if she could make a go of it elsewhere. “You need the housing benefit, too, if you intend to stay here.”
“I—Yes, of course, I need both housing and a job. I’ve made no secret of that. But I don’t want to feel like an informer on people with whom I’m building a relationship. People I’ll be living with under the same roof.” She folded her arms, a reflection of his own stance. “And if you put in a bad word for me with the Selbys, in a small town like this whatever you tell them could get around. Make it difficult for me to find another job.”
He had her now. “It could.”
For a long moment, she dared to glare daggers at him. But when her expression abruptly softened, his gut tightened in uneasy anticipation of her next response.
“The other day you as good as said you didn’t have any viable alternate candidates,” she said smoothly, watching him like a kitten at a mouse hole. “I got the impression I was your last hope.”
She had him there—and had the nerve to smile at that insight. It was true he didn’t know anyone else in town who might be sympathetic enough—and discreet enough—to help him out. Or at least no one who’d be available for childcare duties.
“So where does this leave us?” Tori’s challenging stance eased as she unfolded her arms, apparently assured that she’d played the winning hand.
He had to hand it to her. She had pluck.
While he could be pigheaded here because she refused to cooperate with him across the board, that would be cutting off his nose to spite his face. He needed her in the kids’ household.
He squinted one eye. “A compromise?”
“We both have a horse in this race, don’t we?”
“Guess we do.”
“Bottom line, though, is that, outside of my work at the Outpost, I don’t want to take money from you or to otherwise be obligated to report to you.” She quirked an engaging smile. “So take it or leave it.”
Even to her own ears, that didn’t sound like much of a compromise on her part.
And standing her ground was a risk—a foolhardy one perhaps—given that Sawyer had exercised due diligence before recruiting her. While she could explain the situation to any reasonable person—she and a group of high school friends had staged a protest when an out-of-town developer managed to circumvent local laws and was preparing to raze a historic building—Sawyer was right. The Selbys might not take an arrest lightly.
Nor did it sound as if he’d be interested in hearing her side of the story. Besides, didn’t Grandma always say wrong is wrong, and having a reason for doing it didn’t make it right?
Sawyer’s assessing gaze locked on hers as she held her breath, preparing for another reminder that with a few well-chosen words he could ensure she wouldn’t retain this job—or land any other job in town, for that matter.
But he didn’t respond. At all.
“So,” she said hesitantly as the silence stretched between them. “You’re good with that?”
“It looks as if I’ll have to be, doesn’t it? That is, as long as you alert me to anything significant that could negatively impact my brothers.”
“You have my word on it.”
“And you have mine to keep my mouth shut, as well. Assuming, of course...”
“I said you have my word.”
He nodded. But despite the grudging settlement between them, she held no illusions that he was pleased about this turn of events. Even though they’d only recently become acquainted, it was clear Sawyer Banks wasn’t a man who liked to have his plans thwarted.
Nevertheless, a prayer of thanks winged its way Heavenward. Sawyer didn’t seem to personally hold her teenage infractions against her and had agreed not to share them with the Selbys as long as she kept her part of the bargain.
She wanted this job. How often in the past week had she relived her encounter with the orphaned Cubby and his grandfather at the ice cream shop? Recalled how it had hit too close to home? She wanted to be here for the little guy and his brother. She needed to be here to hold them and hug them when tears flowed. But she had no intention of sharing with Sawyer her impressions of that chance—or divine?—meeting or what convinced her to change her mind about applying for the job.
He wouldn’t understand.
“What did Ray and Therese say—” Sawyer’s gaze probed “—when you told them you’d also be working part-time at the Outpost?”
He hadn’t initially been pleased last week when she insisted that she’d tell them before accepting any job offer. “They were good with it.”
He looked at her doubtfully.
She didn’t attempt to elaborate. Couldn’t, in fact, because there was nothing else to tell except that Therese and Ray had exchanged a look, the significance of which she didn’t understand. Then Ray nodded and thanked her for telling them.
That was it.
So why did Sawyer seem to think they might not be pleased?
“Is there something you’re not telling me about your relationship with the Selbys?”
“What makes you think that?”
“You weren’t thrilled when I told you I was going to be up front with them about plans to work for you, and now you’re doubting me when I told you they didn’t have any problems with it. Obviously, you anticipated they might.”
“What can I say? It’s awkward. You know, their daughter being married to my dad. Me being a half brother to the product of that union. Me being an age most would expect the twins’ father to be. I’m part of the family, yet not really. It’s hard to figure out how I’m supposed to fit into the boys’ lives. Into Therese’s and Ray’s.”
She could see how that connection would be a problematic one, for the Selbys and Sawyer alike. Definitely complex. Maybe that’s all there was to the tension she’d sensed this morning. Nothing more.
Ready to move away from unsettling topics, she nodded to the wad of paper towels in his hand, her nose wrinkling. “Thanks for disposing of that. I hope I won’t need it.”
He laughed. “Naw. I think you’ll be fine.”
“I’ll remind myself of your words if I hear any rustling in the kitchen during the deep dark hours of the night.”
He lifted his hand that held the trap. “Call me. Any hour. Day or night. I’ll be on your doorstep.”
Her cheeks warmed as their gazes met.
“I’d better get going.” He moved toward the door to the hallway. “I have errands to run before I open up shop this morning and I need to let you get to your unpacking.”
“Lots to do.” She motioned to the stacks of boxes. “I guess I’ll talk to you next week, then?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Yeah, it was a plan alright. That is, unless she needed the mousetrap reset after all...
* * *
Sawyer had barely climbed into his crew-cab pickup when his cell phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID, then grimaced. Kyle Guthridge.
“Yo, Sawyer.” His friend’s west Texas drawl echoed in his ear despite the fact the man had lived in Arizona since he was twelve. “Got your phone message that you’ll be late on tomorrow’s payment.”
At least he had the generosity of spirit not to say “again.” Sawyer