welcome.” Sara handed Laurel a brightly colored mug of steaming brew then sat across from Kyle in a prim position, feet together, back ramrod straight.
Sara hadn’t poured a cup of coffee for herself. Instead, her long, thin fingers wrapped around a glass of plain water. Here in the kitchen, under the bright fluorescent lights, Sara might have passed for a teenager, except her serious eyes and the hint of worry lines around them told him she was older. Those eyes said she’d seen the rough side of life.
If Laurel had been a social worker, was Sara one of her “cases”? His questions about the younger woman mounted, matching the hum of the printer working overtime in Laurel’s office around the corner. He studied Sara more closely. She didn’t wear makeup. But then she didn’t need it. She had a natural beauty—high cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes and wide mouth, all visible now that she’d scraped back her hair into a ponytail.
The room’s silence forced Kyle to refocus. He realized that Laurel had asked him his plans.
“I’m inquiring because Marla suggested you might be willing to give us a hand. I thought perhaps you could teach my boys what living in the North Country means.” Her smile flashed. “I’ve heard you’re the best tracker these parts have ever seen.”
Sara’s unusual eyes widened and refocused on him.
“Was, maybe.” Kyle grimaced at his messed-up leg then frowned at her. “Who told you about my tracking?”
“Everyone in town talks about you, Kyle. They’re so proud of your service overseas.” She went on to list all the things she thought he could teach her young offenders.
“Wait.” Kyle had to stop her. “I wish you success, Laurel. But I can’t take that on right now. Even if I could still do what I once did. Which I can’t.”
“I see.” She didn’t say anything more, nor did her face give away her thoughts.
Sara’s forehead furrowed in a frown as if she had a question. But she didn’t speak.
“And as for plans, I don’t have any firm ones yet.” He took a gulp of his coffee, glanced at his watch and knew he had to leave now, while the pain was still manageable. “I’m taking things one day at a time.”
Just then a low, menacing rumble filled the room, followed by a loud pop.
“Oh, it’s that dratted printer again. I’m beginning to wish I’d never seen the thing. It’s become my worst nightmare.” Laurel jumped up and raced to her office.
Sara’s wide eyes met his. “Excuse me.” She followed Laurel. It seemed as if she was eager to get away from being alone with him.
Kyle decided there was no point in sitting in the kitchen by himself. He walked to the office and paused in the doorway behind Sara, slightly shocked by what he saw. Two computers took up most of the floor space. They lay open, as if someone had been tinkering. A half-destroyed keyboard sat on top of a file cabinet beside a hard drive with six screws taped to it. In the corner, an assortment of cords and cables spilled out of a tattered cardboard box. He couldn’t decide if someone was tearing apart PCs or putting them together.
“Can we do anything?” Sara asked after exchanging a tiny smile with Kyle.
“I have no idea what’s wrong this time,” Laurel said, glowering at the now-silent printer. “I suppose I’ll have to call Winnipeg and get another sent out.” She exhaled. “That will take at least three days.”
“I can clean things up,” Sara offered. “But I’d be no help with fixing anything electrical.”
“I might be. My dad tinkered with computer stuff and I often helped him.” The words poured out before Kyle could stop himself. “Want me to take a look?”
“Would you?” Laurel stood back. “It’s jammed,” she explained.
“Yeah, I see that.” Kyle hid his grin as he eased past Sara. He pulled over an office chair and sank onto it, bending to examine the innards of the machine. With painstaking slowness he eased bits and pieces of paper free. After a moment of watching him, Sara brought a trash can so he could throw out the scraps. “Thanks.”
She didn’t smile, simply nodded. But those gray-silver eyes of hers followed every move he made between quick glances at the monitor. Since it was filled with an error message, Kyle couldn’t figure out what was so captivating. He refocused on the printer, removing the ink cartridge and resetting it after he’d lifted out the last shredded bit of paper.
“She has quite a stack of paper here. Do you suppose she’s printing a book?” he teased, winking at Sara.
“Sort of.” Sara picked up one of the printed sheets and read it. “It looks like a list of rules and procedures at Lives Under Construction. Is there one for each boy?” she asked Laurel.
“Yes. I was hoping to have them done before the boys get here.”
“Don’t worry.” Sara reached out and squeezed her fingers. Kyle noticed a smile flit across her lips. “I’m sure Kyle can do something. Can’t you?” She looked at him with a beseeching gaze that made him want to fix this fast. Why was that?
“It’s a good printer,” he told them. “But it’s touchy about loading in a lot of paper.”
“I think I know what that means. You’re not supposed to print more than a certain number of sheets at a time and then refill. Right?” She raised her eyebrows, waiting for Kyle’s agreement.
“Yes. That would be a good idea. But for now this thing needs a new part before it will work again.” He stood too quickly and clasped the corner of the desk to balance. A millisecond later Sara’s hand was on his elbow, steadying him.
There it was again, that lightning-bolt reaction to Sara’s touch. Kyle eased out of her grasp as fast as he could without looking rude.
“I suppose a new part will take forever to get here and cost the earth.” Laurel sighed.
“Not necessarily. My dad used to have a printer like this.” Kyle smiled at the memory. “Dad was a pack rat. I’m pretty sure the old printer is still in a closet somewhere. I could see if it’s still there and strip the part for you, if you want.” He didn’t look at Sara. The flare from her touch still lingered on his skin.
“But you’ve just come home,” Laurel said. “I’m sure you’re tired.”
“I’m fine.” Not quite true but Kyle wasn’t going to tell her that.
Laurel glanced once at the printer, her longing obvious. “Look, Kyle. I appreciate it, but—”
“Laurel, let him try,” Sara urged.
“She’s right,” Kyle agreed, surprised by Sara’s mothering tone. “Let me take a look at home first. If I can’t find anything, then you’ll have a better idea of your next step.”
“See? That makes sense.” Sara grinned at him as if they shared a secret and when she did, his heart began to gallop.
Kyle tried to ignore the effect this stranger was having on him.
“You’re
