Normally, Jason loved church dinners. He’d eat massive amounts of fried chicken, marshmallow fluff salad and green beans cooked to within an inch of their lives and still save room for a couple of pieces of pie.
Today, sitting across the long table from Erica, he wasn’t even hungry.
This thing with Erica was getting weird. Intense. Dangerous.
He hadn’t dated anyone since Renea, and for good reason; she’d pegged him correctly as bad at relationships. Before her, he’d dated a lot, but it had all been shallow. His heart hadn’t been involved in the least.
But against his will, he was connecting with Erica, feeling strangely close to her. To the point where, when he’d seen her tension at the clothing giveaway, he’d wanted to ease it.
He’d wanted to pull her into his arms, but he knew better. So he’d done something to help her sons, instead.
He hadn’t even minded, because he liked Mikey and Teddy, which was weird because he was not a baby kind of guy. He’d bought them a couple of matching outfits, flannel shirts and jeans, rugged country winter clothing they could wear as they crawled around the floor of the house.
That was the thing, though: he wanted them in the house, not out at the cabin.
He could blame his desire for them to stay on Papa, but the truth was he wanted them there for himself.
Wanted Erica there for himself.
“Eyes bigger than your stomach, young man?” Mrs. Habler, an apron tied around her waist, scolded as she looked at his still-full plate. “I made that three-bean salad, you know.”
“And it’s delicious,” Erica said, giving Jason a chance to shove some into his mouth and nod.
Mrs. Habler turned to focus on Erica. “Still staying out at Holly Creek Farm, are you? Tongues have been wagging, I’m afraid.”
“Erica was a friend of Kimmie’s,” Jason interjected. “Having her and her boys there is making Papa happy.”
“Then that’s reason enough, and I’ll try to quell the gossip.”
“Wait a minute, Mrs. Habler.” Erica put a hand on the woman’s arm. “You seem like you know a lot of what’s going on in town. Do you happen to know of any job openings?”
Now, that was interesting. Suggested that Erica would stay around, as did her desire to fix up the cabin, actually.
The thought put way too much joy into his heart.
“I might know of a couple of things.” Mrs. Habler pulled out a chair and sat down beside Erica. “I just heard Cam Cameron is looking for help at the hardware store. And there’s going to be an opening at Tiny Tykes Day Care, since Taylor McPherson got put on bed rest today.”
Erica’s eyes widened. “I love kids. And maybe the twins...” Her cheeks flushed with obvious excitement. “Does anyone from the day care happen to be here tonight?”
“Ruth Delacroix is in the nursery, I believe. She’s the owner.”
“I know her!” Erica clapped her hands together. “Maybe that’s what God has in mind for me. Thank you so much, Mrs. Habler!” She leaned over and gave the woman a one-armed hug.
“You’re surely welcome.” Mrs. Habler bustled over toward a small group of women clustered near the kitchen, clearly delighted to have put her interfering skills to work.
Erica looked to be brimming with excitement, but before they could discuss the possibility of her working at Tiny Tykes, Pastor Wayne stood to offer a message.
“Keep it short, Pastor!” one of the men cleaning off tables called, grinning.
“That’s not in my skill set, George,” the pastor called back to general laughter.
As he launched into a message welcoming guests and focusing on coming home to Christ if you’d been astray, Jason finished his plate of food, listening to the pastor’s remarks with half an ear.
He hadn’t felt the presence of God in some time, even though he dutifully attended church with Papa when he came home. He’d gotten angry at God for letting Kimmie go downhill so badly. Which was wrong, of course.
He hadn’t done things right, faithwise. It looked like Kimmie hadn’t, either. It occurred to him that he didn’t know whether Kimmie had been right with the Lord or not when she’d died.
As for himself—was he right with the Lord? He’d certainly strayed far away.
Appropriately enough, the pastor was sharing the story of the prodigal son. As he started to wrap it up, Ruth Delacroix came into the fellowship hall and approached Erica. For a moment Erica looked excited, but as Ruth whispered to her, she looked increasingly concerned. As soon as the pastor finished, Erica followed Ruth out of the fellowship hall.
Jason debated with himself. He shouldn’t follow after Erica, should he? For one thing, as Mrs. Habler had said, tongues were already wagging. For another, Erica could handle things herself and didn’t need him interfering.
But the worry on her face...
Before he half knew what he was doing, he was out of his chair and headed out the same door where Erica had gone.
When he reached the nursery, the twins looked to be fine—a relief.
But Erica didn’t.
She was sitting on the floor next to Lori Samuelson, the local pediatrician and an active member of the church, while Ruth dealt with the twins and two other toddlers and listened in.
It wasn’t his business, and it wasn’t right to eavesdrop. The twins were fine. But as he turned to leave, he caught Erica’s concerned question: “So you think it’s serious?”
“They’re quite delayed for fifteen months. The earlier you get help for them, the more likely they’ll catch up by the time they’re in school.”
He forced himself to walk away, but he couldn’t force away the look on Erica’s face nor the worried tone of her voice.
