Shit. Crap. Damn . . . River shook her head. “No, thank you. I . . .”
The woman came around the car and took in River’s body and smiled. “Ah. How far along are you?”
“Six months,” River said softly and put a hand on her swollen belly.
“Six months is a wonderful time. You can feel the baby move around. Gives a purpose to your suffering,” the woman said with a gentle smile. “Sit, honey. You look dead on your feet.”
And before River knew what was happening, she was sitting on the wooden bench against the split-rail fencing, beyond which seemed like miles and miles of thriving grapevines on rolling hill after rolling hill.
The woman next to her smiled reassuringly and took in River’s opened car, and the suitcase in it.
All her worldly possessions.
“You know what?” the woman said, standing, pulling River up with her. “It’s way too warm out here in the sun for me. I need to get inside. You’ll help me, won’t you?”
“Of course,” River said, but the truth was the woman was helping her, keeping a good grip on River’s arm. Her vision got cobwebby and the next thing she knew, she was sitting in a comfy, cushy chair inside the cool reception area, her feet up on a low coffee table strewn with brochures on the winery and the surrounding areas, sipping water from a real glass with ice cubes.
“Better?” the woman asked worriedly.
River blinked. She’d nearly passed out. Oh, this was bad. Very, very bad. She needed to be able to take care of herself and her baby. “Much better,” she said and mustered a smile past her panic and pounding heart. She started to get up, but the woman stopped her.
“Not yet,” she said quietly. “Wait right here.”
And then she vanished out the set of French double doors at the other end of the building.
River allowed herself a second to lean her head back and close her eyes as she ran a hand over her swollen belly. “We’re okay,” she whispered, as she’d been doing ever since the shocking day she’d learned she was pregnant.
With no time for a pity party, she straightened and started to hoist herself out of the chair, but was stopped short by the sight of the woman coming back into the room carrying a plate of food that smelled nothing short of amazing.
“I thought you might be hungry. I’m Cora, by the way,” the woman said, handing River the plate filled with meat and cheese lasagna, baked bread, and a salad, all of it making her mouth water so that she lost her thoughts again and couldn’t speak. It was a good thing there was a fork on the plate or she’d have dived in with her fingers.
She was halfway through the food before she realized that she was literally hunched over it like a wild, rabid dog, inhaling like she hadn’t eaten in days. But it hadn’t been that long.
Had it?
Cora’s smile was nonjudgmental and easy. “What’s your name, child?”
“River.” She bit her lip. She shouldn’t have said that. “I . . . thank you.” She started to set the plate down on the coffee table but Cora shook her head.
“Finish,” she said.
River had just stuffed in another bite when the next question came.
“Are you here about the temp job?”
River stopped chewing and met Cora’s gaze. Job? “Uh . . . maybe . . . ?”
Cora smiled. “That would be lovely. It’s for the receptionist position, which as you can see is empty. My niece Cecilia was working the desk, but she’s taking some college courses and is feeling overwhelmed.” She pointed to the HELP WANTED sign in the window.
River looked at it and her heart started pounding again.
“Once Cecilia figures out how to handle both classes and the job, she’ll most likely come back,” Cora said. “But that could be months and we need someone now. Do you have any experience?”
“Um . . .” River’s mind raced but she didn’t have to lie to answer this question. “I waitressed at the busiest truck stop in the country, the one on Highway 15 in Barstow.”
“Wow,” Cora said. “So you’re good at serving assholes.”
River blinked at the swear word coming out of sweet Cora’s mouth. “Yes, ma’am. Very good,” she said, tasting the irony.
“Oh, the only ma’am around here is my mom. You can call me by my given name. Any other experience?”
“Well . . . I was going to Barstow’s community college at night to become an LVN, a licensed vocational nurse,” River admitted shyly. Barstow wasn’t the greatest little town in the world but for a while there, it’d been good to her. Until her world had caved in.
“Was?”
River put a hand on her belly. “I finished my first semester a few months ago but had to skip semester two.” For lack of funds. A severe lack. Not to mention she’d been sick and so tired.
And devastated . . .
Cora was looking thoughtful and sympathetic, a powerful combination for River because it made her feel things when she’d been trying so hard not to feel anything at all. She had no idea what she thought she was doing here. She’d only intended to get a look at the place and figure out how to get back what was rightfully hers, but she’d been sucked right in.
“This job would be a piece of cake compared to waitressing and taking classes at the same time,” Cora said. “The responsibilities are answering the phone and making people feel warm and welcome when they come in the front door. If they’re here for a tour, you’ll seat them, make small talk if they’re interested, and keep them happy and comfortable until their tour guide comes for them.”
“That sounds easy enough,” River heard herself say.
Cora smiled. “It’s a fun job. I had it myself when I was your age.”
“And now you’re the receptionist’s boss?”
Cora laughed, a musical sound. “Baby, I’m everyone’s boss. I run the place.”
“Wow,” River whispered in awe. “You must be really smart.”
“Mostly I’m just a quick learner. And I bet you are too. The job isn’t quite full-time hours, but it pays decently.”
River wasn’t sincerely considering this, was she? She wasn’t here for this. Besides, she had bigger problems, and no matter how “decently” the job paid, she knew it still wouldn’t be enough to make it so that she could afford a place to live.
Cora was quiet a moment, her head turned, her gaze pensive as she looked out the window. Possibly looking at River’s car, although River hoped not.
She’d been on her own since age fifteen and it was a point of pride that she hadn’t starved to death in the six years since. But while that much was true, she wasn’t exactly proud of the fact that she was currently homeless.
Which brought her to her current mission, a mission she was forgetting about because Cora kept sweetening the pot.
“We’re not super close to town. To make up for that, we also provide room and board.”
River stilled. “Room and board, meaning . . .”
“We’ve got a series of small cottages for our employees if they so choose, and there’s a community lunch every day. You’d be on your own for the other two meals, but there’s always containers of food in the employee fridge, if you don’t mind leftovers.”