New Year to you, too,” he said when they broke apart. “Are you hungry?”
“Hmm, I don’t know. This is nice.” Her stomach growled, and she giggled. “I guess that ruined the mood.”
“Right this way, m’lady.”
“What’s this?” She shifted her gaze from the table set with his best china and back to Matt.
“Just setting the mood,” he replied. “You look great, as usual.”
And she did, in boots and black leggings and a short, hunter-green dress that brought out the green in her hazel eyes.
“You’re not so bad yourself.” She stroked the red cashmere sweater he wore, a Christmas gift from her. “So, what have you made me?”
He pulled out her chair. “Eggs Benedict—I just have to cook the eggs, but we’ll start off with fruit, and caramel coffee.”
An hour later, Matt refreshed their cups. Everything had gone off without a hitch, even the eggs. Jessica smiled.
“Thank you, Matthew. I don’t know when I’ve ever had a better New Year’s celebration. Last night and now this morning.”
His heart thumped faster as he looked into her eyes. The velvet box was in his pocket, waiting for him to bring out at the right moment. He took her hand. “Jessica, we’ve talked about marriage before, and you know how much I—”
A yowl from his bedroom made him flinch.
“What was that?” She looked over his shoulder toward the bedroom.
The kitten. Not mewing, but sounding exactly like it had in the parking lot. Loud. Pitiful. It was a noise that could not be ignored. “Uh...”
“Matthew, do I hear a cat?” She cocked her head. “It is. But...but you know I’m allergic.”
“I know. It’s a kitten, and I thought I ran over it. You stay here while I go check—”
The doorbell rang, and rang again. And again.
“I’ll get the door.” Jessica pointed toward the bedroom. “You see about that poor kitty.”
The kitten howled again, and Matt huffed a sigh. It probably needed milk again, and he grabbed the carton. “Be right back. Entertain whoever it is.”
The kitten stared plaintively at him when he opened the door and immediately hushed its crying. He picked up the bowl and refilled it. Voices came from the other room. Women’s voices. Matt placed the bowl beside the kitten and guided it to the milk. “You’re on your own, kiddo,” he said and went to wash his hands.
Then he stepped into the living room and stopped. “Allie?”
Jessica’s gaze went from Allie to him. “You didn’t tell me Clint’s sister was stopping by.”
Something was wrong. Bad wrong. It was stamped in the way Allie stood, in the slump of her shoulders, in her face. “What’s going on?”
“Matt, I don’t know how to tell you... Mariah is in the hospital. Your sister may not make it. And her son has run away from the shelter.”
He didn’t know why he felt so surprised.
“Sister?” Jessica turned to him. “You never said anything about a sister.”
“Everybody, just sit down.” He sank into the hard leather chair closest to him and looked at Allie. “What happened?”
“I’m not sure. All I know is she overdosed on heroin and her little boy has run away from the person who was looking after him temporarily,” Allie said. “You’ll have to ask Peter Elliott exactly what happened.”
He missed whatever she said next. Peter Elliott? He was taken aback the great man hadn’t already called to rub Matt’s nose in the news. Mariah. What have you done? His sister might be two years older, but he’d always taken care of her until she ran off with that Connors thug. He realized Allie had asked him something. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
“I have the hospital number, if you want it.” She held a slip of paper out toward him.
Matt folded his arms across his chest. “I don’t know what you expect me to do. I tried to talk to Mariah when she first started using—after Connors introduced her to drugs. She didn’t listen then, and I doubt that anything has changed. I’m sorry, but she made her choice a long time ago.”
And he had made his when he left Cedar Grove. He just never thought his past would choose today to catch up with him.
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