“Would you?” Laurel stood back. “It’s jammed,” she explained.
“Yeah, I see that.” Kyle hid his grin as he eased past Sara. He pulled over an office chair and sank onto it, bending to examine the innards of the machine. With painstaking slowness he eased bits and pieces of paper free. After a moment of watching him, Sara brought a trash can so he could throw out the scraps. “Thanks.”
She didn’t smile, simply nodded. But those gray-silver eyes of hers followed every move he made between quick glances at the monitor. Since it was filled with an error message, Kyle couldn’t figure out what was so captivating. He refocused on the printer, removing the ink cartridge and resetting it after he’d lifted out the last shredded bit of paper.
“She has quite a stack of paper here. Do you suppose she’s printing a book?” he teased, winking at Sara.
“Sort of.” Sara picked up one of the printed sheets and read it. “It looks like a list of rules and procedures at Lives Under Construction. Is there one for each boy?” she asked Laurel.
“Yes. I was hoping to have them done before the boys get here.”
“Don’t worry.” Sara reached out and squeezed her fingers. Kyle noticed a smile flit across her lips. “I’m sure Kyle can do something. Can’t you?” She looked at him with a beseeching gaze that made him want to fix this fast. Why was that?
“It’s a good printer,” he told them. “But it’s touchy about loading in a lot of paper.”
“I think I know what that means. You’re not supposed to print more than a certain number of sheets at a time and then refill. Right?” She raised her eyebrows, waiting for Kyle’s agreement.
“Yes. That would be a good idea. But for now this thing needs a new part before it will work again.” He stood too quickly and clasped the corner of the desk to balance. A millisecond later Sara’s hand was on his elbow, steadying him.
There it was again, that lightning-bolt reaction to Sara’s touch. Kyle eased out of her grasp as fast as he could without looking rude.
“I suppose a new part will take forever to get here and cost the earth.” Laurel sighed.
“Not necessarily. My dad used to have a printer like this.” Kyle smiled at the memory. “Dad was a pack rat. I’m pretty sure the old printer is still in a closet somewhere. I could see if it’s still there and strip the part for you, if you want.” He didn’t look at Sara. The flare from her touch still lingered on his skin.
“But you’ve just come home,” Laurel said. “I’m sure you’re tired.”
“I’m fine.” Not quite true but Kyle wasn’t going to tell her that.
Laurel glanced once at the printer, her longing obvious. “Look, Kyle. I appreciate it, but—”
“Laurel, let him try,” Sara urged.
“She’s right,” Kyle agreed, surprised by Sara’s mothering tone. “Let me take a look at home first. If I can’t find anything, then you’ll have a better idea of your next step.”
“See? That makes sense.” Sara grinned at him as if they shared a secret and when she did, his heart began to gallop.
Kyle tried to ignore the effect this stranger was having on him.
“You’re right. Thank you, Kyle.” Laurel stepped forward and hugged him. “You are a godsend.”
“I doubt that.” He glanced toward the kitchen. “Do you mind if we finish our coffee before we leave? I haven’t had coffee that good since I left home.”
“That’s Sara. She can make anything taste wonderful.” Laurel led the way to the kitchen.
Kyle stood back but Sara, her cheeks now pink, motioned for him to precede her. Once he was seated, she poured fresh coffee. Then she sat with folded hands, listening intently as he and Laurel chatted, though she never offered her own opinion. Very aware of the way Sara kept glancing toward the office, Kyle figured she must be impatient to check her email so he finished his coffee quickly, almost scalding his tongue.
It was time to go home. Time to stop avoiding the truth.
Back in Laurel’s car, Sara again sat in the rear seat but this time she leaned forward to listen as Kyle described Churchill’s landmarks. Ten minutes later they arrived at his father’s house.
“I’m sure you’d like a few moments alone,” Laurel said. “I have some things to do downtown. We’ll come back in half an hour. Will that give you enough time, Kyle?”
A lifetime wouldn’t be enough to reconcile losing his father but all he said was “Yes. Thanks.” He climbed out awkwardly.
In a flash, Sara exited the car and lugged his bag to the door.
“Will you truly be all right?” she asked, her somber gaze holding his.
“I’ll be fine.” He wanted to be upset at her for lugging his suitcase out, but her compassion was genuine so he forced himself to smile. “I’m used to managing.”
“Okay.” She opened her mouth to say something more, but apparently thought better of it because she turned around and climbed back into Laurel’s car without another word.
Kyle waited until the battered SUV rumbled away. Then he faced the house.
Home. He was finally home.
He squeezed his eyes closed against the loss that burned inside.
Why didn’t You take me instead? he asked God. I’m useless, but Dad wasn’t. He was needed around here. What am I supposed to do now?
Kyle stood there, waiting. But no answer came.
He was all alone. He’d better get used to it.
* * *
He was strong, he was knowledgeable and he was kind enough to help when asked. But Kyle Loness made Sara daydream and she couldn’t afford that.
Because of Maria.
“Sara? Are you awake?” Laurel shifted the van into Park then turned to frown at her. “Oh, you are awake.”
“Yes.” Sara shoved away thoughts of Kyle.
“Well, I’m going to be about fifteen minutes. Then we’ll pick up a few groceries before we go back to Kyle’s. Do you want to wait for me in the car?” she asked as she climbed out.
“No.” Sara followed her onto the sidewalk. “I’d rather walk a bit. I need to stretch my legs.”
“Okay. Stick to the main street. I remember your skewed sense of direction,” Laurel teased. “Don’t get lost on your first day in Churchill.”
“I’m better at direction now than I was.” Sara blushed, embarrassed by the reminder of her first faux pas after she’d left foster care. “I won’t get lost.”
She waited until Laurel had entered the building before heading toward Kyle’s house.
The thing was, no matter how Sara tried, she couldn’t seem to forget about him, and not just because he was so good-looking. Good-looking? Her brain scoffed. Kyle Loness was heartbreakingly handsome. Tall and muscular, the faint shadow of a beard defined the sharp jut of his jaw. Sara supposed he grew it to hide the scar that ran from the outside corner of his eye straight down past his jawbone, which, in her opinion, did nothing to diminish his good looks. And when he’d looked at her with his cornflower-blue eyes, a funny little shiver wiggled inside her, just like the heroines in the romantic novels she loved. How silly was that?
But it wasn’t only his good looks that drew her. The image of Kyle working on