Escape to Whispering Creek

12

Emma hung up the phone and stretched her arms toward the ceiling. Thursday and Friday were booked solid, and she had avoided overtime for her accommodating employer. Not an easy task with Derek out until Monday and Cole leaving this afternoon. At the end of work, she’d have logged in three days of pay. With Sam heading to Whispering Creek, she was losing her sounding board and sanity keeper. Thank God the Donoven family was supportive. Even she and Wade had slipped into a routine.

The customer waiting room door opened. Sam entered as if summoned, her arms overloaded with a large brown sack and drink tray.

Emma raced to help her friend. She opened the hallway door and grabbed the cardboard cupholder. “Let me help.” Her stomach rumbled as the waft of coffee beans and a hint of orange zest enlivened her senses. The stale office air could use a strategically placed rosemary infused vanilla candle.

“I come bearing lunch and good news.” Sam set the large bag on top of the mini fridge. “Fran’s husband called, and Fran is out of surgery, in a hospital room, and doing well. She’s going home tomorrow.”

“That’s wonderful. I’ve been praying for her.” The sooner Fran recovered, the sooner the Donoven family could do business as usual. Emma could find a permanent job with a glowing recommendation and not have any gaps on her resume. She wouldn’t complain about spending the month with an attractive boss who wore humility and denim well. That combination was difficult to find in the workplace.

Sam handed her a drink. “They didn’t have chamomile tea, but I thought you might need a mid-day pick-me-up. Enjoy your Orange Blossom Brigadoon.”

“Do you know me or what?” Emma sipped the succulent scented liquid. The warmth helped ease the loneliness seeping into her spirit at losing her bestie to Whispering Creek. “I didn’t sleep much last night and keeping track of technicians is jumbling my brain.”

Plopping into Wade’s office chair, Sam removed her coat and used her boot heels to scooch closer. “Where’s Wade?” She scanned the office as if Wade might appear in the hallway.

“One of the guys got back early and drove him to the bank.” Emma sat in front of the main computer. With the caffeinated tea entering her blood stream, she could don a cape with a lightning rod insignia and twirl around the waiting room.

“I’m serious, Em. If this job gets to be too much, I will come and get you. With as fast as news cycles turn, Ron will be forgotten by the weekend. I even cleaned out space in Cole’s truck before I came over in case you changed your mind.”

“Cole let you drive his truck? Now, that’s love.” She squinted at the schedule on the screen. “Loverboy should be here in about fifteen minutes.”

“Then grab your choice of sandwich before the carnivores arrive.” Sam handed her the brown sack.

“Hope you’re right about the media.” Emma opened the bag and chose a veggie wrap before returning the food to Sam. “I feel like I’m living in an alternate reality. I made the newspaper for high school plays and the Dean’s List, but never white-collar crime. I keep asking God why this happened to me. I liked the idea of making people’s lives special. Especially in their golden years. I even prayed about accepting the position with Ron and felt a sense of peace. Now, look at me.”

“Oh, Em. I don’t know why this is happening either, but I know that you are a blessing to me and the Donovens. God will work all this out. Just wait and see.” Sam held her sub sandwich high and came in for a side-armed hug.

Having someone in her life who truly cared and shared her faith in Jesus rallied Emma’s resolve. A few more weeks in Tennessee was no big deal. She liked the mild winter and making new friends. Mike, Linda, and Wade had stepped up in a big way by giving her employment and opening their home. Wade’s initial doubts about her abilities had waned, and he was fast becoming someone who brightened her day. She hoped she’d be around to see his last triumph and celebrate a driving release.

Sam pulled away and began unwrapping her lunch. “The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my —”

“Deliverer. Psalm 18:2.” The delight of remembering her old Sunday school project had Emma smiling. “How did you remember Herbie’s verse?”

“Come on.” Sam sputtered her lips. “We made those in fifth grade. I don’t think Herbie swamped that stone until our freshman year in high school. I think my cactus died after a month. I can’t even remember my verse, so I adopted yours.”

