Caught in the Current (Pacific Shores Book 2)

by Lynnette Bonner

  Unfortunately, Reece took after Mom more than he did Dad in that area. And if they were going to bring those cabins up to their potential, they were going to need some help.

  But all those thoughts were a bit premature. He studied his dad’s face. So thin and sunken and gaunt. The doctors had said any day now. But miracles still happened, right? He couldn’t just go on planning like Dad wouldn’t be here, could he? And yet…he must go on planning exactly in that vein.

  Dad pulled in a shuddering breath and mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep. It was so hard to see him like this. The man who’d always been so strong and vital. The man who never even retired until the cancer took hold of him at seventy-five. Even though he’d been older when Reece was born, Reece couldn’t remember a day when he hadn’t admired his dad’s strength. Even now his strength showed through in a different way as he bravely battled a disease which was slowly sucking the life out of him. He was glad Dad was getting some sleep this afternoon, because when the guests started arriving for the welcome-home gig Mom had put together for him, the man was going to insist on sitting up and visiting, and he wouldn’t get much rest.

  Reece glanced at his watch. If he wanted to get Marie’s groceries to her and make sure she’d been able to get to the pharmacy, he’d better get going. Mom would clean his clock if he wasn’t back on time.

  He poked his head back into the kitchen. “Dad’s resting fine. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

  Mom was humming as she put groceries away. “That’s fine, dear. Don’t rush. Kylen Sumner said he’d be happy to man the grill for me tonight so you can mingle with the guests. Did you get the pickles?”

  “Pickles!” Reece cringed. “There’s a reason why I forgot the pickles. And it’s a good one too.”

  Mom raised a quizzical brow.

  Reece snapped his fingers and pointed in her direction. “But it’s a bit of a long story. I’ll run by Thrift and Save and buy them on my way back tonight.”

  Snagging his hat off the peg by the door, he slid it on and jogged to his truck. Marie had had a few cold things in her cart, and he hoped they would still be fine by the time he got them back to her. He would have just dropped them by on his way out to the house, but he knew Mom had needed some of their groceries for her preparations for tonight’s menu, and Marie’s place lay in the opposite direction of Mom and Dad’s.

  When he arrived at Marie’s door a few minutes later carrying her three small bags of groceries, he was surprised to find her door wide open. The door to the apartment across the hall—the only other apartment on this level of the old refurbished house—was open also, and some fairly loud music blared out. He wondered if Marie had to put up with the noise often. “Hello?” He poked his head inside her door.

  Alyssa sat on the living room floor watching Bugs Bunny. She turned to look at him, and her eyes lit up. “Hi!”

  He grinned. “I brought your groceries; is your mom home?”

  Alyssa pointed across the hall. “Mr. Meyer askded her to paint that ’partment so’s new people could move in.”

  “Oh, I see. Well, do you think it would be okay if I came in and put your groceries away?”

  Alyssa squinted and cocked her head. “Are you a stranger?”

  Careful, Reece. The last thing he wanted to do was teach the little girl it was okay for her to let men she’d only just met into her house. “You know what? I kind of am, aren’t I? Tell you what. I’ll just leave these right here by the door and go find your mom, okay?”

  Alyssa shrugged and turned back to the TV. “Okay.”

  Reece poked his head into the other apartment. It was totally empty and smelled like fresh paint. The music seemed to be coming from the first bedroom down the hall to the left, so he followed the sound.

  The sight that greeted him so captivated him that he planted one shoulder into the doorframe, folded his arms, and just watched. He could see now why Marie had been wearing the paint-spattered getup this morning at the grocery store. A large tarp covered the floor, and fresh paint gleamed on every wall but the one directly across from the door. Her back to him, Marie was painting it now. But she wasn’t just painting. She was dancing as she painted. And singing. Rather loudly, and rather well.

