until she stopped talking. “If you’re finished now, I’ll explain.”
Alex sipped her wine and settled back against the contoured cushion of the chair.
“I was fifteen and headed for trouble. I found him sleeping under one of the bridges in Portland. It was February. He was soaking wet and cold, with a cough that practically turned him inside out. He was a gruff old codger, but something made me keep going back. At first, he wouldn’t have anything to do with me. On clear days, he’d pack up his few belongings and leave just so he wouldn’t have to listen to me talk. Lucky for me, we practically had a monsoon that month.” Nate laughed and mischief gleamed from his blue eyes.
“Little by little, he started to come around. I think I just wore him down until he was too sick and tired to run from me anymore. I got him dry clothes from Goodwill, a warm sleeping bag that my dad said we didn’t need anymore, and my mom, bless her heart, always fixed extra food. Whenever I could, I made sure he slept and ate at one of the shelters. But the cough kept getting worse.”
Alex’s heart swelled with pride and affection for the fifteen-year-old boy who’d had compassion enough to make the difference in the life of a stranger. Tears burned behind her eyes. He was trying to do the same thing for her.
Nate reached for her hand and sandwiched it between his two big paws. “Leo refused to go to a doctor. Said he didn’t trust ’em. But, one day I couldn’t wake him, and he was burning up with fever. My dad and I hauled him to the free clinic. Doctors said he wouldn’t have made it another day—pneumonia. They sent him straight to the hospital, and I don’t think they expected him to make it.”
“Thank goodness you were there.” Alex let out the breath she’d been holding.
“Yeah, well, when Uncle Leo woke up in that hospital, I thought he’d come off of that bed and strangle me right there.” Laughter rumbled easily from him as he shook his head. “He was in for two weeks, and I bet it was every bit of that before he finally forgave me and admitted it might have been a smart thing to take him there.”
Alex rubbed a finger across the rim of her wineglass. “You are a little pushy about certain things.” She gazed at him from beneath lowered lashes, but couldn’t help smiling when his eyes narrowed. “How did he go from broke, sick, and homeless to living in that gorgeous mansion?”
“In hindsight, I guess I should have asked that question. After he got back on his feet, I lost track of him for a couple years. Figured he found another bridge in some other city, but I’d check out all of his old favorites once in a while anyway. And one day . . . there he was. I almost didn’t recognize him.” Nate grinned. “All spiffed up like the dandies he used to rail against.”
He let go of her hand and gripped his wine glass, downing the last swallow. “He took me out to his house, gave me the tour, and then gave me a key. Said I was welcome anytime. I was probably the closest thing that old man had to family, but I figured if he wanted me to know where the money came from, he’d tell me. As the years went by, it didn’t seem to matter anymore.”
“He was lucky to have you.”
“That worked both ways.” Nate looked away for a second, but not before Alex saw the hint of sorrow in his eyes.
When had he become so easy to talk to? She could even give him a hard time and not feel anxious about how he might react. How strange to be so completely comfortable with him. No fear or distrust remained for Detective Nate Sanders . . . at least for the moment. It must have snuck in unexpectedly about the same time their main course arrived. Their conversation had begun with Ty and the years the two men had worked together. Then they’d changed gears to Nate’s childhood, growing up in the Willamette Valley. He’d given her carte blanche with topics, so she’d been able to stay away from her
Alex sipped her wine and settled back against the contoured cushion of the chair.
“I was fifteen and headed for trouble. I found him sleeping under one of the bridges in Portland. It was February. He was soaking wet and cold, with a cough that practically turned him inside out. He was a gruff old codger, but something made me keep going back. At first, he wouldn’t have anything to do with me. On clear days, he’d pack up his few belongings and leave just so he wouldn’t have to listen to me talk. Lucky for me, we practically had a monsoon that month.” Nate laughed and mischief gleamed from his blue eyes.
“Little by little, he started to come around. I think I just wore him down until he was too sick and tired to run from me anymore. I got him dry clothes from Goodwill, a warm sleeping bag that my dad said we didn’t need anymore, and my mom, bless her heart, always fixed extra food. Whenever I could, I made sure he slept and ate at one of the shelters. But the cough kept getting worse.”
Alex’s heart swelled with pride and affection for the fifteen-year-old boy who’d had compassion enough to make the difference in the life of a stranger. Tears burned behind her eyes. He was trying to do the same thing for her.
Nate reached for her hand and sandwiched it between his two big paws. “Leo refused to go to a doctor. Said he didn’t trust ’em. But, one day I couldn’t wake him, and he was burning up with fever. My dad and I hauled him to the free clinic. Doctors said he wouldn’t have made it another day—pneumonia. They sent him straight to the hospital, and I don’t think they expected him to make it.”
“Thank goodness you were there.” Alex let out the breath she’d been holding.
“Yeah, well, when Uncle Leo woke up in that hospital, I thought he’d come off of that bed and strangle me right there.” Laughter rumbled easily from him as he shook his head. “He was in for two weeks, and I bet it was every bit of that before he finally forgave me and admitted it might have been a smart thing to take him there.”
Alex rubbed a finger across the rim of her wineglass. “You are a little pushy about certain things.” She gazed at him from beneath lowered lashes, but couldn’t help smiling when his eyes narrowed. “How did he go from broke, sick, and homeless to living in that gorgeous mansion?”
“In hindsight, I guess I should have asked that question. After he got back on his feet, I lost track of him for a couple years. Figured he found another bridge in some other city, but I’d check out all of his old favorites once in a while anyway. And one day . . . there he was. I almost didn’t recognize him.” Nate grinned. “All spiffed up like the dandies he used to rail against.”
He let go of her hand and gripped his wine glass, downing the last swallow. “He took me out to his house, gave me the tour, and then gave me a key. Said I was welcome anytime. I was probably the closest thing that old man had to family, but I figured if he wanted me to know where the money came from, he’d tell me. As the years went by, it didn’t seem to matter anymore.”
“He was lucky to have you.”
“That worked both ways.” Nate looked away for a second, but not before Alex saw the hint of sorrow in his eyes.
When had he become so easy to talk to? She could even give him a hard time and not feel anxious about how he might react. How strange to be so completely comfortable with him. No fear or distrust remained for Detective Nate Sanders . . . at least for the moment. It must have snuck in unexpectedly about the same time their main course arrived. Their conversation had begun with Ty and the years the two men had worked together. Then they’d changed gears to Nate’s childhood, growing up in the Willamette Valley. He’d given her carte blanche with topics, so she’d been able to stay away from her
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