The Memory House. Линда Гуднайт

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The Memory House - Линда Гуднайт MIRA

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He was running low and had no idea where he was going. Right now, his head pounded and he couldn’t think straight. Remembering a park he’d passed on the way in, he headed there. Parks had been his friends and sometimes his bedrooms since his release. Saving enough money to rent an apartment wasn’t easy to do when all a man could find were odd jobs. The minute he filled out application forms and admitted he was a convicted felon, employment offers disappeared.

      He pulled into the graveled parking space, got out of the Dodge and walked to a shady concrete table. Birds had been there first, leaving behind their calling cards. Glad to be outside in the fresh air with the deep green leaves hanging overhead, Eli propped his elbows on the hard concrete and watched red birds peck the ground for the remains of someone’s Cheetos.

      Life was a dilemma. As much as he hated prison, he’d understood it. The boring routine, the men to avoid, the unspoken rules about keeping his mouth shut and his head down. But out here in the real world was different. He wondered if he’d ever adjust.

      He had a son. That one fact hammered away at him like the woodpecker in the live oak next to the merry-go-round. He wondered if his son played here. Had Mindy brought him? Had she pushed him on the swings or had she been too sick and weak to play anymore? Opal certainly couldn’t. What kind of childhood would his son have with a sick old woman who could barely walk?

      He tugged his wallet from his back pocket and counted his money. Thirty-seven dollars. A man couldn’t take care of a child on that amount.

      When a black-and-white car pulled up next to his Eli tensed, watching a uniformed policeman exit the cruiser and walk around the Dodge. The cop would call in the out-of-town plates. Find them clean. No use getting in a panic.

      But Eli’s palms sweated.

      The officer saw him and stepped over the low cable fence. Eli drew a breath, releasing the air in a slow, calming exhale. He had nothing to hide. A stranger in a small-town park would naturally arouse curiosity. He shouldn’t have stopped here.

      “’Morning.”

      “’Morning.”

      “I’m Trey Riley, Honey Ridge Police Department. Don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

      “Eli Donovan. I’m down from Nashville. Visiting family.” That much was true. He had a son in Honey Ridge. Poor kid.

      “Is that your Dodge?”

      Eli offered a wry expression. “Such as it is. I had a little car trouble this morning.”

      “Yeah?” Officer Riley turned to look at the old clunker. “Anything I can help with?”

      “Bad battery. It’s running now.” He chuffed. “Or it was when I stopped. A man at the inn gave me a jump.”

      “Peach Orchard Inn?”

      “Yes.”

      “Nice place. Julia and Valery have done a great job restoring it. When I was a kid we thought the house was haunted.” Trey Riley chuckled, a nice easy sound as though he laughed often. “Mostly wild stories about Civil War ghosts to keep kids out, I think, but I’m glad to see the place inhabited by the living for a change.”

      Eli didn’t know what to say. His conversation skills had taken a hit in the past seven years. “She makes good coffee.”

      He remembered then, with guilt, that he still had her cup.

      “You should taste her peach tea. Man alive!” Riley drew out the last word with a grin and a head shake. “Great stuff. I’ve been known to show up on her doorstep in the afternoons—official business, of course—” he laughed again “—to beg an ice-cold glass of pure Southern heaven. Julia puts up with me. My mom buys peaches from her.”

      Eli couldn’t quite take in the fact that he was having a friendly, man-to-man conversation with a police officer who seemed to be a decent guy.

      “I noticed the orchard.”

      “I guess it’s blooming.”

      “Real pretty.” Like pink, fluffy clouds.

      “Spring’s the best in Honey Ridge. Lots of things blooming.” Officer Riley tugged at a well-creased pant leg and propped his gleaming black service shoe on the cement bench. “Gorgeous morning to stop here.”

      “Nice park.”

      “It is, isn’t it? Honey Ridge is a nice town. I lived away for a while but when this job opened up, I was happy to come home again.”

      “You have family here?” There. That wasn’t so hard.

      “All of them. Mother, Dad, three sisters.”

      “Three?”

      “Yeah, go ahead. Pity me.” Officer Riley laughed again. “They’re great. Really. They drive me crazy, too. Always trying to marry me off to one of their girlfriends.”

      Eli smiled. Family. He wished he could go home to a loving bunch that would drive him crazy and care about his single status. Instead, he was alone. No, not completely. He had a child. A son who needed him. And he had nothing to offer but himself.

      The thought depressed him. A kid deserved better. There was no way he could care for a child.

      But if he didn’t, who would? The boy would be as alone as he was. He knew how that felt. He knew about having no one to turn to. He’d been thirteen when life had begun to unravel. His son was only six, a year older than Jessica had been, and already the boy’s life was in shreds.

      Before he could operate the smarter side of his brain, Eli said, “You wouldn’t know of any job openings around here, would you?”

      “Are you looking to stay on in Honey Ridge?”

      “I might if I can find work.”

      Officer Riley squinted up into the leafy oak where the woodpecker was having a heyday. “Let’s see. If you’re not picky, food places like Jose’s Pizza and Miss Molly’s Diner are always shorthanded. And you can check with the quick-stops, the horse ranches and Big Wave.”

      When Eli tilted his head at the last, Riley explained. “Big Wave builds custom boats. They’re located west of town. I don’t know if they’re hiring, but it’s worth a shot. Ask for Jan. She’s the big boss.”

      “Okay.”

      “Oh, and Julia out at Peach Orchard wants to renovate the old carriage house into guest rooms. I don’t know if she’s ready to start or if she has the money yet, but you could ask.”

      A little thrill zipped through Eli at the thought of seeing Julia again. He tamped back the emotion, feeling foolish for even thinking about a good woman. Yet, he’d much prefer working on a remodel than being trapped inside a building all day.

      “Thanks for the ideas.”

      “I hope you find something. Honey Ridge is a good place for law-abiding citizens to call home.” He dropped his foot to the ground. “If you need any help with that Dodge, give me a shout.”

      As

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