  She lifted the paint roller in front of her mouth, her bandaged finger poking out like an afterthought. She sang with gusto as she snapped the fingers of her other hand above her head and swung her hips, then rolled a couple strokes onto the wall before dipping into the tray near her feet for more.

  He grinned. He didn’t know this group, but she obviously knew the song by heart, because she had the words and her moves down pat.

  The song came to a close, and as the last beats blared, she spun around and tipped one wrist as though she herself were giving the cymbal its final stroke. Her gaze landed on him, and she squawked like a startled seagull and stumbled backward.

  “Watch out for the—!”

  Too late. Her foot landed right in the tray of white paint.

  Her eyes dropped closed, and she just stood there. Not even bothering to pull her foot from the tray.

  Reece couldn’t have stopped the chuckle that escaped if he’d tried.

  Her gaze flew to his, and she blew a frustrated breath at a strand of hair hanging over one eye even as a rueful smile begged for purchase on her lips. “Apparently I should have just stayed in bed this morning.”

  He tilted his head. “I’m glad you didn’t. Then we wouldn’t have bumped into each other at the store.”

  Her eyes widened, and she bent quickly to shut off her iPod and extract her foot from the tray.

  That was a definite back-off-buddy-you’re-freaking-me-out look in her eyes. He took a breath. Things were different. He’d have to tread with caution. Especially considering Alyssa had mentioned Dan had asked Marie to marry him, and she’d said “maybe.”

  Marie scraped off as much paint as she could with the side of the tray and then placed her foot gingerly on the tarp. At least there hadn’t been too much paint still in the tray. The white only coated the shoe to just above the level of the sole.

  He hurried into action and grabbed up the roll of blue paper towels lying on the tarp. Pulling several off, he handed them to her.

  She used the first couple to get a grip on the shoe and remove it—no easy task with the thick white bandage keeping her first finger at a stiff, odd angle—then set to wiping down the shoe as best she could. “What are you doing here?”

  He handed her another towel. “I brought your groceries. I didn’t want you to have to do that chore all over again tomorrow.”

  Her chin lifted, and she stilled for just a moment like a regal wild mustang trying to decide if it should stay and fight, or turn and flee. In the end she did neither. She toed off her other shoe. “You didn’t have to do my shopping. But, thank you. I’ll go get my checkbook. How much do I owe you?”

  He wanted to tell her not to worry about it, but there was a certain set to her jaw that let him know he’d better not just yet. He might be in enough trouble already when she realized he’d covered her co-pay at the emergency room with his own card. “The receipt is in one of the bags.”

  She left her shoes on the tarp and walked out without another word.

  As he watched her walk away, his focus slipped to the gentle sway of her hips above those long, athletic, brown legs. He swallowed and forced himself to look at the floor. No matter how hard he tried not to think about how beautiful she still was, the battle was futile.

  He switched his attention to the small section of wall that still needed another coat of paint. If it sat too much longer, she would have to wait till the second coat she’d already put on it dried completely. He grabbed up the paint roller and loaded it with paint, then set to rolling over the last small section. It was a few minutes before he felt more than heard her come to stand in the doorway behind him.

  “You don’t have to do that. I can finish.”

  She was obviously used
to fending and doing for herself. He loaded the roller again and glanced at her over his shoulder. “I don’t mind. Painting is therapeutic. And I didn’t want it to go all tacky on you. I’ve almost got it done.” She had a checkbook in one hand, but her arms were folded and one of her shoulders was planted into the doorframe. He turned back to rolling on the paint.

  “The receipt doesn’t have the pickles on it.”

  “Yeah, I sort of forgot the pickles. I have to run back by the store before I go home to pick them up for Mom.” Not that he would have put them on her tab anyhow, but he wouldn’t mention that part. But suddenly he saw a way to convince her to join him this evening at his welcome-home party. He pretended to carefully check the wall for any thin spots. “So I guess if you want to pay for them, you could come with me. Then Alyssa could get her ride in my truck like I promised her while she’s awake.” Satisfied that the wall was coated well enough, he set down the roller and double-checked his hands for any paint. He didn’t want to get any on his clothes. “But, since the store is closer to home than here, it would be easier timewise if you just came out to the house for this dinner Mom has planned. Then I can bring you home later tonight.” He glanced over to see if she was buying it.