“I’ve been remembering the beginning of that psalm every time I get the creepy feeling that someone is watching me.” A shiver pimpled her skin. She bit into her sandwich and leaned against the counter desk grateful for the buffer and the anonymity that Nashville offered.

“That’s your overactive imagination. No one in Tennessee has heard of Ron Runyard.” Sam piled potato chip bags on the counter. She extracted her phone from the back pocket of her jeans. “Before I leave, why don’t you call your mom. I know you haven’t been using your phone much. Your mom is probably worried.”

The hospital was the only place she had used her phone in Tennessee. Could phone records be hacked? Ron and Annette stole money. They weren’t private investigators, were they? She was curious if reporters had been by Home ScentSations. Her parents worked hard and didn’t need to be devoured by the media. Neither did she, but she had been the duped participant in a fraud.

“Thanks for the offer.” Emma bit her lip. “I’ll give my mom a quick call before Wade returns.” She swept breadcrumbs from her hands and tapped Sam’s phone.

“Sam?” Hearing her mother’s voice cinched Emma’s heart. She couldn’t pop over after work for dinner or stop by the store and inventory candles. She even missed seeing a few snowflakes.

“It’s me, Mom. Sam’s heading back to Whispering Creek, so she’s letting me use her phone.”

“How long are you staying?” Her mom’s voice held an ethereal tone like it had when her dad was in ICU, and her mom couldn’t remember the simplest to-do list for their business. The weight of being an only child grew heavier in times of crisis. She wished she could be in two places at one time. In her parent’s stockroom and in the office with Wade.

“For a month. My job will last about that long. Long enough for the press to forget about me. Has the mayor’s niece been bothering you and dad?” Her neck muscles tightened at the thought of someone harassing her parents.

“She came by the store last weekend. Mall security was called. I haven’t seen anyone, but one of the gals thought she saw her again. Wearing a wig, no less. It’s obvious you’re not here. What do they think? We’re hiding you among the boxes of candles.”

Emma grinned. The thought had crossed her mind. She relaxed in the office chair and praised God that her parents’ store operated as usual.

“The way time is flying, I’ll be home before you know it.” Home. Her throat grew thick. “I love you. I’m praying for you and Dad.” Even though her parents thought prayer was useless and that God was only a word written in black ink on wispy paper.

“We love you, too. You’re in our thoughts daily.” No prayers. Only impotent thoughts or moody vibes.

The waiting room door opened. Wade and Cole entered.

“My boss is here. I’ve got to go. I’ll try to call soon. Love you.” She ended the call and already missed the familiar and easy banter with her mom. The newness of Tennessee and all the changes in her life had her feeling like a loose, untied balloon swerving through the air. She tapped her shoes on the office floor. Her fingers instinctively went to grasp her silver charm. Her work oxford prohibited a single caress with its high buttons. She bit her sandwich and willed herself to forge ahead for twenty-one more days, maybe less.

Sam stood and waved. “We’ve got food.”

Best male attention getter ever.

Wade shuffled into the office. His cane hung from his arm. He balanced well without assistance. She’d whoop at his accomplishment if she wasn’t on duty.

He brushed hair out of his eye and cleared his throat. “Did everything go okay while I was gone?”

Was he expecting another disaster? Her gaze settled on his blue eyes, and the world stopped for half a heartbeat.

“It went perfect.” She tamped down a blush or an exuberant smile. Sam would be searching for any dimple or the slightest mouth movement. Emma stayed stoic.

He held out a white paper sack. “I brought you some local fare. Candy with peanuts, marshmallow, and milk chocolate. It’s a Nashville favorite.”

Was Wade thinking about her on his bank run? Her body temperature spiked to tropical. She took a deep breath and tried to calm her traitor of a hot flash. She’d be leaving in a few weeks when Ron Runyard was a ghost of a memory.

“Sounds yummy. Thank you.” She smiled a professional smile as if the boss bringing her chocolate was an everyday occurrence. He knew she wouldn’t be here long and probably hoped to boost her spirits.