The twins were in some kind of trouble. And for better or worse, he cared. He wanted to help.
* * *
“Can I take you to lunch as a thank-you?” Erica asked Jason the next morning as they drove away from Ruth Delacroix’s big Victorian home, half of which operated as the Tiny Tykes Day Care.
She felt like she was about to burst—with anxiety, with gladness, with worry and anticipation.
She’d basically gotten the job. She could start right after the Christmas week closure, provided her paperwork turned out fine. Best of all, the twins could come. They’d be together in the infants and toddlers’ room, and Erica would be alternating between that room and the preschoolers’ room. It would give the twins a lot of time with her, and some time without her, too, to get more accustomed to other people and to get a different kind of stimulation.
Their life here was shaping up—except for the secret she had to keep and the worry of getting the twins the help they needed. She had an idea about how to handle the early intervention issue, but she had to talk Jason into it very carefully.
“You don’t have to buy me lunch,” he said as he steered the truck through the snowy streets of downtown Holly Springs.
“I want to. What’s the best lunch place in town?”
He grinned over at her and her heart just about stopped. “Well, if you insist... I do love a good burger at Mandelina’s.”
“Let’s do it.” It was just a thank-you, she assured herself. Nothing more.
In the corner diner, overwhelming stimulation confronted them. The combined aroma of grease and coffee. Bright Christmas streamers, multicolored lights and three Christmas trees. “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer” blaring from corner speakers.
“The best place, huh?” she murmured as the hostess took them to the only empty booth.
“You’ll see.”
When the menus came, Jason plucked hers out of her hand. “I know what you’re going to do. You’re going to order a salad. It would be a mistake.”
“How’d you read my mind?” She lifted an eyebrow.
“You’re a light eater most of the time. But when in Rome...”
“Don’t make assumptions. I might surprise you.”
“Oh, really?” He held her gaze for a second too long.
The man was way too good at flirting. He was even tutoring her, a remedial student, in the art.
A chubby, twentysomething waiter appeared, pencil and pad in hand. “And what can I offer you fine people today?”
“I’ll have a burger and fries, please,” she said, earning a nod of approval from Jason.
“Same for me,” he said, and gave her a gentle fist bump. “Only trick is, Erica, you have to save room for pie.”
“You absolutely do, because it’s coconut cream today,” the waiter said as he took their menus. “It’s to die for. I had two pieces for breakfast, which was a mistake, but one for dessert will make you the happiest you’ve been in weeks.”
Hmm, she wanted Jason to be happy when she floated her idea. Should she wait until after dessert to suggest it? No, better do it now while he was smiling at her.
“I have a proposal for you.” She leaned forward.
He smiled and lifted an eyebrow. “I’m flattered, but we barely know each other.”
Her face heated. “Stop it! I’m serious.” And then she plowed into an explanation of her idea.
His face grew more disbelieving as she spoke. Not a good sign. “So you want to sell me your half of the farm, but let you live on it?”
“In exchange for my fixing up the cabin, yes. If you need me to pay a small amount of rent, I could do that.”
“But why would you do that, when you already own the place?”
She blew out a breath. This was the tricky part. “I need cash.” Which was true. “It’s been an expensive time, moving the boys across the country.”
“And losing your job,” he said, frowning. “But the farm will bring you a steady income. Surely that’ll be a plus for you as the boys grow up.”
She nodded and swallowed. “It would be. But I need the cash now.”
“Why?”
The waiter appeared with their drinks. “Don’t argue, be happy,” he said. “Hey, Jason, did you hear about what’s happening with Chuck and Jeannine Henderson?” And he launched into a dramatic breakup story that Jason appeared to want to avoid, but couldn’t cut off.
Their conversation gave Erica a minute to think. She’d anticipated that Jason wouldn’t warm to the idea immediately, so she couldn’t let that discourage her. She’d been pondering and praying all night, and this was the solution she’d come up with—especially now that she’d gotten a job.
Staying in the area would be good for the twins. Staying near their relatives.
But she had to get them early intervention. And she couldn’t get public assistance without a lot of paperwork, including birth certificates, which she didn’t have.
She knew that someday she’d have to go through the appropriate channels to get the twins their birth certificates and other paperwork. Probably, she’d need to hire a lawyer, maybe that one who’d been a friend of Kimmie’s.
But for the time being, lawyers’ fees were out of reach.
And the boys needed early intervention, now, and on an ongoing basis. A onetime trip to some clinic wasn’t going to be enough.
So she had to get private help, which would be no questions asked. The fact that it cost money was okay—as long as Jason would buy her half of the farm.
A busboy brought out plates, and their waiter waved a hand. “Thanks, Ger. Sorry I got to talking.” He put steaming plates down in front of them, and the aroma of burgers and fries wafted up.
“Here you go, Jason and...what did you say your name is?”
“I’m Erica.” She held out her hand.
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Henry, but you can call me Hank. And I need to get it in gear.” He turned and headed off.
The burger was enormous, so Erica sawed it in half with her butter knife.
