A Mother's Heart (Sweet Hearts of Sweet Creek Book 6) Page 7

  "We should find out," Emma said, clasping her hands in front of her as if she were praying. "Maybe everything will be okay."

  Nik doubted that. Though he hadn’t seen actual flames, he’d seen smoke. Even if the fireman put the fire out, the building would have to be repaired and inspected before anyone could move back.

  "Can you take us there so we can see for sure?” Emma asked, turning to Nik.

  Nik wanted to say no, but he guessed Emma wouldn’t be satisfied until she knew for sure.

  "Okay," Nik said, though he could guess what the outcome would be.

  As they drove back to the apartment, Claire tried to make a few more calls, but it sounded to Nik like she wasn't having any luck finding a place to stay. No places to rent and because of a big volleyball tournament in town that weekend, no motel or hotel to stay at.

  Emma's suggestion teased his mind. He could let them stay in the house. He was living in his trailer now and had figured on doing so until the new building was up. The house and its dark memories held no appeal to him.

  But he wasn't sure he wanted Claire and her daughter staying so close, slowing down his plans.

  The firemen were still at the apartments when they arrived, and Claire stumbled out of the truck before he could help her. Nik let Emma out but made Mooch stay. He wasn't sure where he would bring them next. He caught up to Claire as she was talking to one of the firemen.

  “Sorry, lady. But no. We can’t let anyone in until we’ve done a structural assessment,” the fireman said, his face streaked with sweat and soot.

  “I understand,” Claire said, but as the fireman left to take care of another job, Nik caught the glint of tears in her eyes. She dropped her head for a moment.

  She turned to him and he gave a careful smile, knowing he was doing the right thing, just not so sure it was the smart thing.

  “You may as well stay in the house,” he said, the finality of the words making him cringe.

  “Really? Yay.” Emma tossed herself at him and he caught her as she hugged his waist. “You’re the best, Mr. Nik.”

  He looked past her, rather uncomfortable, glancing at Claire.

  Her smile fell into his heart. And the little girl clinging to him filled a space in his empty soul.

  With a quick pat on Emma’s head, he pulled himself away from her.

  “Good thing the house is furnished,” he said. “Let’s see about getting you two settled.”

  “We’ll need toothbrushes and undies,” Emma said, bouncing from one foot to the other, pleased with how things had gone.

  “We can get those ourselves,” Claire said, reprimanding her daughter. “Besides, I need to stop at the cafe and talk to Tess. See about work today.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay to work?” Nik asked.

  Claire shrugged. “We’ll see.”

  “And I’ll take you wherever you need to go,” he added.

  Claire looked prepared to object again, but she seemed to give in.

  They all went back to the truck, Nik supporting Claire again, surprised by the solicitous feeling she brought about.

  He quashed it. He was just helping. Once they found a place, they would be out of the house and he could carry on with his plans.

  He had to make sure he kept himself removed from them so when it was time to leave, he could move away with a clear head and no looking back.

  Chapter 4

  "May I sleep in my room?" Emma asked as they stepped into the house.

  "I suppose you can," Claire said. "We'll have to look for some bedding."

  But Emma was already thundering up the wide, wooden stairs, heading to “her room”, which was Claire’s old bedroom.

  "Do you want this in here, or upstairs?"

  Nik appeared beside her holding a box of clothes they had salvaged from the apartment once the firemen said it was okay to go inside.

  They were warned repeatedly that they could only take personal items for the time being. No furniture, no large items. Only clothes and toiletries. Claire had grabbed her laptop and some bedding.

  It had been exhausting going through an apartment that reeked of smoke, reliving that panicky moment when she wondered if she would get out okay, worried about Emma. On top of all that, she had to make quick decisions, under pressure with Nik watching and Emma making outrageous choices. It had been humiliating having Nik help her. And rather personal. Looking at her stuff through his eyes made her realize how shabby and worn her furniture was. How few items of value she owned.

