“Are you going to keep us?” she whispered, slumping in the front seat.
“Do you want me to?”
Her brow furrowed. The war returned to her gaze. “I-I think so. I’m not sure.”
“Do you want to return to Jim?”
“No. But . . .”
She said it so quickly, so softly, that for several moments I could only stare at her. “What’s stopping you?” I asked.
Anguish filled her gaze. “Mama,” she murmured.
Maybe Lizbeth felt some obligation to Jim. An allegiance or responsibility to take care of him, or something. Or maybe it was being drawn back to the only place Mama had ever existed for her. Severing Jim from her life could mean burying Mama all over again. I’d come to terms with Mama’s death years ago, thanks to Dad, but Lizbeth hadn’t had that support. Both of them seemed to still be reeling from her absence.
That only added to my fear.
“I don’t know if I can give you what you deserve and need,” I whispered, rushing to add, “I’m barely scraping by as it is. The coffee shop is . . . not doing well. Even before you came, I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to keep it open. And there’s the question of legality.”
“I won’t be split up from Ellie.”
“I know. I just don’t know that I can promise to take care of you the way you need. I can . . . I can barely keep groceries stocked for myself,” I mumbled.
Jada’s words ran through my mind.
There are really good families that can keep them safe.
Could I keep them safe? Run the coffee shop, get them to school, afford a place to live that wasn’t a single-room studio above a store? What we had here could only be a very temporary bandage. The three of us living in a tiny room worked for now, but we’d soon need our own space. On some level, in Lizbeth’s eyes, I could see that she understood.
“I’ll work,” she said hastily. “I’ll do whatever. I can sleep on the floor and run the coffee shop. I’ll even homeschool so you don’t have to worry about driving me anywhere. I swear I can make it so I’m almost invisible and—”
I stopped her with a hand on her leg. “You deserve better than invisibility, Lizbeth. Nor would I ever ask that of you.”
Lizbeth pulled in a deep breath. A hint of tears sparkled in her eyes. “Tell me before you tell Ellie, whatever you decide. I’ll need time to make a plan that will keep her from running away.”
Ellie peered through the glass door into the shop, the blanket still over her head.
Stated so matter-of-factly, the words felt like a knife through my stomach.
“Of course.”
Lizbeth hesitated, then opened the car door and stepped out. “Thanks.”
The gravel ground under her feet as she walked inside, Ellie disappearing through the doorway with her. Within moments, the lamp flicked on upstairs. I stared at the gentle glow of the light before throwing the car into reverse with a deep sigh.
At least I wouldn’t be so lonely.
6
Maverick
When I strolled into the coffee shop the next morning, the smell of coffee beans greeted me.
Bethany stood behind the counter, hat-free. She looked at me, then the clock. Light barely tinged the horizon outside. Despite the wide-open door, I suspected she hadn’t thought a customer would stroll in at 5:30 a.m.
“You’re . . . up early,” she said.
No yoga pants today. A navy summer dress rippled in an early breeze, waving around her curved hips. Her hair billowed around her shoulders when she moved, falling to the middle of her arm. She seemed to be counting something behind the register. Bright-red lipstick outlined a pair of lips I couldn’t look away from.
“My team is on the East Coast,” I said, forcibly shifting my attention. Team being the new virtual assistant who would help me get this business running. While he worked on the setup there, I’d figure everything out here. “We’ll be getting started with meetings soon. Mind if I—”
I motioned toward the hole of an office I’d have to fold myself into.
She shrugged. “Go ahead. Do you want something to drink?”
“Black, two creams, no sugar.” Halfway to the room, I stopped and looked back. “How are you today, by the way?”
The question hung in the air between us, along with my acute curiosity as to why she looked so surprised that I’d asked. The awkward stillness lasted for a breath before she swallowed and said, “Ah, fine. Thanks.”
“Good.”
“You?”
“Good. Slept on the deck last night. There’s nothing quite like a mountain night in the summer.”
She softened into a half-smile. “As long as it’s warm, I would agree.”
My gaze roved the counters behind her, then I made a sound in the back of my throat. The machines were old and not much to brag about. Maintenance must be tricky and cost a lot. She could highly benefit from an investment into better machines, but she’d be hard to convince of that.
With one last nod, I disappeared into her office and shut the door. She hadn’t been kidding. There wasn’t even room to slide the chair back, so my knees butted up against the . . . desk—more like a wooden board cut to fit the width of the space, then supported and nailed into place by other boards.
She’d cleared it off, though, leaving just enough room for my laptop and a few papers.
I had a feeling she’d be worth it.
7
Bethany
I stared at my office door, flabbergasted.
With a blink, I turned back to the coffee machine and drew in a deep breath. Was he really that nice of a guy? Nothing about his inquiry felt like a pick-up line. But such a sprawling man didn’t strike me as the type to just be . . . kind.
Probably better that Maverick was holed up in the office so I didn’t stare at him. Drooling, almost, but I didn’t think he’d noticed that when he first sauntered in. As if he knew he looked like a Viking and didn’t mind using it to his advantage.
Maybe he wanted something from me.
No. It wasn’t like that, either. He’d seemed genuine when he’d asked about my day. Now I could just stare at the closed door and feel even crazier. Plus, everything was going to smell like pine in there, and my brain would never think again.
Thank you, attractive male dominance.
At least I’d worn lipstick.
I wondered what he saw when he looked at the shop. He certainly had studied it just now when he looked around. That wasn’t the first time I’d noticed it. As if he knew what it all meant, when I wasn’t even sure I did.
Did others see the same warmth and charm? Maybe it was a bit cluttered, but the place had a homey feel. Smelled like Dad. And sometimes like fish on a really hot day, but no one had ever complained. Besides, it was comfortable. Familiar. Like a constant hug from him.
That’s all that mattered.
The sound of the bell drew me back to the shop, and I turned as someone came through the drive-through, relieved to throw my thoughts into anything but Maverick.
The morning rush congregated as usual, but this time I was prepared. My flustered days were firmly behind me now that I had enough milk and the machines were running. But I still couldn’t stop yawning.