She kept repeating the platonic reasoning because Wade was her boss and the reason she received an envelope of cash as a paycheck. She couldn’t allow him to become her Nashville favorite.

~*~

“Slow down!” Wade squeezed the door handle of the service van and clutched the sack with their chicken dinner. The van slowed.

Emma cast a glance in his direction. She reminded him of his strict third-grade teacher or how Cole looked when Wade dunked a basketball over his head. Her strict and sassy expression suited her too well. His insides felt funny, and it wasn’t from the threat of another crash. He had to keep their relationship professional. The last thing he needed was a harassment lawsuit after the accident and dog bite.

“I was slowing down. I know this is an unmarked intersection.” Her hair flipped side to side as she checked the cross street. “Your dad drove this the other day.”

“Sorry.” The moment after he said the word, he laughed and relaxed his death grip on their chicken tenders.

“Tomorrow is bring a quarter to work day.” Her face swept into a teasing grin.

“I’ll be quiet and let the GPS guide you to my house.” Almost two months ago, his life had taken a nosedive. Going back to living on his own was like opening an old yearbook. He hoped his mom and dad had tidied up the place when they dropped off his stuff. He couldn’t remember doing much the last time he stopped by.

His parents were going out to eat after visiting Derek and dropping off some food. Were they celebrating one less house guest? His mom was probably texting her book club. Emma wasn’t around during the day, but in the evenings, they could talk recipes and royal drama. Or books. He didn’t read much except for appliance manuals or blueprints.

“Must be nice living close to your parents.” Emma turned down his street and kept her speed to a minimum.

Okay, so she was a competent driver.

“It has its positives and negatives.” Right now, he had Emma close by to chauffeur him to work. The positive column was winning.

“It’s on the right.” He pointed to the tan house with the navy shutters. “God gave me two of the best parents. I don’t know what I would have done without their help. Probably gone to some rehab place.” He shivered at the vision of blood, hospital beds, and blinding pain. He didn’t want to dwell on the days of lying in bed unable to comprehend what day it was.

After parking in his driveway, Emma pointed to the red and white sack warming his thigh through his jeans. “Shall we divvy up dinner?”

Should they? He’d lived in the Donoven household long enough to know it wasn’t polite to send someone off to eat alone. His house sat empty, ready to be used again. He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. Was that a metaphor for his life? He had sat on the sidelines with an injury, and now he was ready to get back into the game and quarterback a new set of downs. Why not invite Emma in. They’d eaten meals together since she arrived. This meal was nothing special. Poor girl was too scared to use her phone to call in an order.

“We can eat here. Food will be cold by the time you drive to my folks.” He flapped his hand toward the front door. “Place hasn’t been condemned in my absence.” He prayed the waft of peppery chicken batter masked the smell of a closed up, vacant house.

Emma hopped out of the van and came around to his side of the vehicle lugging her backpack. “I’ll take the food since you have the cane.” Her nose scrunched. “You didn’t use your cane when you and Cole arrived at the office earlier.”

Did she think he was faking? No, not Emma. She’d seen him in pain. A caring attitude filled her bone marrow. She showed compassion when Derek was injured and her patience with customers was heaven sent. “Cole dared me to try and walk without it.” The grandpa reference would not be named. “He also said he’d catch me if I fell.” Wade closed the van door and headed toward the front porch with his cane ready but not supporting his weight. He fumbled in his pocket for his house key. “I don’t want to think what would happen if I fell on you. We’ve got enough employees injured.”

“Yeah. I never was a good catcher.” Emma followed him inside. “I tried the position in fourth grade and a softball took a wicked bounce off the plate. I think I still have a scar under my chin.”

He led her into the family room which sat to the left of the entry.

“We can eat in here. I’d like to watch TV and hear what they’re saying about the upcoming AFC Championship Game. Nashville is so close to winning it all.” Wade hung his cane on the back of the couch. He had done two short walks today unassisted. Making it into the kitchen shouldn’t be a problem. It was walkin’ Wednesday. “I’ll get some plates.”

