Mending the Widow's Heart Page 3

  In answer, he swung the door open and stepped back to let her go ahead of him. Before she had a chance to set even one foot inside, a streak of black tore through the hallway and disappeared under the plastic that was stretched across the wide staircase that led to the second floor.

  Feeling a little off-kilter in the middle of a strange house in a town she’d never visited, Holly forgot Sam was even there until he cleared his throat.

  “Hmm?” she asked.

  “I could use a hand with the door.”

  Idiot, Holly scolded herself, reaching past him to push open what was obviously a freshly repaired screen door. “Sorry. The cat spooked me, and I spaced out there for a second. I guess these should go upstairs.”

  “The two guest rooms are in the front of the house. They have the nicest views, so Daphne had me finish those first.”

  “Cool!” Chase approved, ducking under the barrier in much the same way Pandora had. As he pounded up the raw wooden steps, Holly took a moment to get a better sense of the place that Sam had such high hopes for.

  The entry must have been a grand foyer back in the day, but the cosmetic issues outside were nothing compared to the demolition that had gutted the interior. From walls to ceilings, everything had been stripped back to the studs and was in the process of being rebuilt. The wide oak planks on the floor had been sanded down to their natural state, and there were patches of various stains around the living room, as if someone was testing them for color.

  “I know it’s a mess right now,” he said, giving voice to her less-than-optimistic thought, “but I’ll have it done in time.”

  “In time for what?”

  Glancing upstairs, he went on in a muted voice. “Don’t tell anyone else ’cause it’s supposed to be a surprise, but Daphne wants to fly your whole family up here in November to celebrate Thanksgiving with her. That was before we knew how bad the termites had gotten to the timbers over the years, but she’s still set on making it happen. It’s my job to make sure you all have a nice place to stay while you’re here.”

  “That sounds like something she’d do,” Holly commented fondly. “During her acting career, she lived in big houses and adored having company. I guess now she’ll just invite everyone here instead.”

  “I’d imagine so. Could you pull that plastic back for me?”

  Holly peeled away one side of it for Sam to go through and followed him up. At the top of the stairs, he turned down a short hallway and stopped between two massive doors that looked like they were made of mahogany. One was open, and she saw Chase inside, testing the bounciness of the mattress on his bed. She nearly scolded him, then thought better of it. He’d been so great all day, a little trampoline time seemed like a good reward. At least he’d taken his shoes off before climbing on it, she noted proudly.

  Leaving him to his fun, she opened the other bedroom door for Sam, and what she saw inside made her smile. Daphne had always kept a special guest room for Holly to use during visits to Beverly Hills, and she’d duplicated it in her new house. The walls were painted a cloudy blue, and white trim around the windows framed lush green scenery that promised to be beautiful when the sun finally came out. From the four-poster bed to the chair in front of the small desk, it was all here, and Holly immediately felt like she belonged.

  Strolling in behind her, Sam set her bags inside the walk-in closet. “From the way you’re smiling, I take it I got everything right.”

  “Perfect. It feels like home.”

  “That’s what she was after, so I’m glad you approve. Have a look around while I get the rest of your stuff.”

  While he was gone, she went to the other window to see if her room looked out on more than the quiet landscape. She pulled aside a lacy curtain and discovered that she had a distant peekaboo view of the historic bridge. Now that she was finally here, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the centuries-old structure had guided her toward a better place than the one she’d recently left. Wondering what lay ahead for Chase and her, she stared out at it until she heard Sam’s boots coming up the stairs again.

  The time for daydreaming was over. Aunt Daphne was coming home soon, and Holly had a lot of work to do before then.

  * * *

  Turning away from the foggy view, Holly asked, “So, is there a tour?”

  “Sure.”

  Since he didn’t know what else to say, Sam motioned her out the door. Fortunately for him, she was the bubbly, curious type, which meant he didn’t have to do much more than answer her questions. While he took her through the house, she pressed him for all sorts of details about the rehab that was under way. The roof, the porches, the architectural touches—she was interested in it all, and Sam was only too happy to keep her talking. That accent of hers was downright hypnotizing.

  In the kitchen, she turned to him with amazement lighting those incredible eyes. “I can’t believe you’re doing this all by yourself.”

  “Actually, a couple friends come and help out when I need extra hands.” Sensing that it was time to come clean, he paused to clear his throat. “I think you should know Daphne hurt her back when she tripped on something that got left on the main stairway. It was an accident, but I feel awful about it. We all do.”

  That it had been a part-timer who’d carelessly left his toolbox where it didn’t belong didn’t matter to Sam. That he’d fired the guy on the spot was beside the point. Sam was in charge of this project, and to him that meant he was responsible for Daphne’s injury. He wasn’t crazy about having to apologize for other people’s mistakes, but he wouldn’t shirk the blame, either. Someday it might not be necessary for him to work within such a tight budget, and he’d be able to hire a skilled full-time crew. But right now he didn’t have a choice. Running a small business was tough in the best of times, and with the local economy still reeling from all kinds of setbacks, he couldn’t afford to pay the rates professional subcontractors charged.

