The Soldier's Bride
Page 27
She pointed. “I’m right out front today.”
He nodded and followed her out to the beat up Nissan Sentra with a crappy red paint job and no hubcaps. She hurried to unlock the door, still favoring her ankle, and moved a few items out of the way. She stood by the door of the car and smiled at him as he moved to place Megan in the car. He hesitated for a second, meeting Anika’s gaze. She was stunning in the soft glow of the street light with a few strands of her light brown hair curling softly around the nape of her neck where it had escaped the bun. He wondered how long her hair was, and if it was as soft as it looked. Carlos had noticed her earlier from across the store and wondered if he should try to strike up a conversation. Lucky for him, the Christmas tree had provided the perfect introduction.
He tucked Megan into the car and buckled her seatbelt. “You’re right. She is a heavy sleeper.” He stepped back from the car, closing the door quietly. He lifted his eyes to Anika’s and nodded.
She adjusted the straps on her bag. “Well, I’d better get her home. Thanks so much for your help.”
He didn’t want her to leave. He wanted to stand there for a few more minutes and talk, but it would have to wait. Anika moved to open her car door, but Carlos opened it for her. The way she stood so straight made her appear tall, but when she ducked into her car, Carlos guessed she was about five foot six. “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
Anika hesitated, and then gave him a tentative smile. “Maybe.”
Carlos rubbed a hand along the back of his neck as she pulled out of the parking lot. The evening was cold with clouds threatening snow. He shivered as her tail lights disappeared around the corner. Tomorrow he’d come in a bit earlier to get started and see if there might be another opportunity to chat with Anika.
He hurried back inside to clean up his tools and get ready for his next eight hours on call in the Echo Ridge Volunteer Fire Department. The town was small so they operated on a tight budget which meant that all of the firemen had other jobs. For Carlos, it kept him busy, sometimes too busy because he hadn’t been on a date for two months. His madre had pestered him last time they talked, “Twenty-seven is too old to be single. You should be giving me grandbabies by now.” He smiled thinking of her rapid Spanish and the thick accent that accompanied her words when she spoke in English.
Five years ago his mother had moved from Puerto Rico to sunny Florida. She didn’t understand why her son wanted to live in a cold climate such as upstate New York. But Carlos loved Echo Ridge, the town was small enough that he waved at several people on his way to work each day, but big enough that he’d been able to keep his own business afloat. The smog steered clear of Echo Ridge and the buildings had character, with old-style architecture that would continue to be in need of his carpentry skills. Even though people seemed busier than they used to, he liked the slower pace compared to some of the bigger cities he’d visited.
With his tools tucked safely inside the back of his pickup, Carlos drove a mile east of the store, up a slight hill and pulled into the three-bedroom bungalow he called home. The front porch leaned to one side, but new shingles covered several parts of the roof. He hadn’t started replacing the windows yet, which were all aluminum frames, but the new front door was locked and secure. He’d purchased the home last year just before foreclosure. Every paycheck he bought more supplies to fix up the place and it was looking better, but wasn’t anything to be proud of yet. Who was he kidding? There was a reason he wasn’t married. Who would want a college dropout who lived in a rundown house, even if it was close to Parley’s Way and its posh residents?
Carlos had picked up a few good clients from the Ice Money population that flocked to Echo Ridge during ski season but it wasn’t steady enough to support a family yet. He thought of the woman he’d met tonight. She had a daughter and would need someone stable. Carlos pursed his lips. Maybe it’d be better if he didn’t bump into her at the store. He pulled open the new kitchen cabinets he’d installed last summer— the white paint gleaming under the recessed can lights above the sink. Maybe he should take his mother’s advice and sell this place for a profit, move closer to family, and the sunshine of Miami. He shook his head, halting the negative train of thoughts. The desire to fix up the place still burned inside, and he couldn’t ignore the visions he had of the newly remodeled home, perfect for a little family. It might not be his family, but he would keep working until he finished this place. He had that much time at least to make up his mind about his future in Echo Ridge.