Читать книгу A Home by the Sea - Christina Skye - Страница 8

“WHAT’S A LITTLE MESS between friends?” she said.

It was a mess all right. Noah cleared off an old sweatshirt from the seat so she could sit down. He had heard the faint disapproval in her tone. She wouldn’t know that he’d been working for eight days straight, and this was his first real break.

He scooped a fast-food bag off the floor beneath her feet and dumped it in a holder behind him. “Sorry about this stuff.”

“No problem. Everybody has to eat, Mr.—”

“McLeod. Noah.” He set the kittens and their box in her lap, then slid the towel gently around them. “And some people eat better than others,” he said ruefully.

“You’re good with your hands.”

Her voice was husky, raw with cold. Noah was certain that she was freezing. He also noted that she didn’t seem to notice the chill, refusing to take care of herself until she knew the cats were safe. Once they were settled in her lap, he leaned down to crank up the heat around her feet. “Is that better?”

“Pure heaven.”

He pulled out onto the deserted streets, peering through the sheeting snow. “They weren’t kidding. This storm is looking bad. We could be in for a wild ride.”

In the distance an ambulance whined, the sound swallowed by the gusting snow. The whole city seemed deserted, all activity stopped.

“Just as long as we’re warm.” She smiled, staring down at the pile of kittens, curled together warm and snug on her lap. Noah wondered if she realized that her expensive shoes were history and her elegant wool coat was streaked with mud from the Dumpster. If so, it didn’t seem to bother her.

“They look okay.” At least Noah hoped so.

“They’re moving. That’s a good sign. But we have to get them completely warm. Then we’ll work on hydration,” she said firmly.

Noah didn’t hide his surprise. “Are you a vet, ma’am?”

“No.” She smoothed one tiny, soft body, then pulled the towel back in place. “But my grandfather is. I’ve seen him handle abandoned animals about a thousand times, and that’s what he would do. I’m Grace, by the way.”

“Glad to meet you, Grace. And if anyone did the saving tonight, it was you. I’m surprised you saw them near that Dumpster.”

“Just luck. I was … walking slowly. Thinking.”

Her mouth tightened. She blew out a little breath.

A story there, Noah thought. But it wasn’t any of his business.

He drove with extra care, alert for sliding cars and patchy ice. The snow was getting deeper, and the streets were nearly deserted except for an occasional snow truck or ambulance.

He glanced over at Grace, who was holding the box protectively at her chest. Now they had the heat covered, but what were they supposed to do for fluids? Noah was fresh out of baby bottles or eye-droppers.

But he knew someone who wasn’t.

He pulled out his cell phone and hit speed dial. His older brother answered on the third ring, sounding breathless. “McLeod’s. Reed here.”

“Hey, big bro. I’ve got an emergency on my hands. Can you meet me at Dad’s shop in ten minutes? And bring baby blankets—or clean towels.”

There was a potent silence. Then Reed McLeod cleared his throat. “Baby blankets?”

“That’s what I said, big bro.”

“Do I want to know why?”

“Probably not. I don’t have time to explain anyway. There’s zero visibility out here and this storm is just starting. Gotta go. And be sure to bring the big car, will you? I’m not taking chances with these drifts that are forming.”

“This is an emergency?”

“Yeah, it is.” Noah glanced down at the kittens and frowned.

“I was just sitting down to Myra’s amazing dumplings, but I figure the story you’re going to tell me will be worth it. You’re usually good for a story.”

He hung up before Noah could give him an earful.

Noah was a careful driver, but he barely missed getting hit three times in the whiteout. A layer of ice had formed beneath the fresh snow, and by the time he reached the meeting point at his father’s shop, he was ten minutes behind schedule.

He knew that Grace was worrying about the animals, though she didn’t pester him with questions or complaints.

“How are your guys doing?”

“Two of them are moving around. I think they just started nursing, thank heavens. But the other two look very lethargic. The mother needs fluids. And I’m afraid that—” Her breath caught. “Wait. No way.”

“What?” Noah wanted to look over at the kittens, but he didn’t dare take his eyes from the road given the icy conditions. “What happened?”

“You are not going to believe this. I mean really not going to believe it.” Grace’s voice filled with a husky wave of tenderness.

The smoky sound did something odd to Noah’s pulse. “Tell me, Grace.”

“I thought there were four kittens. But now I can see that this cat has three kittens and one puppy.”

“A puppy?” Noah swerved to avoid a Volvo, skidding sideways over a patch of black ice. “Damn. Okay, now would you say that again? You can’t mean—”

“I’m sure of it. The mother is treating them all the same, grooming them in turn, but I know a puppy when I see one. This looks like maybe a collie-retriever mix. He’s licking my finger in search of food. At least I think it’s a he. You’re a big sweetie, aren’t you, honey? So soft.” Her face was radiant when she looked up. She reached over and squeezed Noah’s shoulder. “I couldn’t have managed this without you. How can I possibly repay you?”

