Читать книгу His Small-Town Family - Lorraine Beatty - Страница 9

Chapter One

“Nicki, how long do you think you can keep this up? Running the store, taking care of a new baby, then going home at night to help your parents. You’re wearing yourself out.”

Nichelle Latimer could feel the disapproving eyes of her friend Debi Gordon on her back as she straightened the display of spiral notebooks in her family’s office-supply store. They’d been friends since junior high, and Nicki knew the concern was sincere. Just not welcome at the moment.

“I don’t have a choice. I’m the only one who can help right now. Mom has to focus on Dad’s recovery. He’s doing well after his kidney transplant. He doesn’t need to worry about the store.”

But Nicki was very worried. Since coming home to Dover, Mississippi, six months ago, she had willingly stepped in to help run Latimer’s Office Supply. The work had kept her busy and focused on something other than the death of her husband and the legal and emotional trauma he’d left behind. It hadn’t taken long to realize that business was slow and customers few and far between. But it wasn’t until she’d returned to work after having her daughter, Sadie, and assumed management of the store that she’d realized the extent of the problem. If something didn’t change soon, Latimer’s Office Supply would be out of business.

The old brass bell over the door jingled, announcing the arrival of a much-needed customer. Nicki gave her friend a quick hug. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

Debi gave her a skeptical frown before turning to leave. “Call me if you need me.”

Nicki dealt with the customer, then reached for her cell phone to check on Sadie. She missed her so much. It was the first time she’d let her mother babysit, and that was only because she needed time alone to examine the store’s accounting files.

As she did, her heart sank. If she didn’t find a way to increase business soon, her parents would be ruined. They were counting on her. What she needed was a full-time employee, someone she could depend on. She’d placed a Help Wanted sign in the front window three days ago, but no one had even inquired. Strange, considering the bad economy. Surely someone needed a job. As soon as the store was closed, she’d draft an ad for the Dover Dispatch.

An hour later, the bell over the front door of Latimer’s jingled again. Nicki glanced at the clock in her small office in the back of the building. There was still an entire afternoon to get through before she could close up and go home to Sadie. Weariness threatened to drag her down. She closed her eyes and sent up a prayer for strength. Not that God would hear her feeble plea. He’d stopped listening to her years ago when she’d turned her back on Him and stepped into a nightmare.

Walking out onto the sales floor, she put on a smile for the incoming customer. Her gaze landed on a tall, dark-haired man standing inside the door. She didn’t recognize him. In a town the size of Dover, strangers stood out, and this man wasn’t likely to be overlooked. With his broad shoulders, the dark stubble shadowing his angular face and his piercing dark eyes, he looked hard—dangerous, even. His dark chocolate hair lay in appealingly tousled waves, making his deep-set, black-coffee eyes even more noticeable. Those eyes narrowed slightly. He’d noticed her staring. She forced her gaze from his and to the object he held in his hand. Her Help Wanted sign.

“May I help you?”

The man smiled. Sort of. One corner of his mouth moved, which brought a faint light into his eyes. A small scar below his left cheek added intrigue.

He held up the sign. “Is the position still available?”

“Yes, it is. Are you interested?”

He handed her the sign. “Possibly. I’d like to know a little about the job.” His intense gaze skimmed her length before looking her in the eyes again.

A rush of warmth filled her cheeks when she saw a glint of appreciation in his brown eyes. Mentally, she shook herself for such a ridiculous thought. She must be more tired than she realized. She swallowed and cleared her throat. “Stock work, to begin with. I’m going to be reworking the entire layout of the store, so there will also be a lot of physical labor.”

A quick inventory of his well-developed chest, the muscles straining the sleeves of his shirt and the strong thighs encased in faded jeans confirmed he was more than capable of moving the displays. The man had slipped his hands into his front pockets, with his head slightly tilted, his dark eyes narrowed. She realized with a jolt that she was assessing him as he had her earlier. “Um, then if it works out, I’ll need someone to work the sales floor.”

