Читать книгу The Heart of Christmas - Brenda Novak - Страница 10
ОглавлениеThat was a mistake. Rex McCready knew better than to let himself get involved with a woman like the one he’d just slept with. But last night he’d been craving more than a perfunctory encounter. He’d been hoping to assuage the aching loneliness that plagued him, to finally connect on an emotionally honest and intimate level.
It’d been so long since he’d felt close to anyone. To make matters worse, he’d been traveling from town to town for over a week, which meant he’d spent Thanksgiving in a hotel room, alone. The holidays were always rough, regardless of where he happened to be.
But if he wasn’t careful, he’d drag another innocent party into the mess he’d created. And he couldn’t do that. Four years ago, he’d almost lost the only woman he’d ever loved to the men who were looking for him. Allowing himself to care about someone else merely threw him back into the same situation, a situation that left him vulnerable—and made anyone he cared about vulnerable, too.
Last night he’d acted selfishly and he’d gotten drunk to give himself the excuse. But he had a sneaking suspicion that even without the whiskey, it would’ve been impossible to resist the beautiful woman who’d singled him out at the bar.
Eve. That was her name. He’d heard the waitress who drove them back to her place call her that, and he’d found it as ironic then as he did now. She’d tempted him and he’d fallen, although she wasn’t the kind of woman he should be with. She was far too innocent, too trusting, too conservative in her ideals. She hung on to the people in her life; he could tell that from the little she’d told him.
He glanced back at her bungalow with a regret he didn’t want to feel. If he could’ve stayed a bit longer, made love to her when they were both sober—that would’ve done a lot more to fill the gaping hole inside him. But he was only driving himself crazy by dwelling on what he couldn’t have. He didn’t want to be responsible for bringing danger into anyone’s life—and if he’d learned anything since being released from prison, it was that associating with him could be dangerous.
At least the hours they’d been together had given him a much-needed escape, even if it was far too brief.
A truck came rumbling up from behind. He stuck out his thumb, hoping to catch a ride, but the driver squinted at him through the dirty windshield as if he couldn’t imagine any normal person hitchhiking these back roads in the chilly dawn, and drove on.
So much for people in the country being more trusting than those in the city, Rex thought. In his travels, he’d discovered that it was often the opposite. But he wasn’t worried about having to make the long trek to town on foot. He could travel five miles in an hour. According to his smartphone, Whiskey Creek was 4.1 miles due north. Besides, he enjoyed being in motion. There was a cathartic quality about covering the ground with a quick, purposeful stride. It appeased the restless wanderer inside him who never seemed to be content, never seemed to be comfortable coming to a complete stop. Even when he remained in one place, he found himself jiggling his knee to siphon off excess energy.
But if he didn’t make good time, he’d leave his assistant hanging around the park where he was supposed to meet her, and he didn’t want her to panic, thinking something had happened to him. He’d never had to go into hiding like this before, not since she’d come to work for him, so she was already a little freaked out.
He phoned her at home, hoping he could catch her before she left.
“Marilyn?”
“How’s the prospecting?”
A lot of people came to this area to look for gold in the rivers and streams of the Sierra Nevada foothills. Some did quite well. Although that was ostensibly his reason for choosing this particular spot for his “vacation,” it was too cold in December and he didn’t really know what he was doing. “I tried it once.” And nearly froze his nuts off. “Found nothing. About this morning—”
“I’m glad you called,” she broke in. “I’m running late. My husband left the interior light on in my car, and it wouldn’t start, even after a jump. He’s putting in a new battery.”
She sounded frustrated. She liked coming to work early so she could head home at three-thirty. But the fact that she was behind schedule suited him fine. “No worries, since I can’t make our original meeting time, either.”
“Why not? Is everything okay?”
She knew he wouldn’t have stepped away from the helm of his company, especially in such a hurry, unless he had no choice. She just didn’t know the nature of the threat he faced. Working in personal security for several years, he’d come up against some pretty bad dudes, any one of whom could want to even the score. Marilyn probably assumed he was dealing with a situation like that. But this particular problem was much bigger than anything he’d ever encountered with a client and it stemmed from before he’d started All About Security, Inc. This went all the way back to a time when he’d been a different sort of man.