As her hand skimmed his arm, Noah felt a stab of heat. He knew a few ways, but they didn’t bear thinking about. Head out of the gutter, pal.

“Let’s say you thank me by giving me at least one of these guys. Preferably two. I’d really like that puppy you’re holding to be one of them. But you found them, so that’s your call.”

“Oh, no. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I’m only here in D.C. temporarily, so they’ll need homes. Best of all would be keeping them together, at least until the little ones are older.” Something crossed her face, and Noah saw worry darken her eyes. “I’ll be traveling a lot for the next six months. I won’t be able to take any of them with me. What am I going to do?”

“We’ll work something out. They won’t go back on the street.” He spared time for a quick glance and saw her biting her lip. “Are you going far?”

“Chicago. Oregon. Paris. Provence. Back to Paris. Then probably Romania.”

“Yep, I’d say that’s far. What kind of work do you do, anyway?”

“Food research.”

“Come again?” Noah slowed for a light and frowned when he felt his Jeep slide. The ice was getting worse, but he didn’t want to worry her. “Is that like food technology? Artificial fragrances and additives? Because I have to tell you, I hate people who tamper with what we eat. If God had meant us to eat Red Dye #4, hydrogenated fats and square tomatoes, he would have made them that way to begin with.”

Grace smiled faintly. “I’m with you. Basic is best. The kind of research I do is largely historical.”

“Historical food?” Now Noah was really confused. “How historical?”

“About a thousand years. Herbs and storage skills to prevent disease. Medieval food preparation. Royal feasting rituals from Europe and Asia.” She gave a wry smile. “Are you asleep yet?”

“Hell, no. That’s fascinating stuff. My mom would pick your brains to learn about any of that. She might even surprise you with what she knows.”

“Is she a nutritionist?”

“No. It’s just a hobby of hers. Or family tradition—maybe you’d call it an obsession. She grew up in Ukraine and her family was dirt-poor, so she was hungry a lot as a child. She was homeless when she came to this country. Pretty grim times. She has great respect for a good, nourishing meal and home cooking. She taught all of us to have that.”

“Your family? You cook together?”

Noah nodded. “Four brothers and one sister.” He swerved again, and this time his tires spun out on a patch of ice. He eased off the brake immediately, but noticed that Grace sucked in an anxious breath. Yet even then she didn’t complain.

Strong stomach.

Noah liked that in a woman.

“You can ask my mother for all the details when you meet her.”

“Meet her? But I don’t—”

Noah revved the motor, making the snow fly. The big wheels dug in hard, but they didn’t move. As Noah gunned the motor again, a silver Hummer pulled out of a side street and nosed parallel to the now seriously snowbound Jeep. Grace watched the doors open and two very big men jump out.

She leaned forward, clutching her bundle of babies protectively. “Who are those men?”

“It’s all right, Grace. You can relax.” Noah grinned at the older man, who was wearing a big Russian fur hat. “The cavalry has just arrived.”

THEY DIDN’T LOOK LIKE CAVALRY.

They didn’t look like anything Grace had seen before. The younger man was blond with striking cheekbones and a tan as if he worked outside. His face was unreadable as he pulled open Noah’s door. His wary expression deepened to alarm when he saw Grace hunching protectively over the neatly wrapped bundle on her lap. “Hospital, ASAP,” he snapped decisively. “Why didn’t you go straight to the E.R., Noah? You passed one—”

Grace shifted in her seat. “No. I mean, it’s not what you think—”

“No hospital needed. We’re going home,” Noah said firmly. “The women can handle it.” He nodded at Grace.

“Are you crazy? If you have a baby—” Noah’s brother leaned down and lifted a corner of the coat. A mewing sound filled the car. “Cats?” Reed McLeod straightened slowly, his mouth set in a wry grin. “You’ve got cats,” he repeated. Then he yanked Noah outside into a snowbank.

A big man, looking like a jolly commissar in his big hat and long coat, watched them mock-box, jumping and shoving each other through the drifts. He shook his head. “Just ignore them,” he said calmly, smiling at Grace. “They are hopeless, I am afraid. Always competing.”

“I noticed,” she said wryly. This had to be Noah’s father. He looked like a Celtic poet, with eyes the color of a clear highland sky. Grace picked up the hint of an accent in the soft roll of his vowels. “And you must be their father.”

“I must own up to that, yes. We came to help with your … babies.” He gave a dry laugh. “But we will take you and Noah home now. In a real car,” he added proudly.

