not a morning person,” Corbin answered as he poured coffee, adding liberal amounts of cream. “The two of you couldn’t be more different.”
She knew which of them he preferred. “I’m sorry I’m not more like her.”
“I wasn’t implying you’re in any way inferior. Don’t be so quick to take offense.”
What was she supposed to say to that? With a murmured excuse, she went upstairs, knocking softly on Phoebe’s door. “Breakfast is ready if you’re interested,” she called out in a falsely cheerful voice.
What sounded like a shoe hit the door. “Go away,” Phoebe replied in a grumpy voice.
When Aubrey told Corbin, he laughed and passed her the plate of biscuits. “Hey, it’s her loss, right? I’m going to be busy this morning. I’ve got some modifications to make to the plans for our friend in the northeast.”
“Did you hear back from him? Has he made a decision?”
“He’s narrowed it down to three companies, but he also added another property. This is turning out to be a big job. We may have to move up there.”
She could hear the eagerness in his voice. “You really want this one, don’t you?”
“It’s the most ambitious project I’ve ever bid on. It could make or break me.”
“I can’t see you letting anything break you.”
Corbin stood abruptly and took his plate to the sink. Someone had almost broken him six years ago, and he still bore the scars. “I’ve had my moments like everyone else. Thanks for breakfast; I haven’t had biscuits that good in a long time.”
She watched him go with a wry smile. Had she said the wrong thing again?
* * * *
Aubrey slipped on rubber-soled shoes and headed out the door. As the distance grew between her and the house, so did her guilt. She should have let Corbin know where she was going. But then again, once Phoebe made an appearance, he wasn’t likely to worry about what she was doing.
All would have been well with this plan had Aubrey simply taken a walk and returned. She would have had her spurt of rebellion without anyone being the wiser. But situations have a way of changing quickly, and Aubrey had no idea her innocent outing would have such far-reaching consequences.
The morning air was crisp with its familiar salty tang. Aubrey felt all the cares and worries of the past twenty-four hours slip away. She hardly noticed the wind picking up except to delight in the coolness it brought to her warm skin. There were some dark clouds on the horizon, but safe in the knowledge that she’d be home long before any storm arrived, she walked on.
Faint cries pierced the air causing Aubrey to stop and glance around. The sounds were coming from behind a clump of sea oats. Pushing aside the long fronds, she spied a small figure lying in the sand. Frightened blue eyes, their long lashes spiked with tears, stared up at her. Aubrey noticed that the little girl’s long reddish-blonde hair was matted with blood.
“Hello, there. What’s your name?”
“Chloe.”
“You seem to have hurt yourself. Can I take a look at your head?” Aubrey crouched down beside the little girl and began pulling away the bloody strands of hair. Her probing fingers found a good-sized scrape bleeding sluggishly. “How did this happen?”
“I fell down and hit that rock.” Pointing a small, grubby finger, the child indicated a sharp-edged rock half hidden in the sand.
“I think the best plan would be for us to find your Mom.”
“I can’t go home like this. Mommy doesn’t know I left.”
Grinning at this ingenuous speech, Aubrey stood and the child followed suit. “Then we’ll surprise her. Where do you live?”
“That way.” She pointed in the direction Aubrey had been going.
“Would you like me to carry you?”
“No. It’s just my head that hurts, not my legs.”
Aubrey was touched when a small hand came to rest in hers as the two began walking. After passing several houses, she began to wonder if Chloe knew where she was going. Before she
She knew which of them he preferred. “I’m sorry I’m not more like her.”
“I wasn’t implying you’re in any way inferior. Don’t be so quick to take offense.”
What was she supposed to say to that? With a murmured excuse, she went upstairs, knocking softly on Phoebe’s door. “Breakfast is ready if you’re interested,” she called out in a falsely cheerful voice.
What sounded like a shoe hit the door. “Go away,” Phoebe replied in a grumpy voice.
When Aubrey told Corbin, he laughed and passed her the plate of biscuits. “Hey, it’s her loss, right? I’m going to be busy this morning. I’ve got some modifications to make to the plans for our friend in the northeast.”
“Did you hear back from him? Has he made a decision?”
“He’s narrowed it down to three companies, but he also added another property. This is turning out to be a big job. We may have to move up there.”
She could hear the eagerness in his voice. “You really want this one, don’t you?”
“It’s the most ambitious project I’ve ever bid on. It could make or break me.”
“I can’t see you letting anything break you.”
Corbin stood abruptly and took his plate to the sink. Someone had almost broken him six years ago, and he still bore the scars. “I’ve had my moments like everyone else. Thanks for breakfast; I haven’t had biscuits that good in a long time.”
She watched him go with a wry smile. Had she said the wrong thing again?
* * * *
Aubrey slipped on rubber-soled shoes and headed out the door. As the distance grew between her and the house, so did her guilt. She should have let Corbin know where she was going. But then again, once Phoebe made an appearance, he wasn’t likely to worry about what she was doing.
All would have been well with this plan had Aubrey simply taken a walk and returned. She would have had her spurt of rebellion without anyone being the wiser. But situations have a way of changing quickly, and Aubrey had no idea her innocent outing would have such far-reaching consequences.
The morning air was crisp with its familiar salty tang. Aubrey felt all the cares and worries of the past twenty-four hours slip away. She hardly noticed the wind picking up except to delight in the coolness it brought to her warm skin. There were some dark clouds on the horizon, but safe in the knowledge that she’d be home long before any storm arrived, she walked on.
Faint cries pierced the air causing Aubrey to stop and glance around. The sounds were coming from behind a clump of sea oats. Pushing aside the long fronds, she spied a small figure lying in the sand. Frightened blue eyes, their long lashes spiked with tears, stared up at her. Aubrey noticed that the little girl’s long reddish-blonde hair was matted with blood.
“Hello, there. What’s your name?”
“Chloe.”
“You seem to have hurt yourself. Can I take a look at your head?” Aubrey crouched down beside the little girl and began pulling away the bloody strands of hair. Her probing fingers found a good-sized scrape bleeding sluggishly. “How did this happen?”
“I fell down and hit that rock.” Pointing a small, grubby finger, the child indicated a sharp-edged rock half hidden in the sand.
“I think the best plan would be for us to find your Mom.”
“I can’t go home like this. Mommy doesn’t know I left.”
Grinning at this ingenuous speech, Aubrey stood and the child followed suit. “Then we’ll surprise her. Where do you live?”
“That way.” She pointed in the direction Aubrey had been going.
“Would you like me to carry you?”
“No. It’s just my head that hurts, not my legs.”
Aubrey was touched when a small hand came to rest in hers as the two began walking. After passing several houses, she began to wonder if Chloe knew where she was going. Before she
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