The man nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Are you looking for full time or part time, Mr....?”

“Stone. Ethan Stone. Either, but full time would be preferred.” The corner of his mouth moved again, distracting her and revealing a deep crease in his cheek and tiny crinkles at the corners of his eyes.

“Do you have any retail experience?”

“I paid my way through school working at a big-box store. I did time in nearly every department.”

A man who worked his way through school showed determination, but something about him didn’t seem right. While he looked scruffy and hard, his words and his posture were that of an educated man. Not some down-on-his-luck drifter looking for a minimum-wage job. Too many years with her deceitful late husband raised her defenses. Why would an educated man want a job as a stock boy? She crossed her arms over her chest. “I have a feeling you’re seriously overqualified for the job, Mr. Stone.”

He raised his eyebrows, his dark eyes questioning. “Can anyone be overqualified for honest work?”

The glint she’d seen in his eyes was now a full-blown twinkle. Was he baiting her or manipulating her? She raised her chin. “You’re not from around here.”

“No, ma’am. I got into town yesterday afternoon.”

His deep voice rolled along her nerves. “Where are you from?”

He shrugged and lifted the corner of his mouth a bit more. “Here and there.”

“Where have you worked before?”

“Several places. Mainly out of the country.”

He wasn’t giving her much incentive to hire him. She opened her mouth to tell him she didn’t think he would be a good fit for the job, but before she could speak, he took a step forward. She tensed, then relaxed when she saw his eyes soften, and the crooked grin lifted on the other side.

“If you need a reference, you can call Jim Barrett.”

“Pastor Jim at Peace Community Church? You know him?” This changed everything. Jim wouldn’t recommend any old vagrant.

Stone nodded, pulling his hands from his pockets and resting them on his lean hips. “I’m good friends with his brother Paul. We...worked together.”

“Oh. I see.” She tried to find a reason to turn him down, but she was desperate and needed someone who could start immediately. The doorbell sounded again as several customers entered, triggering the urgency that gnawed in her chest every hour. She couldn’t leave Dover until the store was in the black, and if she was going to save the store, she had to have help. “How soon can you start?”

He glanced over his shoulder as the door chimed again. “Now.”

Moving behind the checkout counter, she pulled a sheet of paper from the shelf, then lifted a pen from the small container beside the register and handed both items to him across the counter. “Fill out this application, please. You can sit at one of the desks over there. When you’re finished, we’ll discuss your hours and pay.”

“Will do.” With a nod, he turned and strode toward the display of office furniture in the far corner of the sales floor.

Nicki watched him with an uneasy sensation in her chest. He walked like a man confident in his abilities. A man who could handle himself in any situation. A soldier, perhaps. But even that idea didn’t fit. He didn’t have the high-and-tight haircut or the ramrod posture she’d seen in her marine brother. Something was off. She just couldn’t figure out what it was.

Remembering she had customers in the store, she shoved the thoughts aside. She was being overly sensitive. She couldn’t paint every man she met with the same brush as her late husband, Brad. Just because a man was reserved and private didn’t mean he had something to hide.

She glanced at the man again. Despite her misgivings, there was something trustworthy about him. History had taught her to be cautious, but she had to start trusting her instincts again. Please, Lord, let this be the right decision, because I’ll need his help and Yours to save the store.

* * *

Ethan wrote his name on the line, trying to remember the last time he’d filled out an employment application. He’d worked for TNZ News Network since graduating college. But that job had ended ten months ago. His years embedded with the troops as a conflict photographer had resulted in capturing one too many horrific images with his camera. The doctors had called it cumulative stress disorder. He called it an emotional meltdown.

