Patricia Kay - The Millionaire and the Mum

He found soap and an old but clean towel hanging from a hook next to the sink and cleaned himself up. There was a mirror over the sink, too, so he combed his hair. While standing there, he felt something against his legs and looked down. A large black cat was rubbing against his legs. “Hey, where’d you come from?”

The cat meowed, yellowish-green eyes glowing in the semidarkness of the building.

Jack leaned down and petted the cat, who arched her back and purred. He had never especially liked cats; his father had tended toward dogs—big dogs—but this cat seemed okay. Besides, it was obvious she’d taken a liking to him. It was hard to dislike an animal that liked you, he thought ruefully. She even followed him when he set off toward the house.

“I see you discovered Char,” Beth said when he rejoined her and the children.

“Char?”

She grinned. “Short for Charcoal.”

“She discovered me.”

“Usually when strangers are here, she hides until they leave, plus she’s been really spooked since the storm. She must like you.”

Again he thought how much he liked Beth Johnson’s smile. So far his impression of her and her children was favorable. Whether that would make a difference to his investigation, he didn’t know, but he thought it probably would, because he was a pretty damn good judge of people, and Beth struck him as completely honest.

Returning her smile, he filled his plate, accepted a glass of lemonade, then sat on the top porch step and began to eat.

Beth settled the kids on the old glider that was a holdover from her grandmother’s days, then decided it would be friendlier to join Jack on the steps, even though there were a couple of wooden chairs on the porch that she’d intended for them to use.

“I’ve been looking at your roof,” he said when she was seated. “Did you know you’ve lost some shingles?”

Beth shrugged. “No. There are so many more immediate serious things wrong around here that I hadn’t looked at the roof yet.”

He nodded. “I can probably replace those shingles for you, and maybe later you can show me what else needs doing.”

“Why don’t we wait until tomorrow? It’s probably going to take you the rest of the afternoon to dispose of that tree, don’t you think?”

“Probably.”

“Okay, then. Tomorrow morning we’ll look at everything else.”

For a while, they ate in silence, but Beth was acutely aware of his presence beside her. She was very curious about him, yet strangely reluctant to ask questions lest he think her interest something more than normal curiosity.

When they had finished their meal, she got up and went into the kitchen where she fixed a plate of cookies from a batch she’d baked a couple of days before.

“They’re peanut butter,” she said apologetically when she offered the plate to Jack.

“Peanut butter cookies are my favorite.”

“Really? Did your mother used to bake them when you were young?”

For just a moment, something resembling pain flashed in his eyes, but it was quickly masked. “My mother left home when I was six,” he said offhandedly.

Beth wasn’t fooled by his attempt to be casual. Tenderhearted, she was immediately sympathetic. How awful to lose your mother when you were little more than Amy’s age! And he hadn’t said she’d died, he’d said she’d left home. Had she willfully abandoned him? Is that what he was saying? She was tempted to put voice to her questions, but thought better of it. Jack Stokes didn’t seem like the kind of man who would share confidences easily, and certainly not with someone he barely knew. Mind your own business, she told herself.

But she was still wondering about him later that afternoon as she prepared supper. He was back working at the sweet gum tree. She could hear the intermittent whine of the chain saw as he cut the trunk and branches into pieces small enough to easily move.

Walking to the sink, she peered out the window. He sure didn’t look like a man down on his luck, she thought again, yet what other reason could he have for offering to work for room and board? It wasn’t as if Beth had anything else he might want.

She took an onion out of the wire bin hanging over the sink and, laying it on her cutting board, peeled it, then cut it into hunks. Using the food chopper her best friend Dee Ann had given her, she minced the onion, then added it to the ground meat mixture she was preparing to turn into meat loaf.

Still thinking about Jack, she rooted around in her spice cupboard for the bottle of Worcestershire sauce she was sure she had. Finding it, she sprinkled some over the meat mixture.

Could he be running from the law? Somehow he just didn’t seem like the type. Besides, if he was, Rose Hill wasn’t the kind of place he’d go. People running from the law usually tried to lose themselves in big cities where you could be anonymous. In little towns like Rose Hill, everybody knew everybody else’s business. Beth would be willing to bet just about every one of the nearly three hundred souls who called Rose Hill home knew that a man in a red pickup truck had been hired to work out on the Johnson place. And in a day or two, they’d probably know the terms of his hiring, too. There were no secrets here.

Maybe she’d been crazy to hire him. And yet, there was something so solid and reassuring about him.

She added two eggs and bread crumbs to the meat, then washed her hands and dried them carefully. Once she was sure they were clean, she stuck them into the bowl and mixed everything by hand until all the ingredients were well blended. There was something very satisfying about mixing meat loaf by hand, she thought, remembering how her grandmother had done it the same way.

“Mama, I’m hungry.”