  Yet she desperately hoped they could return to the apartment and take everything else. Thankfully the fire hadn’t reached her apartment, though it smelled of smoke. The thought of having to deal with the insurance company gave her the heebie jeebies.

  Coffee Creek was taken care of for now, so that was good. When they stopped at the café, Tess had given her a huge hug and told her not to worry. She would call up Cory if she needed help.

  Claire glanced at the box Nik held.

  "Just put that in the room at the end of the hallway," she said, trying not to sound as tired as she felt. Her head throbbed as much as her ankle did as she followed Nik down the hall to her parents’ old bedroom.

  When Emma had blithely suggested they move into the house, Claire had brushed it off as the imaginings of an optimistic child. Nik was renting the place, after all.

  But phone call after phone call had yielded no results. The vacancy rate for apartments in town was at a record low.

  Tess lived in a tiny apartment that, Claire knew, was packed with wedding stuff. And Cory lived with her mother.

  No room anywhere, except this house, which would probably be hers come Monday.

  Despite all the plans she had made, the dreams she had spun around returning to this house; it still felt odd to step inside the bedroom that used to be first her parents', and then Mrs. Blatchford’s.

  Mrs. Blatchford had left the heavy ornate bed behind as well as the dresser with its old-fashioned oval mirror and tiny drawers for jewelry and knickknacks. Another, equally dark and heavy armoire was pushed into one corner of the room.

  Dust covered every surface and Claire felt a pang of dismay at the lack of care and, at the same time, the work that lay ahead of her when she took over this house.

  If she took over the house.

  Think positive thoughts, she reminded herself. This will all come together.

  "So, this is the master bedroom." Nik's voice held a note of bitterness.

  “It looks like you haven’t slept here,” Claire said, as she glanced around.

  "Not a chance," he returned. “I crashed on the couch and as soon as I got my trailer, I was out of here."

  This puzzled her, but she wasn't about to get into his sleeping arrangements.

  He set the box on the bed. "So, who of your family slept here?"

  "My parents," she said, looking around the spacious room, other memories intruding. She hadn't been in this room since they’d moved out.

  "You're smiling. What are you remembering?" he asked, the hard note still edging his voice.

  Claire shifted her weight, her mind sifting backward to a happier time for her family. "Just odds and ends. Silly things, really," she said. She doubted he would be interested.

  "Tell me."

  "My mom always made my dad a cup of coffee in the morning. She would bring it to him and they would sit in bed and drink it, planning out the day. On our birthdays, Tess and I could sit on the bed with our parents and unwrap our presents and drink coffee with them.” She released a light laugh. “Just a little tradition we had."

  "That sounds nice."

  "What about you? What memories do you have?"

  His expression grew hard, his eyes narrow, and he shrugged off her question. "I was never allowed in this room."

  "Oh, trust me, neither were we. Just on our birthdays," she said.

  "So, it was only you and your sister in this house?"

  "Yeah. My mom didn't want more ch
ildren. She always joked that we were too expensive. That my sister and I were noisy enough. But we had a lot of fun here." She smiled again.

  She shifted her weight and a throb of pain revisited, reminding her of the present.

  "I should get Emma in bed,” she said. “She'll be one tired little girl.”

  Nik thankfully, didn't offer to help. Being around him had been more difficult than she’d liked. He was appealing and helpful and she was tired and lonely. Too easily she resurrected the strength of his arm supporting her, holding her up as he helped her walk to the hospital.

  "Okay. Well, I hope you manage." Then he pulled out his cell-phone. "Why don't you give me your number and I'll plug it in and you can do the same? Just in case."

  She hesitated a moment, feeling that swapping cell-phone numbers would be one more intrusion into her life.

  She was being foolish. He was right there on the yard. If something happened to her, he would be the best person to call.

  She tapped his number into her phone then slipped it in her back pocket, glancing up at him.

