Finding Home Read Free Page B

conversation with his sister. That boy’s mother had called him rude earlier, at the café, and he supposed he had been. But he’d always been a straightforward, call-’em-like-I-see-’em kind of guy. Especially when he was aggravated.
    “Are you listening to me, Scott?”
    His grandmother’s question pulled him back to the present. “Sorry. My mind wandered for a minute.”
    “I noticed. We’ve gone far enough anyway. I’m getting tired.”
    He didn’t protest as she turned back toward her room. They’d covered more ground than usual. “If you walked several times a day, you’d build up your stamina and endurance.”
    “So you keep telling me. However, I’m more interested in where your mind wandered. It’s not like you to get distracted.”
    “I know. It’s kind of weird.” He told her about finding the boy on the construction site and his encounter with mother and son in the restaurant earlier in the evening, glossing over the in-your-face tactics he’d used.
    “You’ve never belabored an incident like that before. Safety trumps everything—including good manners—according to you. I wonder why this little run-in bothered you.”
    She posed it as a rhetorical question, and he didn’t bother trying to answer.
    But as he got his grandmother settled for the night, kissed her forehead and walked outside, the question lingered.
    And suddenly, as the image of angry sky-blue eyes flashed across his mind, he had his answer.
    It wasn’t the anger that had bothered him, however. It was the deep-seated hurt lurking just below the surface. The boy’s mother had looked like a woman who’d endured her share of challenges and heartaches. A woman who didn’t need any more stress piled on her slender shoulders.
    Yet he’d dumped another load of it on her.
    The overdeveloped guilt complex Gram had mentioned earlier reared its head as he walked toward his car. Yes, the kid had been out of line. Yes, his parents had been negligent. He’d had every right to confront the mother. His zero tolerance for danger on the job site was completely justified.
    However...he could have been more diplomatic. Used a bit more finesse.
    He opened the door, slid behind the wheel and inserted the key in the ignition. He needed food, not regrets. Why lament a situation he couldn’t change? All he could do was try to be nicer and make amends should their paths cross again.
    And for some reason he found himself hoping they did.
    Even if it required eating a little crow.

Chapter Two
    “D o you have a minute?”
    At the query from her boss, Cindy took a surreptitious peek at her watch before she looked up from her piled-high desk. 4:58 p.m. So much for the resolution she’d made over the weekend to leave on time. It had lasted all of one work day.
    “Sure. Have a seat. Let me move that stuff out of your way.”
    She started to rise to clear the chair on the other side of her desk, but Elaine waved her aside. “This baby may be slowing me down—” she patted her six-months-pregnant bump “—but my arms work fine.” After depositing a box of old photos on the floor, she lowered herself into the seat. “I have good news and bad news. I’ll lead off with the bad news. Sarah handed in her resignation this morning.”
    Cindy blinked. “Wow. Two resignations in one month?”
    “It’s a first—and not a happy one for us. Sarah’s husband got a job offer back East. He’s already gone, and she wants to follow ASAP. We’ve got her for two more weeks. I’m glad he finally connected somewhere after being unemployed for eighteen months, but it’s a bummer for us. The hours are long enough here as it is.”
    “Tell me about it.” Cindy surveyed the boxes and files that covered her desk and lined the walls in her small office.
    “That brings me to the good news. I have candidates lined up for both empty positions. The woman I interviewed this morning will be an excellent fit for Brett’s job. We’re going to make an offer