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Family by Design
Roxann Delaney


Recently divorced Becca Tyler is at the end of her rope.Her rental home has been sold to a mysterious new owner, and she and her three children have nowhere to turn. Until Nick Morelli comes back to town. Becca had stomped all over Nick's heart once–for all the wrong reasons. Now the boy from the wrong side of the tracks is a successful builder, while the high school golden girl is a single mom just scraping by.To their surprise, Becca and Nick soon discover the spark of their first love still burns as bright as the Christmastime stars. But Nick is keeping an important secret from Becca. Could it ruin the sweethearts' reunion before it even begins?












Family by Design

Roxann Delaney














In memory of Charlie DeNosky, who will be

greatly missed by his family and his many friends.




Contents


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve




Chapter One


Becca Tyler limped her car to the side of the road, the vehicle lurching every few inches because of the flat tire. Coming to a final, slow stop, she turned off the engine and pressed her forehead against the smooth, cold leather on the steering wheel.

What now?

She’d left her two kids and baby, Daisy, with her best friend, then driven the thirty miles from Katyville to an all-night pharmacy in Wichita to buy a vaporizer for the baby. Daisy’s cold had gotten worse, and her raspy breathing had Becca worried. If things didn’t improve and the vaporizer didn’t do the trick, she would have to take the baby to the emergency room.

One more expense she couldn’t afford.

With a heavy sigh of resignation, Becca lifted her head. If she was lucky, the spare would have enough air to get her home—or at least to Raylene’s house in Katyville. She’d worry about getting the flat fixed later, as soon as Daisy was breathing easier.

The car door groaned in protest when she pushed it open. Cold winter air raised goose bumps on her arms, and she wished she hadn’t left home without a coat—but she was too worried with a sick baby. Gravel crunched beneath her sneakers when she stepped out onto the road. When she shoved the door closed, it groaned once more, and she winced. If she could remember, she’d ask Raylene’s husband to look at it. Thank heaven Jeff didn’t mind doing simple upkeep and repair on her car for nothing.

Other than the whisper of her own movements, the deserted country road was silent. There were no houses in sight, no glow of yard lights, no traffic or city blocks, just wide open Kansas farmland, darkness and silence. But even in the dark, the tire’s misshapen form was visible, a testament to her bad luck. When would it end?

A coyote howled in the faraway distance, and she wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the chill of the lonely sound and the winter night. Looking up at the sky dotted with twinkling starlight, she tried to fight the feeling of aloneness that consumed her. “I can’t keep this up,” she whispered to the universe spread out above her. “Somehow, some way, I need some help. Please.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a bright flash of light. Thinking it might be the headlights of a car, she turned toward it. But instead of an approaching vehicle, what she saw caused her to gasp. A bright, broad streak of blue-white light blazed amidst the heavens from left to right. At the head, reds, blues and colors she couldn’t name invaded the blackness, leaving the blue-white tail streaming behind them.

A comet? It had to be. But she’d never seen such an enormous comet in all of her stargazing. She’d never seen anything so magnificently beautiful. It both calmed and energized her.

It’s only a flat tire, a voice seemed to whisper to her. Yes, she would find a way to get it taken care of, and all the rest, too. It was time to find some answers and make things better. Time to take control of her life.

As she watched, she could imagine telling Danny, her oldest child, about it. He loved to watch the news, and she’d sit with him, answering his questions—questions too old for his five years.

When the sound of a car door slamming broke the silence, she let out a shriek and spun around. She had been so mesmerized by the comet, she hadn’t noticed a vehicle approaching from behind. Another chill shook her as the image of a tall, broad-shouldered man moved toward her. She willed herself to remain calm but guarded, ready to protect herself if need be.

“What the hell are you doing, lady, parking in the road?” his deep voice boomed at her.

Shaking the fear inching up her spine, she answered. “I had a flat and—” She realized that the man was vaguely familiar, and she waited as he walked toward her in the darkness. The light from the comet was fading, but as the man came closer and stopped, she stared at him, not sure if her memory was playing tricks on her. After all, it had been ten years.

“Nick? Nick Morelli?”

The scowl disappeared from his face and was replaced by a look of puzzlement. “Yeah, that’s me. But who the he—” He leaned closer, taking her all in with one long look.

Becca wanted to die. All thoughts of taking control vanished. She remembered that look, remembered the heat that had flowed through her every time he had looked at her, just as it was flowing once again.

“Becca?”

Memories nearly overwhelmed her, but she managed to nod before she turned around so he couldn’t see how he affected her. She had pretty much forgotten Nick, the face of her youth. Thinking about it too often reminded her of the bad choices she’d made and was determined not to make again. Her life was going to change. It had to. Not for her sake, but for her kids’.

Eyes searching, she finally found the fading tail of the comet and watched as it stretched across the black velvet sky. “Did you see the comet?” she asked over her shoulder.

But he wasn’t looking at the sky. He was looking at her. Another shudder shook her.

“You’re cold,” he said, slipping out of his black leather jacket to drape it around her shoulders. “Don’t you have enough sense not to stand out here without a coat? It’s December, not July.”

“It’s not that cold.” And it wasn’t, not since he’d put his jacket around her. The warmth—his warmth—seeped into her.

He continued to look at her, and then spun around to make his way to her car. “You said you have a flat. Do you have a spare?”

Joining him, she pulled the coat closer, wishing she didn’t need it. It smelled like Nick. The Nick she remembered. Nick, with his dark hair, dark eyes and a face that could have been chiseled by a master.

She chased the thought from her mind to answer him. “In the trunk. The jack, too. But I don’t know if the spare has air.”

“No way of knowing until we check it out,” he said, opening the noisy car door and reaching for her keys in the ignition. The dome light shed a golden glow over his face when he turned to look at her. He wasn’t happy. “Do you have a flashlight in here?”

She shook her head.

He grunted. “I’ll get mine out of the truck.”

While he was busy retrieving the flashlight, she wondered what he was doing so near to Katyville and decided he was probably back to visit his family over the holidays. She knew he had moved to Denver years ago. She also knew he was married. After she’d learned that, she hadn’t heard anything else.

“Let’s take a look at that spare.”

His voice jolted her back to her senses, and she followed him to the rear of her car. But she kept her distance. Opening the trunk, he gestured for her to come closer and handed her the light. “Shine it in here.”

Scrambling to stand beside him, she shone the light where he pointed. She had forgotten that the trunk light no longer worked. Inside, the baby stroller took up a large portion of the trunk, along with a few boxes. “I’ll just move these,” she murmured and tugged at a box with one hand.

“I’ll get it,” he said, and she stepped aside to give him space.

With the stroller and boxes out of the way, he found the tire, lifted it out and examined it. “It’s almost as flat as the other. No reason to take the time to change them. I’ll take care of them tomorrow.”

“No!” She bit her lower lip, shocked at her vehemence. But she didn’t want to be beholden to Nick Morelli. If it had been anyone else, she wouldn’t have protested. But it was Nick. “I’ll take care of it.”

He took the light from her and helped return the boxes, and then he shined the beam in her direction. “I’ll have Tony come out here and get it, first thing in the morning.”

“But your brother—”

“On the house.” Pocketing her keys, he slammed down the trunk lid. “If you have anything in the car you need, get it and lock the doors. I’ll give you a ride home.”

Since her only other choices were to stay out here on a deserted road all night or walk however many miles it was into Katyville, she didn’t argue. Enough time had been wasted. Raylene would be wondering why she hadn’t picked up the kids yet.

“If you can drop me at Raylene and Jeff’s…” For a moment, after she had said it, she thought she had seen him raise one eyebrow, but she decided it had been nothing more than her imagination. “You remember Raylene, don’t you?”

“Just give me directions when we get into town,” he answered as he turned to walk away.