Ethan blinked away the visions lurking in the back of his mind and wrote down Jim Barrett’s name as a reference. Jim’s brother Paul had been the lifeline Ethan needed after he’d returned from his last assignment in Afghanistan. He’d been wounded and emotionally traumatized, and the military shrinks hadn’t been able to help him much. But then he’d returned to Atlanta, met Paul and joined his post-traumatic stress disorder group for civilians. Not only had the group turned his life around, but Paul had become a close and valued friend. When Ethan had been looking for a place to start his life over, Paul had sung the praises of his small hometown in south central Mississippi.

He was giving himself two months to see if Dover could be his new home. Having a job would help him settle in. Within a few minutes he’d filled in all the blanks with his scant personal information. He hoped she wouldn’t press him for the background facts he’d left out. He carried the paper back to the front, waiting while the woman completed a sale to a customer.

She smiled and took the application from his hand. His heart did a funny little twitch inside his chest. She was a very attractive woman with her shoulder-length blond hair and eyes the color of cornflowers in summer. He guessed her to be a few years younger than himself. The top of her head was even with his shoulder, and it was hard to ignore her nice curves. There was a softness about her that intrigued him and reminded him of the delicate pink azaleas in bloom all over town.

She glanced at him, and he saw a wariness in her blue eyes. Not that he could blame her. He didn’t inspire confidence with his two-day growth of beard and old faded shirt. He’d deliberately chosen to keep his appearance low-key, hoping to blend in and not call attention to himself. Had he realized the Lord would lead him to Latimer’s Office Supply, and a job interview, he’d have done things differently.

The woman took a moment to look over his application. He braced himself for the question she would undoubtedly ask—the one that asked for an emergency contact. The one he normally put his previous boss’s name in. Not this time. He had no intention of letting Karen Holt know his whereabouts. She’d want him to come back to work. Out of the question. His life as a conflict photographer was over. As long as he stayed away from his camera, he should be okay. He had absolutely no intention of looking through that viewfinder again.

The bell over the door jingled again, preventing her question. She glanced briefly between him and the new customers. He saw the doubt in her blue eyes fade and knew she’d decided to take him on.

“Why don’t you take a few minutes to look around the store, familiarize yourself with the merchandise? We’ll talk as soon as I take care of these customers.” She shoved his application into a drawer behind the counter and started to walk off. “Oh, I’ll need someone who’ll stay on the job for several weeks. Is that going to be a problem?”

The determined lift to her chin belied the hopeful look in her blue eyes. His protective instincts stirred. The lady could use a hand, and helping others had been one of the things that restored his sense of purpose. “No, ma’am. I’ll stay as long as you need me.”

Ethan took a quick tour of the store while the woman waited on a customer. The first thing that struck him was the size of the place. It was too large for one person to manage alone. Which might explain her desperate need to hire the first person who walked in the door.

He made his way through the store, walking down aisles set in neat predictable rows and gazing at the merchandise one would expect in an office-supply store. The back corner held an assortment of office furniture. The area next to it displayed a small selection of outdated computers and printers. One thing was evident. Latimer’s Office Supply was a basics-only store. In fact, it bordered on old-fashioned. But maybe that was the norm for a small Mississippi town.

Overall, it was a charming business. He dragged his hand along his jaw. Nothing here would trigger a memory. Nothing here would yank him back to the past. It was the perfect place to start over. No memories would be stirred. No old nightmares resurrected. He’d promised himself he’d learn to be a participant in life and not merely an observer.

Returning to the sales counter, he found the woman—he didn’t know her name yet—staring at the departing customer. “Where would you like me to start?” Her gaze collided with his, the blue eyes wide and filled again with a shadow of doubt.

She smiled and raised her chin slightly. “The stockroom. But first we need to discuss your hours and pay.”

Ethan started to tell her he wasn’t concerned about wages, but she stated an amount before he could speak. “Sounds fair.”

“Good. For now, you’ll have Sundays off, but I’ll be making a lot of changes, and I’d like you to come in on Mondays, too. At regular pay.”

“That’ll work.”

