed watch. Back in a few.”

  As Bertie slipped out, Joe kept unpacking food and stacking it on the island, humming “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas.”

  Sue started toting perishables to the fridge. On her second trip, she caught him looking at her over his shoulder.

  “I’ll take care of making Christmas dinner,” he said. “Don’t worry.”

  She laughed. “I’m not worried.”

  “No?” He lugged a turkey to the fridge. “Wow. And here I was, all prepared to argue my case.”

  She met him at the fridge and opened the door. “I’ve learned a few things since you’ve been here, Joe. Like getting between you and food is pointless. Possibly even dangerous.”

  Joe laughed and looked down at her, his dark eyes twinkling. “I’m going to spend some time on Christmas Eve with John and Fiona, but I’ll be back in the evening. We can have a Christmas dinner for the kids then, if that’s all right with you.”

  “Sounds good.” Her stomach growled just thinking about it. She went to the sacks, removed more perishables, and took them to the fridge.

  No one went out of his way to feed people the way Joseph Paterson did.

  When she closed the fridge door, he was standing on the other side of it. He leaned back against the counter and smiled, arms folded. He seemed relaxed, hap
py. Too happy. Probably looking forward to moving on to the new oil rig, getting back into his regular work routine. His real life.

  She tamped down a throbbing ache and turned to get more groceries. Anger rose to replace the ache, but she pushed that down too.

  “Where are you planning to go? You know, after this?” Joe asked.

  The question was cutting enough, but his jolly mood added to the sting.

  “I’ll probably stay with Layne for a little while. She wants me to move in indefinitely, but even as huge as her house is, I wouldn’t feel comfortable …” She dismissed the rest with a wave of her hand. Joe didn’t need to hear this stuff. She went back to the island to get more items for the pantry.

  Joe moved nearer, his warmth radiating behind her. “Sue?” The way he said her name made it sound deep, like he had something heavy on his mind, and she was at the root of it.

  “What?”

  He didn’t answer.

  She glanced over her shoulder and met his eyes.

  “What if things had been different? What if you weren’t losing the ranch and I weren’t leaving, if I could stick around …”

  Her heartbeat kicked up a notch. What was he doing? “That’s a whole lot of ifs, Joe.”

  He nodded but didn’t say anything, just held her gaze.

  “A lot of ifs there is no point in discussing.”

  His eyes took on a searching look. “Right. But humor me. Let’s just say … what if?”

  The question, plus his nearness, set off an avalanche of emotions she had no power to control. Those “what ifs” had become far too easy to imagine lately—probably had something to do with Joe telling her he loved her. What if he could stay? What if she weren’t losing the place? What if he could be a steady part of their lives? Part of her life? What would it be like to have a kind, honorable man as a companion, to feel loved?

  To love?

  The urge to sink into those arms threatened to do her in. She returned to the groceries. It wasn’t fair. Why was he doing this?

  Joe took another step, coming so close now that his breath moved the hair at the nape of her neck, sending a violent tingle through her. His voice deepened to a rumble. “I’m not imagining things, am I.” It wasn’t a question.

  She couldn’t answer.

  I don’t know what you imagine, but if you come one step closer, I’m going to have to either run out that door screaming or throw myself all over you.

  He was cornering her. Asking her to bare her deepest fears in a way that would leave her exposed. Vulnerable.

  She closed her eyes. When you don’t need anyone, no one can hurt you. It’s simple. No need, no hurt.

  She mustered every bit of grit she had, then turned and faced him. “I’m not the girl for you, Joe. You can do much better. And I do better alone.”

  He deepened his scrutiny. “Why?”

  The air between them stilled. She needed a break from that drilling look. She examined the ceiling. “It’s what works best for me.”

  The kitchen had gotten far too warm.

  She ducked around him and headed toward the foyer. “Goodnight, Joe.”

  As she hit the stairs, his voice trailed her. “You never did answer the question.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “It’s time, Sue.”

  Sue’s jaw clenched. She shouldn’t have answered Layne’s call. “I know.”

  “I have twelve case files and placement requests on my desk, all ready to go. You know the drill, it’s a process. Listen, hon. I understand you’re not ready—”

  “No, I’m not.” But ready or not, there they go.

  A thick pause. “But I also know you don’t want this coming down to emergency shelter care.”

  “Yes, you’re right.” Sue definitely didn’t want that. Trouble was she didn’t want anything. Actually, she wanted to chuck her phone across the kitchen and go for the kind of ride that broke all kinds of county and state laws. In a daze, she stared at the flurry of activity as the girls prepared dinner.

  Totally selfish. That’s what you are, Susan Quinn. You’re not thinking about what’s best for these kids. They’re probably better off in a place where someone thinks about what they need long-term.

  “And this close to Christmas, I need to get these requests in to the judge before the holiday break.”

  “Okay,” Sue said, rubbing her aching temples. “File the paperwork.”

  * * *

  For the next few days, Joe was on his phone a lot, speaking in low tones. Laughing. Probably making arrangements to move and meet his new rig crew. And he was singing a lot. As if he was excited about the change, looking forward to starting his new life.