Opening the door to her car, she grabbed her purse and the new vaporizer, and locked up. Nick waited in his truck with the engine running, and she wondered if he still looked the same when he smiled. He hadn’t smiled yet. But who could blame him? Finding a grown and weary version of a girl who had once wounded his ego wouldn’t exactly make him grin.



GLAD THE LIGHTS of the small town of Katyville were in view and they were nearly there, Nick glanced at Becca beside him. He was more than surprised to see her again. And if he didn’t know better, he would have thought she was scared to death of him. She sure hadn’t changed much. She had always seemed so down-to-earth, and at one time, he had thought she was something special—so special that they had planned a future together. But he had learned the truth about her a long time ago. The hard way.

“Somebody sick?” he asked, nodding toward the box she held on her lap in a death grip.

“Um, yes,” she said in the quiet voice he remembered all too well. “Daisy. My baby.”

Of course, she had a baby. More than one, from what he’d heard. His mother had mentioned that Becca had married some hotshot businessman her father had picked out for her. Leave it to Jock Malone to marry his daughter off to inflate his ego and raise his importance in the community even more.

He glanced at her again. “What’s wrong with her? With, uh, Daisy?”

Becca shifted in the seat, hugging the box closer. “A cold.”

He didn’t miss the “I hope” she added under her breath, and he wondered what was going on. Nick hadn’t missed the poor condition of the spare or the other tires on her car. No man should let his wife drive around in a car with bad tires. Maybe he should say something to the guy if he ever had the misfortune to meet him.

Then again, maybe he should just mind his own business. He didn’t owe Becca Malone or Becca Whatever-Her-Name-Was-Now anything. He’d been in love with her once and had thought she had loved him, too. But that had been years ago, and she had managed to completely douse his ardor one late spring evening. He should’ve known better. At nineteen, his hormones had led his life. No more. Not only had she taught him a valuable lesson, but he’d also gone on to learn many more. Most of them had left their mark.

“Which way?” he asked, pulling onto the main street that ran the length of the town.

“Left at Drury, then all the way to the end of the last block.”

He turned to look at her. Streetlights illuminated a face that was still young, in spite of the worry lines between her eyes and the hint of dark circles beneath them.

Not liking what he saw, he forced his attention back to the street ahead. Becca was still more than easy on the eyes, and he knew better than to get hooked on the sight of her. But the worn knees of her blue jeans and the loose edge of the shirt she wore hadn’t escaped his notice. So, okay, maybe she was cleaning the bathroom or something when she hightailed it to wherever she was coming from. Or maybe she had gotten tired of dressing up for the folks in Katyville. Or maybe—

“What’s your husband do for a living?” he asked suddenly, turning the corner to head down the familiar street.

“He…He’s a stockbroker. Why?”

A quick glance told him that her suspicions were aroused. His damn sure were. A stockbroker made good money, and nothing about her shouted that she was living all that well, considering the well-used car she drove. If she lived in Katyville—and he guessed she did, or she wouldn’t be headed in that direction so late at night—her husband probably commuted to his job in Wichita. Most people did.

“Just making conversation,” he answered with a shrug.

He remained silent for the next two blocks. He hadn’t done much poking around since returning to Katyville two weeks ago. Most of what he’d seen of the town was the main street, where his youngest brother owned the service station and garage that their father had owned for almost forty years. That and the drive from his parents’ home a few blocks away to the construction site at the edge of town, where his construction company was starting a new housing development.

The silence was broken when she showed him where to drop her off, and he pulled into the driveway. As soon as he turned the key to shut off the engine, she reached for the door handle and opened the door.

Running like a scared rabbit. If that’s the way she felt, he was okay with it. He didn’t have any intention of trying to change her mind or resurrect the past.

She slid from the seat and climbed out of the truck, then turned back. “Thank you, Nick. Tell Tony to send me a bill for the tire.”

The door slammed shut, and he watched her cross the lawn and head for the porch. When she stepped up on the first porch step, his jacket slid from her shoulders. Before he could stop himself, he was out of the truck and replacing the coat around her.

Taking the box from her grasp, he tried for a smile. “You have your hands full.”

She hesitated, and then turned to look at him, her gaze meeting his. “You always were a gentleman, Nick Morelli.”

He didn’t have the chance to read the look in her eyes when the storm door in front of them blew open.

“Mom! We thought you got lost.”

“Mommy, I don’t want to go to bed without you,” came a cry from behind the small boy, who had burst from the house first.

Becca hurried up the steps to the door and knelt down to take the boy into her arms. “I wasn’t lost, honey. I had a flat tire.” She held out one arm and pulled a small, tow-headed girl to her. “It’s okay, April. I’m home and everything is all right.”

The little boy pulled away a few inches and looked up at Nick. “Who’s he?”

Becca swiveled and offered Nick an apologetic smile. “He’s the nice man who stopped to help me with the flat tire.”

“Where’s our car?” the boy asked, his forehead creased in a worried frown.

The whimper of a baby caused Nick to look up to see Raylene Stevens holding an infant. “Nick brought you home?” she asked Becca, but didn’t take her eyes off him. “It’s good to see you, Nick.”

“You, too, Raylene.” He hadn’t seen Becca’s best friend since he’d left town ten years ago. The night was turning into a walk down memory lane, and he didn’t want to go there. He sure hoped her strange smile didn’t mean she thought he’d taken some kind of advantage of Becca.

“I found her out on one of the back roads with a flat and a spare that matched it,” he explained in defense, adding a shrug. “I’ll have Tony take care of it in the morning. He can drop her car off at her place after he fixes the tire.”

Becca unwrapped the two kids still clinging to her and held her arms out for the baby. After planting a kiss on the baby’s forehead, she turned to Nick. “Thank you for the ride and…everything. But don’t bother Tony about the car. It really isn’t necessary.”

“I will and it is,” he said, his gaze on the infant she cuddled. “Is this Daisy?”

“Yes, and I’d better get her inside and out of the cold before she gets worse.”

He lifted his hand to run a finger down the soft skin of the baby’s cheek. He had always had a soft spot for kids. “Get better, Daisy,” he whispered. Ready to put an end to the bizarre night, he ruffled the boy’s hair and handed the box to Raylene. “I’ll tell Tony to get right on the tire, first thing,” he told Becca. “Nice seeing both of you again.” He turned, hurrying down the steps.

“Crazy,” he muttered to himself as he backed his truck out of the driveway. Having Tony go after her car was nothing. He would’ve done it for anybody. Of course, he would make sure his brother sent her husband the bill.

His frown deepened. And where was Becca’s husband? Why wasn’t he out looking for his wife, when his children were obviously worried about her? Some guys just didn’t know when they had it good.

But Becca’s husband wasn’t his worry. As soon as he knew her car was taken care of, he could go about his own business. Becca Malone was a thing of the past. And she would stay that way.



“I CAN’T BELIEVE IT was Nick Morelli who found you,” Raylene said. “Of all people to run into.”

Becca started to shush her, but with the kids settled in the Stevenses’ family room, she didn’t have to worry about little ears. She had a few choice words of her own about her run of bad luck—seeing Nick again topped the list—but she didn’t share them. Instead, she checked to make sure Daisy’s fever hadn’t gotten any worse. She couldn’t bear to see her baby hurting and sick. If only Daisy’s father felt the same way.

“Becca?”

She turned to attempt a smile for her best friend. “I’m just glad somebody found me. I don’t know how I would’ve gotten home if Nick hadn’t stopped.”

“So what do you think?”

“About what?” Becca gathered Daisy’s blanket and stuffed it into the diaper bag, making a mental note that she couldn’t put off doing laundry another day. If she had to hang clothes on the line in freezing weather because the house didn’t include a dryer, that’s all there was to it.

“About Nick being home, of course,” Raylene chattered as she followed Becca out of the room.

