Somebody's Hero

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The snowmelt had turned the dirt that permeated the fibers into mud, as well as given life to a smell words couldn’t do justice to. It was enough to make her shudder all over.

They heaved the rug into the bed of the truck, then picked up the others. As soon as the last rug left her hands, Jayne stripped off the gloves. She was tempted to toss them into the truck bed, too, but why waste them? They could go into the laundry with all the filthy towels and cloths she’d used in cleaning.

Tyler held his gloves in one hand. “I’ll be back in a few hours—”

“Could we go with you?”

The question surprised her as much as him. There was still plenty for her to do here. Laundry, last night’s dinner dishes, a little research for the next scene she would be writing.

“I’d like to see where the dump is,” she went on when he didn’t speak. “My furniture’s arriving next week, and I’ll be getting rid of some of Edna’s stuff. That way I’ll know where to take it.”

He still didn’t say anything.

“I can pay for the stuff for the steps, too. And I’d like to get some paint samples. I really want to paint the house, both inside and out. I’m guessing they sell paint there, too. I mean, what’s the use of lumber without paint to put on it? Well, that’s a dumb question. We’re living in a pile of lumber with very little paint. But anyway—”

He raised one hand, and she gratefully stopped talking. “Okay.” That was all he said, then he walked around the truck and climbed behind the wheel.

Jayne stood there a moment, surprised by his easy concession, before turning and hurrying into the house. Lucy was still in the bathroom, the water running in the sink, so she washed her hands at the kitchen sink, then went into her bedroom. “Luce! Hurry up in there! We’re going into town with Tyler!”

There was nothing she could do with her hair, but she did a quick makeup job—foundation, eye shadow, eyeliner and lipstick. She met Lucy in the hall outside the bathroom, her hair damp where she’d combed it down. Lucy puckered up for a kiss, and Jayne bent, but instead her daughter blew minty-fresh breath full-force in her face. “Better?”

“Much. Let’s go.”

Lucy raced across the yard while Jayne locked up. By the time she’d reached the truck, Lucy was already buckled into the center section of the bench seat and swinging her feet, chattering about her very first ever pickup ride.

Compulsively neat, responsible and endlessly patient. Jayne was learning more about her neighbor every day.

And appreciating it.

Chapter 4

Every soul Tyler knew in the county was in Sweetwater that day. Saturday was a time for running errands. What had possessed him to let Jayne and Lucy come along? He could blame Jayne and her nervous rambling. It had seemed easier to say okay than to listen to her.

And blaming her was better than admitting that some part of him might have wanted them to come. For five years he’d worked hard at not wanting, and in just a few days…

No. Better to blame her.

She stayed quiet on her side of the seat. Though the sun wasn’t overly bright, she’d pulled a pair of dark glasses from her purse as soon as they’d cleared the trees that shaded their road and had kept them on. Occasionally he caught her rubbing her temple as if trying to ease an ache there. Maybe he should have insisted that she go to the doctor…. But she was an adult. Surely she knew better than he if she needed medical care.

Though he was too damn familiar with people who refused to seek care when they needed it. How many times had he watched his mother cope with injuries because a hospital visit raised questions she couldn’t answer? How many times had he nursed his own aches in silence?

Too many.

If not for Lucy, the trip would have been uncomfortably quiet, but she kept up a running commentary. She was the most curious child he’d known. It never occurred to her that he might not be interested in what she had to say. Must be nice to have that kind of confidence in yourself.

The dump was located two and a half miles south of town. He paid the couple bucks’ fee, unloaded the rugs with the help of the attendant, then turned the truck back toward town.

When they reached the edge of town, Lucy spoke. “Hey, Tyler?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m hungry.”

He grimaced. It was barely ten o’clock, and the last place he wanted to go with them was his sister’s diner. Rebecca would take it as a sign that her efforts to fix him up were working and she would never give him any peace.

Jayne roused from her silence. “Sweetie, we’ll be home before too long and we can eat then, okay?”

“But I’m hungry now, Mama. Doesn’t a sticky bun sound good?”

Jayne paled as if just the idea might empty her stomach.

“Have you eaten anything at all?” Tyler asked. When she shook her head, he said, “Maybe you should. Oatmeal or crackers or something.”

She considered it a moment, then nodded, and he wondered why the hell he’d opened his mouth. Because old habits were hard to break. He’d been taking care of too many people for too many years. But those people—except for Edna—were family. Jayne wasn’t.

He didn’t even want to think Jayne and family in the same sentence.

Frowning, he turned right on Main and found a parking space near the diner. Lucy skipped ahead, and Jayne matched his pace, which slowed the nearer they got.

They both reached for the door handle at the same time, their hands about an inch apart on the worn metal. Hers was so much smaller than his, delicate, well suited to typing, soothing a little girl…or arousing a man.

She made a choking sound that was probably meant to be a laugh and withdrew her hand. “Sorry,” she murmured and stepped back so he could open the door.

Mouthwatering aromas drifted from the diner. Just inside, Jayne stopped and took a tentative breath. Testing to see if the smells would aggravate what already ailed her? Then she smiled faintly. “Smells good. Where do you want to sit?”

“Doesn’t matter.” He could already feel the speculative gazes on them. A quick glance around the room showed that practically every soul he knew was there, and they were all curious.

Lucy charged toward the nearest empty booth. As they followed, Rebecca, her arms filled with dirty dishes, detoured to meet them. “Hey, Lucy, Jayne.” Bumping her shoulder against him, she winked. “Bubba.”

He scowled at her back as she continued to the kitchen.

Lucy climbed onto one bench and slid across to make room for Jayne. Tyler claimed the other bench, his feet bumping hers as he settled in. He muttered, “Excuse me,” then her foot nudged his and she repeated the words.

How long had it been since casual contact with a woman had seemed so significant? Since the woman had been Angela. Look how badly that had turned out.

He slid his feet as far back as he could.

Balancing three glasses of juice with a coffeepot, Rebecca returned. After filling their mugs, she asked, “Is it okay if I steal Lucy for a minute? I’d like to introduce her to Jordan Ryan.”

Great. Next Lucy would want to eat with Jordan, which would leave him and Jayne together. Alone. In front of everyone.

“Sure,” Jayne said with a smile. Before she could get up, Lucy scrambled over her, jumped to the floor, slid her hand into Rebecca’s and headed for the counter, where Jordan sat with her sister, her brother and the Adams twins.

Tyler rested his hands on the tabletop, absently scraping one fingernail across a scar on the other hand. He was uncomfortably aware of his grandparents and two of his brothers seated at a far table and of Daniel and Sarah Ryan sharing a nearer table with the Adamses. He knew what they must be thinking—the same thing Rebecca did. That he needed to give up his isolation. That it was time for him to settle down and start a family. That he needed a woman.

That Jayne Miller could be a very easy woman to need.

His jaw tightened. He doubted that last thought was in anybody’s mind but his, and he couldn’t afford it. He couldn’t let himself want what he couldn’t have.

Across the table she shifted. When he raised his gaze, she smiled a little. She was pretty when she smiled. But, hell, she was pretty when she didn’t smile. “Looks like Lucy’s found a new friend. Do you know Jordan?”

“She’s my boss’s daughter.” Scrape, scrape went the nail over the scar. The mark was old, white, barely raised. An old injury at work or a souvenir from Del? He couldn’t remember.

“Which one is your boss?”

With a breath, he locked his fingers together, then tilted his head to the right. “The big guy over there is Daniel. Sarah, his wife, is on his left. The others are Zachary and Beth Adams. They’re lawyers.” They’d saved his mother’s life and made a huge difference in his. He owed them—and the Ryans—a lot.