“It’s fine—for the moment.” He grimaced at the ribbon of road winding through the hills in front of him and blew on his hands to warm them. There was no snow on the ground, but there was plenty of frost. “So when will you get here?”
“That’ll depend on whether or not a new battery does the trick.”
“Fine. Text me when you leave.” Since she was coming from the Bay Area, where his office was located, he’d have two hours from that point.
“I will.”
“Perfect.”
“Are we still meeting in the little park you told me about?” she asked before he could end the call.
“Yes. Right next to the giant gold-panning statue.” He preferred public places in case she’d been followed. That was for her safety and his; he didn’t like the idea of someone kicking in the door to his room and shooting him before he could draw his own weapon. Although it wasn’t legal for an ex-con to own a firearm in California, let alone carry concealed, he wasn’t nearly as afraid of the cops as he was of the other side. He disregarded that no-firearms stipulation whenever he felt the situation warranted it. He’d been fighting to preserve his own life so long that he simply did what he had to do.
But, as vulnerable as it made him feel, he didn’t have his gun with him now. He’d certainly known not to take it into a bar. These days a lot of places screened patrons before letting them in and, last night, he’d needed a break badly enough to go unarmed.
“I’m sure I won’t miss it,” she said. “I’ll see you soon.”
He was just putting his phone away when he heard the approach of another vehicle. This one slowed before he could stick out his thumb, and the driver, an old man, leaned across the seat and lowered the window.
“Hey, you need a ride?”
“I do.” Flashing the guy a grateful smile, Rex climbed in.
* * *
“Why didn’t you come to coffee this morning?”
Eve turned to see Cheyenne, her very pregnant best friend, waddle into the small office at the back of the B and B and bend down to put her purse under the desk. Although Cheyenne had cut back on her hours, first when she got married and then when her sister returned to town so she could help out by babysitting her toddler nephew, she still came in four days a week. Her schedule would change again, however, once she had the baby. As much as Eve hated the thought, she would probably have to find a replacement, at least temporarily. She was already working all the hours she could to compensate.
“I woke up late.” She feigned more interest than she really had in the bill-paying process she’d started as soon as she arrived. Ever since her competitor, A Room with a View, opened up down the street, it had been a struggle to remain solvent. But she’d fought long and hard and wasn’t about to give up any time soon. Not only would this B and B one day be her inheritance, it felt like a member of the family. And since her siblings, two brothers, were nearly fifteen years older and had lived in Texas since they both joined the air force, she didn’t feel she had any family members to spare.
“It wasn’t the same without you,” Cheyenne commented.
“Who came?”
“Dylan, of course.”
Chey’s husband had joined them ever since the two started dating.
“Then there were Ted and Sophia,” Chey went on, glossing over those two names as she always did since Eve had dated Ted last Christmas. “Brandon and Olivia, Callie and Levi, Noah and Addy.”
All couples. In the past few years, the dynamic of the whole group had changed.
“Oh, and Presley stopped by,” Cheyenne added. “She was passing out invites to her wedding. I have yours in my purse.”
Eve swiveled her chair around to accept it. Another wedding. Presley wasn’t a member of their original clique. She was Cheyenne’s older sister by two years. But that didn’t matter. Eve felt she’d soon be the only single person in Whiskey Creek, other than their friends Kyle and Riley. Thank God neither of them had tied the knot. Actually, Kyle had been married briefly to Noelle, the waitress who’d given her and her mystery lover a ride home last night. And Riley had once been engaged.
Eve hadn’t even gotten that close to the altar.
“Where were they?” she asked, setting Presley’s wedding invitation aside. “They’re almost as regular as I am.”
“I don’t know, but we thought it was strange that all three of you didn’t show up.”
All three of you singles. Crazy how quickly they’d become the minority....
“I don’t miss often.” Eve was one of the driving forces behind their weekly coffee date. She looked forward to catching up with the people she’d hung out with since forever—although, more and more, visiting with them made her feel she was being left behind. These days, instead of who was seeing whom and what they had planned for next weekend, the conversation revolved around babies and purchasing houses and the ups and downs of marriage.