Becca could have done without this little interrogation, but she and Raylene had been best friends since grade school. Raylene had been through it all with her, especially during the time she and Nick had dated, knowing every detail and lending support. Of course her friend was curious, and she deserved at least a simple answer.

“It was a surprise.”

“A surprise?” Raylene stepped around Becca and faced her, bringing her to a halt. “A surprise? Is that all it was?”

“I had to take the back roads because of the road construction on the highway. Then the tire went flat. To be honest, I was surprised that anybody stopped or was even in the vicinity. So to answer your question, yes.”

“But isn’t ‘surprised’ putting it kind of mildly?”

Becca couldn’t stop the wry grin. “Yes, I suppose it is. Shocked would be more like it.”

Raylene laughed and flopped to the sofa. “‘Shock’ is a good word.”

“What’s he doing here?” Becca hoped her curiosity sounded normal.

“Whatever he wants, I suppose,” her best friend said with a shrug. “And his wife isn’t with him.”

Becca’s heart stopped beating for a brief moment. Chastising herself for being cheered by the news, she forced herself to breathe. “Maybe she’s coming later.”

“Could be. He’s staying at his parents’ house. That’s all I know.” She slid a sly look at Becca. “But I could find out.”

Becca shook her head. “No, there’s no reason to do that. Nick Morelli isn’t interested in me. I blew that ten years ago.”

“Your dad blew that for you ten years ago,” Raylene reminded her. “If you’d had your way—”

“What’s done is done. That was the past and this is the here and now.”

“But don’t you ever wonder what might have happened?”

Becca didn’t bother to answer her. What good would wondering do? As far as Nick Morelli was concerned, their roles had switched. She had once been the daughter of one of the most influential men in town and was expected to marry well. Nick had been the son of a garage owner. A guy who pumped gas to earn his way through college. Not that it had made a difference to her, but it had to her father.

She had done what was expected of her. She had married the man her father had chosen for her, instead of going to college. But that hadn’t turned out so well. Not after seven years of marriage and two children, with the third born barely a month before the divorce was final.

And Nick? From what she had heard, he had done wonderfully well. College graduate, owner of his own company and married to a Denver debutante.

Yes, she had wondered what might have happened had she not done as her father had wanted her to do or if things had been different. She and Nick had dated for almost six months and had fallen in love. But it all changed a week before her high school graduation, when her father decided to put a stop to it. She hadn’t given that part of her past a lot of thought, especially during the last few years. She had only had time to deal with what life dealt her and survive.

Right now, she didn’t want to talk about Nick. In fact, she didn’t want to think about him. “Where did you put Daisy’s bottle?” she asked.

“It’s in the kitchen,” Raylene said, getting to her feet. “And I have an extra can of formula you can take home with you.”

“Raylene, I can’t—”

“No big deal,” Raylene answered with a wave of her hand as she disappeared into the kitchen.

But it was a big deal. To Becca. Maybe she could convince Raylene to count it as a present. With Christmas a little more than three weeks away and less than a hundred dollars left to last until then, she couldn’t turn down the offer. She was still trying to figure out how to buy groceries, pay bills and have enough to buy a few small gifts for Danny and April. And the rent was going to be late, if, as had happened too many times, the child support money didn’t arrive.

Fighting the panic at the thought and reminding herself that she would get control of her life and make it better, she jumped at the sound of the doorbell.

“Get the door, will you?” Raylene called from the kitchen. “Jeff probably forgot his key again. And I want to fix another bottle for Daisy so you’ll have it when you get home.”

Glad for the chance to get her mind off her troubles, Becca went to the door and reached for the doorknob, ready to tease Jeff. Opening the door, she put on a sultry smile and batted her eyelashes. “Cash, check or credit card?”

“Depends.”

She felt the heat flood her cheeks when she realized that it wasn’t Jeff but Nick standing on the porch. “I thought you were…I mean, I was only…”

Nick smiled, and the heat from her cheeks spread throughout her body. Nick’s smile was the same. Beautiful. And it left her breathless. One more thing she didn’t have control of.

He looked past her, then back at her again. “I was hoping you hadn’t gone.”

She leaned against the door for support. “Raylene is in the kitchen and—”

“I forgot to ask where you live.”

She blinked. “Where I live?”

“Yeah, so Tony can drop off your car tomorrow when he has the tire fixed. I suppose he knows, but just in case…”

Of course. Why else would he need to know that? But she didn’t want him to go to the trouble. “There’s really no need. I’ll see if Jeff—”

“Here’s Daisy’s bottle. I’ll just put it in—Oh!”

Becca turned to see Raylene. Moving away from the doorway, she opened the door wider. “I was just telling Nick that I’d see if Jeff could take my tire to get it fixed tomorrow,” she explained.

“Not tomorrow,” Raylene said, bending over to put the bottle in the diaper bag. “He has a dentist appointment. The last thing he’ll want to do is change a tire.” She straightened and made a face. “Knowing him, he’ll spend the rest of the day zoned out on pain pills and insisting that he’s dying.”

“Who’s dying?” a voice said from behind Nick.

Becca wanted to answer that she was. Nick brought back too many memories. And she wouldn’t accept favors from him.

“Becca had a flat,” Raylene explained as she moved to greet her husband.

Nick stepped back to let Jeff pass, and the two men exchanged greetings. “I found her on the side of the road about five miles from town,” Nick explained when Jeff had given his wife a brief kiss. “I’ll have Tony take care of it. No reason for you to do it. He can drop her car at her place when it’s done.”

“But—” Becca said, hoping to find another way.

“I told you it wasn’t a problem,” Nick insisted. “Tony has plenty of help.”

“You’ll have to take him up on the offer,” Jeff said. “I have to go to the—”

“Dentist,” Nick and Becca said in unison.

“All I need to know is where she lives,” Nick went on, turning to look at her and obviously expecting an answer.

Becca had her reasons for not telling him. It would bring the past into the present. But in spite of that, it was clear that she couldn’t refuse his offer, no matter how badly she wanted to.

“The old Watkins place,” she said.

Nick was silent for a moment. “The old Watkins place?”

“Yes.”

“The one west of town?”

“You remember where it is, don’t you? About seven miles west on Morgan Creek Road. Or do you need directions?”

Nick shook his head. “Yeah. I mean, no, I don’t need directions. I remember where it is.”

While Raylene and Jeff excused themselves, Becca wondered what memories the area held for him. Were they the same as hers? Teenagers still took advantage of the double row of hedge trees on the road that ran past her house, providing seclusion for stolen kisses. And other things. She and Nick had spent more than a few nights there, before he had taken her home, talking, dreaming and…

“If it’s too far—” she began, wishing the memories away.

“No. It’s no trouble. I just—I didn’t know you lived there. I thought you lived here in town. That’s all.”

He remembered. And she needed him not to know that she did, too. “It’s nice sometimes not to have close neighbors,” she said, trying for a smile. “There’s more…privacy.”

“Yeah, I guess there is.” He stood looking at her for a moment, and then reached into his pocket. “Do you need the key to your house?”

“Oh! I’d forgotten you had it with the car key. But Raylene has an extra. She can let me in.”

“Okay, then.” He shifted from one foot to the other, as if he had something else to say. “I’ll make sure Tony gets the tire fixed first thing in the morning. You might need to go somewhere.”

“Thank you.”

“Sure. Good night.”

“Good night, Nick.”

She watched as he turned and started down the steps. He was almost to his truck when she remembered his jacket. “Wait!” she called to him. “You forgot something.” She ran to grab his jacket from a chair in the kitchen and hurried outside with it.

Nick sat waiting in his truck with the motor running. When she reached it, he rolled down his window. “You’ll need it on the way home tonight,” he said when she held it out to him. “Give it to Tony or whoever brings your car back tomorrow.”

Sensing that it wouldn’t do any good to argue, she nodded. As she watched him back out of the driveway, she shivered and quickly reminded herself that the past was over. And Nick Morelli didn’t have a place in her present—or her future.




