The Edge of Heaven Read Free Page B

was a working man's truck. His clothes were nothing fancy. Jeans and a shirt were all he needed. But he supposed she could have taken those two things together with what he'd said and come to the conclusion that he needed a job so badly, he'd come here with nothing but a passing acquaintance with Sam McRae and the most casual mention of a job. Not that he didn't know what it felt like to be desperate for work. But he wasn't at the moment.
    "I just wrapped up a big job in a suburb of Atlanta, and I guess you could say I've been thinking about heading this way for a while. It seemed like as good a time as any. And don't worry. I can afford a hotel room. I won't end up sleeping in the truck or anything like that."
    "Sorry." She'd finished with the table and hung the towel on a hook by the sink, facing him reluctantly. "I didn't mean to pry."
    "I know."
    He leaned back against the counter, crossed his arms, and let himself take another long, slow look at her. She was sweet, he realized. Kind. Generous. And likely very, very soft. Where had all the women like her gone? Probably they were all gathered in little towns like this one and the one he'd left behind as a boy. And somebody had to look out for them.
    "Tell me you weren't going to invite me to stay in this house with you? Surely Sam taught you better than that. I'm a complete stranger to you."
    "You said you know Sam."
    "Anybody could walk up to your door and claim to know Sam. His name's on the sign on the mailbox."
    "I know, but..."
    "Emma, a woman's got to be careful these days."
    "I know," she said, a little flush coming into her cheeks. "I wasn't going to invite you to stay in the house."
    "Good."
    "There's an old carriage house out back." She went to the back window and pulled the curtains aside. "See? Sam converted it into an office a long time ago. There's a cot and a bathroom, too. It's not much, but people have bunked there before, and I just thought... Just in case."
    "Thank you," he said sincerely, grinning like he hadn't in years. "But I'll find a place on my own."
    "Okay. The Baxter Inn on Main is nice and not too expensive. The diner next door has some of the best food in town, if you like home cooking. Nothing fancy, but filling."
    "I like that just fine."
    He stood up straight to leave, thinking it had been an altogether pleasant time here with her. It had been a while since he'd enjoyed something as simple as a meal shared with a nice woman. He thanked her once more, and all too soon found himself at the front door oddly reluctant to leave.
    "What are you doing here all by yourself at Christmas?" he asked as he shrugged into his coat. "Why didn't you take off with the rest of them?"
    "I was just finishing up at college..." she began.
    Which made her... What? Twenty-two? Maybe twenty-three?
    He felt ancient beside her.
    "I'd planned to spend this week with a friend." She paused, for a moment looking uneasy, then pasted on a smile and continued. "But something came up at the last minute. I just left them a message on their voice mail and got on the train to come home early, while Rachel and the kids were already heading north. Sam sent them ahead in case the weather got bad today, and then he waited here for me. But I decided to stay."
    "All by yourself?"
    "Yes. A few days of peace and quiet sounds good to me." She took a breath. "Things have been hectic lately."
    He nodded, thinking she seemed uneasy about something, thinking it was really none of his business, even if she was.
    "Well, I guess I should go," he said, reaching for the door.
    "Wait. You forgot something."
    "What?" He turned back to her.
    "Your name. I can't tell Sam who you are if I don't know your name."
    "Sorry," he said, but it was no accident that he hadn't told her. "Emma, maybe it would be better if I just wait and talk to him when he gets back."
    "But you came all this way," she said. "It must be important."
    "It is, but..." He took a chance and admitted, "Look, it's more personal than