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The deep, baritone of his voice flowed over her, smooth like a river of honey. Slowly his dark blue eyes lit with a gleam like periwinkles basking in the sunlight. Then his mouth lifted in a full grin, causing dimples to appear in both cheeks.
“Is it still for rent?”
She nodded, for some reason her voice still unable to work properly.
“How much?”
She mentally shook herself out of her daze. This was business. “Three hundred a month plus utilities.”
He dug into the front pocket of his black jeans and withdrew a wad of cash. After peeling off three one hundred dollar bills, crisp and new, he handed them to her.
She peered at the money, thinking of all the bills she needed to pay. Then common sense prevailed. “I don’t want to take your money until you’ve seen the apartment.”
“I’m not choosy about where I stay.”
“The apartment is open. It’s above the detached garage at the side of the house. Why don’t you go and take a look at it? I wouldn’t feel right if you didn’t do that. I’ll be along in a moment.”
After repocketing his money, he tipped his head toward her. “I’ll do that, Mrs. Bolton.”
She watched him descend the steps with duffel bag in hand, then head for the garage. When he disappeared from view, she went into the kitchen and grabbed the lease that Beth had insisted she needed a tenant to sign and left the house by the back door.
Her daughter would be home from school in half an hour, and she hoped to have this all settled by then. After she crossed the driveway, she climbed the stairs to the apartment over the garage at the side of the house. The door stood ajar.
Inside Chance slowly turned in a full circle, surveying the place, no expression on his face. When he saw her, he stopped, one corner of his mouth hitched in a half grin, dimpling one cheek. She was beginning to wonder if that was his trademark.
“This is nice.”
His compliment caused a catch in her throat. She’d worked hard on the apartment with some help from her friends and was proud of what she’d accomplished on a limited budget. “Thanks.”
He faced her, his large presence filling the small two-room apartment—much like her porch—his shoulders set in a taut line, his arms straight at his sides. His gaze lit upon the paper she held in her hand. “Do you want me to sign a lease?”
“Yes. This is for six months.”
“I don’t know how long I’ll be here. I’ve got an interview with Nick Blackburn about a job, but nothing’s definite.”
Tanya glanced at the standard lease and folded it several times. “Then we won’t use the lease. Where did you come from?”
“Louisville.”
“Why did you come to Sweetwater? Because of the possibility of a job with Nick?”
“No, actually Samuel has always talked so highly of Sweetwater that I decided to come pay him and the town a visit. He knew I was looking for a job and mentioned the one with Blackburn Industries.” Again Chance withdrew the wad of money from his pocket and unrolled it. Covering the short distance between them, he thrust the rent toward her. “Three hundred. Do you require a deposit?”
Deposit? Tanya bit her lower lip. She hadn’t thought about that. Having never been a landlord before, she realized how new this all was to her. “I guess a hundred. That should cover minor damages if there are any.”
“There won’t be.”
“Not from what Samuel says. He basically told me I couldn’t go wrong with you being my tenant.”
Chance glanced away for a few seconds as if embarrassed by what Samuel had said. Clearing his throat, he returned his attention to her. “Samuel does have a way about him.” He gave her the money for the deposit, then immediately stepped back as though he was uncomfortable getting too near her. He looked toward the kitchen area in one corner with a two-burner stove, a sink and a small refrigerator. “Can you give me directions to the nearest grocery store?”
Tanya thought of the bare kitchen and blurted out, “Why don’t you have dinner with me and my daughter tonight? That’s the least I can do for someone new to Sweetwater and a friend of Samuel’s.”
Chance plunged his fingers through his black hair, then massaged the back of his neck. “I don’t want you to go to any trouble, Mrs. Bolton.”
“My name is Tanya and it isn’t any trouble. I have to warn you, though, it won’t be anything fancy.”
“I’m not used to fancy.”
The tight edge to his words made her blink in surprise. “Well, then you’ll fit right in. Sweetwater’s pretty laid-back. We only have one expensive restaurant that I’ve never seen the inside of.”
“What time is dinner?”
Tanya checked her watch and realized that Crystal would be home from school soon. “Give me a couple of hours. Say six.” She backed toward the door, a sudden, awkward silence electrifying the air. “See you then.”
Out on the landing she breathed deeply. Chance Taylor wasn’t a chatty person. She would have to quiz Samuel about him. For some reason she didn’t think her new tenant would tell her much about himself. The click of the door closing behind her penetrated her thoughts. She couldn’t shake the feeling his life hadn’t been easy. The sight of the school bus coming down the street sent Tanya hurrying down the stairs.
Even though Crystal was fifteen now and a freshman in high school, when her job allowed her, Tanya liked to be there when her daughter came home from school, especially lately. Something was bothering Crystal and her daughter wouldn’t talk to her about it. Maybe today Crystal would say something that would reveal what was going on. She rounded the side of the garage when the bus stopped and the driver descended the steps to man the lift.
While Crystal powered her wheelchair up the driveway, the small school bus drove away. If the frown on her daughter’s face was any indication, today had not been a good one. Tanya sighed and met Crystal halfway.
