The old man’s teeth were chattering, and he seemed too worn out to speak. Jack helped him shuffle through the living room and ease into the recliner.
The woman stood in the doorway dripping rainwater from her coat and a hood that obscured her face. Jack asked, “The rest of your stuff is in the car?”
“I can get it.”
“There’s a quilt in the closet in the master. Why don’t you grab that?” He cut his gaze toward the old man.
She paused a moment, nodded to the keys she’d tossed on the coffee table, and headed down the hall.
Jack snagged the car keys, ducked through the rain, and popped her trunk. He lifted a large fancy suitcase, a smaller beat-up suitcase, and a giant department store sack. He returned to drop the things inside before running back out. Seemed the woman had loaded up on groceries. He hooked the bags over his arm and grabbed a case of Gatorade and took them to the kitchen. Back outside, he checked the trunk one more time before opening the rear door. A box containing a brand new flat-screen TV was positioned on the backseat. A purse and a small duffel bag were on the floor behind the passenger seat. He hooked the purse and duffel around his arm and then pulled out the TV. It was a decent size with a handle on the top of the box to make it easy to carry. He slammed the car door with his hip and hurried inside to keep the box from getting too wet.
In the living room, he set the TV box in front of the stand and the purse and duffel on the sofa.
Harper’s back was to him as she helped the man out of his wet jacket. She was still wearing hers. Probably too chilled to take it off.
He should take his off, too. Not that he hadn’t already dripped all over the living room and kitchen. And he hadn’t exactly been invited to stay. “What can I do?”
“We got it,” she said, not bothering to turn. “Thanks.”
She got the old man’s jacket off, set it beside the hat on the hearth, then tucked the quilt around him. “You warming up?”
“It’s colder than a witch’s—”
“Gramps…”
The man’s words died as Harper backed away, shed her own jacket, and turned toward Jack. “Thanks for your help.”
“Uh…” Whatever he’d been about to say died on his lips. Holy cow, she was beautiful. Straight blond, shoulder-length hair, blue eyes, Hollywood cheekbones. And a body that made him congratulate himself for noticing she had a face.
Her eyebrows lifted as if she knew what he was thinking.
“Right,” he said. “No problem. Good thing I happened along when I did.”
“We’d have made it.” She crossed her arms and attempted a smile, though the effort looked painful. “We just needed a little rest.”
He let the comment pass and turned to the man. “I’m Jack.”
“I’m not deaf,” he said. “Heard you outside.” The gruff words were barely out before he broke into a smile. “Harold Burns. But everybody calls me Red, on account of my luxurious red hair.” He ran a hand over his head, which was bare as a dog’s belly.
Jack shook the man’s hand. His fingers were ice. “Great to meet you, Mr. Burns.”
“Didn’t you hear me, boy? It’s Red.”
“Okay, Red.” He turned to Harper, who was staring at the bags on the floor. She looked like she wanted to cry. He was pretty sure, based on the red in her eyes, that the moisture on her face when he’d found them was from more than rain. “Why don’t I take those back to the bedrooms for you. Which ones go where?”
“I can do it,” she said.
He swallowed his sarcastic answer. “I bet you’ve had a heckuva day. Let me help.”
He was sure she was going to argue. Then, her shoulders slumped. “Yeah, okay. Thanks. The bigger suitcase goes in the bigger room, the smaller one and the duffel in my room.”
He glanced at the smaller suitcase, which was fastened closed with duct tape. “Nice luggage.” He’d meant the words to be teasing, but added “no offense” when her back stiffened.
“It broke.”
“I see that.” He grabbed the things before she could change her mind and order him out of his own house.
His house, except he’d rented it to them. He had no right to be there. So far his plan to make his way in real estate was working out swimmingly.
Despite Harper’s defensiveness, Jack was glad he’d seen them when he’d driven by. He’d been keeping an eye out for his new tenants all day, so he hadn’t been surprised at the car in the driveway. He had been surprised to see two figures struggling up the steps.
He set the bags where she’d directed and returned to the living room. Red was staring at the box on the floor. In the kitchen, Harper had opened cabinets and was staring inside. They were all clean, lined with fresh liner, and, of course, empty.
“You looking for something?” he asked.
She pulled a cell phone from her jeans’ pocket, peered at it, and tossed it on the countertop. “Piece of crap.”
“No service?”
“Can’t even order a pizza. I guess it’s cold sandwiches.”
He cut his gaze to the shopping bags. Clearly, she was too tired to cook.
“I have a phone you can borrow,” he said. “Better yet, why don’t I run home and grab some dinner? I made a pot of chili tonight, and there’s plenty to share. You guys like chili?”
“I don’t—”
“We love chili,” Red shouted.
She lowered her voice. “He loves it, but spicy food doesn’t agree with him.”
“Still not deaf,” Red yelled.
She closed her eyes, dropped her head.
Jack had the sudden urge to laugh, which he was smart enough to stifle. “I have some chicken and gnocchi soup in the freezer. I can defrost it and be back in a flash.”
She turned again to the empty cabinets, opened the empty drawers. “I don’t know why I thought furnished meant there’d be dishes.”
Ah. She had nothing to cook with or eat on.
“It’s not a timeshare,” he said.
“I know that. I just…”
When she didn’t finish, he said, “Why don’t you sit?”
She stared at the table, didn’t move. “Been sitting for twelve hours.”
“And you look like you’re about to drop.” He stepped out of the doorway and gestured to the sofa. “Have a seat. I’ll take care of dinner, and after you’ve eaten, you can regroup. Okay?”
She seemed to be formulating an argument, so he walked away. There was another quilt still in the house, a castoff from the previous owners. He’d thought to take the handmade blankets home with him, maybe try to sell them like he planned to do with the rest of the stuff the previous owners had left. Most of that was still in his garage collecting dust. But the quilts were too nice to leave out there, and his house was always in some stage of reconstruction. He’d forgotten about them until tonight. He snatched the quilt from the closet in Harper’s room intending to use it to entice her to sit, but when he returned, he found her half sitting, half lying across the sofa. He draped it over her, and she smiled.
Oh, man. That was the kind of smile that could compel a man to wrestle giants.
“Thanks,” she said. “You’re right. I’m so tired, I can’t think.”
“Been there.”
She glanced past him to the TV box, and he debated. Entertainment or food? Maybe a little escape from reality would do them both good.
“Don’t just stand there, boy,” Red said. “Set it up. Let’s see if there’s anything on.”
“Okey-doke. I’ll see what I can find.” He removed the packaging, got the TV out, and plugged it in. It went through its start-up sequence, finally finding a few channels. Not a lot, but without cable or satellite, it was all they’d get. “Looks like we have news, cartoons, or Frasier reruns.”
“Frasier.” Red left no room for arguing, and Harper didn’t seem to care.
“I’ll be back in a little bit.” He focused on Harper. “For now, just rest. Okay?”
“I don’t need…” But her argument was cut-off by a yawn.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He walked out before she could stop him.