times had she said that to her son? It seemed like thousands. He had such a vivid imagination.
“I figured maybe he was lonely, too,’ cause nobody looks at him once they notice his hand. They kinda pretend he’s not there. And I saw him getting mail one day for apartment 372. He was reading his mail, so he didn’t see me.”
“So he is our downstairs neighbor.”
“Yeah. One day I was bored and there were some weird shadows on the wall that made me think of monsters and stuff, so I started tapping out a code on the kitchen floor with a hammer. You know, so somebody would know if the shadows got me.”
“Sally would know, wouldn’t she? Didn’t she object to you pounding on the floor with a hammer?”
“I wasn’t pounding, I was tapping.”
“Jake,” she warned. “What did Sally say?”
“Um, she didn’t say anything.” Jake looked at the ceiling, the floor and everywhere in between.
She gently grasped his chin. “Out with it.”
And the whole story came pouring out. Sally’d had a scheduling conflict this week with her mother’s dialysis and Jake had been afraid she might get fired. So he’d decided to soldier on and stay home alone until Katy or her mother got there.
KATY COULD HAVE SMACKED her forehead. Why hadn’t she seen through his ploy? Because she’d been too preoccupied making a living. And in total denial that her child-care provisions were contingent on everything going as planned.
She grasped Jake’s hand and rose. “You are so grounded. But right now, we have an apology to make.”
Royce set the bottle of vodka on the table, along with a glass. His foot throbbed, his left hand itched and his pride screamed for oblivion. Foregoing the glass, he removed the cap and drank straight from the bottle. His throat burned. If he closed his eyes for a moment, the sharp taste of vodka would almost convince him he was back in Russia and none of this had happened. Convince him he was whole again.
But if he kept them closed, he’d start to see the horror and fear on the redhead’s face.
A tear trickled down his face. Becca had been right. He didn’t have any business living alone and pretending he could lead a normal life. Who’d he been fooling, trying to act as if the explosion hadn’t been a big deal? It was the elephant in the corner and the redhead had seen it with searing clarity.
He pushed away the bottle, cradling his head in his hand. No amount of alcohol was going to fix the mess his life had become.
There was a knock at his door, but he ignored it.
Another knock, more insistent this time.
Then a female voice. “Um, Mister, if you’re in there I owe you a huge apology. I didn’t realize you and my son had struck up a…friendship. Not that I approve of Jake having friendships with adults I don’t know, but, well, I just wanted to say I’m sorry. Hope I didn’t hurt your foot.”
“My mom didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, either. She was just surprised is all.” The boy’s voice cut cleanly through the door, straight into Royce’s soul. The kid seemed to understand that Royce’s heart hurt much more than his bruised foot.
Almost against his will, Royce stood and walked over to the door.
Another knock. The boy’s voice again. “Mister, we’re not gonna leave till we know you’re okay.”
Slowly, Royce opened the door.
CHAPTER THREE
KATY CONCENTRATED on the man’s deep- brown eyes, where pain and a hint of anger lurked. It kept her from staring at his arm.
“I’m Katy Garner and this is my son, Jake. I’m very sorry for, um, stomping on your foot and being…rude.”
His eyes narrowed, as if he had another word for her behavior. But he didn’t say it. Instead, he crossed his arms and leaned on the doorjamb.
“Royce McIntyre. Apology accepted.”
Katy hesitated. What now? He’d accepted her apology. But what about the pain she’d caused? Could she really erase it with an apology?”
“Thanks for the Rice Krispies Treats,” Jake said. “They were really good.”
“No problem.”
Jake grinned his big, toothy grin. “You’re the first adult who’s ever gotten my message.”
The man shrugged. “Simple Morse code.”
“Yeah, but nobody else seems to get it.”
Katy interrupted their mutual appreciation. “I guess I overreacted when you shoved your foot in the door. There’ve been some break-ins in the area lately. I’m still a little uncomfortable with the way you met my son. Jake isn’t normally allowed to talk to strangers.”
“Hey, he’s the one who initiated contact. And how could I know for sure he was a kid?”
“Ask?”
He opened his mouth, then shut it. Shrugging, there was a hint of humor in his eyes. “I guess there’s that. I’m not very up on approaching kids, which should come as a great relief to you. Now that you mention it, I see your point about caution.” His eyes narrowed. “And yet you allow him to be home alone?”
Katy swallowed hard at the thought of Jake being alone and all the things that could have happened. They’d been fortunate that Royce McIntyre, on second inspection, seemed fairly decent.
Blinking back her frustration, Katy longed for the good old days when situations like this hadn’t been a problem. The days when her friend, Karen, had lived across the hall and could pinch-hit during emergencies. But Karen had moved in with her boyfriend across town, leaving a void not easily filled, both as a friend and a backup system.
“We had a communication problem with the sitter and he was alone part of the afternoon this week. I assure you it won’t happen again. Thank you for, um, entertaining him.”
“Turns out I needed to be entertained, too.” He pushed away from the jamb and extended his right hand. “Thanks, Jake. You really had me going.”
Jake shook his hand, his eyes as big as silver dollars when they traveled to his left arm. “Were you hurt in the war?”
The man stiffened. “No. A mining accident.”
“Jake, that’s not a nice thing to ask.” Katy’s face warmed. As if the man needed to be reminded of what had to be a traumatic event. From the looks of the tender, pink skin at his wrist, it had been recent trauma. “I’m sorry if he put you on the spot. And I’m sorry I wasn’t…more welcoming.”
“He has an honest curiosity. Nothing wrong with that. It’s better than being ignored…or worse.”
Like being stomped on and having the door slammed in his face.
There had to be a way to make this better. To somehow undo the hurt she’d caused. Katy shifted, uncomfortable with the solution that came to mind. “Do you like cheese enchiladas?”
He hesitated.
“It’s not a trick question. A simple yes or no will do.”
His lips twitched. “Yeah, I do.”
“Good. I’m making a batch and there’s way too much for just two people. I can bring down a…”
The wariness was back in his eyes. As if he thought she was too uncomfortable with his injury to sit across a dinner table from him. How could she tell the man it had nothing to do with him?
“It’s okay. I’m good.” He started to close the door.
Katy took a deep breath. She had to get past this. If not