The Single Dad's Redemption. Roxanne Rustand

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ the weather was the least of his problems.

      “Were you towed to Red’s garage—south side of town?”

      “Yep.”

      “He does good work, but he usually has quite a backlog. When will he get it done?”

      “A couple weeks...maybe three.”

      “Ouch. Sounds about right for Red’s, but that can’t be very convenient.” She drummed her fingers on the glass surface of the table. “So I suppose you’ll be renting a car to continue on?”

      If only he could. This trip to Detroit meant everything to him. He had to find his ex-wife, Marsha, and son before she made good on her threat and disappeared again.

      But he’d planned on smooth sailing, not a massive mechanic’s bill coupled with extra weeks of motel and food expenses.

      After buying a fourteen-year-old Dodge Ram diesel in Montana, the cash in his wallet had already run low and running up debts with no employment in sight would be risky. Renting a vehicle to reach Detroit and then returning for his truck later wasn’t even a dim possibility.

      “No. I...guess I’ll have to wait for the repairs.” He dredged up a wry smile, knowing the customers who patronized a fancy store like this one could probably replace a vehicle like his without a second thought.

      Not that they’d ever own such an old beater in the first place.

      He rose, reached for the thin wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. “What do I owe you?”

      “Nothing. Everyone who walks in is welcome to the coffee.” She studied him, her gaze boring into his until he felt as if she could see clear into his deepest thoughts. “I don’t mean to pry...but will you just be doing the usual tourist things around here while you wait, or might you be looking for some work?”

      Who would even hire him, given his past?

      “I...” Heat crawled up the back of his neck as he faltered then swallowed his pride. “I could use something temporarily, since I have to stay in town awhile. But I don’t expect I’d find anything like that around here.”

      Biting her lower lip, she hesitated. “Maybe. Our busiest days of the year are next weekend, and I’m short of help. If you’re interested, I might have a temporary job for you here. Even a week or two could help us both.”

      Startled, he glanced around at the antiques, the china, the delicate bits and pieces displayed in every nook and cranny. He managed a short laugh. “You’re kidding, right?”

      “I’m afraid you won’t find much of anything else in a town this small. Our population is less than four thousand and there’s no manufacturing here. Without the agriculture throughout the county and our tourism, the town would die.”

      “What about construction?”

      “There aren’t any big companies based here—I think the closest are maybe thirty miles away or so.”

      “That’s it?”

      “We’ve got a few small, independent contractors in town—father-and-son teams who only do remodeling, though every time I try to schedule a reno project they’re all booked for months ahead.” She sighed. “I don’t know if they’re looking for extra help, but I sure wish they would so they could work faster.”

      He nodded, the weight of his situation growing heavier by the minute.

      “Jobs around here are mostly at the resorts, restaurants and shops,” she continued. “But we’re on the verge of tourist season, and the high-school kids have probably nabbed every seasonal job they can find.”

      He felt his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. He’d once earned six figures a year on the rodeo circuit, but he’d liquidated all of his assets for legal fees while fighting to keep his freedom and he’d still ended up in prison.

      Now it sounded as though he’d be lucky to find even a minimum-wage job slinging hamburgers or sweeping floors. “So there’s not much hope, then.”

      “You never know.” She went behind the counter and pulled a newspaper from a shelf underneath. “You’re welcome to take this. The classifieds are on the back pages.”

      She rummaged through a file drawer along the wall behind the counter, withdrew a sheet of paper and handed it to him with the newspaper. “Here’s an application, just in case you decide to apply here.”

      Words failed him as he glanced at the fancy doodads in the store. Just looking at it all made him feel big and awkward and claustrophobic, and made him want to step outside to take a deep breath. “I don’t think this would be a good fit, ma’am. But I appreciate the offer.”

      She shrugged. “Keep me in mind, just in case. The job wouldn’t be that hard. I stock gifts, antiques and work by local artisans, with some gourmet foods and such thrown in. Running the register is easy.”

      He felt his jaw drop at her willingness to take a chance on someone she’d just met, and a warm ember of something long forgotten flickered to life in his chest. He hadn’t remembered that people in the outside world could offer trust so easily. Then again, she didn’t know where he’d been for the past five years.

      “You could be making a big mistake, offering a job to a complete stranger.”

      “I won’t be, if you fill out the application,” she said with a tentative smile. “Believe me, I always follow up on references and do background checks. Anyway, I’ve been saying some prayers, so maybe this was meant to happen. You could use some short-term work and, at the very least, that’s what I need. How much better could it be?”

      If she only knew.

      He hesitated then shook his head. “I appreciate your offer. But I think I’d better look around town a little more, if it’s all the same to you.”

      * * *

      Long after Connor disappeared down the sidewalk, Keeley stood at the front bay window of the store and stared after him. What had just happened? There were a number of big-name horse breeders and trainers in the county, but an honest-to-goodness Texas cowboy had never, ever, walked into her store—boots and all.

      Much less one who looked like that.

      Tall and muscular with broad shoulders and raven-black hair, he’d made her heart stumble the moment he’d walked into her store. His dark five o’clock shadow had drawn her attention to his strong jaw and the flash of white, even teeth when he’d briefly smiled.

      He looked like someone who could take on any challenge with the laconic, easy grace of a man straight out of the Old West. But it was his long, dark lashes and those silver-blue eyes that had made her heartbeat stumble. The emotions lurking in those stunning eyes spoke of pain, and loss, and suffering, and had called to her at the deepest level.

      She was still standing at the window, frozen in place, when her friend Beth Stone, owner of the bookstore down the street, waved at her from the sidewalk and came inside.

      “You look a bit shell-shocked. Is everything all right?” Propping her umbrella in the entryway, Beth tucked a stray strand СКАЧАТЬ