Chapter Five
Madison
It happened when she was four miles from home, on her way to work one week after the job advertisement incident at Helen’s.
The car developed a horrible knocking sound, smoke started pouring from the exhaust, the check engine light went on, the temperature gauge went up, then a loud pop and she was leaving trails of oil on the road while the car coasted.
She ran out of speed going up the slight hill toward town and had to manhandle the vehicle to the side of the road. She put it in park and turned the key off. She was wary of the slope and decided to use the emergency brake to keep it from rolling back down.
The way things were going this morning, that would happen to her, and then she’d cause some kind of accident which she would be responsible for paying for.
She sat there in shock for a moment while the adrenaline rushed through her bloodstream.
Cars passed, slowing down and rubber-necking, but none stopped to help. They would eventually, but for now, everyone was probably just trying to make it to work on time.
Something that she should be doing. She couldn’t afford to lose the hours.
“Damn it!” she whispered, hitting the steering wheel.
The old car had been fine all these years. Sure, it had a lot of miles on it, but it ran fine. Used to. Rob had taken it in for regular oil changes and other things. She wasn’t even due for an oil change yet.
She fished her phone out of her purse and searched for the nearest garage, then called the number.
“Hello?” some grumpy guy answered.
“Uh, yeah. My car broke down. I’m right outside of town on the north highway. Could you send a towtruck?”
He gave a condescending huff. “Well, let’s hold on and troubleshoot here a minute. You may not even need a truck.”
“Pretty sure I’m going to need a truck,” she said, trying to keep the sarcasm from her tone. There was no need to irritate the man with the tow truck.
“What happened to the car?”
“The engine made a noise and the car stopped. It won’t start up now.”
He sounded exasperated. “What kind of noise?”
“Well, it sounded like a sewing machine and then there was a loud pop and oil started leaking out everywhere.”
“And smoking,” he said.
“Yeah.”
He sighed. “I’ll send the truck out.”
∞∞∞
“You blew a gasket. We can fix it, but you’ll probably be better off just buying a new car. Probably be cheaper.”
She sat on the grungy vinyl seat in the mechanic’s office as he slid some papers over to her. “This is the quote for the repair.”
“That’s more than the car’s worth!” she said incredulously.
“Yep.”
“How’s your deductible?”
“Too high.”
She sat back, crushing her purse and the papers to her chest. She wished she was at home with the baby and the kids. She wished Rob was back and everything was…well, if not normal, then at least almost normal.
“I can take it off your hands for you,” the mechanic offered.
She had no idea what a fair deal was for a twenty-year-old car with a blown head gasket.
The man was of indeterminate age beneath the grease and dirt. He didn’t look like a crook, but that didn’t mean he was honest either.
“How much?” she asked, dreading hearing his offer.
“Three hundred bucks and I’ll waive the towing fee, and that’s being generous.”
She could take the three hundred dollars and try to find another car. She thought she might be able to get a small loan, but she didn’t what sort of interest rate to expect. Her credit was basically nonexistent. Rob had made all the major purchases and she’d never had so much as a credit card.
The mortgage was in her name now, so that might give her rating a small boost, but she didn’t know for sure.
She could keep the car and try to sell it for more, but again, she wouldn’t know where to start. A headache was piercing her temple and she stood, needing fresh air.
“Excuse me for a minute. I have to call my boss.”
He smirked. “Tell your husband about my offer.”
She grew angry then, something she tried so hard to suppress during her pregnancy and after Em was born.
“My real boss,” she said. “I’m late for work.” She went to the door and thought about slamming it. She turned around one last time. “And my husband died eight months ago.”
That wiped the smirk off his face, but she didn’t stick around for the apology. She was tired of hearing those too.
Outside, life went on even though it seemed like hers was getting worse and worse. She called Christian and explained the situation. He gave her the day off…paid. It humbled her. He had so much going on and yet he was helping her once again.
She declined his offer of a ride, hung up, dug a paper out of her purse, determined to do what needed to be done, and doubly determined not to feel like a bad person because of it. People did worse stuff every day.
“McClellan’s Hope. This is Kyle.”
The voice on the end was brusque and completely mouthwateringly masculine. Her reaction shocked her and the first words slipped right past her. All she heard was his name.
Kyle.
“Um, yes. I’m calling about the job posting?” she said, though she didn’t know why she made it sound like a question.
There was a moment of silence before he made a sound in his throat and then spoke. “You’re a cook—sorry, chef?” he demanded.
She took a deep breath. “Yes. I wondered when a good time might be for an interview…if the position is still open.”
Her heart was racing and the heat was making her hair stick to her neck. She had the prickling sensation of her milk letting down, which was pretty uncomfortable considering the nervous sweat that was forming suddenly.
She felt like a mess and all she could think about was the cool, controlled voice on the other end of the phone.
