The Hamilton Heir

“Yes. In more ways than her age.” He changed the subject with a nod toward the basket. “Aren’t you going to eat something?”

“I guess I should, since you went to all this trouble. What would you like?”

“Considering the morning I had, I think I’d better keep both hands on the wheel, don’t you? Go ahead without me. I can grab a bite while you’re getting your meals ready or whatever it is you need to do.”

“Okay.” Dawn lifted the hinged lid of the basket, took out the sandwich on top and bit into it. “Umm. Tuna. Delicious.”

She chewed and swallowed, then said, “First, I have a few things I need to do at my apartment. You can eat while I’m changing into something more comfortable.” Her cheeks burned the moment she realized the possible salacious interpretation of her innocent remark. “I meant, you can eat while you wait for me in the car.”

“Of course.”

A sidelong glance at her companion revealed a smile he was trying to subdue. Tim was laughing at her. Oh, not out loud because he was too polite, but he was laughing, all the same. She’d have to choose her words a lot more carefully in the future. Some English major she’d turned out to be! A few minutes alone with Timothy Hamilton and her normally quick wit had fled like a dry leaf in a Tennessee tornado. Although he’d earned the behind-the-scenes nickname, Typhoon Tim, because of his habit of approaching work with the speed of a whirlwind, this was one more reason the name fit. He’d certainly blown her away with his cordiality and innate charisma.

Dawn sighed in self-disgust and concentrated on finishing the first half of her sandwich. As she’d decided earlier, this was going to be a very, very long evening.

They’d crossed the Cumberland via Mill Road and were approaching the downtown area of Hickory Mills when Tim broke into her contemplation with a question. “Are we getting close?”

“Yes. My apartment is on Third, like I said, near the corner of Market.” She screwed the cap back on her bottle of water, then pointed. “You can turn here.”

Blotting her mouth with a paper napkin she placed the picnic basket on the seat between them. “This is it. Park anywhere along the street. I won’t be long.”

“Take your time,” Tim said pleasantly. “I’ll be right here, relaxing and enjoying my supper.”

He swung in parallel to the cracked curb, shut off the engine and got out to open the car door for her. By the time he’d circled the car, however, Dawn had already let herself out.

He stopped short, slipped his hands into his pockets and struck a nonchalant pose while he watched her disappear into the three-story brick building.

The woman was independent, that was for sure. Spunky. And she had the uncanny ability to make him laugh, something he did far too infrequently, especially lately.

She also had a depth of character he’d missed seeing until now. Although he disagreed with her decision to quit school, he understood why a person would do so in order to help his or her family.

If he and Dawn Leroux had nothing else in common they had that—a deep need to support and maintain the bonds of kinship. He certainly couldn’t fault her for that.

Dawn climbed the three flights of stairs and unlocked the door to her apartment. “Beau? I’m home. Where are you?”

The thump of the enormous brindle dog’s tail against the hardwood flooring echoed in the otherwise silent room. Dawn smiled as he rose, stretched and lumbered over to greet her. She was able to pat his broad head without reaching or bending. Phil had been fond of saying that a mastiff was a lazy man’s dog and Dawn had to agree. Not only was Beauregard so laid-back he rarely moved faster than a walk, he also remained quiet and calm in the face of almost anything, making him ideal for an apartment.

She snickered to herself as she led the dog down the back stairs and released him into the small yard that backed up to an overgrown drainage ditch. Why should Beau get excited? There wasn’t much he couldn’t handle if he had to. His mere size generally precluded the necessity to act. No human or animal in its right mind would challenge a dog with a muscled body the size of a pony, jaws as strong as an alligator’s and a tongue as broad as her palm.

Finished sniffing the grass and weeds, Beau returned to her as if they’d been together all his life. Dawn was thankful she’d been able to adopt him as a favor to her brother after Phil’s crippling accident. Their agreement had been for her to temporarily care for the big dog but, although it remained unsaid, Dawn and Phil both knew Beau would never go back to Louisiana.

She didn’t bother to leash him as they climbed the stairs together. Beau loved three things. Human companionship, food and naps, pretty much in that order. Since she was his best buddy and they were headed in the direction of his food dish, there was no chance Beau would stray.

As a matter of fact, he beat her to the door, pushed past her legs, headed straight for his dish and sat patiently waiting for his dinner.

Kibble rattled into the bowl as she poured from the bag of dog food before she gave him fresh drinking water.

He was crunching happily as she straightened and patted him on his broad, mottled-brown back. “Okay, baby, enjoy. I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise. You be good while I’m gone, okay?”

