“I’d like that very much,” Travis said as he suppressed a yawn. “Sorry, but it’s been a very long day. I meant to be here this afternoon so I could talk to my mother right away. But my father had something he wanted
me to do, so I got a late start.”
Kim turned around and put her bare feet on the floor. “Have you eaten? And where are you staying?”
“Unless Edilean has a hotel and a restaurant open past—what is it now? Nine-thirty?—I’ll be going into Williamsburg.”
Kim decided not to think too hard before she spoke. “I have a guesthouse and a refrigerator full of food. It’s really just a tiny pool house that the previous owners made into a place for their son to stay when he visited. When I bought the house, my brother, Reede, said he would move in there, but it’s too small for him. He took over Colin’s—he’s the sheriff—old apartment, but he hates that too. Reede does, not Colin, although Colin hated the apartment too.”
She stopped before she made a complete fool of herself.
“I would be honored to accept,” Travis said softly. “As for dinner, I’d take you out, but . . .”
“The old cliché: We roll up our sidewalks at nine.”
“When did you get sidewalks?”
“I am wounded!” Kim said. “We’ve had sidewalks for three years now. Next year we’re getting electric streetlamps.”
“I bet the lamplighter is crying over the loss of his job,” Travis said.
“We married him off to the cobbler’s daughter, so they’re happy.”
They laughed together.
Three
As she drove home, Kim marveled at the fact that Travis had returned. She kept checking the rearview mirror to make sure she hadn’t lost him. He was driving an old BMW that didn’t even have an automatic transmission. Maybe she could teach him that he didn’t need to shift gears.
She was dying to ask him thousands of questions about what he’d done in the last years, but she thought it would be better if he told her at his own pace. She knew he worked for his bastard of a father—the word made her smile in memory—and his father had money. But if his car was any indication, it looked like he didn’t share it with his son.
Kim thought about the horror of what Travis’s current life must be like—and why he was doing it. To give up his own life to protect his mother! How heroic was that?
As she pulled into her driveway she remembered that he’d asked for her help, and she vowed to give it.
Travis parked beside her and got out. “You don’t use your garage?”
“I have it set up as a workroom.” She fumbled for her house key on the ring.
“So when it snows or rains or gets really hot, your car is outside?” He took the keys from her and unlocked the door.
“Yes,” she said as she went inside. She switched on the lamps by the couch she and Jecca had chosen. The room was done in shades of blue and white. One wall was bookcases and a TV, a fireplace below. The ceiling went up to the roof, with big white exposed rafters.
“Nice,” Travis said. “It looks like a home.” He was wondering why his expensive decorator couldn’t have done something like this. But then, he’d not given the woman any help by telling her what he liked.
“Thanks,” Kim said and turned away so he wouldn’t see her grin. “Kitchen’s this way.”
“Kim, you don’t need to feed me,” he said. “That you’re giving me a place to sleep is enough. I can—” He stopped talking at the sight of her kitchen. It opened into the dining area, and all of it was warm and cozy. There was a big pink granite island, with copper pots hung along one wall. The dining table was big and old, with cut marks from hundreds of meals.
“I like this,” he said. “Have you had this house long?” He knew the answer to that because he’d followed the sale every inch of the way. He’d even had Penny make a couple of calls to the bank where Kim was applying for a mortgage. He wanted to make sure everything went through smoothly.
“Less than a year,” she said.
“And you made it look like this in that time?”
“Jecca and I did it all. We . . .” She shrugged.
“You two are artists, so you knew what you were doing. What can I do to help with dinner?”