Grace gathered the towel around her precious brood and rolled down the window a little more. “I could use some help. I’ve got a mother cat and four babies in this box and they’re all moving. Do you think you could—”

She hadn’t finished before the door opened and strong arms lifted her bundle carefully. “Wait for Noah to help you out. These drifts are already up to your knees.” The tall man turned. “Noah, stop fighting with your brother and make yourself useful. Otherwise I will teach you both how to fight for real.”

Ignoring his warning, Grace stepped out and hissed as her feet sank into an icy drift. “We’re taking your car? The Hummer?”

“No car is better. It could drive us to Everest if necessary, but fortunately we do not have to go so far.” The tall man glared sternly at his sons. “You two paper-brains, come here now. Help this nice lady before she freezes.”

Looking sheepish, Noah jumped over a drift and scooped Grace up in his arms. “Sorry. There’s just something about fresh snow.” He gave a crooked grin. “One flake and I have to rub my brother’s face in it. It’s a serious character flaw. But we’ll have you warm and dry shortly.” He frowned as he felt Grace shiver. “Dad will have the heat cranked up to the max, count on it. He may be from Scotland, but he hates the cold.”

“I don’t hate the cold,” Noah’s father said crisply. “I just prefer to be warm and dry. Now, the lady will go in the front. You two go in back with the animals. And have a care that you don’t crush any of them.”

Noah settled Grace in the Hummer’s front seat. Then he took the wrapped bundle from his father. “All here and accounted for.” He clipped the seat belt around Grace. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Much better, thanks. How many inches are we supposed to get tonight?”

“Twenty-six, last I heard. A real bruiser of a storm.” Noah’s father held out a hand. “I am Alex McLeod. A pleasure to meet you.”

“Grace Lindstrom. Thanks for rescuing us.”

“My pleasure. I’ll have us home before my Tatiana’s fried dumplings get cold. It is just over the bridge and a few minutes more.” He shot a measuring glance at his sons. “Mind the young ones. Turn that back heater up so they stay warm. Noah, stay in your Jeep and I will push you over to the curb where it is safe and then we will go home. Meanwhile, no more fighting, you two.”

Grace hid a smile at the murmured sounds of assent. Clearly Alex McLeod ran a tight ship, but the love between the men was equally clear.

“You’ve met Noah. My other son is Reed. Two years older, but not much wiser.” Alex nudged the Jeep carefully toward the curb, using the Hummer’s big front fender. When that task was done, he gave a thumbs-up to his son.

Noah slid into the backseat beside his brother. “Nice job on the Hummer, Dad.”

“Repaired under schedule and under budget,” Reed said proudly. “Our contract was extended for two years. Anytime you want me to look at your fleet vehicles and give your boss a service estimate, I’d be glad to oblige.”

Noah shot a glance at Grace. “I’ll pass that on. Money’s a little tight right now.”

“Where do you work?” Grace’s feet were finally starting to warm up. She tucked them under her and turned back to check on the kittens. Leaning over the seat, she folded down the edge of the towel and caught one wriggling form as it tried to escape beneath Noah’s arm.

“The building near the corner.”

“Down the street from the art gallery? The one with the big fence?”

He nodded.

Grace noticed he said nothing more. “I saw half a dozen trucks parked in the back. The windows were reinforced with steel bars. Are you in law enforcement?”

“I work for the government,” Noah said quietly. A look passed between the three men, and he said nothing more to clarify the statement. Grace realized that he wasn’t going to tell her anything else.

“Hey, get back inside here.” Noah looked down and caught another kitten making a bid for freedom. “These guys are going to be real escape artists. We may need a perimeter gate and security lights.”

“Mom won’t like it if they pee on her furniture, that’s for sure.” Noah’s older brother crossed his arms, smiling a little. “But that’s one scene I might like to see.”

“Not in this lifetime. Your mother will know how to handle them,” Alex McLeod murmured. “She raised all kinds of animals when she was a girl.” His voice warmed. “Here we are, Ms. Lindstrom.”

“Call me Grace, please.”

“Grace, then, and a warm welcome to our house. Wait, please, so that Reed can help you over the snow.”

“Reed will not,” Noah said curtly. “Reed will be a good little boy and take the babies inside while I carry Grace over the snow.”

“Boys. They are always boys,” Alex muttered. He parked the Hummer as easily as if it had been a Prius. At the front door his wife emerged in a hooded coat that looked four sizes too big. Snow dusted her face as she moved onto the front porch. “She was worrying. She always worries.” Alex’s voice filled with love.

The sound made something tug at Grace’s chest. There were deep emotions here. She could almost feel them tug at the air around her.

She smiled when Alex leaped out and grabbed his wife, lifting her as if she weighed nothing. “See. I brought them back safely, just as I said.”

“And if you’ll show some sense, you’ll put me down so we can all get in before we freeze.” His wife’s eyes shone as Alex kissed her. “Enough of that, you big pirate. Was that a cat I heard?”