Glancing around, Beth smiled at Amy, who had walked into the kitchen. “Supper won’t be ready for a while, but you can have a banana or an apple if you want.”

“Okay.” Amy walked over to the table and reached into the bowl sitting in the center. Inside were two bananas and one apple. She took a banana out and began to peel it.

Beth shaped the meat mixture into a loaf. Once it was a neat oval, she placed it in the pan she’d prepared earlier. The oven was already preheated, so she stuck the meat loaf inside and turned her attention to the potatoes that needed to be peeled.

While the meat loaf baked and she prepared the mashed potatoes, green beans, and butterscotch pudding that would round out the meal, her thoughts returned to the man outside.

Maybe she was crazy for hiring him, but right now she really didn’t care. It was comforting to have a strong, masculine body on the property, someone who could do the things she couldn’t do herself, so no matter what he might be hiding, she wasn’t going to look this gift horse in the mouth.

“S upper’s ready!

Jack looked up and saw Beth standing on the porch. The late afternoon sun had turned her hair into a fiery crown of red and gold. “Be there in a minute.” He glanced down at his watch and saw it was almost six. He couldn’t believe how fast the afternoon had flown by. He still wasn’t finished hauling off the remains of the sweet gum tree, but he only had about an hour of work left. He should be able to finish after supper, though, if there was enough light. If not, he would come early in the morning and get it done.

Since he was finished cutting the wood, he picked up the chain saw and carried it over to the barn, replacing it where he’d found it. Then he washed up and headed for the house.

The kitchen was unlike any he’d seen before. Certainly it bore no resemblance to the massive kitchen in the Stockwell mansion, which contained the very latest stainless steel appliances and every modern kitchen contraption known to man.

This kitchen was big and square, with lots of light, but, with the exception of a fairly new looking stove, there was nothing modern about it. The top cupboards had glass-paned doors and the wood, chipped in places, was painted white. An ancient refrigerator—so old that it did not have a separate freezer compartment—stood in one corner. A quick glance revealed no dishwasher, and Jack would be willing to bet there was probably no disposal, either. The floor tile, worn and weary looking, had obviously seen better days. In the center of the room was an oval maple table surrounded by six chairs. It, too, looked ancient, its top scarred and deeply grooved from use.

Despite all this, the room was cheerful. Yellow-and-white-checked curtains on the windows, yellow paint on the walls, bright red cushions on the chairs and a red-and-yellow-flowered pillow on the maple rocking chair in the corner, along with several vases of roses and a couple of healthy-looking ferns in pots, combined to make the kitchen homey and welcoming.

The place smelled great, too, and made Jack’s mouth water.

“Have a seat,” Beth said with a friendly smile. Her face was flushed from cooking, which made her look even prettier than she had before. She placed a jug of iced tea on the table. The windows were open and, although there was a breeze, the room was warm. Jack wondered if the place was air-conditioned. He couldn’t imagine how Beth and her kids could survive the area’s sizzling hot summers if it wasn’t.

“I’m sorry it’s so warm in here,” she said, almost as if she’d read his mind. “I’m not running the air conditioner because the compressor is making a funny noise.” She made a face.

Damn, he thought. How many things could go wrong at once? “If you want me to, I can take a look at it after supper.”

Her eyes brightened. “Would you?”

“Sure.” Maybe the unit just needed cleaning.

Matthew and Amy were already seated on opposite sides of the table, an empty chair between them. Jack sat next to Matthew, who beamed. Beth took the chair between the two children.

“Amy, it’s your turn to say grace,” Beth said.

Startled, Jack bowed his head along with the other three.

“Thank you, Lord, for our food,” Amy said in her sweet, little-girl voice. “And for all the blessings you give us every day.”

“And thank you, Lord, for keeping Amy safe today,” Beth added. “And for sending us some much-needed help.”

“Amen,” said Amy.

“Amen,” said Beth and Matthew.

An unfamiliar emotion swept Jack. He couldn’t have put a name to it. He only knew something in the simple words and their obvious sincerity had touched him deeply. He thought back, trying to remember if grace had ever been said in his home. He couldn’t think of a single instance, not even on Thanksgiving. Of course, he hadn’t had that many meals with his family, since his father had shipped him off to boarding school the year after his mother had supposedly drowned, and then to military school. Even during the summers, he was often away at camp or anywhere else Caine could think to send him. But even so, the times he had been home had been enough to show him his father cared nothing for religion, unless you counted the worship of money and power.

“Jack, do you want to start the meat loaf?”

Beth’s question drew his attention back to the meal, and Jack shook off the remembrance of his lonely boyhood. He picked up the platter of meat loaf, helped himself, then passed it on.

As they ate, several things struck him. Although Jack hadn’t been around many children and so didn’t have much with which to compare them, he felt the Johnson kids were remarkably well behaved. They didn’t argue and they didn’t complain about the food. They ate enthusiastically, and when their mother spoke to them, they answered politely.