Chapter Two


Nick gathered what patience he had left, while his brother finished the oil change on Becca’s car. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Lowering the hood of the older model Lexus, which had seen better days, Tony looked up at him. “I figured you knew.”

“No. How could I?” He hadn’t had much sleep the night before. Learning that Becca was living in the old Watkins place had been a blow. The old Victorian house had always been a favorite of his. Since he was a kid, he had wanted it for his own, but he’d never dreamed it ever would be. Not even when he had shared his dream with Becca, all those years ago.

When the opportunity to buy the house from Mrs. Watkins had presented itself three months ago, in the midst of his decision to move his construction company from Denver to Katyville, he’d jumped at the chance. She had told him there was someone living there, and he’d had his attorney take the necessary legal steps to remedy the situation and keep the transaction anonymous by sending a notice to vacate under his corporate name to the tenant. He’d been generous, giving the tenant more than the usual amount of time to move before he would start the planned renovations on the house.

Had planned.

“She’s all ready, Nick.”

Nick jerked his head up to see Tony wiping his hands on a rag. “Send the bill to her husband,” he said and turned to leave.

“Becca’s husband? I don’t know—Hey! Where are you going?”

“I have work to do,” Nick called to him from halfway across the garage. “Have Mike deliver it as soon as he can.”

Running into Becca the night before had been a surprise he could have done without. Now that he knew her car had been taken care of, he could get back to feeling guilty about making her move with a sick baby, as if that was something he had anything to do with and as if he didn’t need to be overseeing the transition of his construction company.

“Mike is gone today,” Tony called after him. “And Travis won’t be here for another twenty minutes. You’ll have to take it yourself.”

Halfway to the bay door, Nick stopped and looked back. “Not me.”

Tony gave him a slow grin. “She still getting under your skin?”

“You’re crazy,” Nick replied and continued on his way.

“She won’t have a car if you don’t take it to her.”

Nick gritted his teeth. The last thing he wanted to do was see Becca again. He hadn’t been able to forget the come-hither look in her eyes or her sexy pout when she’d opened Raylene’s door the night before. Even knowing it hadn’t been for him and was only a joke, the thought of it still did things to him he didn’t like happening.

“Nick, she and her husband—”

“Okay!” He took a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll take her car out there and Travis can pick me up as soon as he gets here.”

Fifteen minutes later, after enduring Tony’s devilish grin while he backed the car out of the garage bay, Nick slowed Becca’s car as he approached her house. His house, he reminded himself, looking for signs of life. He had driven by once to check out the house since he’d returned to Katyville, but hadn’t seen anyone outside. Too busy adjusting to the slower pace of small-town life and getting his company set up, he hadn’t inquired about his tenants. He hadn’t cared, knowing his attorney had taken care of everything. But it hadn’t been taken care of, he reminded himself. Not yet, anyway.

Determined to get this over with as soon as possible, Nick parked the car in the gravel driveway and got out, concentrating on the house and what would need to be done before he could start the renovations to bring it back to its once-glorious condition.

After a quick rap on the door, he waited, prepared to face Becca and uneasy about bringing up the subject of his ownership of the house.

The door swung open to reveal the little blond girl he had seen the night before. The spitting image of her mother, right down to the green eyes, she stood silently staring at him.

“Is your mom home?” he asked.

Her fingertip went straight to her mouth, and her wide-eyed innocence made him smile. She shook her head, sending the short, sassy ponytail she wore dancing back and forth.

He looked past her to see her older brother standing in the entryway, studying him.

“You’re the guy who helped Mom with the car last night.”

Nick nodded. “And I’ve brought her car back, all fixed again.”

The boy’s serious expression didn’t change. “Thanks.” But he seemed to be struggling with something. “My name’s Danny and this is April.”

“And I’m Nick. Nice to meet you both. And you’re welcome.” Not only had he had the flat fixed and the slow leak in the spare taken care of, but he’d also added a minor tune-up to the work order. He figured that if her husband didn’t have the sense to have it done, the guy deserved to be surprised with the bill for the work.

“Mom’s in the backyard.”

Wishing for a chance to look around inside the house, Nick thanked him, deciding it would be best to curb his curiosity until Becca knew he was now the owner. Until then, she might not appreciate him poking around.

“I can show you where,” the boy said.

“No, that’s okay. I think I can manage. And she knows I was bringing her car.”

The boy gave a stiff nod. “Close the door, April,” he told his sister.

Nick grinned as he stood staring at a door that had closed much quicker than it had opened. It was pretty clear the boy was leery of strangers. And protective of his mother.

As he walked down the steps of the broad, wraparound porch, Nick made a mental note of the repairs and materials he would need, once he could start work.

But something wasn’t right. If her husband was a stockbroker, the condition of the house sure didn’t show that he had spent time thinking about upkeep. Of course, some renters didn’t feel they needed to bother with it, and considered it the landlord’s responsibility. But what he really wanted to know was why the hell they were renting, not living in some fancy new house. And why this place?

His first reaction the night before when he had learned Becca was living here was that he would tear it down. But he had instantly known he wouldn’t let her ruin his dream. By now, Becca and her hotshot husband should have received the letter explaining the sale and the date they were to vacate. Although she hadn’t mentioned anything about moving, and he wondered why. Did she remember the plans they had made? But she couldn’t, not and live there now with her husband. She couldn’t be that heartless.

Or could she? After all, it had been ten years and—

When he turned the corner at the back of the house, he saw Becca, bringing him up short and reminding him that he would have to tell her exactly who he was—the man evicting her family.



BECCA BLEW ON HER nearly numb fingers and wished, once again, that Katyville had a Laundromat where she could sit back and read a book while her laundry tumbled until it was too hot to touch.

“There you are. I was looking for you.”

Startled by Nick’s voice, Becca dropped the shirt she was attempting to hang on the clothesline. Darn it, anyway. It figured he would show up at the worst time. Again.

His long strides brought him across the barren backyard, and he bent to retrieve the shirt from the ground. “Don’t you think this is taking fresh-smelling clothes a bit too far?” he asked, grabbing her hand and examining her fingers.

Snatching her hand away, she hid it and the other behind her back. “How would you know about fresh-smelling clothes?”

“You must’ve forgotten my Italian mother,” he answered.

Seeing that he was about as out-of-the-loop as anyone could be, she didn’t bother to tell him that she knew his mother well.

And then she did the unforgivable. She looked up and met his gaze.

His sexy, lopsided grin was all too familiar. She wished he would go away, back to Denver or anywhere besides her backyard. At least he hadn’t reminded her that the old Becca wouldn’t have been caught dead hanging clothes on a line outside, even in the best of weather.

As if he could read her thoughts, he broke the gaze holding hers. “Your car’s in the driveway,” he told her, picking two clothespins from the bag and hanging the shirt.

“You don’t need to do that.” She had the urge to shove him aside, but she knew that physical contact with him would be her undoing, so she pulled out one of Danny’s T-shirts instead and attempted to fasten it to the line with cold, trembling fingers. “And thank you for taking care of my car.”

He took a step back and crossed his arms on his broad chest, leveling his gaze on her. “How’s Daisy this morning? Any better?”

“Much better,” she answered. The baby’s fever had broken during the night, and she was breathing easier. Both of them were. There would be no trip to the emergency room this time.

He said nothing else while she finished hanging the few remaining items. When she bent to pick up the empty basket and bag of pins, he stepped forward and took them from her.

She gave him a quick smile to thank him, realizing that he wasn’t leaving immediately. “Isn’t someone here to take you back?”

“Travis should be here any minute,” he said as they walked to the house.

Just having him near set her pulse to racing, but she tried to ignore it as they stopped on the small porch leading to the back door. “There’s coffee left. Would you like a cup while you wait?”