Jason picked up his whole burger. “There are two kinds of people in the world,” he said, grinning. “The ones who are dainty with a hamburger and the ones like me.” He took a big bite.
Good. Let him eat up and get into a good mood. In fact, this burger could put her in a good mood, too; it was delicious.
Hank returned to their table, coffeepot in hand. “How is everything? More coffee, Erica?”
She swallowed and held out her cup. “Yes, please.”
She kept quiet during the rest of their lunch, letting Jason eat and thinking about what she needed to say or do to convince him. Be strong, girl. It’s for the twins.
Jason finished his meal and Erica ate half of hers and asked Hank to wrap up the rest. After he brought Jason a piece of pie, she launched into her proposal again. “Will you at least think about making a deal with the farm? You wouldn’t have to buy it all right away. We can do payments. Figure something out.”
He held up a big bite of pie. “Sure you don’t want to try it?”
“No, thanks. It’s just that,” she pushed on, “I need some of the money pretty soon, here.”
He put down his fork. “For the twins?”
She bit her lip. The fewer details he knew, the better.
“Is the reason you’re wanting to sell property so that you can pay for therapists and specialists?”
She looked away, trying to figure out how much to tell him.
“Look,” he said, pushing the rest of his pie away, “I’d hate to see you sell. It’s going to appreciate in value. You’re thinking short-term.”
“But they need help now,” she protested, shredding a napkin with nervous fingers.
He put a hand over hers, stilling them. “There’s a children’s health insurance program for low income people. They should have good services. Pennsylvania usually does.”
She pulled her hands away. “I don’t want to get public insurance.”
“I respect not wanting a handout, but programs for children’s health are different. You’ve had a hard time here, and you have two little ones. That’s exactly what those programs are for.”
“I don’t want it,” she said. Let him think it was pride.
Around them, the noise of the diner went on: forks clattering, people talking, the bells jingling on the door as it opened and closed.
“Could their father help?” Jason asked.
“No.”
“He should.”
“He’s in prison and he has no claim on them.”
Jason looked startled, and for a moment, she could see him sifting through images in his mind, trying to figure her out. He’d thought she was a drug addict, but he seemed to have ruled that out now. However, having the father of her children imprisoned put her back in that same sketchy camp in his mind, she could tell.
What he didn’t know, of course, was that the twins’ imprisoned father was Kimmie’s partner, not her own.
“I don’t understand why you won’t at least see a doctor and start the paperwork for CHIP. You could make a final decision later.”
He was trying to be so reasonable, and it was killing her, because under normal circumstances he’d be right.
Oh, Kimmie, why’d you put me in this position? Why couldn’t you have been up front with your family?
“Hey, Stephanidis.” A man with a military haircut, about Jason’s age and with similar muscles came over and shook Jason’s hand, an encounter that ended in a slight test of strength. “How’s the hard-line detective? Didn’t expect to see you out of your mean streets. How’s Philly going to stay safe without you?”
Jason introduced her but didn’t try to draw her into the conversation, which was fine.
As the two men talked, Erica bit her lip and pondered. She’d prayed and she knew that God would be with her no matter what. And yes, Kimmie had been a flawed person, and maybe wrong about Jason, but he would be angry about the deception, right? Angry enough to take the twins.
And once he had them, he’d have no reason to keep her around.
A guy like Jason wouldn’t want to keep someone like her around.
She loved the boys too much to let them go. Her desire to mother them grew every day.
As his friend left, Jason turned back to her, smiling. “Come on now, Erica. Won’t you just try signing up for CHIP?”
“I’m not getting public insurance!”
“Don’t you care about your kids?”
“It’s because I care about them that I won’t—”
“Hey, you two, I said no fighting.” Hank was back with the check. “Look, I brought you kisses to make you feel all better.” He put down the check with two foil-wrapped candies on top of it and spun away.
Erica reached for the check at the same time Jason did. She grabbed it, but his larger hand closed over hers. “Let me get this.”
“I said I was taking you out to lunch.”
“You need the money more than I do.”
“I can afford a lunch!”
“Put the money into your fund to help the twins.” Deftly, he got the check out of her hand, but she closed her hand on his.
His dark skin and large hand contrasted with her own small, pale one. But as far as calluses, she had as many as he did. She’d worked hard in her life, as had he.
“Let me have my dignity,” she said quietly, and immediately he let the check go. Understanding and sympathy shone in his eyes.
“Thank you for lunch. I appreciate it and it was really good.”
She could see that it cost him to let a woman pay, especially when Hank came over and took the money from her and lifted an eyebrow at Jason. But he didn’t protest any more.
“Look,” he said while they waited for change, “we need to talk more about the farm and what should be done with it. That’s not a discussion to finish in an hour, over lunch.”
“What do you say we talk about it while we’re working on the cabin?” she suggested. Because she had to get out of that house.
“Possible,” he said, nodding. “I have tomorrow afternoon free. Would that work for you?”
“As long as I can get Ruth to watch the twins again, yes.”
“It’s a date, then.” His words were light. But she could tell that his suspicions about her had been raised again.