Sugar Pine Trail

After trying the regulator on the pilot a few times with no success, he sought an alternative.

“Got a match?” he asked.

“Not on me,” she answered with a rueful look. “But my father always kept some down here to light the pilot on our old furnace.”

She went to a shelf along the wall that still held dusty preserves. After rooting around a moment, she pulled out a box of long matches. “I can’t guarantee they’ll still light,” she said. “My dad’s been gone three years now.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. His pop was still going strong. Jamie hated thinking of a world that didn’t have Dermot Caine in it.

“Thank you. He was a good man, even toward the end. Some people with Alzheimer’s get mean, but my father was always the sweetest, most gentle man.”

Alzheimer’s. That was tough. He knew how heartbreaking that damn disease could be.

Her mother had recently died, he remembered. Eliza had mentioned her mother had spent her last few months in a nursing home after a series of strokes, which meant she had been through more than her share. Eliza had also told him Julia was an only child. That must have been a heavy load to carry alone.

He couldn’t fix that for her, but at least could get the hot water going again. Turning his attention to the task at hand, Jamie adjusted the gas to the pilot light and quickly lit a match to it. The light ignited with a whoosh that made her gasp a little and step back.

When it appeared the water heater was working correctly, Jamie stood up. “That should do it. My shower should be hot in no time.”

“If you have more trouble, let me know, and I’ll call the company in Shelter Springs that installed it.”

“You got it.”

“Thank you for fixing it. I wouldn’t have known the first thing to do.”

“I didn’t do anything except check the pilot light,” he said.

“My mother always called a neighbor every time something went wrong. I’m trying to be a little more...independent. Obviously I have a long way to go.”

She mustered a smile, but her eyes still looked haunted. Something was wrong, he thought again. He had a feeling it had nothing to do with her parents.

“There’s nothing to lighting a pilot light. See that regulator valve? Just turn that to pilot and hold it down for about a minute. If it doesn’t light, you can use a long-handled lighter or match. Just keep your eyebrows out of the way. If you’re fond of them and want to keep them, anyway.”

That teased a little smile out of her, but it slid away quickly.

“After it’s lit, you have to hold down the valve to heat the thermocouple for about a minute, then release it and you should be good to go.”

“I’ll probably just end up calling the neighbor, but thanks for the explanation. I guess that’s it, then. Enjoy your shower.”

The big tank wouldn’t have enough hot water for a shower for hours yet, but he didn’t tell her that. “Thanks.”

He replaced the door on the control panel, then the two of them headed back up the stairs.

When they were once more in her kitchen, he couldn’t ignore the bleak sadness in her eyes any longer. “Is something wrong? Besides the hot water heater, I mean?”

Her eyes widened with surprise. “I don’t...why would you ask that?”

“You seem troubled.”

He wanted to tell her she appeared very different from the soft, appealing, tipsy woman she had been the night before. That hardly seemed appropriate, though, so he held his tongue.

“I’m fine, Mr. Caine. It’s been a very long and difficult day, and the only things on my mind are my comfy pajamas, a cup of tea and a good book.”

He had no right whatsoever to push her to tell him what was wrong, as much as he might want to.

“I understand,” he finally said. The truth was, if he switched the pajamas for sweats and the tea for a beer, his evening would be just about the same.

“Good night, Mr. Caine,” she said woodenly.

What happened to Jamie? he wondered, as he let himself out and headed back up the stairs. Did she remember that she had asked him to call her Julia?

He had to admit, he liked the sweetly soused woman he had met in the entryway the night before much better than this forlorn version. He would even prefer the stiff, prickly librarian she had been when she showed him around the apartment.

CHAPTER SIX (#u87ed92cc-3926-5cf6-af7f-a8b2ba8b44a8)

SHOULD SHE OR shouldn’t she?

Julia gazed at her cell phone as she gnawed her lip in indecision. She had already called Wyn four times that day and ended up with her friend’s voice mail each time. Phoning her yet again might be verging on harassment.

She had to know, though. What was going on with Davy and Clinton? Had Wyn found a foster care placement for them? Where? Would they have to spend Thanksgiving in a cheerless facility somewhere?

These questions had haunted her all night long. As exhausted as she’d been the night before, she expected that once she slipped into those comfy pajamas she had mentioned to Jamie Caine and finished her chamomile tea, she would be out like a light. Instead, she had paced and worried and paced some more, under the watchful eyes of three sulky cats.

It hadn’t helped when she finally heard the shower upstairs start up. Her stupid imagination wandered in dangerous waters, and she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him up there, all wet skin and hard muscles...

She owed the man an apology.

Jamie had offered her only kindness, fixing the water heater and showing concern and asking if something was wrong. In return, she had been stiff and cold, as dismissive as her cats to his efforts at kindness.

What was it about the man that left her feeling so completely flustered? She could carry on casual conversations with her library patrons all day. Strangers, friends, children, senior citizens. But around Jamie, she couldn’t seem to string two coherent sentences together. She was awkward and tongue-tied.

His easygoing manner should have helped her feel more comfortable around him. Instead, it seemed to have the opposite effect, heightening her awareness of him and her own ridiculous crush on the man, until she couldn’t seem to think about anything else.

She wasn’t sure why she found it so surprising that he could be full of charm. Every woman in Haven Point was enamored with Jamie. To draw that sort of adoration, he had to possess more than simply good looks.

She found him entirely too appealing—but right now her crush on her upstairs tenant was the least of her worries.

Julia pulled out her phone again, staring at Wynona’s contact info. She would call one more time, she decided, then stop hounding her friend.

This time, the phone rang only twice before the call was answered.

“Julia!” Wyn sounded breathless and harried. “I’m so sorry I haven’t returned your calls. I’ve been in meetings all morning long.”

Julia could feel her cheeks turn pink, and she shifted in her chair. She should have waited for Wynona to call her back instead of hounding her. “I’m sorry to be a pain. I’ve been so worried about the boys. How is everything going? Did you locate their mother? Have you found a good placement for them?”

A long pause met her question, and she knew the answer even before Wynona replied.

“That’s one of the reasons I haven’t had time to return your call. I’ve been in contact with different agencies all across the southern half of the state. So far we’ve had no luck locating the mother. Everyone is out there looking. Meanwhile, I’m doing all I can to find an in-home placement for the boys, at least for Thanksgiving. Even the various group facilities are packed. I’ve found two available foster homes, one in Pocatello and one in Burley. Unfortunately, they can each only take one boy.”