Sugar Pine Trail. RaeAnne ThayneЧитать онлайн книгу.
evidence indicated the woman wasn’t home.
He had made two trips to California that day, transporting Caine Tech employees who had family there home for Thanksgiving. The last one had been through a vicious storm.
Okay, he wanted a shower and a beer, maybe, and his nice, warm bed.
He knocked one more time, though he already knew it was futile. Inside, he could hear a couple of cats meowing at him, but no approaching footsteps.
She wasn’t home, which meant he wouldn’t have hot water.
Okay. No hot shower. He could either suck it up and have a cold one or heat up some water in the microwave so he could at least wash up.
He had been deployed to the Middle East twice. He had survived much worse conditions.
He turned away from the door and was about to head up the stairs to his apartment when he noticed headlights pulling into the driveway and into the detached garage on the property.
A moment later, the front door opened, and Julia Winston walked in, moving slowly, as if her bones weighed more than she could support. Something was wrong. He wasn’t sure how he could be so confident when he barely knew the woman, but he knew it at a glance.
Surprise flickered in those hauntingly lovely eyes when she spotted him. He saw a quick flash of something that looked suspiciously like dismay.
Was she thinking about the night before, about those heated few moments?
You’re so nice. That’s why all the girls like you so much.
He had been thinking about her all day. He had done his best to push those thoughts away, but it hadn’t worked very well.
At random moments, he would remember those beautiful eyes of hers and the tousled bedroom hair and the way her tongue had darted out to lick at her plump bottom lip.
Now those same lips tightened. “Oh. Hello. I’m sorry. You’re looking for me. Have you been waiting long?”
“A few minutes.”
He immediately wanted to demand she tell him what had upset her but that would probably sound ridiculous.
“I was...held up after work. Did you need something?”
Yes. For you to tell me what’s wrong. He couldn’t say that, of course.
His real reason for knocking on her door seemed silly, and suddenly he didn’t want to burden her with one more thing. It was obvious she had greater worries than his hot water—or, more specifically, the lack thereof.
Without telling her the truth, though, he couldn’t think of a good excuse for standing outside her door.
He sighed. “It’s not a big deal, and I hate to bother you with it. I don’t have any hot water. I was heading into the shower and ran it for about ten minutes, and the temperature seemed to only get colder.”
“Oh.” She looked totally defeated, as if all color and light had leached away from her world.
“I’m sure it’s something simple. Do you mind if I take a look at your water heater? I might be able to figure it out.”
“I...no. Of course not.”
“Is it inside your apartment or...” He let his voice trail off.
“Oh. Yes. You want to go inside.” She unlocked the door and pushed it open. “I’m sorry. It’s been a...long day.”
She unlocked the door and pushed it open. Immediately, a trio of cats rushed past her to greet Jamie.
She didn’t blink at that, as if their defection was all she deserved.
Inside her house, he had the same impression as the other night, one of fussy tidiness. Some instinct told him the decor on this floor of the house wasn’t the real her, that she was only maintaining the antiques and collectibles out of obligation. She would fit much better among the delicate, feminine furnishings upstairs.
Saying nothing, she led him through the living area to her kitchen, where she opened a door and flipped on a light. Stone steps led the way down to a large stone basement that had likely once been the root cellar of the house. Now, as Julia led the way down the stairs, he discovered a furnace and water heater that both looked new.
He looked around the space. “This is quite a cellar.”
“I know. I hated coming down here when I was a girl. I’m still not that crazy about it, if you want the truth. I avoid it as much as possible.”
As soon as she spoke the words, she looked as if she wanted to take them back, as if she hated revealing a weakness about herself.
He wanted to tell her he found it charming. It also made him wonder what she had been like as a little girl, all gorgeous, serious eyes and long, dark braids. He didn’t know how he knew she had braids, but he could picture them, clear as day.
“The water heater shouldn’t be having trouble. It’s brand-new and still under warranty,” she said. “I had it installed when the furnace went out this fall.”
“Let me just take a look.”
He didn’t know much about water heaters, but he figured if he could fix some of the tricky mechanical problems of his airplanes, he should be able to figure this out.
He tinkered for a moment and quickly realized the pilot light had gone out on the water heater.
After trying the regulator on the pilot a few times with no success, he sought an alternative.
“Got a match?” he asked.
“Not on me,” she answered with a rueful look. “But my father always kept some down here to light the pilot on our old furnace.”
She went to a shelf along the wall that still held dusty preserves. After rooting around a moment, she pulled out a box of long matches. “I can’t guarantee they’ll still light,” she said. “My dad’s been gone three years now.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. His pop was still going strong. Jamie hated thinking of a world that didn’t have Dermot Caine in it.
“Thank you. He was a good man, even toward the end. Some people with Alzheimer’s get mean, but my father was always the sweetest, most gentle man.”
Alzheimer’s. That was tough. He knew how heartbreaking that damn disease could be.
Her mother had recently died, he remembered. Eliza had mentioned her mother had spent her last few months in a nursing home after a series of strokes, which meant she had been through more than her share. Eliza had also told him Julia was an only child. That must have been a heavy load to carry alone.
He couldn’t fix that for her, but at least could get the hot water going again. Turning his attention to the task at hand, Jamie adjusted the gas to the pilot light and quickly lit a match to it. The light ignited with a whoosh that made her gasp a little and step back.
When it appeared the water heater was working correctly, Jamie stood up. “That should do it. My shower should be hot in no time.”
“If you have more trouble, let me know, and I’ll call the company in Shelter Springs that installed it.”
“You got it.”
“Thank you for fixing it. I wouldn’t have known the first thing to do.”
“I didn’t do anything except check the pilot light,” he said.
“My mother always called a neighbor every time something went wrong. I’m trying to be a little more...independent. Obviously I have a long way to go.”
She mustered a smile, but her eyes still looked haunted. Something was wrong, he thought again. He had a feeling it had nothing to do with her parents.
“There’s nothing to lighting a pilot light. See that regulator valve?