What did someone wear to an interview about a chef’s position?
She had the absurd vision of herself sitting in front of a desk wearing a white kitchen smock and chef’s hat.
“Can you come this afternoon around five? We’ll consider it a trial run. Prepare the evening meal and if everything goes well, then you’ve got the job.”
“Uh…well…”
“Unless you already have something else planned?” he said.
She made a split-second decision. “No. I’ll be there at four-thirty to prep and start the meal. Thank you, Mr….Kyle.”
He chuckled and it was like warm honey trickling into her ears. In reality, that would be uncomfortable and irritating, but in theory, it was wonderful and she found herself smiling.
“Just Kyle is fine, Missus?”
She cleared her throat and caught the mechanic staring at her through the window. “Just Madison.”
“Madison,” he said and she couldn’t help the frisson of pleasure in her stomach at the way he growled her name. “Do you know where the place is?”
“No, actually. I’m afraid that I’ve never even heard of it. Is it a bed and breakfast type place?”
“It’s a rehabilitation center for wounded veterans. We’ve just opened and unfortunately found ourselves without a chef for the evening meals on very short notice.”
Oh, God. She was going to be cooking for wounded soldiers. What if she wasn’t good enough? What if she gave them food poisoning and killed them?
Suddenly, her lie felt gigantic and the foulness of it started seeping into her soul. She was taking advantage of wounded servicemembers. She was soooo going to Hell for this.
She couldn’t do this.
“It’s easy to find. Head out on Highway 74 and watch for the signs. You can’t miss it.”
There was an opening where she could have said something. She wanted to. Every second that passed felt like a chasm of judgment and the longer it went on the worse it became until it was too late.
“Okay. See you then. Call if you have trouble finding the place,” he said, sounding a little uncertain at her silence, as if she might be a lunatic.
“Sure thing. See you then,” she managed to say before hanging up the phone with shaky fingers.
She took a deep breath, pushed her arms against her chest to stop the letdown reflex, and marched back into the office. The mechanic was sipping icy Coke from a water-beaded can and it made her thirsty.
“Four hundred dollars, waive the towing fee, and a ride home,” she said, sticking her chin out and feigning confidence. “And a Coke.”
The worst he could say was no. Actually, he could laugh in her face and take back his offer. That would be worse probably.
“You got a deal, missy. I’ll get my keys.”
∞∞∞
“I did it,” she said.
Helen passed Emmie to her as soon as she stepped through the door and she pulled the nursing cover out of the diaper bag. Em started chowing down immediately, pinching and squeezing her breast as though it were a particularly scrumptious cheeseburger.
“What?” Helen asked, taking a permanent marker from James before he could get the cap off.
“I called about that chef job,” she said, shame creeping up again. “I shouldn’t have done it. I knew it was wrong and I should have said something then,” she said. “In fact, I think I’ll call and cancel right now.”
She pulled her phone from her purse and unlocked it.
Helen snatched it from her hand.
“Helen!”
“Wait! Tell me what happened first.” The old woman took a seat after checking to make sure Ellie was still reading and that James and Jackson hadn’t gotten into the matches, the bleach, the scissors, the knives, or the fuse box.
“It’s some kind of place for wounded veterans to recover,” Madison sighed. “They need a chef for the evening meals. I can’t take the job. I’d be doing them a huge disservice.”
“Why? Veterans need to eat too…even wounded ones,” she said, straightening the sleeves of her sweater. “Especially the wounded ones. Make them up a big ol’ pot of soup. It’s good for the soul.”
Madison just stared at her. “Do you really think I can do this and not screw it up?”
“James!”Jackson yelled angrily from the dining table in the next room. “You screwed up my damn picture!”
Madison pinched the bridge of her nose. “I swear they’re parrots!” she hissed to Helen.
Helen nodded knowingly then pinched her lips. “What are you going to wear?”
“Oh man, I don’t even know. I’m still carrying this extra weight and nothing nice fits me right yet,” she said.
In the late days of her pregnancy and the early days of breastfeeding, she’d read hopefully about the magical weight loss properties of breastfeeding. Unfortunately, it seemed to have the opposite effect on her. She hadn’t lost any more weight than the initial ten pounds since Emmie was born. She was still twenty pounds heavier than she was supposed to be.
And that was using the upper limit of her healthy range.
She was trying to be forgiving of herself. She’d been through a lot after all, but it was hard, especially when she used to be a little proud of her figure.
She wasn’t delusional. She knew she was only average-looking, but having a nice firm body, even after three kids, had kind of made up for it.
Now, she was just average-looking and…lumpy. She wasn’t looking for a man, not at all, especially not a relationship. After Rob…well, she just couldn’t see herself wanting to be with anyone else.
Especially not someone with a phone voice that turned her legs to jelly.
