The Baby Gift. Day Leclaire
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She confirmed his guess with an abrupt nod. “I was on the road most of the night.”
Removing the fireplace screen, he tossed a couple of logs onto the grate. “Why was that?”
She started to answer, hesitating at the last minute. He suspected she’d rather not explain, but after a moment’s consideration, she shrugged. “You might as well know the truth.” Digging in her pocket she pulled a wad of crumpled bills and a handful of change. She set it on the table next to the two mugs of cold coffee, smoothing each bill with great precision. “That’s every last penny I have to my name.”
Alessandro winced. Replacing the fire screen, he rocked back on his heels and did a swift, silent count. Not good. At most she had a whole twenty-five bucks heaped there. “Kind of tough to get a car repaired with that. Not to mention putting a roof over your head and food on your table.”
Nick toddled over to examine the money and she scooped it up, returning it to her pocket. “I’m not afraid of hard work. I suspect I can clean rooms in exchange for a place to stay.”
“Not likely.” No doubt that was one of the ways she’d worked her way from North Carolina to California. Too bad it wouldn’t work here. Giving himself time to think, he crossed to a closet on the far side of the room and opened the door. Spying the box he wanted, he dragged it out and presented it to Nick. The boy took one look at the overflowing carton of toys and crowed in delight. “Have at it, kid. My treat.”
The woman laughed in amazement. “Goodness gracious! That’s more toys than he’s seen in all his born days. Come to think of it, it’s more toys than I’ve ever seen.”
Alessandro grinned. “You saw my family photo. With all those kids, we keep the cabin well-supplied with playthings. I think the general consensus was better safe than sorry.”
“It must make a nice treat for them. I’ll bet they love coming here. Though your idea of a cabin and mine are somewhat different. Where I come from a cabin is a whole lot smaller and rougher. No more than a one or two room affair.” Her gaze swept the cypress-trimmed cathedral ceiling. “Not a mansion like this.”
“True. But cabin sounds so much more modest.”
Her mouth curved into a quick smile which faded to an apprehensive frown. He could tell she’d just absorbed his earlier comment about the local motels. “You said…not likely. Why isn’t it likely that I can clean rooms in exchange for a place to stay?”
“The motels in the area are booked solid between now and the New Year.”
She stilled. “You neglected to mention that earlier.”
“I thought I’d save the news until the tow truck showed up.” He crossed to the window and glanced outside. The storm hadn’t lessened any. Rather it had grown worse. A white lump remained in the middle of the driveway, its blanket of icy snow far thicker than it had been earlier. It didn’t come as any surprise to find Babe hadn’t been moved. “Though I doubt that tow’s going to happen. This storm hit harder than anyone anticipated.”
“When do you think he’ll come?”
“No time soon.” Alessandro threw her a warning look over his shoulder. “Not that you have enough in your pocket for a tow, let alone car repairs, even if Lou does put in an appearance.”
To his amazement, she smiled confidently. “I’ll work something out with the mechanic. I’ll bet I can pick up a waitressing job. I’m experienced at that. And if the motels are as busy as you say, they’re bound to need a part-timer to lend a hand.” She practically vibrated with cheerful optimism. Quite a switch from her earlier distress. Based on what he’d observed so far, he suspected her current attitude came closer to reflecting her true personality. “Maybe someone will be kind enough to take in a boarder. A widow lady or a pensioner. They always appreciate extra pocket money.”
He deliberately wiped all inflection from his voice. “Could be.” Though he doubted it. There were usually a slew of college students only too eager to earn a few bucks over the holidays, especially if it meant they could ski during their off-hours. “You still haven’t explained what you’re doing here.”
“Time enough to deal with that later,” she retorted briskly. “I think the first order of business is to figure out where Nick and I are going to stay for the night.”
“There isn’t any choice. You’ll have to stay here.”
“Look, Alessandro, before you make offers you might not want to keep, there’s something I need to—” She broke off, her expression switching from determined to appalled.
He stiffened. Alessandro. She’d called him Alessandro. “How the hell do you know my name?” he questioned with biting softness. Now that he thought about it, this was the second time she’d used it. She’d called to him when she’d first awoken, before panicking about Nick. If he hadn’t been jerked out of a sound sleep, he’d have caught her error sooner. “We never introduced ourselves.”
“I can explain—”
“Have we met?” He approached, crowding her against the sofa. The quilts tumbled from her arms to the floor again, cascading to her feet in a stream of vibrant color. “Or is this some sort of setup? Who the hell are you?”
She stared at him, unicorns and Santa Claus and impossible dreams returning to her eyes. He halted abruptly, unwilling to invade further into such alien territory. “Don’t you remember me?” she pleaded.
“Should I?”
“I was hopin’ you might. We met a while back.”
He swept her with a swift, penetrating glance, struggling to find something even remotely familiar about her. From what he could see of her beneath the ill-fitting clothing, there was lean strength in the fine-boned frame and an appealing delicacy to her features. She met his gaze unflinchingly, her expression open and straightforward, if a shade wary. Not even the unusual blue shade of her eyes struck a chord, though the stoic resolve reflected there gave him pause. No. He’d have remembered if they’d ever met.
“It must have been a while back,” he said, giving her the benefit of the doubt. “Are you related to my ex-wife? Did we meet at the wedding?”
Her jaw clenched. “No. We met two years ago this coming March.”
March? She’d chosen an interesting time period, one with a big, black hole right in the middle of it. His mouth tightened. Or did she already know that? After all, the events of that month weren’t a secret. He analyzed her expression, searching for some clue to what she had planned. Something wasn’t right about this—about her. He’d suspected it from the start. If he hadn’t been so distracted by his reaction to her, he’d have pursued that sense of wrongness sooner. Whatever the case, he’d had enough.
He moved away, giving them both some much-needed breathing space. They might never have met before—at least, that he could remember—but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t have been interested in getting to know her more intimately, if circumstances had been different. He was forced to acknowledge the underlying attraction, an irrational, if undeniable firing of the senses. Still… Common sense urged caution—and he’d