Nick hesitated. “I’ll wait in your car, if that’s okay. It shouldn’t be long. Besides, I wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea if I went inside with you.”

“Anyone?” she asked, puzzled at his scowl.

“You know, like the neighbors or…your husband.”

She knew she should tell him the truth, but she hesitated to do it. Of course, it wouldn’t make any difference to him, but she didn’t want him thinking she was a hot divorcée looking for a new man. “Still worried about gossip?” she asked, her hand on the doorknob.

“You were the one who had the problem with gossip.”

She knew it probably had seemed that way to him, but it had been more her father’s problem than hers. “I guess so,” she said, knowing better. “Living here, outside of Katyville, has made me immune to it.”

“But I’m not immune to an angry husband who might decide to take a poke at me for drinking coffee with his wife. No matter how innocent it might be.”

Struggling with whether to be truthful or not, she opened the door and set the basket and bag of clothespins he handed her inside. Turning back to him, she knew she had to and wondered how to answer. If she told him the truth, would he think it was an invitation? But if she didn’t, he was bound to find out and wonder why she hadn’t said anything. She had only lied once, and that was to him, ten years ago. This time, she owed it to him to be honest.

“There’s no husband, angry or otherwise.”

His scowl deepened. “But I thought—”

She shook her head, not knowing what else to say and definitely not wanting to go in to the details. Standing half-inside the door, she waited for him to say something.

“You’d better get inside and get that door closed,” he finally answered. “I’ll wait here or in the car.”

Relieved and disappointed at the same time, she didn’t fail to notice that he had already taken a couple of steps off the porch. “Thanks,” she said, not knowing what else to say. “And tell Tony I’ll pay for the tire repair soon.”

“Like I said last night, it’s on the house.” Either that or he would pay it. He took a few more steps away and made it to the corner of the house. “Well, nice seeing you again, Becca.”

“You, too, Nick,” she said, but he had already disappeared.

Taking a deep breath, she let herself inside. As she moved the empty basket to a corner, she pushed all thoughts of Nick from her mind. There were more important things to think about.

The sounds of cartoon characters coming from the television in the living room assured her that Danny and April were occupied, at least for a few minutes. She’d found some cold medicine and given it to Daisy only an hour ago, so she was sure the baby would sleep for a while.

Reaching into a kitchen drawer, she took an envelope and a pad of paper from under the local phone book. The old kitchen chair scraped the linoleum when she pulled it away from the table.

“There has to be a way,” she whispered as she sat and removed the legal-looking document from the envelope. If she couldn’t find an answer, she and the kids would have nowhere to live. She needed to get control of her life. She needed just a little good news, a little break. Now.



NICK DRUMMED his fingers on the steering wheel, as he waited in Becca’s car for his ride back to the garage, his anger building by the minute. For as long as he could remember, his mother had scolded him daily for his hot, Italian temper. But, dammit, why the hell hadn’t Tony told him Becca was divorced? Why hadn’t his mother? She had told him everything else that had happened in Katyville during his absence.

He couldn’t believe his luck. He was on the verge of making a dream come true. All he needed was the old Watkins place. And it was his. His. But he couldn’t very well throw Becca and her kids out. Nobody had to tell him that she was struggling. How that could be, he didn’t know. If her stockbroker husband wasn’t paying the correct child support and alimony, surely her father would. It wasn’t his job to do it. Why should he care about her? She had made it clear ten years ago that she didn’t have any feelings or use for him.

But he really didn’t have a choice. If and when his mother got wind of any of this, there’d be hell to pay. He hadn’t mentioned the old Watkins place to any of his family, except Tony, and he was sure his brother hadn’t said anything.

His frustration hadn’t eased any after waiting twenty minutes for a ride back to the garage. Where was Travis? Clouds had rolled in and the day was getting colder. Nick pulled his jacket closer, refusing to turn on the engine to run the heater.

Getting colder and grumpier by the minute, he finally gave in and walked to the house. He had hoped he wouldn’t have to see Becca until he had a plan mapped out for telling her he was her new landlord, but he for damned sure wasn’t going to freeze in the process.

This time Becca answered his knock. “I don’t know how to thank you,” she told him when he handed her the car keys. She looked past him. “Do you need me to take you back to town? I mean, I don’t see anyone…”

He stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets. “I was wondering if I could use your phone to call Tony. I forgot my cell phone.”

“Of course,” she said, opening the door wider to let him in. “And I wouldn’t mind that cup of coffee you offered earlier. If you still have some.”

“In the kitchen. I just made a fresh pot.”

As he followed her through the house, he took the opportunity to get a closer view of what would need to be done to the interior, once he could start on the renovations. From what he could see, the house was in excellent structural shape. Much better than he had hoped, considering he doubted Mrs. Watkins had bothered with many repairs after her husband died.

“The phone’s over there.” Becca pointed to the phone on the kitchen wall.

While she poured coffee and set the filled cups on the table, he punched in the number for the garage. After several rings, Tony answered. Nick had to bite his tongue to keep from shouting at him.

“I thought you were going to pick me up,” he said, as calmly as he could.

“Something came up. Look, Nick, it’s going to be a while.”

Nick could hear Travis talking in the background, and the voice of what he assumed was a customer. Neither sounded all that happy. “How long? Any idea?”

“Half an hour. No more. Stan Perkins is leaving on a business trip, so we don’t have any more time than that.”

Nick hadn’t been prepared to spend more than fifteen minutes in Becca’s company, but he didn’t have a choice. “I’ll see you in forty-five minutes then,” he told Tony and hung up.

“Trouble?” Becca asked.

“Tony had an emergency come up, so it looks like you’ll have to put up with me a little longer.”

“Oh.” Twin lines appeared between her eyes. “I can always run you back to town,” she said with little enthusiasm. “The kids are down for naps right now. Not that Danny takes one, but…”

It was clear to Nick that she didn’t consider him being there a lucky break. “Don’t wake the kids,” he insisted. “If I’m in the way, maybe I can—”

He had a sudden thought. He was here, in his house, with the opportunity to do some poking around. This wasn’t the time to tell her the truth. He would, though. Soon. But he could take advantage of the situation and maybe make having him around a little easier for her. “Would you mind if I look around? This old place always intrigued me as a kid.”

Her worried frown deepened, but was quickly replaced with a soft smile. “It is something special, isn’t it? I hate the thought of—” Her eyes clouded for a moment and she shook her head.

Was she remembering? Or thinking about having to leave it?

But she smiled again, even though it was weak. “I’ll give you a quick tour and show you where the best things are, if you want me to. Then you can wander all you want.”

For Nick, it was the perfect suggestion, although he didn’t see the need for the tour. “Sounds good to me. Lead the way.”

“We’ll start here in the kitchen,” she said, her cheeks coloring with pink. “I guess that’s pretty easy to figure out.”

As she pointed out some of the things that would be considered unusual for a newer house, Nick noticed that she relaxed. By the time they reached the stairs and she was showing him the hidden storage space under the staircase, he had made several mental notes about things he hadn’t been aware of.

“I’ve been in here before,” he told her.

She turned to look at him. “Really? When?”

Apparently she didn’t remember that he had told her the story when they were younger. Relieved, he looked over his shoulder, pretending to make sure no one was listening. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

She shook her head, her green eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Well,” he said, lowering his voice to a more intimate level, “when I was about nine years old, Corey Jacobs and I walked out here from town one night and pried open a window.”

Her gasp ended with a smothered, girlish giggle. “Didn’t anybody catch you? I mean, somebody would have heard you, wouldn’t they?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Watkins were away. I knew they would be because they’d had their car tuned up for a long road trip.” He smiled, remembering how scared he and Corey had been that someone would drive by and see the light from their flashlights inside the house. “Of course, it was different than it is now. They had some pretty old-fashioned furnishings in here. And the floors creak more now than they did then. But that’s easy to fix.”

