her little girl and decided to ask if they needed anything. She took a minute to say yes, but then she volunteered their sizes.”
“You’re an angel, Myrna.”
“I’m a good liar when I need to be. So here’s what you do. I told her I’d have you stop by here to pick up the clothes. Since she may watch from a window, you’ll leave here with a garbage bag stuffed with newspaper. Act like it’s heavy. Once back in your truck, do the switch, replacing the newspaper with the clothes. And for God’s sake, don’t forget to remove the tags and stickers. Tony doesn’t when he gives me gifts.”
“Got it,” Jeb said, grinning so broadly his cheeks ached. “And God love you, Myrna. You’ve got a heart of gold.”
Still smiling after he broke the connection, Jeb finished shopping and returned to the clothing section. For Amanda, he found a blue down-filled parka with a hood trimmed in fake fur. He also got her some matching snow pants and boots, plus a pair of pull-on, low-cut shoes that were waterproof. For Chloe, he chose pink all the way. He forgot gloves, hats, and mufflers, causing him to make a U-turn.
Tags and stickers
. He had to remove those. They’d be a dead giveaway.
The older lady running one of the registers had dyed black hair swirled up into a stiff cone atop her head. Face slathered with makeup, she looked like an alien. When she saw Jeb using his knife to remove the tags from his purchases, she said, “Oh, darling, let me help.”
Darling?
Jeb gave her a study and realized, with a lurch of his stomach, that she was coming on to him.
Shit
. She was older than his mother. She went to work with a small pair of scissors, her long scarlet nails flashing.
Kate Rush, a twentysomething blonde whose sister, Misty Baker, owned the Cherokee Rose florist shop on Seven Curves Road, caught Jeb’s gaze and winked at him, a telltale sign that he wasn’t the only man this older gal had victimized.
“Are these gifts?”
Jeb jerked his attention back to the man hunter. When she smiled, her caked cheeks creased with more lines than a road map. “Yes, ma’am.”
She flapped a hand. “Don’t call me ma’am, you handsome thing. My name is Bernice Kaley, Bernie to my friends, and I’d love to count you as one.”
Jeb was afraid she’d give him her phone number next. She studied his credit card before swiping it.
“Jebediah Sterling. Now
that
is a masculine name if ever I’ve heard one.”
Jeb made his escape as fast as possible. Circling the store to the parking lot, he threw all his purchases onto the truck’s backseat and then walked across the icy asphalt to Flagg’s Market, where he could buy cases of bottled water.
* * *
Amanda felt as nervous as a kitten in an overpopulated dog kennel. Because of the fabulous meal Jeb had throwntogether last night, she felt less than confident about preparing his lunch.
Ridiculous
. That voice in her brain whispering how stupid and ineffective she was at everything was Mark’s, not her own. She was a good cook. Mark had demanded tasty meals, forcing her to create great dishes on a limited budget. She could surely make Jeb Sterling a hot dish that would please him.
Her shoes had dried, so she put them on. When she looked out a window, she shivered even though the house was toasty.
Power lines thick with ice. Trees that looked frozen solid.
If she were out in that weather, she’d want a hot meal, too.
Chloe sat at the table drawing on paper filched from Jeb’s office trash as Amanda removed loaves of bread from the oven. Bozo, snoozing beside the girl, suddenly lifted his gigantic head and released a happy “Woof!” Amanda suspected Jeb had pulled up in his truck. Chloe cast her a panicked look.
“He’s going to see the bathroom, Mommy. I just know it.”
Amanda had laid out a towel and soap by the kitchen sink, hoping to keep Jeb out of there. She heard the front door open, followed by the clank of chains on the slate.
“I’m home!”
“You’re an angel, Myrna.”
“I’m a good liar when I need to be. So here’s what you do. I told her I’d have you stop by here to pick up the clothes. Since she may watch from a window, you’ll leave here with a garbage bag stuffed with newspaper. Act like it’s heavy. Once back in your truck, do the switch, replacing the newspaper with the clothes. And for God’s sake, don’t forget to remove the tags and stickers. Tony doesn’t when he gives me gifts.”
“Got it,” Jeb said, grinning so broadly his cheeks ached. “And God love you, Myrna. You’ve got a heart of gold.”
Still smiling after he broke the connection, Jeb finished shopping and returned to the clothing section. For Amanda, he found a blue down-filled parka with a hood trimmed in fake fur. He also got her some matching snow pants and boots, plus a pair of pull-on, low-cut shoes that were waterproof. For Chloe, he chose pink all the way. He forgot gloves, hats, and mufflers, causing him to make a U-turn.
Tags and stickers
. He had to remove those. They’d be a dead giveaway.
The older lady running one of the registers had dyed black hair swirled up into a stiff cone atop her head. Face slathered with makeup, she looked like an alien. When she saw Jeb using his knife to remove the tags from his purchases, she said, “Oh, darling, let me help.”
Darling?
Jeb gave her a study and realized, with a lurch of his stomach, that she was coming on to him.
Shit
. She was older than his mother. She went to work with a small pair of scissors, her long scarlet nails flashing.
Kate Rush, a twentysomething blonde whose sister, Misty Baker, owned the Cherokee Rose florist shop on Seven Curves Road, caught Jeb’s gaze and winked at him, a telltale sign that he wasn’t the only man this older gal had victimized.
“Are these gifts?”
Jeb jerked his attention back to the man hunter. When she smiled, her caked cheeks creased with more lines than a road map. “Yes, ma’am.”
She flapped a hand. “Don’t call me ma’am, you handsome thing. My name is Bernice Kaley, Bernie to my friends, and I’d love to count you as one.”
Jeb was afraid she’d give him her phone number next. She studied his credit card before swiping it.
“Jebediah Sterling. Now
that
is a masculine name if ever I’ve heard one.”
Jeb made his escape as fast as possible. Circling the store to the parking lot, he threw all his purchases onto the truck’s backseat and then walked across the icy asphalt to Flagg’s Market, where he could buy cases of bottled water.
* * *
Amanda felt as nervous as a kitten in an overpopulated dog kennel. Because of the fabulous meal Jeb had throwntogether last night, she felt less than confident about preparing his lunch.
Ridiculous
. That voice in her brain whispering how stupid and ineffective she was at everything was Mark’s, not her own. She was a good cook. Mark had demanded tasty meals, forcing her to create great dishes on a limited budget. She could surely make Jeb Sterling a hot dish that would please him.
Her shoes had dried, so she put them on. When she looked out a window, she shivered even though the house was toasty.
Power lines thick with ice. Trees that looked frozen solid.
If she were out in that weather, she’d want a hot meal, too.
Chloe sat at the table drawing on paper filched from Jeb’s office trash as Amanda removed loaves of bread from the oven. Bozo, snoozing beside the girl, suddenly lifted his gigantic head and released a happy “Woof!” Amanda suspected Jeb had pulled up in his truck. Chloe cast her a panicked look.
“He’s going to see the bathroom, Mommy. I just know it.”
Amanda had laid out a towel and soap by the kitchen sink, hoping to keep Jeb out of there. She heard the front door open, followed by the clank of chains on the slate.
“I’m home!”
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