скачать книгу бесплатно
“How are you?” Delanie’s voice was full of concern. “Where did you and Phoebe go? You should have called me.”
“Or me,” Lucy said.
“The mayor came to tell me personally and as it happened Sam Hart was there. Loretta had something to do with him opening his home to us.” He’d actually been very gracious about the whole thing and she wasn’t sure why that was so surprising.
“I’ve seen him in Bar None.”
“And the café.” There was a “hmm” in Lucy’s voice. “He doesn’t seem the sort to be pushed around. Not even by Madam Mayor.”
Delanie nodded her agreement. “I know what you mean. The man owns a successful financial company with a lot of employees. It’s highly unlikely she could intimidate him into something he didn’t want to do.”
“You’re both right. And obviously observant,” Faith said. “I didn’t mean to imply that the mayor shamed him into volunteering. Like I said, she came by my cart in the lobby of Sam’s building to tell me I couldn’t go home. She said she had a full house but could find floor space and air mattresses for Phoebe and me.”
“So he was shamed,” Lucy said.
“Maybe. I don’t know. He spontaneously offered because he has a big house. And Loretta said it would be a relief not to have to worry about us, what with all the problems she was handling.” Then Sam had made his case to talk her into staying with him.
“So you were there last night,” Delanie commented. “How was it?”
“He didn’t lie about it being big. And beautiful.” And the man had gone out of his way to make sure they were comfortable and had everything they needed. He’d even cooked dinner.
“What’s he like?” Lucy asked, as if reading her mind. “I mean, obviously he’s nice looking.”
“Nice?” Delanie shook her head. “You can do better than that, Luce.”
“You’re absolutely right.” The blonde looked appropriately chastised. “This whole fire crisis has thrown me off my game. Sam Hart is so hot he could melt a lesser woman than me into a pathetic puddle at his feet.”
Faith would admit, if only to herself, that she’d dipped a toe into that puddle. “And what’s your point?”
“We want details. What is it like living with him?” Delanie folded her arms over her chest. “Did you see him naked this morning?”
“Of course not.” But wouldn’t that have been something. “And I’d hardly call it living together—”
“Don’t split hairs. You both spent the night under the same roof. By any definition that is living together.”
“Temporarily. That’s quite a different dynamic.”
“Don’t rain on our parade,” Lucy begged. “We’re doing our best to live vicariously. And if there’s a little matchmaking behind it, where’s the harm? The least you can do is meet us halfway.”
“This is where I tell you guys to get a life.”
Delanie grinned. “I have all the life I want, thanks. And right now yours has gotten exciting. In an interesting way, not the part where your house is in danger. And, for the record, we’re trying to take your mind off that. So, when life gives you lemons...”
“What she’s trying to say,” Lucy interrupted, “is that details would be most appreciated.”
“I love you guys for trying to take my mind off things, but I still don’t know what you want me to say.” Faith looked from one woman to the other. “Is he handsome? Check. Does he have money? Judging by his house that gets a big check mark, too.”
“How’s Phoebe doing with it?” Lucy asked.
“Pretty well, all things considered. She’s distracted by the house and pool. He even let her use the TV remote.” She couldn’t help smiling at the memory of him explaining what each button meant and letting her daughter push them, even though that meant jumping through hoops to restore settings. “She’s Team Sam.”
“He sounds like a good guy,” Lucy summed up and Delanie nodded her agreement.
Faith gave them a warning look. “He and I are just friends. I’ve gotten to know him because he buys a lot of flowers for women.”
“Sounds romantic to me.” Lucy stirred the beans on the steam table.
“Trust me. It’s not. Just a gimmick. A smoke screen. An elaborate ruse in which he appears to participate but really doesn’t at all.”
“How do you know?”
“He told me. I asked him, as a flower professional, whether or not I should look forward to the revenue a wedding could generate.”
“You didn’t.” Delanie’s expression oozed admiration. “Look at you going all TMZ on him.”
“What did he say?” The other woman stopped stirring. Apparently that revelation had the persnickety chef’s rapt attention.
“It was a definite no on walking down the aisle.”
“Oh, pooh. That’s not what I wanted to hear. So I shouldn’t count on a wedding reception catering contract from him.”
“Sad but true, ladies. Commitment is not on his to-do list.”
Her friends looked disappointed, but Faith was fine with it. Better than fine, actually. This conversation had put things into perspective. The fact that neither she nor Sam was open to romance was tremendously freeing. She could be herself around him because there was no chance of any weird man/woman stuff.
* * *
Sam was trying to decide whether or not to worry.
At breakfast Faith had told him she was going to volunteer at the fire staging area after work, do what she could for the firefighters. Her lobby cart had been locked up several hours ago when he’d left work for the day.
Was it time to do something stupid and go look for her?
Before he could make up his mind, he heard the front door open and female voices in the entry. He’d given her a key and moments later Faith and Phoebe joined him in the kitchen.
“Hi, Sam.” Phoebe gave him a wave.
“Hey, Squirt.” He looked at Faith. “Long day?”
“Yeah.” She looked tired, dirty and worried.
Again, Sam had the most absurd urge to pull her into his arms and tell her that everything would be all right. “Any news on your house?”
