The Hero's Sin. Darlene Gardner

Чтение книги онлайн.

      T HE NEXT MORNING Michael trudged up the narrow flight of stairs that led from Aunt Felicia’s basement to the main part of the house, carrying a cardboard box of things he didn’t want.

      Old clothes that would no longer fit. High-school report cards and test papers that didn’t do him proud. A tattered baseball glove he’d found lying discarded in a field when he was a teenager.

      He’d already decided to donate the stuff to a thrift store. He didn’t need any reminders of Indigo Springs when he was gone.

      The steps ended at a cheerfully decorated country kitchen that smelled of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. A plate of them sat on the counter near where Aunt Felicia stood between two rows of white cabinets. She hadn’t yet changed from the blue dress she’d worn to church.

      “Did you find everything?” She wrung her hands, betraying her uneasiness. They’d barely exchanged two sentences when he’d arrived before he asked about his unwanted belongings and she directed him to the basement.

      “I’ve got it all unless there’s more than one box.”

      “No.” More hand-twisting. “Just the one.”

      “Then I’ll get out of your way.”

      “I made cookies after church,” she blurted, halting his progress. “Would you like one?”

      It was well known his great-aunt liked to bake, but he was surprised she’d come straight home and made the cookies. Maybe she baked something every Sunday. The ultimate homemaker, she seemed to enjoy doing the things that made a house a home.

      “Sure,” he said, because it seemed rude to refuse. He carried the box to the table and set it down before taking a cookie. He bit into it, the gooey, chocolate taste bringing back one of the rare pleasures of his childhood. “It’s good.”

      She half smiled, the compliment seeming to please her. “How was the wedding?”

      “Fine.” He finished off the rest of the cookie. “Johnny’s a lucky guy.”

      “I heard…” She stopped, started again. “I heard you didn’t stay long.”

      So the locals were already gossiping about him. He’d been up most of the night, second-guessing himself for not accepting Sara’s invitation. But he’d done the right thing. He couldn’t risk having somebody spot him leaving her house at an odd hour.

      “I was at the wedding long enough.” He noticed the handle of a cabinet door was loose and thought about offering to fix it, then changed his mind, knowing that would only prolong a visit that was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. “I should get going.”

      Aunt Felicia finally moved, only to cut off his exit from the kitchen. “Could you, um, look at something for me first?”

      The loose handle?

      “All right,” he said.

      She picked up a manila envelope from her kitchen table and wordlessly handed it to him. The envelope was stamped Registered Mail and contained the return address of a local Indigo Springs bank. The first paper he pulled out was a Notice of Intent to Foreclose. A letter stated that Aunt Felicia was several months behind on her loan payments.

      He flipped through the papers, trying to make sense of them. The house should be paid off. Aunt Felicia had inherited it when her parents died, and that had probably been twenty-five years ago.

      His head jerked up. “It says here you took out a home equity loan.”

      “I didn’t,” she said miserably. “Murray must have. I trusted he knew best about money matters. When he’d tell me to sign something, I would.”

      Michael didn’t need to ask why Murray needed money. СКАЧАТЬ