But it was still nice and confidence-boosting to know that she was attractive in some way to the opposite sex and that she wasn’t going into the dreaded downhill spiral just yet.
She’d been a mother so long that sometimes she forgot she was a woman too. It got buried beneath the diaper changes, the meals, the homeschooling, the working, and the worrying.
Kyle’s voice just kind of brought it all back for her…which was stupid, because everyone knew the jokes about the radio host with the large voice and vice versa.
He was probably the exact opposite of how she imagined him to be.
“What time are you supposed to be there?”
“Four-thirty to tour the kitchen and start the meal. He said that if everything went well tonight, they’d hire me.”
“Well, what are we waiting for?! Let’s go find you something to wear, and I’ll dig out my mother’s bread pudding recipe for good measure. It’s easy, fast, and everybody loves it.”
Madison let herself be dragged along by the spry old woman. She just hoped she wouldn’t regret it.
“You had better try to pump some too, just in case you’re gone longer than expected. You know how much Emmie-bug loves her milk. Look at those thighs, aren’t they precious?!” Helen said, pausing every now and then to make faces at the baby and play peekaboo.
“She’s a tub of butter,” Jackson hollered. “That’s what James said earlier.”
“A cute one, Jack. I said a cute one, dummy!” James interrupted.
∞∞∞
At four-thirty on the dot, she parked Helen’s old Lincoln Town Car in the newly-paved circular drive of the luxury cabin that was only a few miles from her own house. The place was huge and no expense had been spared.
She felt more like a fraud than ever.
She pulled her purse into her lap and got out, smoothing the black leggings and the long blouse she’d paired with it. It was professional enough to work in, but not formal. It was a little small still, and the buttons across her chest would strain if she ever decided to breathe again.
She was just going to have to wait to breathe until she got home.
Her brown hair was braided neatly down her back, something she usually didn’t do and it felt weird. It seemed appropriate to contain it if she was going to be cooking meals for other people.
It left her face unusually exposed to scrutiny.
Which was why she’d added a touch of makeup, though she’d drawn the line at Helen’s suggestion of a bold red lipstick.
The door opened as she was lifting her hand to knock, and suddenly her vision was filled with a desperately handsome man who gave her a blazingly white, panty-melting grin.
He scanned her up and down and she felt more naked and exposed than ever, though she detected no real sleaziness in his gaze. It felt a little contrived to her, but she couldn’t help but be disappointed that Kyle was obviously into eyeballing strange women.
With that voice, she should have known.
“Kyle? I’m Madison,” she said, sticking out her hand.
The man raised an eyebrow and took it, holding it far longer than was appropriate for a potential boss. She jerked it out of his grasp and considered making a run for it when another voice broke the uncomfortable mood.
“Evans, go help Murdock,” the newcomer ordered harshly, glaring at him.
She watched the man called Evans—not Kyle, thank God!—as he sauntered away.
“Sorry about him. We tried to housebreak him, but he’s a hopeless case,” the familiar, but somehow more intense voice rumbled from the doorway.
The man came out of the shadowy hall beyond the large room and the only thing she could think was that if any man would match the perfect voice on the phone, then it would be this one.
He was a dream of hard planes and angles, of a shadowed strong jaw, and gentle eyes that saw everything. His scent wafted toward her as he prowled closer—surely he was doing that on purpose!—and offered her his hand.
She felt no unease with this man, but her self-consciousness ratcheted up one hundred percent.
“I’m Kyle. That was Wyatt Evans. Avoid him like the plague.”
“Heard that!” Wyatt called from the bowels of the house, and it reminded her so much of Jackson that she grinned.
Kyle looked relieved that she wasn’t running screaming from the house and she finally took his hand.
Huge. Mistake.
His hand was calloused and warm. His grip was strong, but he squeezed her just right, cradling her hand instead of molesting it. It wasn’t sweaty or awkward and he didn’t hold her too long.
The very worst part was the electric shock that seemed to travel straight from their hands to her heart, and then lower. She found herself wanting to take his hand again, and that made her laugh nervously and clench her fingers into fists.
He smiled at her politely for a moment, as if working out some problem in his head. “Have we met before?” he asked, frowning a bit.
Of course, the line was cliched. If it had come from anyone else, she would have rolled her eyes and trotted on back home, but he was different. He was truly confused.
“I don’t think so,” she said.
I would have remembered you, she didn’t say.
“Well, come on in and I’ll show you where you’ll be working.”
She followed him in and he shut the door. The sound was decisive and sudden, and it sent a conviction straight to her heart.
She might not be who these people thought she was, but she was going to give it her all. She wasn’t going to let them down. One day, she hoped she could come clean, but until then, she would work her butt off— She caught sight of herself in a mirror and wrinkled her nose.
Hopefully literally.