“No. And the evacuation order is still in effect.” She shrugged. “The guys have been too busy saving houses to keep track of the ones lost.”
Were the black streaks on her cheeks and chin soot? He frowned. “How close were you to the fire?”
“A couple of miles, I think. Why?”
“Because you smell like smoke.”
“You should have been in the car.” Phoebe wrinkled her cute freckled nose. “Stinks in there now.”
Humor relaxed the tension on Faith’s features. “You do realize that I was doing a good thing? Serving food to firefighters who are working very hard to save our home. And your toys.”
“Uh-huh.” Phoebe looked unrepentant. “You still smell like smoke.”
“The wind is brutal.”
Sam thought about that. “If it was blowing smoke in your direction, doesn’t that mean the fire was headed toward where you were?”
“Are you asking whether it was safe?”
“Was it?”
“Of course.”
He hadn’t given in to stupid and gone to look for her, but now it was coming out of his mouth, this unreasonable concern for her safety. He was going to stop now. “Okay.”
“The problem is the wind keeps changing direction. It’s one of the reasons they’re having such a hard time getting a handle on containment.”
“I see.”
“Until the crisis is over, there’s a volunteer schedule,” Faith said.
“So you’ll be going back into the fire area?” He glanced at Phoebe, keeping his voice conversational so as not to alarm her. But for reasons he didn’t want to examine too closely, he needed reassurance. And yes, he was aware that the stupid was continuing in spite of his effort to suppress it.
“Everyone is pitching in.” She shrugged as if that explained everything.
“Can’t you just make a casserole? Or cookies?”
She glanced at her daughter now. Phoebe was staring up wide-eyed. “The firefighters have safety protocols in place. That’s one of the few things they can control. It’s the variables like wind and thick, dry underbrush that are giving them fits.”
“Mommy, you don’t get too close, do you?”
“No, absolutely not.” She thought for a moment. “Do you remember Des Parker?”
Phoebe’s forehead furrowed in thought. “Is he the rancher who took you to the Grizzly Bear Diner?”
“No. That was Logan Hunt.”
“He’s my cousin,” Sam volunteered. Estranged, but still family. Although that distinction didn’t ease the feeling of disapproval sliding through him.
“Really?” Faith’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know that.”
“Long story,” he said. “So who’s Des Parker?”
“The fire captain.”
“I remember,” Phoebe said. “He let me sit in the fire truck on the Fourth of July and bought us ice cream. And Valerie Harris babysat me and you went out to dinner with him.”
“Yes.”
“I like him,” her daughter said.
Funny, Sam thought, he didn’t. “So he’s not going to let anything happen to his girlfriend.”
“It’s not like that. And in case you’re wondering, there was no breakup bouquet. Come to think of it, that would be awkward. Making it for myself.” Faith laughed. “No, my point is that he’s cautious and wouldn’t let anything happen to anyone on his watch.”
Sam didn’t miss the look she gave him that said he was being weird, but he already knew.
Phoebe wrinkled her nose again, apparently satisfied that her mother was in good hands. “You still stink.”
“It’s not that bad.” She looked at Sam.
“I wasn’t going to say anything...” He rested his hands on the granite-topped island between them. “However, I strongly suggest you soak in a hot bath while Phoebe and I cook dinner.”
“You cook? I thought last night was a fluke.”
“No.” Sam took a little satisfaction from her obvious surprise. “I’m a bachelor.”
“And yet I, the plant lady, know that—” she glanced at her child, obviously trying to figure out how to give her comment a G-rated delivery “—from time to time you have visitors who can cook.”
“That is blatant gender profiling.” He smiled at her unease. “Some of the world’s best chefs are men. And I actually like to cook.”
“I can help, Mommy. Please let me do it.” The eight-year-old was quivering with excitement. “And Sam is right. You need a bath.”
“And the child becomes the parent.” Faith tenderly traced a finger down her daughter’s cheek. “Two against one. Fortunately for both of you I’m in the mood to get rid of this grime. I won’t be long.”
Sam watched until her slender shoulders and excellent backside disappeared from sight. She was a smart, beautiful woman raising a child on her own. As far as he could tell there was no father in the picture. Why? For that matter, it was clear from what Phoebe had said that she dated. His cousin had inherited the Hart good looks and his mother’s integrity. His father, Sam’s uncle, had the morals of an alley cat and Logan had distanced himself from the Harts a long time ago. He was a very successful rancher and from a woman’s perspective would be a good catch.
Des Parker was a question mark because Sam had never met him. What was Faith’s relationship with the two men? He really didn’t like that he was acutely curious, which was only a small step up from jealousy.
“Sam?” A small, firm voice interrupted his thoughts. “Are you listening?”
He looked at the little girl. “Yes.”
“I want to help. But Mommy won’t let me touch sharp stuff.”
“That leaves out knives, then.” He thought for a moment. “How about setting the table?”
“Okay.”
Since plates and glasses were too high for her, he ended up getting everything down then backed off and let her put it all on the round oak table in the nook.
When she finished, she came to stand by the counter where he was working. “Whatcha doing?”
“I’m making fried chicken the easy way. After I dip the pieces in this stuff, it goes on a cookie sheet and into the oven.”