“This is awesome.” Emma ran her hand over the back of his L-shaped leather couch.

No one had ever praised his couch before. His mom called it man-cave brown. He didn’t know why, but Emma’s few words of encouragement bolstered his ego. Her praise was like a scoop of tin roof ice cream in root beer.

“Having the sofas in a U-shape makes it easier to see the flat screen.” He leaned over the arm of the couch and turned on the television.

“That, and you can use the angles for physical therapy.” She strolled around his furniture. “You have the backs of the couches to steady you and this big open space in the front to practice your balance. It’s perfect.” Her smile lit the room brighter than the overhead lighting. “You’ll be cruising around without your cane in no time.”

Only Emma could turn his living space into a rehab center. She did seem to care about his health, diving right in to help his recovery. Was that what he needed? What his family needed? A fresh set of eyes to get him over the last hurdles. Emma had enough energy to deal with his nagging ailments and occasionally depressed spirit.

Emma perched on the couch, rocking back and forth as if to get comfortable. Memories of their first pizza night flashed in his brain. “I get dibs on the first tenders since you critiqued my driving. Hurry up, but don’t fall, boss.” Her sassy smile surfaced.

He hid his smirk. What had Cole and Sam unleashed on him? She had only been around a few days, and she was ordering him about in his own home. Worst part about it, he liked her spunk. She was a quick learner in the office, and her pushiness had helped with pain relief in his arm and strength in his leg. He shook his head as he returned with plates. Time would tell if she made employee of the month.

Cartons of chicken, ranch fries, and corn were opened and arranged in a line on the coffee table. His stark living room felt alive with her lounging on a cushion and organizing dinner. She even had the wrapping stripped from the plastic silverware. He embraced the calm after a busy day at work. Emma seemed to be settling into a routine, too.

He sat next to Emma and prayed over their chicken and sides. Grabbing the remote, he turned to the news station. Sports was in the “coming up” box in the corner of the screen.

“Mm, mm. What did people do in the days before ranch dressing.” She chewed her chicken tender chipmunk fast.

“We prefer a little more fire with our meat here in Tennessee.” He swept the tip of his chicken in hot sauce. “And a little more winning with our football team.”

“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes and plopped the last of her chicken into her mouth.

Her easy-going nature had him choreographing a touchdown dance in the end zone. With the progress he had made in the last few days, he could envision himself moving without a curved hunk of metal.

Staccato music blared from the television as a special alert banner flashed across the screen. He hoped it didn’t shorten the sportscaster’s time.

“This just in from Wisconsin,” the newswoman reported.

Emma’s attention bounced to the screen.

Underneath the woman’s picture read, “charred remains identified as white-collar criminal Ron Runyard.”

Was that the same Ron that Emma worked for? Had to be. How many criminals named Ron were there in Wisconsin?

Emma hurried toward the screen hunching to read the wording. Wade’s dinner sat like a cracked engine in his gut. So much for a relaxing evening.

“Neighbors said a woman stayed at the remote Northwoods cabin with Runyard.” The newswoman’s composed demeanor contrasted with his houseguest who jabbed a finger at the television and flailed her hands like a game of charades. Emma’s mouth fell open as if she consumed the reporter’s words. He expected a high-pitched scream from her lips. Not silence. Her silence had him searching for a living room bomb shelter for when her voice awakened. His only shelter was a leather cushion and a too-short coffee table. Neither would protect him from Emma’s potential blast.

“Identification of the body was delayed due to its charred state. Witnesses say the fire began on Sunday night. Investigators haven’t said if this will hamper the retrieval of stolen funds. Anyone with more information is asked to call…”

“That’s him,” Emma squealed. “That’s my former boss.” She hugged her waist with one arm as the other hand pushed her bangs up to her scalp. Her eyes widened in horror, and he became the recipient of her contorted stare. “I wonder if Annette killed Ron. She was so…so normal. Was I working next to a murderer? And an arsonist?”