  She pressed her lips together and swallowed. “I’m not so sure your mom would like that. She didn’t give me an invitation.”

  Reece stilled and studied her for a moment. Even though he could tell she was trying to hide it, there was definite hurt in her expression. Mom wouldn’t do that on purpose, would she? “Maybe it just got lost in the mail?”

  Marie shook her head. “She handed them out at church. She handed Kylen and Taysia’s to them while I was standing right—” She broke off and looked away, waving a hand to dismiss what she’d been about to say. “It’s not a big deal.”

  Reece felt a heaviness weight his heart. His frustration with his mother rose several notches. He couldn’t believe she’d done that. She’d handed invitations out right in front of Marie but hadn’t given her one? “Well, I want you there, so come with me.”

  She wriggled her pink-sock-covered toe into a small tear in the tarp and didn’t answer.

  “Please?”

  Her eyes narrowed, but humor twinkled. “You’re just trying to get another person to your welcome-home party. Not enough friends left in town?”

  He couldn’t stop the grin that tugged at his lips. “Maybe.”

  A smile etched lines at the corners of her eyes. “Well, it won’t work.” A bit of her old familiar sass sparkled in her blue gaze. “Sooner or later you’re going to have to come to grips with the fact that you really don’t have any friends, Reece.” Sarcasm dripped thickly from her words.

  He chuckled and rubbed at a small white speck on his thumb. She was going to say no. He could feel it. He hadn’t planned on telling her about the potential work just yet, but… He pushed his hat back and peered up at her from under his brows. “There’s another reason I’d like you to come too, actually.”

  She only offered a questioning look, and waited.

  “I’d like to hire you.”

  She jolted straight and her jaw dropped open. “No way.”

  He sighed. “I can understand. You’re probably too busy already. It was just a thought—”

  “No! That’s not what I meant. I meant—wait. What do you want to hire me to do?”

  He settled into his heels and clasped one wrist behind his back. “We have three new little cabins Dad built with the intention of increasing our available space for guests. I’d like you to decorate them. You could have Alyssa with you, of course, and—”

  Tears sprang into her eyes.

  “Whoa.” He held out his palms to calm her. “It’s just a suggestion. You don’t have to—”

  “Reece.” She was smiling now but still crying.

  He lifted his hat and scratched the top of his head. “I must be missing something here, Marie.”

  She loosed a watery laugh. “I was just”—she swept a gesture toward the still-wet wall— “praying while I painted and asking the Lord to give me a second job that would be part time and let me keep Alyssa with me while I did it.” Her face turned crimson. “Before I started singing, that is.” She dashed at the moisture on her cheeks. “You have no idea… Yes. I’ll take it.”

  “You haven’t heard how much I’m paying yet.”

  She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. And I’ll work hard, I promise.” She lifted her bandaged finger. “With the upcoming doctor bills—Well, anyway. Every little bit helps.”

  Something inside him went still at that. And he suddenly realized just why she’d been so reluctant to go into the hospital earlier today, and was even more thankful he’d paid the co-pay for her.

  Was the reason she’d had so few groceries not because she didn’t need more, but because she couldn’t afford to buy more? His glance dipped toward her injury, and he remembered her putting him off when he’d offered to take her to the pharmacy, earlier. He’d bet dollars to doughnuts she didn’t plan on picking up her prescription.

  He swallowed, hating to think of her in that situation, but knowing he wasn’t in a place to press for more details at the moment. He upped the price he’d planned to pay her by five dollars an hour and got back to the conversation. “Good, so, ah…” He assessed his hands one more time and then, satisfied they were indeed paint-free, looked up at her. “Would you mind coming out tonight to look them over? If you think you could have them done by the end of July, we could start renting them out August first.”