“Four of them,” Noah said, scooping Grace up off the front seat. “Grace, meet my mother, Tatiana McLeod. Mom, this is Grace Lindstrom, and there are three kittens, a mother cat and a puppy inside that bundle Reed is carrying.”

Grace tried to smooth her hair and tug down the hem of her black dress, which was difficult considering she was still cradled in Noah’s arms. “I’m sorry to intrude on you like this, Mrs. McLeod.”

“Intrude? I love guests, and unexpected ones are the best. I heard this storm could go on throughout the night so I’ve been cooking all afternoon. Now we are ready to eat. You can tuck your babies in before the fire. I have some old sweaters we can use for blankets.”

As soon as they were inside, Tatiana bustled away, giving orders over her shoulder to her two sons.

The small house was neat as a pin, the living room filled with framed pictures. Folded afghans covered two big wing chairs and a faded chintz couch. Books sat in neat stacks on two end tables, with bookmarks inserted, and a pair of old felted wool slippers sat in front of the fireplace. All these details came to Grace as she heard the happy ring of jokes and questions swirl around her. Energy crackled everywhere, marking the bustle and arguments, measuring the depth of love and sharing in the house.

It was nothing like Grace’s family. Grace had known unerring love and generosity, but her grandfather always behaved with reticence and careful restraint. Over the years silence had become natural and soothing. People didn’t shove back chairs and run to the door in the Lindstrom house. Adults didn’t jostle and joke, pounding each other on the back in fun. In fact, all the bustle and laughter of Noah’s family made Grace keenly aware that she was an outsider.

She stared at Noah as he carried her through the living room. “You can put me down now, Noah.”

“Not yet.”

“Why?” Grace frowned as he carried her down a hallway covered with more family photos.

“Because I’m taking you to the kitchen. It’s the warmest room of the house, and my mom has dinner waiting for us. We never keep food waiting.” Noah strode into a big room with wide bay windows overlooking a small backyard. Snow had drifted up, half covering a red wooden fence and most of the branches of the apple trees ranged along one side of the yard. More snow was falling, but inside all was warmth and laughter, and the air was rich with the fragrance of caramelized onions and roasting tomatoes. Little dumplings gleamed, fat and golden, on the stove.

Grace’s mouth began to water. Fried dumplings were one of her favorite things. And something told her that Tatiana McLeod was an amazing cook. With some luck, Grace might even leave with a few old family recipes.

Noah set her down, and she moved toward a faded wing chair near the window. “Not there,” he said quietly. “It’s better for you to sit over here, closer to the fire.”

“Why? Is something wrong?”

For a moment he hesitated. The pain in his eyes confused Grace. Had she said the wrong thing? “Noah, I don’t want to bother your family. You probably have plans for tonight. Maybe I should go.”

“There is always room for one more chair at the table,” he said firmly. “A guest is never turned away.”

The firm tone of his voice made Grace realize this was unswerving ritual, not mere social lip service. This welcome came from old-world hospitality, faithfully preserved in this house. Even if she was an outsider, the knowledge left her feeling a little warmer, harbored against the wind that shook the windows and blanketed the yard with drifts.

This was a real family. The kind Grace used to dream about as an unhappy child. Here there would be laughter and arguments and cooking together around a big stove. Somewhere over the passing years Grace had forgotten about those childhood dreams.

“Are your feet cold?” Tatiana McLeod bustled over, drying her hands on a linen towel.

The woman’s gaze was keen, and Grace felt the force of that scrutiny. “They’re recovering a bit. I smell something wonderful, Mrs. McLeod.”

“Call me Tatiana, please. You are smelling my varenyky. Dumplings, that is. You maybe call them perogies.”

“I love fried dumplings. Do you use sauerkraut inside or turnips and onion? Or simply potatoes?”

“Ah, you know about making varenyky. I am most impressed.”

“I spent some time in Poland last year. I stayed at the University of Warsaw to study for a month.” Grace did not add that she had written a series of articles for a professional English cooking magazine and had won an award for her series.

“Really? You must tell me more.”

“After Poland I visited the Black Sea and was lucky enough to interview the senior chef at the Hotel Odessa. He was a very nice man. He taught me all about varieties of borscht.”

Noah’s mother looked at Grace with outright surprise. “Not many have the good sense to appreciate borscht or our dumplings.” Tatiana wiped her hands on her apron and smiled slowly. “It appears that you are one of the rare few.”

Without looking, Tatiana called to her older son, who was in the process of stealing a cookie from the plate near the window. “No snacking, Reed. You will show good manners before our honored guest, please. That is understood?”

“Yes, Mama.” Reed shook his head. “Although how you have eyes in the back of your head is a mystery to me.”

“Years of practice, my love. There were times I needed them to survive,” Tatiana said quietly. “But enough of that. The food is ready, so now we will eat.”