Surprise flickered in those hauntingly lovely eyes when she spotted him. He saw a quick flash of something that looked suspiciously like dismay.
Was she thinking about the night before, about those heated few moments?
You’re so nice. That’s why all the girls like you so much.
He had been thinking about her all day. He had done his best to push those thoughts away, but it hadn’t worked very well.
At random moments, he would remember those beautiful eyes of hers and the tousled bedroom hair and the way her tongue had darted out to lick at her plump bottom lip.
Now those same lips tightened. “Oh. Hello. I’m sorry. You’re looking for me. Have you been waiting long?”
“A few minutes.”
He immediately wanted to demand she tell him what had upset her but that would probably sound ridiculous.
“I was...held up after work. Did you need something?”
Yes. For you to tell me what’s wrong. He couldn’t say that, of course.
His real reason for knocking on her door seemed silly, and suddenly he didn’t want to burden her with one more thing. It was obvious she had greater worries than his hot water—or, more specifically, the lack thereof.
Without telling her the truth, though, he couldn’t think of a good excuse for standing outside her door.
He sighed. “It’s not a big deal, and I hate to bother you with it. I don’t have any hot water. I was heading into the shower and ran it for about ten minutes, and the temperature seemed to only get colder.”
“Oh.” She looked totally defeated, as if all color and light had leached away from her world.
“I’m sure it’s something simple. Do you mind if I take a look at your water heater? I might be able to figure it out.”
“I...no. Of course not.”
“Is it inside your apartment or...” He let his voice trail off.
“Oh. Yes. You want to go inside.” She unlocked the door and pushed it open. “I’m sorry. It’s been a...long day.”
She unlocked the door and pushed it open. Immediately, a trio of cats rushed past her to greet Jamie.
She didn’t blink at that, as if their defection was all she deserved.
Inside her house, he had the same impression as the other night, one of fussy tidiness. Some instinct told him the decor on this floor of the house wasn’t the real her, that she was only maintaining the antiques and collectibles out of obligation. She would fit much better among the delicate, feminine furnishings upstairs.
Saying nothing, she led him through the living area to her kitchen, where she opened a door and flipped on a light. Stone steps led the way down to a large stone basement that had likely once been the root cellar of the house. Now, as Julia led the way down the stairs, he discovered a furnace and water heater that both looked new.
He looked around the space. “This is quite a cellar.”
“I know. I hated coming down here when I was a girl. I’m still not that crazy about it, if you want the truth. I avoid it as much as possible.”
As soon as she spoke the words, she looked as if she wanted to take them back, as if she hated revealing a weakness about herself.
He wanted to tell her he found it charming. It also made him wonder what she had been like as a little girl, all gorgeous, serious eyes and long, dark braids. He didn’t know how he knew she had braids, but he could picture them, clear as day.
“The water heater shouldn’t be having trouble. It’s brand-new and still under warranty,” she said. “I had it installed when the furnace went out this fall.”
“Let me just take a look.”
He didn’t know much about water heaters, but he figured if he could fix some of the tricky mechanical problems of his airplanes, he should be able to figure this out.
He tinkered for a moment and quickly realized the pilot light had gone out on the water heater.
After trying the regulator on the pilot a few times with no success, he sought an alternative.
“Got a match?” he asked.
“Not on me,” she answered with a rueful look. “But my father always kept some down here to light the pilot on our old furnace.”
She went to a shelf along the wall that still held dusty preserves. After rooting around a moment, she pulled out a box of long matches. “I can’t guarantee they’ll still light,” she said. “My dad’s been gone three years now.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. His pop was still going strong. Jamie hated thinking of a world that didn’t have Dermot Caine in it.
“Thank you. He was a good man, even toward the end. Some people with Alzheimer’s get mean, but my father was always the sweetest, most gentle man.”
Alzheimer’s. That was tough. He knew how heartbreaking that damn disease could be.
Her mother had recently died, he remembered. Eliza had mentioned her mother had spent her last few months in a nursing home after a series of strokes, which meant she had been through more than her share. Eliza had also told him Julia was an only child. That must have been a heavy load to carry alone.
He couldn’t fix that for her, but at least could get the hot water going again. Turning his attention to the task at hand, Jamie adjusted the gas to the pilot light and quickly lit a match to it. The light ignited with a whoosh that made her gasp a little and step back.
When it appeared the water heater was working correctly, Jamie stood up. “That should do it. My shower should be hot in no time.”
“If you have more trouble, let me know, and I’ll call the company in Shelter Springs that installed it.”
“You got it.”
“Thank you for fixing it. I wouldn’t have known the first thing to do.”
“I didn’t do anything except check the pilot light,” he said.
“My mother always called a neighbor every time something went wrong. I’m trying to be a little more...independent. Obviously I have a long way to go.”