“Good. I’ve lost several employees, and I need to replace them quickly.”

“Understood.” He extended his hand. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Miss...?”

The woman’s cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. She tucked a strand of her wavy hair behind one ear. “Oh, I’m sorry. My name is Nichelle Latimer.”

She grasped his hand. Her fingers were small and delicate and fluttered against his palm, sending a sweet jolt of awareness like a sudden sugar rush throughout his system.

“My family owns this store.”

Questions erupted in his mind. Why wasn’t her family here helping? She must have sensed his curiosity because she tugged her hand away and squared her shoulders.

“Which way to the stockroom?”

She pointed toward the back. Ethan nodded and attempted a smile, but all he could manage was a nod. Sometimes he thought he’d forgotten how to smile. He turned and walked toward the rear of the building. Nichelle. It was a lovely name for a lovely woman. But the guarded look in her eyes suggested she was protecting herself from something. The lady had secrets. But then, so did he.

The back hall was positioned on the east side of the building and led directly to the back door. On the right was an office, and tucked between it and the rear entrance was a kitchen and eating area. The stockroom was on the opposite side and extended along the back wall of the building. Boxes and packages were stacked on the floor and piled on the worktable, waiting to be opened.

The familiar surroundings eased the slight tension from his shoulders. The stockroom was a good place to start. He was comfortable here. He could do his job with little interference. One thing his new boss had mentioned made him uneasy. Waiting on customers. Dealing with people face-to-face had never been his strong suit. It was why he’d lived his life behind a camera lens. No chance for emotional entanglements that way. But he was jumping the gun. There would be time to worry about that later.

Ethan reached for the box cutter on the shelf and slit the seam of the closest carton. Spiral notebooks. It was spring. School would be out soon. Maybe Nicki was planning ahead for back-to-school sales. Prying off the packing slip, he verified it against the contents, then moved on to the next box. He glanced at the assortment of pricing tools hanging above the worktable. He’d have to speak with his new boss about price points for the merchandise.

His lips moved into a smile. The activity reminded him of his college years working at the discount store. The Lord had come through for him again. There was absolutely nothing in Latimer’s Office Supply that would remind him of the Middle East or suicide bombers or innocent victims in marketplaces.

* * *

Nicki winced at the sound of the heavy pot being set down on the counter. Her mother was not happy. The nice, quiet Saturday evening meal with her parents had ended in an argument. Nicki had avoided telling her mom about Ethan as long as she could. But when she asked her straight-out when she planned on replacing Charlie, their longtime employee who had recently retired, Nicki had had no choice but to come clean.

“You hired a stranger to work in our store? Some vagrant off the street?”

“Myra, calm down, dear. Nichelle has good instincts about people.”

Good thing her father knew how to handle her mother because she surely didn’t. They had never been able to communicate. Her brother, Kyle, had been her mother’s favorite, always able to charm her out of a bad mood with a wink and a smile. The perfect child who could do no wrong in her mother’s eyes.

Opening the packet of formula, Nicki poured it into the baby bottle, attached the cap and shook it. Hard. Kyle had been special. She’d adored her older brother and missed him terribly. His death in Afghanistan two years ago had left a huge hole in all their lives. Especially her father’s.

“Allen, she hired a full-time employee, some stranger to work our store. He could rob us blind. Or worse.”

A twinge of concern inched its way up Nicki’s spine. Her mother wasn’t wrong. She had hired a stranger. But her father was right; she did have good instincts about people. Except when she married them. Then she was a complete idiot. She’d fallen for Brad’s charm and his wealth, blithely ignoring the little twinges of doubt until it was too late. But her impression of Ethan was different. She had some questions about him, but she just knew he wasn’t a crook.

“Mom, I called Jim Barrett and he vouched for Ethan.”

Her mother huffed and shook her head. “I don’t like this.”