  "Thanks again. For all your help. And for letting us stay in the house."

  Nik paused and for a moment Claire thought he would say something. But he just walked out of the room.

  His footsteps echoed in the empty house and as the door closed, Claire felt like she could breathe again. He created a confused rush of emotions she wasn’t equipped to deal with.

  She sighed, fighting down a wave of guilt over staying in the house he was renting, feeling like she and Emma were messing up his plans.

  Well, they were her plans first. She and Mrs. Blatchford had an agreement long before Nik showed up on the scene and soon, this house would be hers.

  As long as Tom's check went through.

  The distressing thought wiggled to the forefront of her thoughts but she pushed it aside. Tom was her cousin. He wouldn't short-shrift her.

  "I thought you told me she wouldn't get the money together," Nik said, switching his phone from one ear to the other as he toed off his shoes.

  He had called Devon as soon as he could to find out what was going on.

  "I didn't think she would, either," Devon said, sounding defensive. "But it's not a done deal, don't forget. That check has to clear the bank first."

  Nik shoved his hand through his hair. He sat in the chair at one end of the trailer, wondering how he had ended up in this place. He hated it when plans changed or didn't go as expected.

  A woman he was unwillingly attracted to was staying in the house that, unfortunately, didn't burn down. Her daughter, who created a welter of emotions as well, slept upstairs. And he still wasn't sure if the place would be his or not.

  "I guarantee you your deal will go through," Devon said. "We only need a few more days and we can get to work. I'm not worried about the sale. I know the guy Claire sold the car too. Tom's a loser in every sense of the word. I'm positive he doesn't have the money to cover that check and only wrote it to keep Claire off his back."

  Nik looked around his trailer, stifling a sigh of irritation. His gut told him he should walk away and be done with this hassle. Things were getting complicated and if there was one thing Nik had learned to avoid, it was convoluted business deals. They never went well. Especially when his emotions were involved — as they were now.

  "Trust me, Nik, this will all come together,” Devon continued. “Besides, you knew I had another offer on the house when you put yours in. You knew you'd be waiting. Nothing's changed."

  Despite his frustration Nik had to concede that point.

  "Didn't you tell me you were in town to do some visiting?" Devon added. "It's not like you're wasting your time there."

  Nik leaned back in his chair, his mind ticking back to the visit with his mother and Cory. He thought seeing his mother would answer questions, fill an emptiness that had grown deeper with every passing year. Instead, he felt like things had been left hanging and he wasn’t sure of his next step.

  That was why he had left town for a couple of days. Not only to pick up his trailer so he could live in it while he was working here, but to give him some time to think and re-orient himself.

  Yet he kept circling back to the fact that Joyce was his mother… and, even better, he had a sister he hadn't known about. The family he had always yearned for.

  "It'll be fine," Devon assured him again. "That house will be yours come Monday. Guaranteed.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Nik said goodbye, then set the phone on the desk beside his chair. He leaned back, stretching, thinking, planning. He needed to get things ready to present to the town council. Needed to do some background work on town by-laws and current zoning regulations. Needed to find people to tear the house down and take the material away.

  A light flickered on from a room upstairs in the house, catching his attention. Nik suspected that's where Emma was sleeping.

  As he watched a figure slowly walked past the window. Claire, he realized. She disappeared, then came back to the window, looking out. Directly at him.

  He wanted to pull back, but it was too late. She knew he was watching her. Then, to his surprise, she gave him a little wave and pulled the blinds closed.

  The light flicked out and he guessed Claire was on her way down the stairs. He hoped she wouldn't hurt herself. He shrugged his concern aside. He had other things to worry about. Cory wanted him to come for another visit tomorrow and he had agreed. Visiting Joyce would still be difficult, but he hoped it would be easier than the first time.

  When it was time to go he wanted to leave with a clear conscience and a decent connection to the only family he had left.

  Chapter 5

  It had been a long night.