Eve had nothing to contribute to that.
Still, she would’ve attended but she could all too easily imagine everyone wishing her a happy birthday and asking what she did last night, and she didn’t want to be reminded of it. This evening the whole gang was taking her to San Francisco for dinner, in a limo no less. She preferred to start the celebration fresh, as if she’d never gone to Sexy Sadie’s.
“I’ll see everyone later. I’m sorry I missed out, but...I was feeling pressure to get caught up around here.”
Cheyenne frowned at her. “Is there a problem?”
Was she acting unusual? “No, just the day-to-day stuff,” she said. “You know how tough it is to survive the off-season.”
“But I thought you were feeling encouraged. We’ve been full almost every weekend, and we were full last night, on a Thursday. That’s better than a year ago. Offering afternoon tea has definitely improved our occupancy rate.”
The tea had been Eve’s idea. Besides the boost it gave her business, she enjoyed going to secondhand shops looking for vintage items she could use in unexpected ways. Most recently she’d been collecting old plates and fastening them to various candleholders and other bases to make elegant stacking trays or elevated dishes.
“With luck, word will spread and our tea will really bring in some business when spring hits,” she said. As Cheyenne had mentioned, they’d already noticed a spike. “But we have to get by until then.”
Fortunately, A Room with a View was no longer undercutting her prices. For months after it first opened, the owners—a European couple relatively new to the area—had tried to drive her out of business. They’d finally given up, but she wasn’t under the illusion that they’d backed off out of kindness or compassion. They must not have had deep enough pockets to continue.
Thank God. She couldn’t have hung on much longer. As it was, only the nineteenth-century mystery of Little Mary’s murder, and the rumor that her ghost might be haunting the place, had saved the inn from foreclosure. Unsolved Mysteries had come out to film an episode, and the publicity from that had enabled Eve to continue to pay the mortgage.
“How’s Deb getting on with breakfast?” Cheyenne asked.
Hungover and sleep-deprived, Eve hid a yawn. “She was doing okay when I checked on her a few minutes ago.” Fortunately, their “new” cook had been with them for nearly six months, so she was well accustomed to the demands of the job.
Cheyenne’s chair creaked as she settled in. “I can’t remember—what’s on the menu?” She sniffed. “Whatever it is smells great.”
“Ricotta pancakes with lemon curd and fresh raspberries. A fruit and yogurt parfait with handmade granola. Two sausages and fresh-squeezed orange juice.”
“Oh, right.” Cheyenne gave an exasperated laugh at her forgetfulness. She was the one who’d planned this particular meal; she’d chosen the ricotta pancakes last week. “I take it the taste-test went well yesterday?”
“Those pancakes are delicious!”
“I can’t wait to try them.”
Eve glanced at her watch. “Most of our guests signed up for a nine-thirty breakfast. We should go to the kitchen in another twenty minutes or so to help Deb.” They had only seven rooms, but with such a small staff—three of them to cook, handle the food and clean during the day and two people who traded off as night manager and covered for Eve when she was gone—it could be tricky to get everyone served at once.
“Are most of them eating in the dining room?” Chey asked.
“All but 1 and 5.” Room 1 was the smallest. Located at the back of the inn, it overlooked the garden, arbor and hot tub. Room 5 was their wedding suite, or could be turned into one if they had a bride and groom.
“Maybe we should do a sign-up sheet with two slots for each half hour so that the most we’ll ever serve at one time is—”
The buzz of Cheyenne’s phone interrupted. When she looked down at it and fell silent, Eve twisted around to see why.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Kyle texted me.”
“Where was he this morning?”
“He says he had to give Noelle her spousal maintenance.”
Eve froze at the mention of Noelle. She didn’t want Kyle coming into contact with his ex-wife. Not so soon after last night. She was hoping that, with the passage of time, Noelle might forget what she’d witnessed—or forget to say anything about it. “His spousal maintenance isn’t due until the middle of the month. He’s told us that more than once.”
“She always tries to get it out of him early. That’s why we know when it’s due. We’ve heard him complain that he’s supposed to have until the fifteenth. Anyway, this time she told him the utility company was going to shut off her electricity.”