  “I’ll have to check with Taysia on a couple of things, but I think it should be doable.”

  “So you’ll come?” He held his breath.

  “As long as you’re sure your mom won’t mind?” She lifted her checkbook. “I do have to pay for the pickles.”

  “I’m sure it was just an oversight on Mom’s part. I know she won’t care. She’s got a lot weighing on her with Dad and all.”

  “Alright, if you’re sure.” Her eyes suddenly widened, and she glanced down the length of herself. “Do I have time to change?”

  “Sure. How about if I clean up here for you while you do that?”

  “Oh, thank you.” She waved a hand toward the paint tray and roller. “The head on the roller is on its last legs anyhow, and I promised myself I’d throw it away after this time, so just chuck it and the plastic liner into the Dumpster out back. You can just leave the handle, brush, paint can, tarp, and paper towels in a stack. Mr. Meyer will be by first thing to make sure I got this done, and he will pick those up then.”

  “Got it.”

  As he set to cleaning up for her, he thanked the Lord it had been easier to talk her into taking the job than he’d anticipated. Now he needed to call Justus at Deschutes Rejuvenation and let him know he wouldn’t be back. At least for the foreseeable future.

  Chapter 5

  With her hand encased in one of the tight rubber gloves they’d given her at the hospital, Marie hurried through her shower and into a pair of jeans, her favorite blue peasant blouse, and a pair of cubic zirconium–studded flip-flops. She worked some mousse into her hair and hoped her curls wouldn’t frizz too much because she didn’t have time to baby them with the hair dryer. After a quick application of light makeup, she grabbed one of Alyssa’s little jackets from her room and headed down the hallway to the living room.

  Reece had made himself right at home. He was hugging one of the denim pillows and lying on his stomach on the floor next to Alyssa, laughing at the antics of Daffy Duck. He’d hung his Stetson on the same hook he’d used earlier that afternoon, she noted. She also noted the rugged day’s worth of beard shading his jaw.

  She swallowed and fiddled with the zipper on Alyssa’s jacket. “Alright, you two. I’m ready.”

  Reece was still laughing when he turned on his side, but when he saw her, his laughter died away. He swallowed and tucked part of his lower lip between his teeth as he scanned her quickly. It wasn’t the hungry, pr
edatory look she’d received from so many men, but an assessment of such awe that it stole the moisture from her mouth.

  And then just as quickly as it was there, it was gone, and he leapt to his feet and ruffled Alyssa’s already mussed hair. “Ready to go ride in my big blue truck, Superwoman?”

  “Yes!” Alyssa scrambled to the old TV and pushed the off button and then pressed stop on the DVD player. “Ready!”

  Marie smoothed a hand of uncertainty down the side of her jeans. “Pillows.”

  “Pillows!” Curls bobbed as her daughter snatched up the denim cushions and chucked them at the couch. One tumbled off and she dashed after it, then crammed it into one corner with the command for it to “stay.”

  Reece chuckled and grabbed his Stetson, settling it on his head, and they headed out the door. But instead of going straight to Thrift and Save, he pulled into the parking lot of the pharmacy.

  She fisted her hands and tried not to look as sick as she felt. The check for the groceries had taken her account down to under twenty dollars, she still had to pay for the pickles, and payday wasn’t for another week. She could just deal with the pain in her finger, and the chances of getting an infection in the cut after all the antibacterial treatments they’d done at the hospital were next to nil, so she wasn’t too worried about needing the antibiotics they’d prescribed. So she hadn’t planned on paying for the pills. But she couldn’t just out and tell Reece she couldn’t afford her prescriptions, could she?

  Beside her Reece leaned forward and dug into his back pocket.

  She glanced over at him.

  He lifted a hundred-dollar bill up between his first and second fingers and swung his chin toward the entrance. “Alyssa and I will hang out in the truck while you run in and grab your prescriptions.”