sure how long he’ll be here, especially if he doesn’t get the job with Nick.”
“So Nick’s job brought him to Sweetwater?” Zoey took a sip of her iced tea.
“I think it was more than that. I think Samuel and his description of Sweetwater had a lot to do with it.” Samuel was a great counselor, and Tanya wondered if that had something to do with Chance coming to town. She just couldn’t shake the feeling he was hurting inside and needed help healing. She recognized the signs because she was in the same situation.
“Where’s he from?” Darcy asked.
“Louisville.”
“Well, it’s perfect timing. You’ve got a tenant and some extra money when you needed it the most. Nick might have his assistant. God works in wondrous ways.” Beth wiped her mouth and put the napkin beside her empty plate. “Samuel’s certainly glad Chance decided to come, even if it’s only for a while.”
Jesse leaned close, covering Tanya’s hand. “Just remember you’re not alone. Nick and I can help you financially if you need it.”
Overwhelmed by all their love, Tanya smiled, fighting the lump rising in her throat. “I know. You’ve mentioned it half a dozen times. But as I said before, Jesse, I have to stand on my own two feet. No more handouts.”
“Even with Samuel’s stamp of approval, I think we should take this meeting over to Tanya’s house and check this guy out.” Zoey gathered up her purse as though she was preparing to leave.
“And scare him off? No way! If you all descend on him, he won’t know what hit him. Remember, I need the extra money.”
“Okay, we won’t go over all at once. But I’ll be there later this afternoon.” Zoey rose.
Jesse slid from the large booth next. “I’ll come over after church tomorrow.”
“And I’ll see you tomorrow evening,” Beth added. “Samuel told me to tell you to bring Chance along to the barbecue.”
Darcy, the last to exit the booth, lumbered to her feet, putting her hand at the small of her back. “That leaves Monday after you get off work. I’ll come over after I visit my doctor.” She patted her round stomach. “Twelve weeks to go, but then who’s counting?”
“Certainly not you,” Tanya said with a laugh. Standing in the midst of her circle of friends, she shook her head. “You all are gonna scare the man away, so I don’t want any unexpected visits.” She started for the café door. “You’ll see him soon enough. Give him a chance to settle in.”
Her friends’ chuckles followed Tanya outside. She wouldn’t put it past each one of them to ignore what she’d said and show up right on time. She was lucky to have friends like them.
Tanya slid into her six-year-old white van, equipped with a lift for Crystal’s wheelchair, and backed out of her parking space. Turning down Third Avenue a few minutes later, she spied Chance, dressed in tan slacks and a black short-sleeved shirt, walking toward Berryhill Road with three large bags in his arms.
She pulled over to the curb and rolled down the window. “Want a ride?”
For a brief, few seconds he hesitated before he made his way toward the vehicle and placed one sack on the ground, then reached for the handle. After he climbed in, he settled two bags at his feet and one in his lap. “Thanks.”
Did he get the job? Tanya wondered but didn’t say anything. Instead, she drove in silence, aware of every minute movement Chance made. Even his clean, fresh scent saturated the air in the van.
Searching her mind for something to say, she dug her teeth into her bottom lip, painfully aware of one of her shortcomings. She wasn’t good at small talk, especially with strangers. Finally she lit upon a subject as she turned onto Berryhill Road. “It’s been unusually warm for even the end of September. I love winter and cold weather, but I’m afraid if this keeps up we won’t have much of one.” Boy, you would think she could come up with a better topic than the weather!
Silence.
Okay, maybe she should try a question. “Which do you prefer?” She threw a glance toward Chance.
His brow creased. “Prefer?”
“Cold or hot weather?” Why couldn’t she think of something better to talk about? Next, she would hear him snoring because she’d put him to sleep with her scintillating conversation.
“Cold.”
“Oh, then we have something in common.” The second she’d said the last sentence she’d wanted to take every word back. What she really wanted to talk about was the interview with Nick. But what if Chance hadn’t gotten the job?
She slid another look toward him as she pulled into her driveway. The neutral expression on his face told her nothing of what he was thinking. She decided she couldn’t wait for him to say anything about the interview. “Did Nick hire you?”
“Yes. I start Wednesday.”
“That’s great!” Why wasn’t he more excited?
When she switched off the engine, Chance opened his door and hopped out. Before he had an opportunity to escape upstairs to his apartment, Tanya hurried around the front of the van and took the bag he’d set on the ground.
“I can come back for it,” he said, striding toward the stairs.
She thought about her conversation with her friends at the café and the fact she wanted to get to know him better, not because she was interested in him as a man but because she needed to know more since he was her tenant. Yeah, right, Tanya, she silently scolded herself, knowing in her heart that wasn’t the real reason.
“Nonsense. That’s what neighbors are for—to help,” she hurriedly said as he put half the length of the driveway between them.
She saw him flinch when she’d said neighbors and wondered about his reaction. Somebody had hurt him. A neighbor? When he shifted at the top of the stairs so he could unlock his door, she glimpsed that haunted look again that aroused her compassion and her curiosity.
Chance disappeared inside as Tanya put her foot on the first step. Quickening her pace, she half expected him to return to the landing and take the bag she carried, then bar her from entering his apartment. But when she reached the threshold, she found him across the room. He stood stiffly at the kitchen table, staring at the floor as though a memory had grabbed hold of him and wouldn’t let go. The look that flashed across his face tore at her heart.
A board creaked as she moved inside. His head snapped up, his gaze snaring hers. A shutter descended over his expression, and he turned away and busied himself by emptying his bags.
“Are you all right?” she asked and crossed the large room. His expression earlier had for one brief moment reminded her of Tom’s that first time she had gone to the prison to see him.
Chance stiffened, stopping for a few seconds before resuming his task. “I’m fine.”
Although the words were spoken casually, she knew something she’d said had upset him. “I’m sorry if I—”
He