Becca leaned against the wall and sighed. “I like those old creaks. I remember when Mr. Watkins was still alive and the two of them would come into town. He was such a gentleman. But even then, she was a crotchety old thing. I never could understand how the two of them managed to stay married for so long. But I guess opposites attract.”

Nick nodded, seeing the couple in his mind as they had been in his childhood. “Bill Watkins was a fine man. My dad always said he had the patience of a saint.”

Becca laughed softly. “My mom used to say Vera Watkins had the tongue of a serpent.”

But her laugh quickly faded. Nick wished it back again, but quickly chided himself. Whether Becca Malone was happy or not didn’t change anything for him. But he couldn’t help hoping to see another smile. Before he could think of something to say, he heard the phone ring.

“Go on upstairs,” she told him. “If you’re quiet, you won’t wake the kids. They’re used to me coming and going during nap time.”

She disappeared into the kitchen to answer the phone, and he quickly pulled out a notebook from his back pocket that held his notes for the house. He was constantly thinking of things he wanted to do to with the place when the time came that he could. Seeing it up close again, he knew nothing could make him destroy it, not even the memories of sharing his dream with Becca.

There were a number of repairs that needed to be made. In several places, some of the decorative molding at the ceiling had been damaged and would need fixing or replacing. And Becca might like the creaky floors, but to Nick that meant there might be some warping. At least from what he could tell, nothing had caused them to slant from settling over the years. The foundation was obviously in very good shape.

He was curious about the heating and started for the kitchen to ask Becca if she would mind if he took a look at the furnace, but as he approached the doorway into the room, he could hear her side of the phone conversation.

“Yes, I know it’s due the first of the month—today, Mrs. Watkins,” she was saying. “And I know I’ll have to pay a penalty for being late…again…Yes, I know we don’t have much time left before we have to leave. I have your letter and the notice to vacate right here…. I hope to have the money to you by the end of next week, at the latest. Perhaps if you’d give me the name of the new owner, maybe I could…Yes, I understand…goodbye.”

Nick wasn’t sure whether to walk in as if he hadn’t heard a thing or whether to try to make it back to the stairs before she reappeared. He heard the sound of papers being shuffled and then a sniff. A sliver of guilt gnawed at him, but he didn’t get a chance to deal with it. Becca came out of the kitchen with her head down and ran into him.

His arms instinctively went around her to steady her when they collided. It was the wrong thing to do.

“I—I’m so sorry,” she blurted, attempting to take a step back, but unable to do so as he held her. “I have…I’ve had some bad news.”

Torn by a sudden urge to comfort her, but knowing it would only make matters worse, Nick released her. Stepping back, he did his best to ignore the glitter of tears in her eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?” he dared to ask.

“Yes. I mean, no.” She turned around, hiding her face. Her drooping shoulders lifted, and then squared as she took a deep breath. When she faced him again, there were no tears glistening in her eyes, and she wore a weak smile. “I’m sorry, Nick. It isn’t something I feel comfortable talking about right now. Suffice it to say that Mrs. Watkins is no longer my landlady. This place has just been sold.”

He swallowed. Hard. Here was his opportunity to tell her the truth. But he couldn’t. He’d freeze, walking back to town, and she’d have to be a saint not to toss him out the door, if he told her. Not to mention that he couldn’t add to her misery. Not right now.

Becca shook her head and walked into the living room, while Nick followed. “I never would have thought she would sell this house. I didn’t know she was even thinking about doing it. In fact, I thought she was happy I’d rented it—it stood empty for a long time after she moved into Katyville. And now she’s sold it to some corporation. I don’t know why. Maybe she needed the extra income. I still pay my rent to her, but she just told me that she forwards it on to the new owner. Or owners. I suspect they’ll tear it down.”

A tiny prick of guilt stabbed at him. Hadn’t he thought of doing just that? He opened his mouth to tell her that wouldn’t happen and instantly shut it. He couldn’t let on that he knew anything about this. Saying nothing would be best, until he was prepared to tell her the truth. Lying wasn’t something he did, as a rule. His parents had taught him that truth was always the best option, and the consequences for not telling it would be a lot worse than what the truth would get him. He knew he would have to deal with the consequences of this later. When the time was right—and it definitely wasn’t right at the moment—he would find a way to tell her.

“So what does that mean for you? And the kids?” he asked, hoping she had found another place to live by now.

Sinking to the sofa, she hung her head, her hands tightly clasped in her lap. “It means we have to leave. We have until the first Monday after the New Year to pack and find a new home.”

“A little over a month then.” An easy thing for him to say, since he’d been counting down the time when the house would be empty. “Where will you move?”

She shook her head, her lips set in a thin line.

“You don’t know?” he asked in disbelief.

She shook her head again.

He felt like the world’s biggest jerk. He didn’t need the extra money, but because he preferred that the sale remain anonymous until he was ready to make it known, his lawyer had suggested that the rent continue to be sent to Mrs. Watkins, who would then send it to his attorney for deposit. He sure hadn’t counted on the tenant being someone he knew, let alone Becca. In fact, he had been in such a rush to close the deal, and so busy making arrangements to move his very lucrative construction company to Katyville, he had left everything up to his attorney.

“I don’t mean to whine to you,” she said, her voice quivering. “But you did ask.” She sniffed again, and then looked up at him with a watery smile. “I truly am sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Right. He’d worry about it enough for the both of them.

“If only we had until spring.”

But by spring, Nick hoped to have most of the interior repairs done and be ready to start on the outside. He hadn’t taken into consideration that a single mother and her three kids might be homeless because of his dream. Knowing it was Becca didn’t make it easier, no matter what she had done to him in the past. Helping her sure wasn’t a part of his plan—until now.

“Somebody’s here!” Danny shouted from upstairs, relieving Nick from commenting or having to make any rash decisions.

“It must be Travis,” Nick said, more than ready to leave.

After thanking her for the coffee and the tour of the house, he said goodbye and hurried outside to the waiting truck.

Climbing in, he slammed the door. “I have you to thank for this mess I’m in.”

Tony looked at him. “I learned a long time ago to mind my own business, so don’t blame your troubles on me.”

Nick realized he was being unreasonable and let out a long sigh. “You should’ve told me Becca was single again.”

Putting the truck in gear, Tony grunted. “Why? It wouldn’t have made any difference.”

Nick considered it and wasn’t sure his brother wasn’t right. Over the past ten years, he hadn’t grown any fonder of Becca. Not that he hadn’t thought of her. But he had always resented the way she had so casually dumped him. By the time he heard she had married, he wasn’t in the mood to wish her well. After that, he did his best to forget her. And now this had happened.

“At least I would’ve known what I was up against,” he managed to reply.

“Nick, the thorough planner,” Tony replied with a touch of disgust, as he backed the truck down the drive and onto the road.

“It’s worked well to this point.”

“Yeah? What about—” Tony pressed his lips together and shook his head.

Nick knew he was thinking of Edie, his ex-wife. “There are some things you can’t plan for,” he said.

Tony avoided looking at him as they headed for Katyville. “So what do you do when something like that happens?”

Nick shrugged, thinking of how he had handled what he called the bumps in the road. “Regroup. Find another way.” And that was exactly what he would do now.




Chapter Three


“Mom?”

Becca turned from the window where she had been watching Nick climb into Tony’s truck. “Rest time isn’t over yet, Danny.”

He scrunched up his face and shrugged. “But I need to ask you something.”

Taking him by the hand, she led him to the sofa and pulled him onto her lap. “What is it, honey?”

“That…that man that brought you to Raylene’s last night…”

“Nick,” she prompted with a nod.

“Yeah, him. Well, you know, you always told us never to talk to strangers and I know you had to when he stopped to help you with the car, but isn’t that kinda danger…dangerous?”