She mustered a smile, but her eyes still looked haunted. Something was wrong, he thought again. He had a feeling it had nothing to do with her parents.
“There’s nothing to lighting a pilot light. See that regulator valve? Just turn that to pilot and hold it down for about a minute. If it doesn’t light, you can use a long-handled lighter or match. Just keep your eyebrows out of the way. If you’re fond of them and want to keep them, anyway.”
That teased a little smile out of her, but it slid away quickly.
“After it’s lit, you have to hold down the valve to heat the thermocouple for about a minute, then release it and you should be good to go.”
“I’ll probably just end up calling the neighbor, but thanks for the explanation. I guess that’s it, then. Enjoy your shower.”
The big tank wouldn’t have enough hot water for a shower for hours yet, but he didn’t tell her that. “Thanks.”
He replaced the door on the control panel, then the two of them headed back up the stairs.
When they were once more in her kitchen, he couldn’t ignore the bleak sadness in her eyes any longer. “Is something wrong? Besides the hot water heater, I mean?”
Her eyes widened with surprise. “I don’t...why would you ask that?”
“You seem troubled.”
He wanted to tell her she appeared very different from the soft, appealing, tipsy woman she had been the night before. That hardly seemed appropriate, though, so he held his tongue.
“I’m fine, Mr. Caine. It’s been a very long and difficult day, and the only things on my mind are my comfy pajamas, a cup of tea and a good book.”
He had no right whatsoever to push her to tell him what was wrong, as much as he might want to.
“I understand,” he finally said. The truth was, if he switched the pajamas for sweats and the tea
for a beer, his evening would be just about the same.
“Good night, Mr. Caine,” she said woodenly.
What happened to Jamie? he wondered, as he let himself out and headed back up the stairs. Did she remember that she had asked him to call her Julia?
He had to admit, he liked the sweetly soused woman he had met in the entryway the night before much better than this forlorn version. He would even prefer the stiff, prickly librarian she had been when she showed him around the apartment.
CHAPTER SIX
SHOULD SHE OR shouldn’t she?
Julia gazed at her cell phone as she gnawed her lip in indecision. She had already called Wyn four times that day and ended up with her friend’s voice mail each time. Phoning her yet again might be verging on harassment.
She had to know, though. What was going on with Davy and Clinton? Had Wyn found a foster care placement for them? Where? Would they have to spend Thanksgiving in a cheerless facility somewhere?
These questions had haunted her all night long. As exhausted as she’d been the night before, she expected that once she slipped into those comfy pajamas she had mentioned to Jamie Caine and finished her chamomile tea, she would be out like a light. Instead, she had paced and worried and paced some more, under the watchful eyes of three sulky cats.
It hadn’t helped when she finally heard the shower upstairs start up. Her stupid imagination wandered in dangerous waters, and she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him up there, all wet skin and hard muscles...
She owed the man an apology.
Jamie had offered her only kindness, fixing the water heater and showing concern and asking if something was wrong. In return, she had been stiff and cold, as dismissive as her cats to his efforts at kindness.
What was it about the man that left her feeling so completely flustered? She could carry on casual conversations with her library patrons all day. Strangers, friends, children, senior citizens. But around Jamie, she couldn’t seem to string two coherent sentences together. She was awkward and tongue-tied.
His easygoing manner should have helped her feel more comfortable around him. Instead, it seemed to have the opposite effect, heightening her awareness of him and her own ridiculous crush on the man, until she couldn’t seem to think about anything else.
She wasn’t sure why she found it so surprising that he could be full of charm. Every woman in Haven Point was enamored with Jamie. To draw that sort of adoration, he had to possess more than simply good looks.
She found him entirely too appealing—but right now her crush on her upstairs tenant was the least of her worries.
Julia pulled out her phone again, staring at Wynona’s contact info. She would call one more time, she decided, then stop hounding her friend.
This time, the phone rang only twice before the call was answered.
“Julia!” Wyn sounded breathless and harried. “I’m so sorry I haven’t returned your calls. I’ve been in meetings all morning long.”
Julia could feel her cheeks turn pink, and she shifted in her chair. She should have waited for Wynona to call her back instead of hounding her. “I’m sorry to be a pain. I’ve been so worried about the boys. How is everything going? Did you locate their mother? Have you found a good placement for them?”
A long pause met her question, and she knew the answer even before Wynona replied.
“That’s one of the reasons I haven’t had time to return your call. I’ve been in contact with different agencies all across the southern half of the state. So far we’ve had no luck locating the mother. Everyone is out there looking. Meanwhile, I’m doing all I can to find an in-home placement for the boys, at least for Thanksgiving. Even the various group facilities are packed. I’ve found two available foster homes, one in Pocatello and one in Burley. Unfortunately, they can each only take one boy.”
“You have to separate them.”
Wynona’s sigh clearly conveyed her frustration. “I know it’s not ideal. It’s not my preference either, but I don’t have other options right now. I’m sorry. This is the best I can do.”