  He held his breath, waiting to see how she’d react to the news, but Holly gave him a reassuring look. “She told me all about it. She doesn’t blame you even the tiniest bit, and neither do I. Things like that happen, and she’s going to be fine.”

  “Thanks for saying that. I appreciate it.” Now that he’d fessed up, Sam felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and he relaxed enough to be friendlier. “Come on, and I’ll show you the room we set up for Daphne to use while she’s on the mend. It has a full bath next to it, so I think it’ll work well for her. I just finished painting the trim yesterday, so it might still be tacky in spots.”

  The large back parlor had a wide bank of windows, and he’d already moved Daphne’s bedroom furniture down from the master bedroom. A huge TV was mounted over the fireplace, in clear view of the bed set up on the opposite wall. Trailing a hand over the hand-carved rosewood mantel, Holly peered out the windows that overlooked the backyard. “Wow, it’s even worse than the front. I think I saw Tarzan up in one of those trees.”

  “That’s why she got such a good deal on this place. Well, that and the termites.”

  Holly typed something on her phone and backtracked into the kitchen. Sam watched her throw open one cupboard after another, then both sides of the shiny new French door–style fridge. When she glanced up, she asked, “Why are there two bowls up there?”

  “Pandora likes to eat there. That way, she can keep an eye on everything.”

  “Seriously?” He nodded, and she laughed. “This is one spoiled cat, but I guess I better go along with it, since that’s what she’s used to.”

  When she finally reached the last cupboard, the amused look on her face told him that she’d found what she was hunting for on a bare shelf. Taking out another of Daphne’s personalized envelopes, she read the note out loud. “Get whatever you think we should have, Peaches.”

  Holly opened it, and inside were more h
undred-dollar bills than Sam had ever seen in one place. “She left you money already.”

  “That was for Chase and me, in case we need something. This—” she held up an impressive fan of Benjamins “—is for food. Totally different.”

  “Okay,” he replied, still unable to believe how much cash Daphne kept on hand. “While I’m thinking of it, you gotta tell me why she calls you Peaches.”

  Holly laughed. “It’s an old nickname. When I was little, I wouldn’t eat anything other than peaches. If Mom wanted me to try something new, she had to mix some of them in or I wouldn’t touch it. Dad started calling me Peaches, and it stuck.”

  Looking at the nearly empty shelves, he said, “Looks like you’ve got some shopping to do. Daphne mostly eats out, either on her own or with friends. She told me she can hardly work the microwave, but I figured she was kidding.”

  “No, she was totally serious. She’s a people person, and machines confound her. But we can’t take her to a restaurant for every meal in her condition, so when we spoke on the phone last week, I warned her that we’d need some groceries.”

  “I can help with that, if you want,” he blurted without thinking. Despite his earlier wariness, something about this spunky single mom made him want to step up and give her a hand. It wasn’t a date or anything, he assured himself, and he could catch up on his lengthy to-do list tomorrow. The work wasn’t going anywhere. “I’ll put away those supplies I brought and meet you out at my truck.”

  She didn’t say anything to that, and he wondered what he might have said wrong. Then it hit him that she might not be inclined to get into a stranger’s car with her son, and he amended his offer. “You can follow me out there if you’d rather do it that way.”

  Gazing up at him, she studied him for several long, uncomfortable moments. Then, to his great relief, she smiled. “Auntie D trusts you. That’s good enough for me.”

  Sam felt as if he’d just scored a touchdown, but the swift connection he’d made with this engaging woman was unsettling, so he kept it to himself. After shuttling in the new kitchen faucet and fixtures for Daphne’s bathroom, he went back to his truck. Reaching behind the seat, he grabbed a clean shirt to replace the grimy one he was wearing. The bottle of water he found underneath it wasn’t cold, but it felt good going down, and he finished it off while he waited.

  A few minutes later, Holly and Chase joined him, and he opened the passenger door for them. The boy eagerly jumped in, but Holly hung back, rewarding Sam with another of her heartwarming smiles before climbing inside. He’d counted four different versions of that expression, and he wondered how many more she had tucked away, ready to be pulled out for the right occasion. He’d just met her, and she was already drawing him in like some kind of feminine magnet.

  He really needed to get a grip, he thought as he settled into the driver’s seat. Out of necessity, he’d pulled into himself after leaving the service, unwilling to subject anyone to the turmoil of emotions that seemed to have taken up permanent residence inside him. His little sister had accused him of becoming a hermit, and while he believed her assessment was on the melodramatic side, he couldn’t deny that it wasn’t too far off the truth.

  One day, he’d be almost like his old self: confident, capable and ready to take on whatever life threw at him. And the next, he’d take an enormous step back into the mire that had dominated his perception of the world since his injuries had sent him home. The physical wounds had long since healed, but inside the scars sometimes felt as fresh as if they’d happened yesterday. He’d give anything to go back and relive that day, find some way to make it end differently.

  But he couldn’t. He regretted that more than he’d ever be able to convey, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

  Squaring his shoulders with determination, Sam put aside the past and focused on the misty view outside the windshield. Unfortunately, in the enclosed cab, he caught a whiff of Holly’s perfume. With a mental groan, he identified the flowery scent: roses. He’d always had a fondness for roses.