“We have a tenant for the apartment,” Tanya said, forcing a light tone into her voice to cover the apprehension her child’s expression raised.
Her daughter didn’t say a word. She maneuvered the wheelchair around Tanya and kept going toward the ramp at the back of the house. Tanya followed, trying to decide how to approach Crystal about what was happening at school. This year when she had begun at Sweetwater High, she’d quickly started trying to get out of going, even to the point of making up things that were wrong with her. Tanya had talked with her teachers, but no one knew what was going on. She had seen her usually happy, even-tempered child become someone else, someone who was angry and resentful. Was it the typical teenager angst of going through puberty? Or was it something else? Had Crystal’s father’s death finally manifested itself in her troubled behavior? Tom had died almost five months ago, and their daughter had gone through the usual grief associated with death but had seemed all right as her summer vacation had come to an end. Now Tanya didn’t know. Maybe Crystal had suppressed her true feelings.
In the kitchen Tanya called out to Crystal before she wheeled herself through the doorway into the hall, “Our new tenant is joining us for dinner.”
Crystal continued to remain quiet as she disappeared from view. Perplexed, Tanya stared at the empty doorway, wondering if Zoey, a high school counselor, or Beth Morgan, Crystal’s English teacher, knew what was going on with her daughter at school. She made a mental note to call her friends later to see if anything had happened today to warrant this sullen demeanor.
Chance descended the stairs to his apartment over the garage and headed across the yard toward the back door. He noticed the ramp off the deck and remembered Tom talking about his teenage daughter who was in a wheelchair. Until he had seen the ramp, however, he hadn’t really thought about the implication of having a child who was physically disabled or the fact that he would be eating with a young girl who would only be a year or two older than the age his own daughter would have been if she had lived.
He stopped his progress toward the deck, indecision stiffening his body. He’d seen plenty of teenagers since his daughter’s…death. Surely he could handle an hour in the same room with Tanya’s child. How difficult could it be?
Chance discovered a few minutes later just how hard it would be when Crystal opened the door to his knock, a smile on her thin face, a black Lab standing beside her. He sucked in a sharp breath and held it. Staring up at him with open interest was a young girl who had dark brown hair and hazel eyes, so very reminiscent of his daughter’s. She even had a sprinkle of freckles on her small upturned nose as Haley had.
He cleared away the huge knot in his throat and struggled against the urge to run as far away as he could. His legs refused to move forward into the house even though Tanya’s daughter opened the door wider for him.
“Come in before all the insects do,” Tanya said, approaching them.
He shook off the panic beginning to swell in his chest and shuffled into the kitchen. Turning to shut the back door, he took a few precious seconds to compose his reeling emotions at the sharp reminder of what he’d lost. When he pivoted back toward the pair, his feelings were tamped down beneath all the defensive layers he’d created over the past few years. Under closer inspection of Tom’s daughter, he saw no real similarities between Haley and her, other than their coloring.
If he was going to repay the debt, he had no choice but to learn to deal with the teenager—and the mother. I can do this, he told himself and forced a smile to his lips. “I’m Chance, the new tenant,” he said to Crystal, realizing he was probably stating the obvious.
The teenager’s smile grew. “I’m Crystal. Welcome to Sweetwater.”
“Thanks.” He inhaled the aroma of ground beef that peppered the air. “It smells wonderful. What are we having?”
“As I told you earlier, nothing fancy. Just tacos. I hope you like Mexican food. Crystal and I love it.” Tanya gestured toward the counter. “Everyone’s going to put their own together.”
“I like anything I don’t have to cook.” He took another few steps farther into the kitchen, committing himself to spending some time with his landlady and her daughter.
Tanya handed him a plate with big yellow and blue flowers painted on it. “You don’t cook then?”
“Not unless you call heating up a can of spaghetti cooking.”
Crystal giggled, patting her dog. “Even I can do that.”
“My daughter’s taking a Foods and Nutrition class this year. Hopefully she’ll learn more than heating up what’s in a can.”
Chance noticed the instant school was mentioned that Crystal’s cheerful expression vanished and the young girl dropped her head, her attention glued to her lap. Did she struggle with schoolwork? He made a note to find out. Maybe he could help her with her homework, then he would be one step closer to being able to leave Sweetwater, to appeasing his guilt.
“You go first.” Tanya swept her arm across her body, indicating he prepare his tacos.
Chance took two large empty shells and filled them with the meat sauce, cheese, lettuce and diced tomatoes. His mouth watered in anticipation of his first home-cooked meal in years. After he doused his tacos with chunky salsa, he made his way to the round oak table in the alcove with three large windows overlooking the deck and backyard.
He sat at one of the places already set with utensils, a blue linen napkin and a glass with ice in it. When he noticed a pitcher on the table, he poured himself some tea, then doctored it with several scoops of sugar.
Crystal positioned herself next to him and put her plate on her yellow place mat. “Mom said you’re from Louisville. I went there once, when I was nine, and took a riverboat up the Ohio River.”
As Tanya settled into the chair across from him, Chance said to Crystal, “I’ve never ridden on a riverboat. Did you like it?”
