She hesitated, but only for a second. Lucas was not only going to be her boss now, one of them, but he was well connected here. He was also her friend, or he had been, years and years ago. She needed a friend in Glory.
“They’ve got great carrot cake,” he teased, one hand on the door, the other reaching for her elbow again.
“Sounds good.”
The interior was dim and cool and bursting with good scents. Homemade soup, fresh-baked goods, spices, peppermint tea, fresh-squeezed orange juice....
They sat in a booth next to the window. A plump woman came from behind the counter to take their orders, then Lucas turned back to Virginia with a devilish grin. She waited, trying hard not to smile herself.
“You aren’t going to believe this, Virginia Lake, but I think I’ve got just the answer for you.”
She toyed with her spoon. “What do you mean?”
“An apartment. I’m moving out of my place and as far as I know, Mrs. Vandenbroek hasn’t rented it yet.”
“You’re moving out?” She added cream to her coffee, which had just arrived, and stirred it.
“Yes. You remember my sister, Theresa?”
“No.” Virginia shook her head and took a sip of the coffee. It was delicious. Her eyes met Lucas’s over her cup.
“Well, she’s a few years older than I am.” Lucas pulled his coffee toward him. “Anyway, she’s got an eight-year-old daughter, Tammy—she’s in grade three this year. Theresa’s shipping her out to live with me for a couple of months, so I’ve bought a house. It’s bigger and closer to the school.”
“Bought a house?”
“It was high time. I’d been thinking about it for a while.”
Virginia frowned. “Why is she sending her daughter to you?”
Lucas sipped his coffee, then set down his mug. “Theresa’s in a patch of trouble. She’s had problems with substance abuse in the past, liquor mostly, and she swears she’s going clean this time. She’s checked into a sweat lodge or some damn thing on Vancouver Island. Something she thinks is going to do the trick for her. Get in touch with her Indian spiritual side, all that stuff.”
“You don’t sound like you believe her,” Virginia said flatly, still frowning.
“Hey, I’ve heard a lot of big dry-out plans from Theresa over the years. She’s been through detox, through different twelve-step programs, you name it. I’ll keep an open mind on the sweat lodge.” He shrugged. “Who knows? It could work for her this time.”
“What about Tammy’s father?” Virginia didn’t know why she asked that question. The whole thing was none of her business.
Lucas paused and their eyes held for a second too long. “He’s not in the picture. Theresa’s never told me anything about him.”
The statement seemed to hover there. The waitress brought their carrot cake just then, and Virginia was glad of the interruption and determined to change the subject.
“I’ll have a look at the apartment. Thanks. Is it close to town?”
“Alder Street. Not far from the office.”
Virginia thrust a fork into her cake. It was very good. She tried to ignore the statement about Tammy’s father, but she couldn’t. Lucas—everyone, the whole town—must be wondering about her son. Who was Robert’s father? Well, she did know that, although sometimes she wished she didn’t.
“The apartment’s not big. Two bedrooms, one fairly small, which I used for a den, a kitchen, one bathroom, a small living room. It’s on the top floor of Mrs. Vandenbroek’s house. There’s a separate entrance. She’s okay. Decent-landlady, not too nosy.”
“Furnished?”
“Yeah. I had some of my own stuff, so she put a few things in the basement. She could rent it completely furnished, I’m sure.”
Virginia didn’t miss the curiosity in Lucas’s dark gaze. He must wonder why she’d want a furnished place, like some oilfield worker moving in with a pair of jeans, two T-shirts and a case of beer for the fridge. The truth was, she hadn’t accumulated much in the past few years. She’d moved too many times to want to burden herself with furniture. Apart from Robert’s toys and their clothes, there wasn’t much to bring down from Stettler. She could easily get it all in her car.
“Shall I tell Mrs. Vandenbroek to hold the place for you?”
Virginia met Lucas’s gaze. “Yes. I...uh, I really appreciate this, Lucas. It makes things a bit easier.” She barely recognized her own voice, low, hesitant, even slightly wobbly.
“Hey.” Lucas covered her hand with his briefly and signaled for the check. “What are friends for?” he asked easily. “Do you want to go over and see it now?”
“No, I’d better get back to see how Robert’s getting on with Mother. Thanks, Lucas.”
Almost as though conscious that things were moving a little too fast—although in which direction Virginia couldn’t have said—Lucas nodded. “I’m going back to the office for a couple of hours. Anything I can do for you?” He held the door open for her as they left the café.
“Not at all. You’ve been very helpful. Very kind.”
He smiled. “I, uh, I guess I’ll see you later.”
Virginia nodded. “Thanks again.”
“I’ll call your folks and leave my landlady’s number with them. You can see the place whenever. You don’t have to wait until I move out.”
“Okay.” She watched him cross the street, then turned and began to walk slowly toward where she’d parked her car.
She was glad he’d left it at that. That he hadn’t made her any offers she’d have had to refuse. Friends. They were thinking along the same lines, at least
CHAPTER FOUR
LUCAS REALIZED he’d been counting the days until Virginia came to town. It was now precisely twenty-two days since he’d spotted her application and eight days since he’d seen her at the christening.
He peered into the fogged-up mirror and drew the razor carefully over his chin. It was Thursday, but he wasn’t going into the office today. He was moving.
He’d better come clean with her right off the bat. No sense letting her go on thinking he’d forgotten everything that had happened twelve years ago. Maybe it meant nothing to her—just another date—but it had meant plenty to him. He’d never forgotten her, not in all that time. His thoughts of taking up where he left off when he’d looked over that application sure hadn’t changed since last week.
She was beautiful now. Of course, she’d always been beautiful to him, even the first time he’d seen her when she was scrawny and maybe eleven or twelve. She’d been up a big sycamore, determined not to let any of the neighborhood boys into her tree house, and was pelting down anything she could lay her hands on—twigs, stuff from the treehouse, one of the other girls’ sneakers. He’d just happened by with his buddy Adam Garrick. They were too old and too cool to get involved—must have been sixteen, at least—but he’d never forgotten it. Spit, vinegar, sass. She’d been on fire with righteous indignation and he’d thought if she was a little older, he’d like to get to know her.
Well, she’s a little older now. He whistled under his breath as he dabbed at the traces of shaving cream on his face and swiped the mist from the mirror with his towel.