gooseflesh flying across her skin. “Your favorite, if memory serves.”
Katy accepted the candy, unable to meet Nate’s gaze. “Thank you.”
“And roses,” he murmured softly, taking a whiff of their fragrant scent. “I wanted to ask you to the prom my senior year and present you with a bouquet of roses and a box of candy, but I never got the chance.”
The reminder caused Katy to flinch as she accepted the flowers. Because of her father, Nate hadn’t been allowed to attend the prom or graduate with his class. God, how would Nate react if he knew the truth about that night he was spirited out of town? Katy wasn’t sure she could find the nerve to tell him.
“May I come in, Kat? I always wondered what the inside of this house looked like. Heaven knows I spent countless evenings staring at it from the street, wishing I was welcome here.”
The admission startled her, and it must have shown in her expression, because Nate’s obsidian eyes twinkled down at her. “I confided a lot of things to you in the old days, Kat, but I guess I was too embarrassed to tell you how I sat by the curb in my bucket-of-bolts car. I used to stare at your house, wishing…”
He shrugged impossibly broad shoulders in that lackadaisical way that once upon a time concealed his feelings of inferiority and frustration. Yet, this handsome hunk—as Tammy had referred to him—had nothing to be ashamed of now. He had obviously made something of himself. Not with laundered drug money, as Lester Brown had everybody thinking.
Despite the fact that Nate had been caught for possession of marijuana and cocaine that night he was arrested, Katy knew he never touched those illegal substances. Because of Gary Channing’s addiction to booze, Nate had developed a fierce aversion to liquor and drugs.
It outraged Katy no end to hear the cruel gossip Brown and Jessup were spreading around town, in an attempt to turn everybody against Nate. If Katy could have found the nerve to confront those two blowhards she would have rushed to Nate’s defense at lunch at the café today. But she had learned the hard way that to contradict a man could incite violence.
Instead of bounding up to refute Brown’s nasty gossip, she just sat there in her corner booth, staring at her plate, listening to that old cuss plant seeds of mistrust and contempt for Nate.
“May I come in?” Nate prompted, jolting Katy from her musings.
She stepped back to allow him inside. How could she refuse him? Nate deserved the opportunity to tour the house that Dave Bates had decreed off-limits to him.
“Wow,” Nate said as he surveyed the spacious living area that was furnished with expensive, refinished antiques. “No wonder the judge didn’t want me in here. He was probably afraid I’d break an irreplaceable heirloom.”
Katy smiled remorsefully. “This room was off-limits to me and my older brother, too,” she confided. “It was nothing but a showroom for Dad’s influential guests. James and I were confined to the playroom until we graduated from high school. I doubt that anyone sat on the flowered fainting couch or hand-carved gliding chair, except our forefathers who originally owned them.”
Nate breathed an inward sigh of relief. He finally had Katy talking. That was the most she had said to him since his arrival in town. He had made it a point to be on the sidewalk outside the library when she went to work the past three days, but she had merely nodded, ducked her head and limped into the library.
Maybe he was being sneaky by dressing as the dirt-poor kid she remembered and preying on her sympathy. But hell, this was the best strategy he’d come up with, even after three nights of profound deliberation. Fortunately, the strategy had worked. He was in the house, and Katy was talking to him, though she still refused to make eye contact for more than a nanosecond at a time.
“I don’t want to impose, but do you have time to give me the grand tour?”
“If you like,” Katy murmured, then ducked her head. “Let me get a vase for the roses.”
Nate followed at a respectable distance behind Katy as she limped through the formal dining room to the spacious kitchen—which had been remodeled and boasted every high-tech convenience. Nate expected that from Dave Bates. Nothing but the best for his children and himself. The sorry son of a bitch.
“Damn, maybe I’m glad I didn’t know what I was missing in the old days,” Nate commented, admiring the shiny oak cabinets, antique Hoosier cabinet and jelly cupboard. I would have been feeling even more sorry for myself when I went home to that pile of rubble that served as my house.”
When Katy failed to comment, just reached into the cabinet to retrieve a vase, Nate gestured toward the casserole dish that was steaming on the stove. “Am I interrupting? Are you expecting guests for supper?”
“No. Alice Rother’s son fell off the slipper slide during recess this morning and broke his arm. I fixed supper so the family would have something to eat when they return from the doctor’s office.”
“Skinny Alice has a kid?” Nate asked. “When I left town, she’d never even had a date, not to my knowledge.”
The comment provoked Katy’s smile. Nate felt as if he had worked a small miracle. There and then, he promised himself to find ways to make Katy smile more often.
“Alice married Cody Phelps after he divorced Mandy Slater. You probably wouldn’t recognize Alice if you saw her. She was a late bloomer who turned out to be quite attractive.”
“Yeah? Well, I’d have to see it to believe it,” Nate said, and chuckled.
Before Katy could take Nate on a tour of the house, a sharp rap resounded on the back door. “Excuse me a moment.”
She scuttled off, quickly closing the door behind her. Curious, Nate tiptoed over to peek through the kitchen window. To his amazement, he saw a teenage boy standing at the bottom of the steps. The kid had his hands crammed in the front pockets of his baggy jeans. He wore his dingy baseball cap backward, pulled down low over his mop of unruly hair.
“Need lunch money, Chad?” Katy asked her visitor.
Nate watched the teenager nod, then shuffle his oversize feet. Nate’s heart twisted in his chest, knowing that he was staring at a younger version of himself. Chad’s clothes and self-cut hair indicated a shortage of funds.
“You know the deal, Chad,” Katy said. “No drugs, only food. Don’t let yourself be sucked into the pressure put on by the kids you hang around with. I know they are razzing you, but don’t give in to them. Promise me?”
Chad bobbed his shaggy head. “Yes, ma’am.”
Katy pulled a twenty dollar bill from the pocket of her jeans and handed it to the teenager. “I’ve requested funds from the city council to hire a janitor. If the funds are approved, the job is yours. It will give you an excuse not to get involved with those troublemakers who have befriended you.”
“It’s not easy to break loose from them when nobody else will accept me,” Chad grumbled sourly, then swiped a hand across his faded shirt. “I can’t dress well enough to be accepted by the ‘in’ crowd in town.”
“You can spiff up your wardrobe when you get the job,” Katy encouraged him.
“I can’t afford to buy duds fancy enough to make