  “There’s a small market in town,” he explained as he headed for the highway. “But considering the fact that Daphne’s cupboards are pretty much empty, I’m thinking you need something more than a few cans of soup and a loaf of bread. Waterford has a big new grocery store that should do the trick.”

  “Oh, it’s not far, is it? It’s getting late, and I hate to take up the rest of your day.”

  “Not a problem.”

  A blossoming smile made its way across her face, reminding him of the way the sun came up over the nearby hills every morning. The poetic comparison was so unlike him, he was beginning to wonder if he was coming down with something.

  “You’re a nice guy, Sam.”

  Her sweet, no-frills compliment trickled into a part of him that had been cold and dead for so long, he’d begun to think it would stay that way. His brain was clanging a warning, but the rest of him apparently wasn’t listening because he found himself smiling back at her. “You sound surprised.”

  “I am.”

  She didn’t say anything more, but the lingering gaze she gave him before looking out the passenger window made his heart roll over in his chest. Normally cautious when it came to relationships, he wasn’t one to go all mushy over a woman the first time he met her.

  But this one had gotten to him on some level that he didn’t quite understand. One thing he knew for sure, though: he didn’t like it. Not one bit.

  Chapter Three

  The next morning, Sam was clearing equipment from the bed of his work truck when he heard the kitchen screen door of Daphne’s house quietly creak open. He knew the sound of someone sneaking out, and he peered over the unruly boxwood hedge that separated his yard from hers. “Morning.”

  Chase’s head snapped around, a guilty look on his face. “Hi.”

  There was something about this kid that really appealed to him, so Sam decided to play it cool. “Headed to work?”

  The boy grinned and shook his head. “Just checking things out. Mom said it was too muddy yesterday.”

  “Sounds like a mom.” Sam wasn’t used to dealing with children, and he hunted for something else to say. “Wanna give me a hand?”

  “I can’t leave Auntie D’s yard.”

  It was a good rule, and Sam didn’t want him getting into trouble. Then inspiration hit, and he asked, “Have you got a baseball glove?”

  “In the car. Why?”

  “I’m ready for a break. We could play catch over the hedge if you want.”

  “Cool! I’ll be right back.”

  Skirting around the side porch, he scrambled up the driveway to where Holly’s car was parked. Sam expected to hear the slamming of a car door, but Chase made barely a sound opening and closing it before running back. Smart kid, Sam thought with a grin as he went into the garage to find his own glove and a baseball. They were under a pile of junk on his work bench, covered in dust. And one of the strings on his glove was considerably shorter than the others, with telltale gnaw marks that alerted him he had a mouse.

  More like mice, he amended with a grimace. In his experience, the little pests always came with friends and were hard to get rid of. Just as he felt his chipper mood starting its usual nosedive, something incredible happened.

  It stopped. As if someone had reached out to catch a ball on its way to the ground, his demeanor reversed course all on its own and began lifting again. Sam had never experienced anything even remotely like this, and he had no idea what to make of it. Since Chase was anxiously bouncing from one sneaker to the other on his side of the hedge, Sam put aside his bewilderment, banged the dirt and sawdust from his glove and tossed his throwing partner an easy pop fly.

  After a few of those back and forth, Chase finally complained. “Come on, Sam. I’m not a baby.”

  He laughed an
d put some more muscle into the next one. “Better?”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  “No problem. Y’know, you’re pretty good at this. Who taught you to throw?”

  “Mom did. She’s got a good arm for a girl.”

  “Does she like baseball, too?” Sam didn’t know what made him ask that, but now that he had, it dawned on him that his curiosity about his new neighbor hadn’t gone away overnight the way he’d expected it to.

  “Kinda,” the boy replied as if it baffled him. “She grew up rooting for Atlanta, but she met my dad at a Boston doubleheader, so now she likes the Red Sox.”

  It was the first Sam had heard either of them talk about the boy’s father, and it made him wonder about the details of his death. He’d lost his own grandfather not long ago and still missed him every day. He couldn’t imagine how hard it would be for a child to cope with losing a parent so young.

  Maybe this was a chance for him to help someone else whose life had been upended by tragedy, he thought. At least, he could try. “So, do you remember much about your father?”

  “Some,” Chase answered, spinning the ball in his hand before tossing it back. “He looked fine, but he was sick, and that made Mom sad. He didn’t ever want to go outside or play games with me. She said it wasn’t my fault, so I figured it was because he didn’t want to be my dad anymore.”

  Laced with sorrow, those raw, honest words drove straight into Sam’s heart. He’d assumed the Marine had died in combat, but now it sounded as if he’d made it home only to pass away later. Sam didn’t know which was more devastating, but he suspected that to Holly and Chase, there wasn’t much of a difference. Brady was gone, and they had to live without him. It didn’t get much tougher than that.

  It wasn’t Sam’s nature to delve into someone else’s pain, especially since he had more than enough of his own to bear. But this brave kid and his grieving mother had broken through his stalwart front and gotten to him in a way other people didn’t. Foreign as it was to him, he acknowledged that their heart-wrenching history made him want to do something to help them.