Becca smiled. He was far too wise for his five years. From the moment his dad had left them, Danny had been her protector. The man of the house. He never stopped looking out for her and his sisters.

“You don’t have to worry,” she told him, brushing his hair away from his eyes. “Nick isn’t a stranger. I knew him a long, long time ago, when I was young.”

Danny tipped his head up and looked at her, his blue eyes serious. “You’re not old, Mom.”

She couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up inside her. “Okay. When I was younger. How’s that?”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. When he looked at her again, she couldn’t read his expression. “Do you…” He ducked his head.

“Do I what?”

He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, then looked up at her. “Do you like him?”

Completely taken by surprise, Becca wasn’t sure how to answer. “Like him?” she repeated. “He’s a friend, I guess. Is that what you mean?”

His lips curved up in a mischievous smile. “Sort of.”

“Now, Danny—”

“It’s okay, Mom. I just wanted to make sure he was okay, that’s all. And if he wants to come around, that’s okay, too.”

“Oh, really?” She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Or maybe it was to keep from crying. She wasn’t sure which. There was no reason for Nick to come around again. In fact, she hoped he wouldn’t. He couldn’t do anything to help her, even if he wanted to, and she was pretty sure he didn’t. He really, really didn’t understand her situation. While it was true that he hadn’t had the advantages she’d had growing up, she doubted he had ever lived in fear of losing his home or worrying about how to feed his family. But for her—

The phone rang, and Danny jumped from her lap, shouting, “I’ll get it!” as he ran to the kitchen. Becca hoped it wasn’t Mrs. Watkins calling to hassle her for the rent money again.

Danny poked his head through the doorway. “It’s Grandpa,” he announced with a sour expression.

Becca’s heart stopped momentarily, but revived instantly to beat a heavy thud. Her father rarely called, so it must be important. She took the phone from her son and covered the mouthpiece. “Go check on your sisters for me, will you?”

As soon as he was out of the room, she put the receiver to her ear. “Hello, Daddy. What a surprise to hear from you.”

“Surprise? Why would you be surprised after sending a request for money?”

She bit back the threatening groan. She had completely forgotten, in a moment of madness, that she had written her father and asked for some help with the rent. “Oh, that.”

“Yes, that,” he grumbled. “Do you think I have money to throw away?”

Bristling at the inference that a small loan from him would compare to wasting money, she quickly and silently counted to ten. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not losing any sleep, that’s for sure. If you’d been the wife you should’ve been to Jason, you wouldn’t be doing without.”

If only her father had really known the man he had chosen for her, he wouldn’t have the nerve to say the things he said. But there was no sense telling her father that. As always, he was right and she was wrong. “It really doesn’t matter, Daddy. It’s a done deal now. I just found myself a little pinched for money, that’s all.”

She’d found herself a lot pinched for money. The child support Jason was ordered to pay was always late and often not the full amount, when he even bothered to pay it. For the most part, when he did, it kept the four of them fed and a roof over their heads, but little more. She had been looking for work, but she hadn’t found anything just yet.

“So how are things down under?” she asked, changing the subject. Discussion of Jason would always be to his advantage and never to hers.

“It’s hot, and Cecily is waiting for me to join her on the beach. Before I forget, look for some Christmas gifts in the mail for your kids. Ceci picked them out. I don’t have any idea what would suit them.”

You would if you took the time to know them. But she couldn’t come right out and say that to him. No matter how far away he was now, he still had a measure of control over her, so she thanked him instead. “I’m sure they’ll enjoy whatever you’ve sent,” she added.

When the brief conversation ended, Becca leaned against the wall next to the phone and closed her eyes. The house was peacefully silent. She suspected all was well with the girls and Danny had found something to immerse himself in. She tried so hard to keep a happy face in front of her children, but some days were harder than others.

Opening her eyes, the first thing she saw was the coffee cup Nick had used. The sight of it spurred her into action. She wasn’t going to think about Nick. She wasn’t going to worry about the rent, the bills, or moving. She had things to do. There was laundry to finish and the boxes in her trunk to bring in. These were the things she could control. Daisy and April would be waking up soon, and once that happened, she wouldn’t have time for feeling sorry for herself.

As she started to work, she flipped on the television to catch the noon news, expecting to hear something about the comet she had seen the night before. To her dismay, there was nothing mentioned. By the time the program was over, her family was awake and clamoring for her attention.

After fixing lunch and entertaining them with a game of hide-and-seek, she was exhausted, but her chores weren’t done. Standing in the laundry room, she watched the water inch its way across the old linoleum floor, while the washer did nothing. No agitator gyrating from side to side. No hum of the wash getting clean. Nothing happening but that steady, slow trickle of water.

“Looks like you have a problem.”

She jumped at the sound of the voice and turned, surprised to see Nick.

“Danny let me in,” he explained. “Tony forgot to put the stroller back in the trunk, so I told him I’d drop it off. I left it on the porch.”

“You didn’t need to do that.”

“I was out, anyway,” he said with a shrug. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a folded paper and handed it to her. “My sister moved this summer and kept the list she’d made of possible rentals. I thought it would save you some time.”

“Thanks.” She scanned the well-compiled list, wondering how she was supposed to come up with a deposit, when she couldn’t even come up with enough for one month’s rent. “Ann-Marie always was an organized person.”

“My sister is a pack rat.”

“Yes, but an organized pack rat. It makes a difference,” she told him with a smile. She knew all of his family well.

He stared at her, their gazes locking until he finally looked away. Becca felt the warmth flow through her body and wished he would go away. She didn’t need him here, bringing lists that were of no use to her and looks that threatened to melt her on the spot.

“Want me to take a look at that?” he asked, indicating the washing machine with a nod.

Becca wasn’t sure she wanted to be beholden to him any more than she already was, but they needed clean clothes. “Do you know anything about washers?”

“Enough to know if they can be fixed or not.”

She couldn’t be sure if he was serious, but once again she wasn’t in a position to refuse him. “I guess that’s better than nothing and a lot more than I know. What can I do to help?”

He was already reaching behind the machine to turn off the water. “There’s a toolbox out in the back of my truck. If you’d get it, I’ll see what I can do here.”

Relieved to escape, Becca grabbed her jacket and scooted out the door. The wind had picked up, blowing dirt and swirling around her legs, chilling her to the bone. Hurrying to his truck, she noticed the company logo on the side and came to a halt.

“Big Sky Construction,” she whispered, staring at the graphic of stars, complete with a comet that looked like the twin of the one she had seen. She hadn’t noticed it the night before. But then she had been in a state of shock at seeing Nick.

In the bed of the pickup truck, she found a red metal toolbox, but when she tried to pick it up, she could barely lift it. Putting all her effort into it, she finally managed to slide it to the edge of the tailgate and dragged it off, nearly smashing her toes in the process. She took a deep breath and squatted the way she had seen weight lifters on TV lift hundreds of pounds, and was finally able to pick it up from the ground. The distance to the house seemed like miles. She carried it with both hands gripping the handle, convinced her arms would be several inches longer. If she ever made it inside, she thought with a grimace of pain.

Getting up the back porch steps was the hardest part, and she kicked at the door, hoping someone would open it for her.

“Stay back,” she puffed in warning, when the door opened to two small, curious faces. Danny and April made a wide berth for her as she struggled with the last few steps into the tiny laundry room. The box landed with a loud thud less than a foot behind Nick. Bent down and looking at the workings of the machine, he jumped back and nearly knocked her over.

“I’m sorry,” she said when he turned to frown at her. “It was a little on the heavy side.”

He looked at the toolbox and then at her, frowning. “No, I should be the one apologizing. I didn’t think about how heavy it is.”

With one hand, she massaged the muscles in her other arm. “And I thought my kids were heavy to carry around,” she said, attempting a weak laugh.