“Now, onto the big game,” the newswoman said. The image on the screen changed to the sports desk. So much for football news. His new employee was having a meltdown. How did one calm a frantic woman? This was one of the few times in his life that he wished he had grown up with a sister.

Emma began pacing back and forth in front of the screen. “You don’t think they’ll assume I had anything to do with this?”

Lord, You better help me here because this sounds like a locked and loaded question. He knew enough not to answer questions about women’s fashions and waistlines, but potential murder? He needed to think like a businessman. Rational. Factual. Unaffected by a stranger’s dead body.

“Do you look like the other woman?” He shoved a fry in his mouth hoping he didn’t have to keep talking about Emma’s former boss, and even though it pained him, he turned off the television.

A wind gust escaped from Emma’s mouth. She traipsed back to the couch and imploded on the cushion. “Annette has like five inches on me, and she’s older. Like forty. But I don’t remember her and Ron ever traveling together. Sometimes their trips did overlap. Both of them ran away at the end. When they left me with an empty office.”

And holding the tattered bag.

She covered her face with her hands. “Why is this happening to me? The story was supposed to die down. Why would Annette or anyone kill Ron? I didn’t like him after he stole people’s money, but I didn’t want him to be murdered. Now how will anyone find the money trail?”

Her eyes glistened while red streaks marred her cheeks from where her hands had face-planted. “Why is God allowing this to happen? I try to do what God wants me to do. I follow Jesus and pray. I even prayed about accepting the job with Ron.”

Theology on a full stomach? How could he answer her when no one could possibly know the mind of God? Or the future. He needed to say something comforting. His brain scraped the bottom of the barrel making him lightheaded.

“What do they say about no honor among thieves?” He nodded like he had spoken helpful wisdom, but it was the first thing that had popped into his brain. “Look on the bright side. God gave you an alibi for Sunday night. We were having pizza in Nashville. We weren’t even in the same state.” How lame was that comfort? Where was his sermon, Scripture, and old Sunday school smarts?

She wadded a napkin in her hand and dried a tear snaking down her face.

Oh no, he didn’t do well with emotional women. He hardly cried when he was in the hospital. Way to tank a perfectly good evening, Ron. Or should he say, Annette.

“And,” he forced a smile to encourage his wet-cheeked office lady, “you can start using your phone again. I bet the killer has fled the country.”

She pulled her phone from her backpack and started to cry. A no-holds-barred sobbing cry. One of those cries that has to work itself out. He’d learned about those from his mom when Cole went AWOL and when his mom tried to encourage him after his body became broken and bloodied.

Why did this have to happen when he was beginning to feel like a new man, like his old self. Life was getting back to semi-normal. Emma had been the spark he needed to put his life in order. She made him feel in control again. Now, her life was falling apart.

Lord, I need some wisdom here .

Taking a swig of his sports drink, he leaned against the couch cushion and waited for Emma to compose herself. She’d speak soon enough. Emma never remained speechless for long. He, however, could go the rest of the night without talking about Ron, the swindler. His fraud had caused Emma undue pain. Wade’s teeth clenched while he envisioned punching Ron in the face.

He liked Emma. He was starting to like her a little too much. Right now, his position as her boss kept him seated at the opposite end of the couch, arms loosely folded, attempting to uphold professional boundaries.

A small part of his brain cheered for him to wrap Emma in a comforting hug. His mom was a hugger. Hugging one’s mom was different than bear-hugging an employee who wept on the boss’s couch after dark.

Their fast-food meal had turned into a lingering, emotional dinner. A few weeks ago, he would have raced from the house to avoid a crying woman. At the moment, he didn’t find Emma’s tears all that frightening. He could relate. He’d shed enough tears in the quiet places of his life. So many that he was willing to forego football highlights to help a new friend.