“You can’t split them up,” Julia declared. “They need to be together. They’re so close. The bond between them is remarkable. You’ve seen them together. Clinton is so worried about his little brother, and Davy tries his best to watch out for his brother in return.”
“You’re right. They’re sweet together. It’s impressive, especially given the chaos they’ve been through the last few years. Their father’s death, their mother’s PTSD, moving here away from family. I think all that hardship has only made them closer.”
“Then why would you even consider splitting them up and potentially risk compromising that bond?”
Wyn sighed again. “It’s not up to me, honey. Nobody’s made me queen of the world yet, darn it. I’m doing the best I can. I don’t want to split them up either, but separate home placements are really more beneficial than a temporary, overcrowded facility in every way. Trust me on that. Those facilities are usually packed with children who are hard to place for a reason. Usually they’re much older and more world-wise. Under those circumstances, separate home placements would be better in the long run for two young boys.”
Her heart hurt when she tried to picture the two boys being driven away in separate directions. Those poor kids had been through so much already. This seemed more than they should be asked to endure.
“Isn’t there anything we can do?”
“I wish I had a better answer for you,” Wyn said softly. “I’ve been racking my brain all morning.”
The completely preposterous idea that had come to her in the night—the real reason she hadn’t been able to sleep—suddenly didn’t seem as impossible as it had at 3:00 a.m.
“What if I took them?”
The words slipped out before she could think better of saying them, and she instantly wanted to snatch them back. She couldn’t take two little boys. The idea was mad.
Wyn must have agreed. For a long, painful moment, her friend said nothing. The silence dragged on so long, Julia wondered for a moment if the connection had been lost.
The social worker probably had been so shocked, she dropped her phone in her coffee.
“You?” Wyn finally said.
“I know it’s not practical. I’m not a certified foster parent or anything. But these are unique circumstances. These boys lost their father, who gave his life serving our country. We have an obligation to take care of them, don’t we? Surely this case merits an exception to the rules.”
She gripped the phone tighter. She was out of her mind. She had to be. This made no sense, yet here she was arguing her cause like a seasoned attorney. “I have a huge house with plenty of room. I can provide a safe, warm, comfortable place for them to stay for a few weeks, where they can continue on with their friends and school, until you can find something more permanent.”
“It definitely is an intriguing idea, one I hadn’t even considered. Are you sure about this, Julia?”
Far from it. She hadn’t been less sure about anything in a long time. But she couldn’t shake the sense of obligation she felt for those two lost little boys. She wasn’t responsible for their predicament; she was only the one who had discovered and reported it. She understood that intellectually, but she couldn’t shake the image of Clint the night before.
This is your fault, he had snarled, accusation in his eyes and his fists balled.
It wasn’t. She knew that. Like it or not, though, she had a connection to them now. Besides, they were alone in the world right now, something she understood too well.
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t mean it,” she said briskly. “I have the room and I want to help. I’m involved in this and have been since they started using my library as their safe haven. I don’t feel right about standing by and doi
ng nothing while they are split up, especially if I have the ability to help. No matter how good the separate placements might be, I feel strongly that these boys need each other.”
“These are two young boys who have already had a rough time. It’s not like taking on a couple of stray puppies.”
“I understand.”
“I hope you do. I can’t even guarantee how long it might take until we can find the mother or the uncle and aunt they’ve talked about—or until we can locate a different foster placement. It could be weeks.”
“That’s fine,” she said. “Do you think it’s even possible, considering I’m not a relative or a certified foster parent?”
“It’s possible. It’s definitely possible.” From her initial shock, Wyn’s tone began to take on a growing enthusiasm. “I would have to pull some strings. It won’t be easy, but maybe, just maybe, we can swing it—at least on a temporary basis through the holidays. Because you work with children at the library, you already would have gone through the necessary background checks, security clearances, fingerprints, etc. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes. My background check was just renewed a few months ago.”
“Perfect. That definitely will stand in our favor. Give me an hour or so to talk to the powers that be and see what we can work out.”
“Okay.”
Now that the option was out there on the table, her hands were shaking, she realized, and her stomach jumped with nerves. Even so, she was also aware of a bubbling sense of anticipation that had been missing from her world for a long time.
“I can’t believe you’re willing to do this, but I have to tell you, I like this idea so much better than the alternative,” Wyn said. Julia could hear audible relief in her friend’s voice. “I always knew you were an angel. This just proves it.”
Julia wasn’t so sure of that. After she and Wynona severed the connection, with Wyn’s promise to call her as soon as she knew anything, Julia gazed off into space, unable to find comfort from the stacks of books that surrounded her.
Now that the adrenaline rush of taking such a huge chance had begun to fade, all her doubts rushed back.
Sugar Pine Trail--A Small-Town Holiday Romance Page 6