“He fell for that old trick?”
“Kyle’s a big softie. And he still feels guilty for getting involved with her in the first place.” She took a moment to text him back.
Hoping Cheyenne and Kyle’s conversation would end there, Eve entered a few more checks in her electronic register, but heard Cheyenne say her name a few seconds later.
“Eve?”
She curved her fingernails into her palms. “Yes?”
“Noelle’s been telling Kyle some crazy stuff.”
A knot formed in Eve’s stomach, but she had to answer. “Like what?”
Eve could hear the change in Cheyenne’s voice, even though she wasn’t facing in that direction. “You didn’t go out last night, did you?”
“For a while,” she hedged, and then did what she could to take control of the conversation. “But if Kyle wants to know what I did for my birthday, why isn’t he texting me?”
“He says he tried and got no response. It has him worried.”
After surveying her desk, she realized she must’ve left her phone in her car.
“He wanted to know if you were at coffee this morning. Wants to make sure you’re okay.”
“You can tell him I’m fine.” And to butt out. But she knew that wasn’t going to happen when Cheyenne gave a cry of surprise.
“Noelle is claiming you took some guy home from Sexy Sadie’s!” With her extended abdomen, it was a struggle for Cheyenne to get to her feet. “Is that true?”
Damn Noelle! Eve had suspected she wouldn’t keep her mouth shut, not while she was privy to such a delicious secret. And now that she’d blabbed, everyone in town would hear about Eve’s mistake.
“Is it?” Cheyenne asked.
Letting her breath go in a sigh, Eve stopped pretending to work and turned. “I’m afraid I had a little too much to drink.”
“Who were you with?”
“Jared Somebody.”
“Somebody? You don’t know his last name?”
“We didn’t get that far,” Eve said with a shrug. “It was just a...a quick encounter. He left almost right away.”
“But not before...”
Eve was tempted to lie. But this was Chey. If she couldn’t tell her best friend when she screwed up, who could she tell? “No.”
“Wow, that’s so unlike you.” Eyes wide with shock, she sank back into her seat. “I don’t think you’ve ever done anything like that in your life.”
“I haven’t.”
“What made you do it last night?”
“That’s hard to explain.” She rubbed her temples.
“Give it a try.”
“You know how I feel about turning thirty-five.”
“I do. And I understand why. But lots of women are marrying later in life. And they’re having children, too.” She touched her belly. “Look at me.”
True. However, Chey’s situation was anything but typical. If not for the fact that Aaron, her brother-in-law, had donated sperm for an artificial insemination, which had happened in secret, she would be childless. Her husband didn’t know he wasn’t really the father. Eve wouldn’t know, either, if Cheyenne hadn’t broken down and told her during a brief scare when she began to spot at three months and feared she was about to have a miscarriage.
“I was determined not to spend my birthday alone, so—”
“I feel terrible,” Cheyenne broke in. “I should’ve been there for you.”
“You couldn’t. You have a husband and other responsibilities now.” Not that it made the loss of her best friend’s time and attention any easier. Eve was more alone than she’d ever been. With her parents traveling so much, and her friends busy with their own lives, all she had to devote herself to was the B and B. Since she’d dated Ted last year, and he’d broken up with her for Sophia, she’d been even lonelier.
“It wasn’t Dylan who pulled me away,” Cheyenne clarified. “His brothers were arguing with their father and stepmother, and we were trying to act as intermediaries.”
“Well, helping in that situation was more important than hanging out with me last night,” Eve said. “Trust me, what I did wasn’t your fault. It was mine. As I said, I was drinking. And this guy was...”
Worry creased Cheyenne’s forehead. “Pushy? He didn’t press you too hard or...or make you feel you had no choice....”
“Not at all,” she said. “The moment I noticed him, I wanted him—more than I’ve ever wanted anyone else. It had to be the booze. I’m not usually like that, not with a stranger. But everything—my mood, the alcohol, the fact that I was alone and the handsomest guy I’d ever seen was sitting at the bar... It all sort of undermined my good sense.”
Cheyenne bit her lip. “So you invited him over?”
“More or less. We wound up together. Let’s just say that.”