~*~

She had to pull it together. Losing it in front of her boss was not acceptable. A meltdown almost dawned after her first day at Donoven and Sons, but she had managed to learn a brand-new computer system and find a hospital in a foreign city. She swiped wetness from her cheeks and cleared her throat. Ron’s murder would put him on the front pages of Milwaukee’s news. Mayor Van Wenkle’s blood pressure would skyrocket. She prayed the mayor and his niece stayed away from the mall and her parents. Another investigator sitting outside of Sam’s house wouldn’t be good either. Sam had job interviews and a life to live. The media didn’t need to stake out her friend’s home. Emma plucked a waffle fry from the cardboard container and didn’t even raise a fuss about the overabundance of salt burning her tongue.

Wade leaned forward on the couch, so much so that she could envision him rolling into a three-point stance. He clutched the remote. She gave him credit for turning off the television and not changing the station to an all-sports network.

“I’m sorry.” He rotated, mouth gaping as if he had uttered a curse word. “I’m not making fun of your situation. Honest. It’s just—”

“You’re fine.” A sputter rumbled from her lips. “I’ll spot you a roll of quarters because I don’t think this murder story is going to vanish before midnight.” She made one last tear sweep and forced a stiff-upper-lip smile. “I should be relieved. Ron can’t scam any more people. According to one of the detectives who interrogated me, this wasn’t Ron’s first rodeo. Or whatever Ron’s name is. I was hoping the authorities could at least retrieve some of the stolen money.” She’d like the inheritance she had invested to be returned.

Wade rested his left arm along the top of the couch. He hadn’t had any spasms in his hand at work. Her gaze traveled from Wade’s hand to his chest and for a brief moment, her professionalism fled the room. What would it be like to be snuggled into Wade’s large frame and surrounded by his strength and his subtle clean-scented cologne? Don’t go there. She banished her wayward boss thoughts. She brushed bangs behind her ear and prayed her cheeks didn’t match the red striping on the takeout bag.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Wade swigged his sports drink, “how’d you start working for Ron? Seems like you read people pretty well.”

She always thought she knew who was fake and who was the real deal, but now she wasn’t so sure. Wade’s praise bolstered her battered self-esteem.

“I was thinking about that the other night.” She fingered the bump of her tortoise necklace underneath her work shirt. Too bad she didn’t wear more jewelry to fidget with. “I remember meeting him at a chamber of commerce gathering. My parents have run their candle shop in the mall for years. They’re long-time business owners in the community. We know our fair share of council members and civic leaders.” If only an upstanding business had offered her a job, she wouldn’t be in this mess.

“That’s a great place to look legit.” Wade consumed nearly a whole tender in one bite.

“Or to hire someone with a recognizable name.” Not that she was a super star, but she had interacted with the chamber when her dad was recovering from his heart attack. Had she blipped onto Ron’s radar then? Her muscles tensed as she sat higher on the cushion. “The last thing I want to do is hurt my parents or their business.”

“Tell me about it.” Wade cracked a smile that had her wanting to snuggle into his strong arms. “I think we’re on the same page there.”

Where was the grumpy, inconsiderate guy she had met on her first night in town? She might have tried a little harder to get to know him if he had been half this welcoming. Now his understanding attitude acted like a magnet. As his employee, she resisted the pull. She grabbed her soda and let the fizz eliminate the drainage in her throat and the fantasies in her head.

“Problem is, I liked the idea of being part of a retirement community where people could have fun and live out their last years in a nice place. I even put time into that human resource software so we could keep track of birthdays, anniversaries, and hobbies.”

“The peeps software.” His lips pressed thin. Was he fighting a laugh?

“Names can always be changed. Just ask Ron.” She poked a fry in Wade’s direction. “Oops. Guess we can’t.” She swallowed her salty potato mash while Wade shook his head. “I shouldn’t be joking. My parents store might be swamped with reporters. Even though I’m mad at Ron, I never wished him dead. In jail, yes. But not murdered by his senior office lady.”

