“I have a very small orchard.” Hannah waved a hand at a dozen trees, limbs bright with new green leaves, in a clearing farther down the drive. “The trees have bloomed and tiny apples are already starting to grow. We’ll have to do some composting down there, too. I also have several walnut trees at the end of the drive. They’re big and old and pretty much take care of themselves.”
“That’s a relief,” Evan quipped.
“Oh, it is,” Hannah agreed.
Again Evan couldn’t help but be taken aback by the sheer amount of physical labor necessary just to prepare for the growing season. He didn’t want to even think about what must be involved in maintenance once the plants had been set in the beds, because that would also entail thinking about Hannah either having to look for help again or having to do it all alone.
Tramping along with her in the mist, breathing in the clear, cold air, the dancing waters of the creek providing background music, Evan told himself that he was there only to confirm Will’s safety in his mother’s care. Yet he couldn’t deny that an odd sense of peace had settled over him.
Years had passed since he’d last spent time enjoying the sights, sounds and smells of the natural world. Cooped up in his office, a rented room or a vehicle, and tied to electronic tools of his trade, his experience of the great outdoors had consisted mainly of viewing it from a window. But that was about to change—at least for a week—and he was looking forward to it with a surprising edge of anticipation.
Leaving Will on the porch to towel off Nellie—a task both boy and dog appeared to enjoy—Hannah and Evan took a moment to dry the soles of their boots on the mat, then headed into the house. At Hannah’s invitation, Evan hung his jacket on one of the pegs next to hers, followed her across the living room and up the steep, narrow, creaking flight of wooden steps that led to the second floor of the house.
At the top of the staircase a short hall led to a doorway that opened into a long, spacious room built under the eaves of the slanting roof. One end held a bed piled with pillows in white, lace-edged cases and covered with a patchwork quilt done in muted shades of blue and rose and green. A nightstand beside the bed held a brass lamp and there was also a small dresser with a mirror against the far wall.
At the opposite end of the room sat a chair and ottoman upholstered in blue-and-white striped fabric. A row of built-in bookcases full of books lined part of the wall, and there was also a small rolltop desk and an expensive-looking, black leather desk chair, out of place enough for Evan to conclude that it must have belonged to Hannah’s husband.
On the polished wood floor were a couple of blue-and-green rag rugs. Banks of wide windows—sans blinds or curtains of any kind—were set shoulder-high in the three outside walls, as well. They not only let in the meager light of the gray day, but also framed views of the woodland treetops that seemed closer when seen from this snug and tranquil aerie.
“The bathroom is over there,” Hannah said, nodding toward a doorway that opened into a small, separate area that held a pedestal-style sink, a toilet and a narrow shower stall.
“It’s very nice,” Evan said with honest appreciation.
“Private, too. You can come up here anytime you want and no one will disturb you,” Hannah advised. “You should be fairly comfortable….”
“I’m sure I’ll be very comfortable,” Evan assured her.
“So…are you still interested?” she asked as she turned to leave the room.
“Yes, I am. I can plan to be here first thing tomorrow morning, if you want to hire me.”
“I’m very interested. I’ll have to check your references, of course—you understand—but why don’t you plan to be here tomorrow morning around eight o’clock?” She paused by the door to the porch, took his jacket from the peg and held it out to him. “I’ll call you at the hotel if there’s a problem.”
“Eight it is, unless I hear from you otherwise,” Evan agreed.
He had given her the name and telephone number of the motel where he was staying when he’d talked to her earlier. As he put on his jacket and prepared to leave, he wondered if she would call there later that evening to tell him not to come back.
Evan doubted it, considering how much help she needed with her gardens. Everyone on his list of references would cover for him, as well. While all were valid friends and business associates, they had been advised in advance of who Hannah James was and why she might be calling them. Still, the fact that she wanted to check him out more thoroughly rather than blindly inviting him to stay in her home only fed his doubts about Randall’s claims.
“Be careful on the drive back to Boone,” she said, opening the door for him.
“I will.”
On the porch, Will was playing tug with Nellie. The dog had one end of the soggy towel gripped in her teeth and was growling playfully, her tail wagging a mile a minute.
“I’m just about done, Mommy,” the boy said, then shrieked as Nellie pulled the towel out of his hands and took off around the side of the porch. “Come back, Nellie, come back!”
“Looks like I’d better get another towel…or two,” Hannah said with a rueful grin, adding to Evan as he walked down the porch steps, “See you tomorrow, then?”
“Unless I hear otherwise,” he confirmed, then climbed into the Jeep, fit his key in the ignition and started the engine as Hannah reached through the open doorway, grabbed her jacket and went off after boy and dog.
Evan didn’t relish the long journey back to Boone on rain-slick, winding mountain roads. But in a strange way he needed to put some distance between himself and Hannah, physically as well as mentally.
Nothing about her appearance or her manner had been intentionally alluring—not that he could deny finding her that way. Nor had he seen any reason to be concerned about leaving her alone with her son. Yet he didn’t want to leave her, and perversely enough that lack of want made the need even more imperative.
Hannah James had put him at ease with her gentleness and her warmth, her consideration and concern. She had seemed so genuine, so open and so honest that as he guided the Jeep down the gravel drive, fighting an urge to glance in the rearview mirror, the pangs of conscience he’d suffered earlier hit him again at a deeper, more visceral level.
Evan could justify going ahead with his deception, lying to her for Will’s sake for a while longer. But he knew he’d be lying to himself if he said that he was only going back there because of the boy. The real draw was Hannah James, herself.
And there was no place in this assignment for that kind of fascination.
Considering all the lies he had already told her, the only way he could spend time with her was to sign on as hired help. He could stay a day, a week, a month, but eventually he would have only two choices—he could abandon her knowing full well how much she needed help, or he could tell her the truth about himself and reveal just how seriously he’d betrayed her trust. Lying to people was a given in his line of work. He had done it before and he would do it again, especially to protect a child. But lying to Hannah James didn’t sit easy with him.
From what he knew of her now, he believed she deserved better than that from him. But the only real alternative he had was never going back to her house at all. And that, Evan Graham acknowledged as he turned onto the main road back to Boone, he simply couldn’t do.
Chapter Three
Hannah set another tray of peat pots filled with seedlings in the sheltered area on the wood deck that she used for the first stage of hardening off the little plants. Straightening, she tipped her face to the sun, squared her shoulders and stretched to relieve the slight kink in her lower back. The pause also gave her time to realize that she was hungry.
Will