“I’m happy you met someone you were attracted to. But taking a stranger home... That’s so dangerous, Eve. He could’ve hurt you or...worse.”
Eve had swallowed two ibuprofen tablets to help her recover from her hangover. She’d been feeling better since then, but the tension of having to confess to something she’d much rather forget was bringing back the pain. “He didn’t do anything I didn’t want him to, so there’s nothing to worry about there. I made a mistake. It’s that simple. I was stupid and foolhardy, but it’s over now, and I can’t take it back.”
She returned to her computer, hoping the discussion was now at an end. But Cheyenne didn’t go back to work.
“So you’re okay?”
“As okay as I can be when I’m embarrassed and humiliated,” Eve replied. “I’m hoping my parents won’t hear about it once they’re home. They’d be just as embarrassed. And disappointed. They don’t need that at their age.”
“Did they get the RV fixed?”
“Not yet. They had to order one of the parts.”
“Lucky for you. Hopefully, this will blow over before they return.”
“From your lips to God’s ears.”
Cheyenne groaned as she stretched. Then, obviously attempting to be nonchalant about it, she asked, “Do you think you’ll be seeing this guy again?”
“No. He’s only in town temporarily.” She didn’t want to add that he’d also made clear he wasn’t interested, which was hitting her hard after Ted’s defection. Until the past few years, she’d been the one to call the shots with the men she dated. But maybe she’d been too picky for too long and deserved the reversal. Maybe karma was coming back to bite her. It certainly seemed that way, because there’d been Joe DeMarco, who’d dated her just once—by his choice—and Ted, who’d done more than date her, only to break it off right when she’d decided she was finally falling in love.
Counting this guy, she was zero for three.
“What brought him here?”
Eve felt herself flush. “We didn’t do much talking.”
“Apparently not.” Cheyenne seemed to be fighting a smile.
“Stop!” Eve scowled at her. “This isn’t funny. Let’s just...pretend it never happened.”
“We can do that. And I’m confident we can convince Kyle to keep his mouth shut. He knows what it’s like to make that kind of mistake. But Noelle? If you take someone home with you, don’t ever do it in front of her.”
Eve didn’t volunteer that Noelle was the one who’d given them a ride. “If I’d had any brain cells that were still functioning, we wouldn’t be having this conversation!”
Cheyenne came up behind her and began to massage her shoulders. “Everything will be okay. Try not to let it ruin your birthday.”
Turning thirty-five had already done that. But she had more to worry about than the memory of a birthday gone sour. Even if she could forget what she’d done, she couldn’t escape what had caused her to act that way in the first place. There was a void in her life and she was trying to fill it with something meaningful. Last night hadn’t helped, however. If anything, it’d made things worse because it had highlighted, once again, the companionship she was missing, as if watching her friends move on with their lives wasn’t difficult enough. “I never saw this coming.”
“Neither did I,” Cheyenne admitted. “But...maybe you needed to cut loose.”
“Thanks for looking on the bright side.” Eve took a moment to smile gratefully. Then she shoved last night into the back of her mind. They needed to get through the most challenging part of the day—and for any B and B that was pulling off a fabulous breakfast. “We’d better go help Deb.”
Cheyenne gave her a final squeeze and they headed to the kitchen, where Eve insisted on being the one to deliver the meal trays to the guests who’d requested breakfast in their rooms. She didn’t want Cheyenne climbing such a long flight of stairs if she didn’t have to.
Trying not to obsess about who else Noelle might be telling about her faux pas of last night, Eve hurried to Room 1 with a single tray for a Brent Taylor. B and Bs primarily hosted couples, but that wasn’t necessarily the case in Whiskey Creek. Because there were no regular motels, she rented to anyone who needed a room, and that sometimes included a husband or wife who’d been kicked out of the house or had stormed off for whatever reason, people who came to pan for gold, business travelers and others who were passing through for one reason or another.
With her mind on returning to the kitchen for the other two trays she had to deliver to the couple in Room 5, she donned a polite expression as soon as the door opened. But the words she was about to utter—“Good morning. I hope you enjoy your breakfast”—never passed her lips.
There, looking like he’d just stepped out of the shower, was the man who’d shared her bed last night.