Taking a step forward, he rubbed her arms. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” But she wasn’t, especially when he stopped rubbing but didn’t move his hands from her arms. She took a step to back up, and he jerked away as if he’d been burned. She watched as he opened the toolbox and dug through it, not sure if she should stay or go. “Can I do anything else to help?”

His hand stilled on a wrench. “Another cup of coffee would be nice.”

There was a strange quality to his voice, and he didn’t look at her as he went straight to the back of the machine without a glance. She didn’t know how, but she was pretty certain she had made him mad.

“I’ll fix a fresh pot,” she said, then hurried out of the laundry room.

Glad to escape again, she tried to ignore the fact that Nick was less than ten feet away. She wasn’t successful. The sounds of him moving around were a constant reminder. While he worked, she prayed that the machine would be simple to fix and that Nick would be gone soon. She didn’t seem to be able to do or say anything right when he was around.



NICK LET OUT the breath he was holding when he was sure Becca was safely out of the room. What had he been thinking, sending her out to get his toolbox? Oh, he knew what he’d been thinking. And it wasn’t the kind of thoughts he wanted to be having, and the reason he had sent her on the errand. But even now, with the challenge of fixing the washing machine on his mind, he still couldn’t stop thinking about her. He could hear her running water in the kitchen. He could hear her moving, and he could imagine watching her. Becca looked even better than he had remembered. Still on the slender side, her body had rounded and softened. The kind of body men dreamed of holding and touch—

“Ouch!”

“Are you all right?” she called from the kitchen.

“Just great,” he said, trying not to grit his teeth at the pain in his smashed finger. If he didn’t get his mind on what he was doing, he’d be a mangled mess before he could ever get the damned machine working again.

After forcing himself to concentrate on the task at hand, he was deep into the internal workings of the washer when he chanced to look up. Becca’s son stood silently watching him. Nick leaned back against the wall, needing a break. Washing machines weren’t his specialty, and it had been a while since he had watched his dad repair the family’s washer.

“Can you fix it?” the boy asked, his expression too solemn for someone his size.

Nick was going more on hope than memory. “I think so. Might take a little time, though.” When the boy continued to study him, Nick shifted his position. “You don’t mind, do you?”

The boy shook his head, but didn’t move from the spot.

Nick gestured for him to move closer. “Ever see the motor of one of these things?”

“No.”

“Pretty simple,” Nick said. Picking up a screwdriver, he kept talking, pointing out some of the parts he could name. As he talked, the boy moved closer, and he could remember himself at the same age. He had thought his father knew everything there was to know about anything. Still did, sometimes, even though he knew it wasn’t true. He had a good relationship with his father and couldn’t imagine what it would have been like not to have had him around when he was a kid.

“Do you like machines?” Nick asked.

“I guess.”

Nick didn’t miss the shrug of his small shoulders. “Yeah, I feel the same way. Now, my brother Tony really likes them. But me? I like wood.”

“Wood?”

Keeping his attention on the work, Nick kept talking. “Yeah, like building things. You know. I like the feel of it in my hands. Sometimes it can be rough, sometimes as smooth as a baby’s bu—Uh, skin. There’s a lot you can do with wood.”

“I made a birdhouse once,” the boy said, hunkering down beside him. “It wasn’t very good, though.”

“Did you like making it?”

He nodded.

“Then that’s what matters. As long as you enjoyed yourself.”

“My dad never made things.”

Nick’s chest tightened at the face so devoid of emotion and wondered why the boy had used the past tense. Hadn’t Becca’s ex-husband been a good dad? Didn’t he spend time with the boy now? Nick couldn’t imagine any man not wanting to spend time with his son. Even though his own dad had spent hours at the garage, there had always been time for his sons. And daughters. But as much as Nick wanted to know more about Becca’s ex-husband and what was happening, it wasn’t his place to ask. Or to judge. “Not everybody likes it.”

“Danny?”

Nick looked up to see Becca standing in the doorway, Daisy on her hip.

“You aren’t bothering Nick, are you?” She looked from one to the other, her worry obvious.

“He’s helping.” Nick got to his feet and turned on the water faucets. “Give it a try, Danny.”

The boy stood on tiptoe to reach the dial and pushed it in. They watched as the tub filled, then the motor kicked in and began agitating.

“It works!” Danny shouted.

Even Nick was somewhat surprised at his handiwork. “Want to give me a hand putting the back panel on?” he asked the boy.

“Can I?”

The joy on Danny’s face was almost too much for Nick. Hadn’t Mr. Stockbroker ever fixed anything? He handed Danny the screwdriver. “Help me line up the holes. When I get the screws slipped in, you screw ’em in tight, okay?”

Danny’s head bobbed up and down.

Nick looked to see how Becca was reacting, but she was gone. He was sorry that she was missing how well Danny was doing. Spending this time with the boy had gotten his mind off the boy’s mother. And Nick was more than grateful for that.

When they had finished the repair job, Danny insisted on helping Nick put the tools away. With one hand on the boy’s shoulder and the other carrying the toolbox, Nick walked into the kitchen with Danny.

“We’ll have to do this again sometime,” Nick said, thinking of the renovations he would soon be doing. Maybe Becca would let him borrow Danny. Then again, maybe not. Not after she learned the truth.

“Would you like to stay for supper?” Becca turned from stirring a pot on the stove. “It isn’t much. Stew, actually, but there’s plenty of it.”

She looked so pretty, with her face flushed from the heat of the stove, that Nick was nearly struck speechless. “Well, uh, it smells good, but I need to get going,” he finally managed to say.

“My mom’s a good cook,” Danny said proudly.

Nick ruffled the boy’s hair, but didn’t take his eyes off Becca. “I’ll bet she is.”

“He’s prejudiced,” she said.

When Danny slipped away, Becca and the aroma of the food she was cooking drew Nick to take the few steps that brought him to stand directly behind her. Peering over her shoulder, he breathed in. “Sure smells good.”

“The invitation is still open,” she said without turning.

But Nick wasn’t thinking only about the food. Becca smelled even better than the stew she was stirring. It wouldn’t take much to imagine what a happy little domestic scene this could be. He could see himself after a hard day’s work, stepping closer and slipping his arms around her. He’d pull her next to him. She’d protest with a laugh, then he’d nuzzle her neck and she’d turn in his arms, that sexy look in her—

“Raylene said you’re staying at your parents’ house while you’re here.”

“Huh?” Nick blinked and the vision vanished. Becca hadn’t moved an inch. What the hell was he thinking? He needed to leave. Get outside and get some fresh air. He took a small step back, then another. “Oh, yeah. My parents. For a while. And I’d better get going before someone starts looking for me.”

After tapping her wooden spoon on the edge of the pot and putting on a lid, Becca turned around. “I’m in your debt again and can only say thank you. That’s not right.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He shifted his toolbox to the other hand, shocked by his own crazy imagination. One more reason to stay away from her whenever possible. “If you have any questions about Ann-Marie’s list, give her a call. She said she’d be happy to help.”

Becca nodded.

Nick started for the living room, spied Danny watching TV, and turned back. “Would it be okay if I showed Danny my truck? I think he’d get a kick out of all the tools and stuff in it.”

At the mention of her son, she offered a grateful smile. “Of course. Just make sure he puts his coat on.”

Nick waited while Danny buttoned up in an almost-too-small coat. As the two of them walked down the porch steps, Nick promised himself that this would be it. He had rescued Becca on a lonely country road, had her flat tire fixed, her oil changed and her car checked over for any other problems. He’d given her a list of places to move and repaired her washing machine. He’d even taken a special liking to her son.

But no more.

Tomorrow he’d be at the job site for the new housing development, getting everything set up for Monday’s full day. There wouldn’t be time to help Becca. A good thing, too, because every time he did something for her, the past crept closer, and he forgot about the most important part—she had dumped him, and not in a nice way. He couldn’t forget about that. Not and get his house.




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