His tail wagged faster in reply, though his nose remained buried in the food.

She laughed. “Good. Stay right there so you don’t accidentally get me dirty. I’m going to go change. I have not been having a very good day.”

The foolishness of conversing with a dog struck Dawn funny. Old Beau might not be a very good conversationalist but he sure was easy to talk to, wasn’t he?

It was just as well Beau wasn’t able to give sage advice, she reasoned as she proceeded to don jeans and a blue short-sleeved sweater and run a brush through her hair. If she could think of any way to get out of spending the evening driving around with her persnickety boss, she’d send him packing in a heartbeat.

Chapter Three

Northside Community Church was well known not only because of its place in the history of Hickory Mills and Davis Landing, but also because it had a reputation for running exemplary outreach programs. The community kitchen and its preparation of meals-on-wheels was one such endeavor. The youth program was another.

Behind the white-painted brick facade and wide, columned portico of the original, more traditional church sat a more modern complex of two-story buildings in which that kind of humanitarian work was carried on daily.

Tim had known about the programs before he’d become Dawn’s temporary chauffeur but seeing one of them in operation gave him further appreciation of all the effort that went into managing such important projects.

It also showed him how well-respected his administrative assistant was in the community. Although she was a Tennessee transplant, she’d apparently been totally accepted by everyone at Northside, natives included.

Watching her greet the other kitchen volunteers so fondly gave him pause. Clearly, there were places where she was more fully accepted than he was, even though he and his family were an integral part of the entire area’s history and current prosperity.

Dawn stood aside, tugged the hem of her short-sleeved sweater over her jeans to smooth it and motioned him to come on into the kitchen. “Ladies, you know Mr. Hamilton? I had car trouble tonight and he was kind enough to offer to drive me on my rounds. Wasn’t that nice of him?”

Amid a tittering chorus of welcome, Tim strode forward as if arriving at a board meeting and offered his most amiable smile. “A pleasure to meet you all,” he said. “Please, call me Tim.”

Shaking hands with those who weren’t too deep in kitchen cleanup to offer, he saw Dawn standing back, hesitating. His smile widened. “Yes, you, too, Ms. Leroux. I’m sure it won’t destroy office protocol if we’re more informal tonight. It’ll help your clients relax, especially since they probably haven’t met me before, don’t you think?”

“I suppose so.” She swallowed hard. “Um, Tim.”

Tim couldn’t help being amused by her obvious nervousness. The woman was practically quaking. What was the matter with her? Did she think he was going to say or do something inappropriate? He’d been to Northside often enough in the past to be familiar with Pastor Abernathy and a few of the regular parishoners, especially the ones he played golf with, so what in the world could be bothering Dawn? She’d seemed just fine when she’d arrived and begun greeting the other workers like long-lost sisters. Now, however, she seemed jittery, as if she couldn’t wait to get out of there.

She found her voice moments later and pointed. “Those insulated boxes on the end of the counter are ours. The dinners go inside. If you’ll help me carry them to the car we can be on our way.”

“Sure.” He bestowed amiable smiles all around, said, “If you ladies will excuse us,” and joined Dawn. In the background he imagined he heard audible sighs. Those poor women must be exhausted. He wondered if they worked there the whole day.

Following Dawn to the car with the stack of padded boxes he asked about it. “How long do those volunteers work? Is it an all-day shift?”

“We break it down into two, usually,” Dawn said. “The earlier shift is much larger. They do the majority of the cooking every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning. A different bunch puts together the evening meals and cleans the kitchen.”

She paused at the rear of his car while he opened the trunk. “Most meals are delivered earlier, between noon and two or three o’clock. That’s why there aren’t other drivers picking up now. And that’s why it was so hard to find someone to take my place. We only have a few regulars who like their food at suppertime and I’m able to handle all the ones in town. I work Monday and Wednesday nights. Amy drives the country route on Fridays.”

“I see.” He carefully arranged the boxes in the trunk before closing it and starting for the passenger door. Dawn was already there, had it open and was climbing in. Acting like the gentleman his mother had raised wasn’t easy where Dawn Leroux was concerned, was it? It didn’t matter to Tim whether or not their outing was for pleasure. He didn’t have to be dating the lady to want to treat her with propriety.

“I would have gotten that door for you,” Tim said, sliding behind the wheel.

“It’s not necessary. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

He gave her a lopsided smile. “I don’t doubt that for a second. What I meant was, it’s a simple courtesy. One I’m used to offering.”

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I didn’t think of it quite that way.”