  Claire picked up her phone, glanced at the screen and groaned when all she saw was black. Her phone was dead

  The sun was just coming up, so it had to be 6:00 at the earliest. Her ankle throbbed, and she'd tossed and turned for the past hour. Between waves of pain she had alternately worried and prayed, thinking about her apartment and her stuff and how she would get through the next few weeks with what she had.

  She hauled herself out of bed, re-wrapped the tensor, slipped on a pair of loose yoga pants and t-shirt, fumbled for her crutches and hobbled to the bathroom just across the hall.

  This time of year the sun was just flirting with the horizon, sending out a faint glow over the mountains, promising day would come soon.

  But inside, the house was still dark. She heard the rumble of the furnace turning on and despite the pain burning in her ankle; she smiled. As a little girl she used to lay tucked up in her bed upstairs, blankets wrapped around her, waiting for that very sound. It was often the signal that her mother was up and had turned up the thermostat. Claire would come downstairs and sit on one of the registers in the kitchen, heat billowing her nightgown, drinking a huge cup of milk-tea, watching her mother pack lunches for the day and put breakfast on the table. Her father would come down the hall, smiling. He’d give her mom a hug and they would share a kiss. They were so happy then.

  Claire doused the memories and turned on the light in the bathroom. She winced as she rummaged through the cosmetic bag she had hastily filled up yesterday, looking for pain killers. Nothing.

  When they went to her apartment yesterday, Claire was keenly aware of the fireman who had accompanied her, hovering in the doorway and the urgency he projected. So she had grabbed the bare minimum. And, in her defense, her ankle didn't hurt much at that time, thanks to the hospital’s potent painkillers. But those had worn off, and the agony had returned.

  She leaned back against the door, fighting off the painful throbbing as blood pooled in her ankle. She needed to get to the drugstore. But she had promised Emma she could sleep in. Emma was a grump first thing in the morning so riding out the pain was probably easier than listening to her daughter’s grumbling.

  Coffee was her only option.

  But as she scrambled down the hall, another
reality snuffed out that tendril of hope.

  She hadn’t thought to grab groceries out of the kitchen cupboards in the apartment.

  And she had just bought a container of coffee the other day. Her mouth watered thinking about it. So close and yet so far.

  Claire paused in the kitchen a moment, looking around the open space and allowed herself a moment of gratitude. Soon this would be her and her daughter's place. Soon she could give Emma the proper home she'd always wanted.

  Please, Lord, she prayed, let it all work out.

  She heard the jingle of dog-tags. Mooch had heard her rummaging about and was coming down the stairs. He walked up beside her, whining. He needed to go out.

  Claire patted him absently on the head then stumped to the back of the house and opened one of the double French doors.

  Mooch barreled past her and, to her dismay, headed directly for the flower beds.

  "Mooch, stop. Come back here." He stopped, looked back at her, took a few steps toward the flower beds just as she called him again. He didn't come to her, but stood, staring at the corner of the yard whining. Seriously, they had to find whatever it was he had buried in there before he destroyed it completely.

  "Do you think he'll listen?"

  The deep voice beside her made her jump which sent pain shooting through her ankle. She faltered and might have fallen but, once again, Nik held her up. Her first reaction was to push him away, but that would cause more problems, so she stayed where she was.

  His hand was large, and warm. And as she glanced up at him, she saw his cheeks were flushed and his hair damp. He looked like he had been running.

  “Sorry about that,” she said, disappointed at how out of breath she sounded. She wavered a moment as she caught her balance and then, thankfully, he released his hold on her.

  “That dog sure likes that flower bed,” Nik said dropping his hands on his hips as he breathed in and out, sounding winded.

  “I’m sure he’s got something buried there that he wants to dig up.” She turned back to the dog. “Mooch. Come here.” Thankfully, this time he trotted back, head down, disappointment flowing off him in waves. He dropped beside her with a whine but stayed put.