  Sue kept her crew busy, sorting through clothing and deep cleaning bedrooms, even though Brandi griped about doing chores the week of Christmas. But Sue needed the activity, and the ranch needed the work. The busier, the better.

  While Jasmine and Tatiana helped Daisy fold bedding, Sue took bags of garbage to the front porch and called Joe’s cell to ask him to send a couple of boys to haul it down to the Dumpster. Her call went straight to voice mail.

  Figured—he was probably on it again, as usual.

  “Sue?” Bertie met her in the foyer, holding the office phone. “Someone calling for you. A real estate agent. I said you weren’t available, but this lady says she has an offer you may want to consider.”

  “An offer? For the ranch?”

  Bertie shrugged.

  Sue took the phone and headed toward her office. “This is Susan Quinn.”

  “Hi, Susan. Bonnie Scott with Jefferson-Lovett Realty in La Pine. Listen, I know your property isn’t listed, but I have an investor interested in a property like yours. Would you consider looking at an offer?”

  “An offer? Wait—” Sue went into her office and closed the door. “The property is in foreclosure and is scheduled for auction in a couple weeks.”

  “Right. We get foreclosure listings. My client is interested in a short sale, which could be of benefit to you both.”

  Someone wanted Juniper Ranch? Why?

  “How did your client hear about the property?”

  “Investors also get the listings. This company is searching for an institutional-residential property like yours. Would you like to see the offer?”

  Sue went to the window. The snow-dusted valley looked barren. Few people cared for the remoteness of Juniper Valley, which was one of the key reasons this place had appealed to her.

  She hadn’t considered listing the property, especially at this stage of the proceedings. She’d have to sell it for more than the balance of the loan, which, at this point, was higher than the market value, with all the added bank and legal fees. No one was likely to buy the property for what the bank needed, not to mention the extra she’d need for Realtor fees.

  But curiosity won. “I’ll take a look at it.”

  “Great. I’ll fax it over now and await your call.”

  Sue gave her fax number and hung up.

  Bertie popped in. “Well? Legit call or crackpot?”

  “I’m pretty sure that was legit. Jefferson-Lovett. Seems like I’ve seen that name a lot lately. She’s faxing an offer now.”

  Bertie guffawed. “The first of many, my guess. I bet the auction listing came out today. Vultures. They’ll start descending on us by the dozen now, trying to horn in before the bidding starts. Offering to take the property off your hands for pennies on the dollar.”

  Sue groaned. “I didn’t think about that.” She went to the fax machine as it picked up the call. When it spit out the first page, she read it. Bertie read over her shoulder as Sue waded through the information for details and an amount.

  The buyer making the offer was an investor, from the looks of it. Montgomery Enterprises, LLC. She read until she spotted the offer.

  The figure was nearly twenty thousand dollars higher than what she owed the bank.

  She gasped. That couldn’t be right.

  Berti
e whistled in her ear. “Hoo boy, not a crackpot, huh?”

  Sue handed the page to Bertie. “Read it for me and find the catch. You’re better at spotting sneaky stuff than I am.” Sue took the remaining pages from the fax. Her eye was drawn to the comment section at the bottom.

  Due to delays with other investment projects, the buyer is unable to begin renovation and preparation of the Juniper Valley property until April. If desired, the seller may remain on the property for up to ninety days, at which time the buyer will assume full possession of the property.

  Bertie held up her page. “No catch that I can see. Actually sounds legit.” She shook her head, lips pursed. “But I still don’t buy it.”

  Stunned, Sue traded pages with Bertie. “Now read that.” She pointed to the ninety-day comment and then read the amount again. Why would someone offer more than the place was worth? It made no sense.

  “Well, here’s your catch, boss. They want you to rent the place from them for ninety days. What’s the rate? Probably hefty. Wonder what that’s gonna run you for three months.”

  “I didn’t see anything about a rental rate. Did you?”

  Bertie sifted through all three pages of the fax. “Nope.”

  “Well, what should I do?”

  Bertie picked up the phone and thrust it at Sue. “If it sounds too good to be true, then it is. If it were me, I’d call that gal back and ask her what kind of imbecile does she think I am and then tell her to take a flying leap off Table Rock.”

  Sue could totally see Bertie doing just that. She took the phone. “I’ll call and see if she can explain. It doesn’t make sense, does it?”

  Bertie gave her a slow, grave head shake.

  Sue dialed and Bonnie answered. “I have a couple of questions if you can answer them.” She looked at Bertie.

  The old woman rubbed her fingertips together mouthing, “Show me the money,” then slipped out, likely to check on kids.

  “This may sound strange, but why are they offering more than the property is worth?”

  “The property suits the buyers’ needs perfectly and there are no guarantees they can win the bid if they wait for the auction.”

  That made sense, to some degree. Someone really wanted this property. Which was fine with Sue. “It also says we can stay for ninety days. What’s the rental rate? Is it monthly or by the day or what?” Depending on the amount, she might actually be able to afford it.