Nicki exchanged glances with her father. “Mom, I need help at the store. I can’t run it alone. You have to take care of Dad, and he’s got weeks of recovery ahead. What would you like me to do?”

Her mother turned to glare at her. “What do you know about this man?”

“He’s experienced in retail and he can work the hours I gave him. That’s all I need to know right now.” She’d been impressed with Ethan. He’d worked diligently, caught on quickly and only approached her a couple of times with questions regarding the pricing of the merchandise. He looked her in the eyes when he spoke and left the stockroom neat and tidy at the end of the day.

“For all you know, he could be the one robbing the stores downtown.”

Allen Latimer peered over his glasses at his wife, a sure sign he was becoming irritated. “Myra, let the girl do her job. She has her hands full with our granddaughter and our business. Don’t make things worse.”

“Fine. But if one thing is missing from our inventory...” She turned back to the sink, her shoulders stiff with displeasure.

Nicki moved to the baby bouncer on the counter and unbuckled her fussy daughter’s safety strap. She took the little girl into her arms, cradling her close and kissing her cheek, reveling in the new-baby smell. She gave Sadie her bottle, smiling at the sweet little sounds she made as she ate, gently bouncing her as she walked into her parents’ living room and settled down in the rocker.

She looked forward to this time of day, holding Sadie in her arms as she ate, talking to her, sharing her big plans for their future. From the moment the nurse had placed Sadie in her arms, she’d realized she’d found what she’d been looking for all her life. Something that gave her purpose and happiness—being a mom.

The only thing missing was her independence. She’d planned on striking out on her own once Sadie was born, but that plan had been complicated by her father’s kidney transplant and a mountain of red tape with Brad’s estate. As soon as she took care of things here, she’d find a job and leave Dover behind.

Nicki glanced up when her dad stood beside the rocker. He gently stroked Sadie’s little head.

“She’s beautiful. Like her momma.”

Her daddy had always been her biggest cheerleader. She didn’t like keeping things from him, but after realizing the dire financial situation Latimer’s was in, she’d called her friend Gary Palmer to go over the books for her. She hadn’t told her father what she’d done for fear of upsetting him. She didn’t want to risk a setback. Still, her concern warred with her conscience. What if keeping her dad in the dark only upset him more?

“Dad, about the business...”

Her dad patted her shoulder. “I know. Business has fallen off since Office Mart opened over in Sawyer’s Bend. But I’ve made arrangements to transfer some funds to get things back on track. I meant to do it sooner, but then the transplant donor was found, and I never followed up. You do what you think is best for the store. But let’s keep this between you and me. I don’t want to upset your mother.” He rubbed his forehead. “You know, pumpkin, we’re happy to have you back home, and that little darling is our treasure, but I never planned for you to have to take over the store. I’m only sorry this health thing of mine has messed up everything.”

Nicki’s heart ached. “Oh, Daddy, you haven’t messed anything up. I’m glad I was here to help. Besides, I like having something to do every day.” For too many years, she’d been denied that choice.

Her father eyed her closely. She could never deceive him. He always knew when she was keeping things hidden, and right now she was hiding a lot.

“Nicki, honey, why did you come home so suddenly, and why didn’t you bother to attend your own husband’s funeral?”

Shame and guilt washed over her. She focused her gaze on Sadie, who had nearly emptied her bottle. How could she explain the past two years to her parents? They would never understand. Her mother thought Brad had hung the moon. Wealthy, charming, handsome and successful. Everything she’d hoped for her daughter. How could she tell her that Brad had turned out to be a white-collar criminal, that he’d died in a plane crash while attempting to flee the country? And how did she explain that she was broke because Brad’s assets were tied up in a federal investigation?

Her dad touched her cheek gently. “When you’re ready to talk, we’ll be here.”

All she could do was nod. She could barely come to terms with how she—an intelligent, educated woman—had been so foolish and gullible. She’d lost herself in her relationship with her husband. Now she had to figure out who she was and who she wanted to be.