“Yeah! I’d like to take one all the way to New Orleans. I’ve never been to New Orleans. I haven’t seen very many places.” She glanced down at her wheelchair, then fixed her large hazel eyes on him as though that explained why she didn’t go places.
A tightness constricted his chest. He couldn’t imagine being confined to a wheelchair, every little bump in the terrain an obstacle, not free to move about as you wanted. He knew about that and had hated every second of his confinement. “You’ll have time,” he finally said, feeling a connection between him and Crystal that went beyond her father.
“That’s what Mom says.”
“I promised her a trip when she graduates from high school.” Tanya poured tea for herself and her daughter. “She’ll get to pick where, depending on my budget.”
“Mom’s got a saving account for the trip at the bank where she works.”
“That’s a good plan.” After he picked up his taco carefully so as not to make a mess, he took a big bite, relishing the spicy meat sauce. “Mmm. This is good.”
Tanya smiled. “Thanks.”
She and Crystal bowed their heads while Tanya said a prayer.
When she glanced up at Chance, he’d put his taco back on his plate, a look of unease in his expression. “I don’t have the time to cook like I want to, but I do enjoy getting into the kitchen when I can,” she said, hoping to make him feel comfortable.
“I’m glad you invited me.” Chance caught her gaze and held it for a long moment. He realized he meant what he had just said. The warmth emanating from both the mother and daughter spoke to a part of him that he thought had died in prison.
Finally Tanya dropped her regard and ran her finger around the rim of her glass. “What kind of job are you applying for with Nick?”
“As an assistant for his office in Sweetwater.”
“Nick said something to me about expanding his company’s presence in Sweetwater. I guess this must be the beginning. Since he and Jesse got married, I know he doesn’t like to travel to Chicago as much as he used to. What have you done before?”
Tension knifed through Chance. He should have expected questions about his past. That was the last thing he wanted to discuss. “I was a financial advisor.”
“Was? Not anymore?”
“I’m looking for something different. That’s why this assistant’s job interests me.” That and the fact Samuel paved the way for him with Nick Blackburn. But even with Samuel’s reference, the job wasn’t a sure thing. He would have to convince Mr. Blackburn he could do the work, definitely a step down from what he’d done in the past where he’d had his own assistant.
“What happens if you don’t get the job?”
“I’m still staying for a while. I’ll just look for another one,” he quickly said to ease the worry he heard in her voice.
He needed the conversation focused on someone else. Angling around toward Crystal, he asked, “Besides Foods and Nutrition, what else are you taking?”
The teenager downed a swallow of tea. “I’m taking the usual—U.S. history, English, algebra and biology. I’m also in the girls’ choir.”
“In high school I was in the show choir. I enjoyed it.” Chance felt Tanya’s puzzled gaze on him and shifted in his chair, feeling uncomfortable under her scrutiny as though she could see into his heart and soul. Their emptiness wasn’t something he wanted exposed to the world. He busied himself by taking another bite.
“I sing in the choir at church. We can always use another man to sing.”
He heard Tanya’s words of encouragement and gritted his teeth so hard that pain streaked down his neck. Church. Religion. God wasn’t for him. He’d believed once, and his whole life, his family, had been taken away from him. He stuffed the rest of the taco into his mouth and occupied himself with chewing—slowly. Averting his gaze, he stared out the window at the backyard and hoped the woman didn’t pursue the topic of conversation.
“I thought about auditioning for the show choir, but I didn’t. I can’t dance very well in this thing,” Crystal slapped the arm of her wheelchair, “and you have to be able to sing and dance to be in it. If I can’t do it right, I don’t want to do it at all.”
The teenager’s words cut through the tension gripping Chance. He looked back at her and managed to smile, hearing the need in the child’s voice that twisted his heart. “Besides singing, what else do you like to do?”
“I like to draw.”
“Why aren’t you taking art in school?”
“I can’t take everything. I’ll probably take it next year.” Crystal shrugged. “Besides, Mom’s teaching me. She’s very good.”
Chance swung his attention to Tanya who looked away when his gaze fell on her. “What do you like to draw?”
A hint of red tinged her cheeks. “People mostly.”
“Portraits?”
“Nothing formal like that.”
“I’d love to see your work sometime.”
Tanya started to say something when Crystal chimed in, “I’ll go get her sketchbook. It’s in the dining room.” She backed up her wheelchair, made a one-hundred-eighty-degree turn, and headed for the door with her service dog following.
“I get the impression you don’t show many people your drawings.”
She shook her head, swallowing hard. “I’m not very good. I draw for myself.”
When Crystal came back into the kitchen with the sketchbook in her lap, Chance wanted to make Tanya feel at ease so he said, “I don’t want to intrude on—”
“Mom, doesn’t think she’s good. I do. Here, see for yourself.” Crystal opened the book and showed Chance.
He wasn’t sure what to expect after Tanya’s reluctant reaction, but what he saw was an exquisite portrait of Crystal sketching something. The drawing captured the teenager’s love for art in the detailed expression on her face. The pen-and-ink picture was as good as any professional artist would have done. “I’m impressed, Tanya. This is beautiful.”