Wade raised his plastic sports drink bottle like a toast. “Why do you think I keep saying sorry to my office lady?”

Now that was funny. Where had this humorous side of Wade been hiding?

“Don’t worry. I won’t invite you to a remote cabin after swindling millions of dollars.” She would not let her mind wander to Wade in jeans and a tight lumberjack shirt.

“What a sad ending for someone.” Wade tidied up the dinner wrappings.

“Yeah, it is.” She finished off her last cold fry and flattened the cardboard box. “People lost a lot of money in his scam. Including me.” Her confession didn’t deter Wade’s clean-up. Maybe he assumed she meant her paycheck and not an inheritance. “I keep asking God why this happened. My life was going so well, and then it turned upside down. I know God’s not going to light up the sky with a warning sign, but I had peace about working for Ron and Annette. Couldn’t the Spirit have made me feel ill at ease. Sometimes, I get frustrated at God for allowing this upheaval.” She was also frustrated with herself for being blind to the workings of criminals.

“I hear you.” Wade nudged the cane hanging from the armrest. “I shared a few words with God after my accident. Some of those exchanges were intense and heated.”

Should she have mentioned second-guessing God? Wade had suffered physically from his accident. What were a few sleepless nights, dwindling bank account, and upset stomach? She hadn’t experienced pain and surgeries or the loss of mobility. She chastised herself for oversharing and shoved her garbage in the fast-food bag.

She readied an apology without using the word sorry.

“I shouldn’t have complained about my situation. You’ve been through much worse.” She pulled her legs beneath her and settled into the warmth of the couch. “When I met your mom at Christmas, she was a nervous wreck leaving you for a few hours. Sam was worried about you. Cole was worried. I didn’t know you, but even I was uneasy about your parents being in Whispering Creek.”

Wade rubbed his jawline. His head bobbed like he was agreeing with her.

“That’s the thing.” He stilled his nod. “I wouldn’t want to go through a crash again, but the accident brought my brother back into my life and back into our electrical business. My family is hanging out again. Like we did when I was growing up. I’m not sure I’d be talking with Cole if I didn’t end up in the hospital and unable to work. I was forced to reach out to my brother for help.”

His head tilted toward the ceiling. “Not that I want another life changing accident like that, Lord.”

She prayed toward the ceiling as well. “Likewise, Jesus. I’m not finished with my first one.”

Thumping his cane against the rug, Wade glanced at her, not as a down-on-her-luck-stranger, but as a friend and confidant. A cool stream awakened every nerve in her belly.

“You noticed the bitterness I kept locked away toward Cole. I was glad you…encouraged me to talk with him the other night.”

“I like Cole. If he hadn’t met Sam, I wouldn’t be sitting on your couch telling you about my problems.” She flashed a carefree smile. The shocking news about Ron’s death didn’t seem as haunting after she confided in Wade. He knew about being a business owner. Not all business owners were created equal. Some were crooks using their connections to target another victim. Wade made her realize that Ron had targeted her because of her good reputation and business relationships. A pebble of shame tumbled from her shoulders.

Wade set his cane aside and scrunched the paper sack, rolling the top tight. He rested the bag on his thigh.

“There aren’t any secrets at Donoven and Sons that I know about. My life is pretty simple. How your former boss kept his multiple lives straight, I have no idea. I’m glad you’re here filling in for Fran and are away from that mess. And I don’t intend to tell you any lies.”

Wade’s honesty was better than a pay raise. He’d seen her unravel, but he knew how to put the threads back together. He’d lived through a personal trauma and worked to get his life back. She was trying to figure out how she could get her life on track again. Too bad she wasn’t staying here long term because Wade understood what she was going through, and for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel like crying.

~*~

Later, she pulled the work van into Mike and Linda’s driveway. Her phone pinged with a message. She reached to see who had heard the scandalous news about Ron and was the first to reach out.

Sam won.

WHAT A SHOCK ABOUT RON! I’M SO SORRY.

Emma laughed at the message. Sam owed her a quarter.