“But…I have no…” Blushing furiously, she raised her hands as if to say she couldn’t compensate him for it, but no way would he let her take off that coat. He wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if he did.
“I don’t want it. Really. It’s extra. I was going to throw it away.”
She stared at him. “In the garbage?”
The shock in her voice told him how wasteful she found that, but if it made her accept the damn coat, he didn’t care about her opinion of him. “Right, in the garbage. You might as well take it.”
With a brief nod, and a determined tilt of her chin, she got out and waved. When he didn’t drive off as she expected, she lost some of her false confidence and stepped into the drugstore.
“What do you think?” Brent asked above the steady swish of the windshield wipers.
Letting the engine idle, Ken watched the entrance to the drugstore. “I don’t think she knows a soul at the store or anywhere else in town.”
“I don’t, either. She’s trying to make us believe she belongs here, but she doesn’t. What’s going on?”
Ken shoved a hand through his hair. “I wish I knew.”
“Should we have offered her some money?”
He’d already considered that. “She wouldn’t take it. She’s nothing if not proud. Didn’t you see how she reacted when I gave her the coat? She didn’t even want to borrow it, let alone keep it.”
Brent got out and climbed into the passenger seat. “So what can we do? It’s not like we can tell her we were about to throw away our boots.”
The thought of her feet in those wet shoes bothered Ken. So did the memory of that brief moment when she’d slipped her hands up his shirt and burrowed into him. She’d only been hoping for a few minutes of warmth, but a woman didn’t take that kind of liberty with a strange man unless she was too young or naive to know better—or too desperate to care. And Cierra wasn’t naive. Although he doubted she was quite as old as he was, she’d seen a lot of hard living. That much showed in her large, stunning eyes.
“There’s nothing we can do,” he said, trying to convince himself.
“And if we don’t leave now, the roads could become impassable,” Brent reminded him.
Giving the Land Rover some gas, he eased into the street. But he didn’t get very far before his conscience dictated that he go back and do some more research.
When he drove around the block instead of heading up the canyon, Brent glanced over at him. “What are you doing?”
“I just want to see what she does next.” Parking the Land Rover where she wouldn’t be able to spot it should she emerge from the store, he got out.
Brent climbed out, too, and jogged to catch up with him.
With Christmas lights adorning almost every building in town, from city hall to the bowling alley to Jerry’s Diner, and a Salvation Army bell ringer outside Finley’s Grocery down the street, Dundee hadn’t changed much over the thirty Christmases Ken had been alive. His ex-girlfriend had found his hometown the epitome of dull and boring. She hated the close-knit community, hated the feeling that everyone was a little too eager to get involved in their business. But Dundee’s Norman Rockwell charm appealed to Ken. This was home to him. He wanted to raise his children where they could see his mother, stepfather and brother. His real father wasn’t as much of a draw but, with his heavy drinking, Russ would need someone to look out for him in a few years. He was already having liver problems. Ken figured that, as the eldest, caring for Russ would fall to him.
Before reaching the entrance to the drugstore, he grabbed Brent’s arm and peered through the window.
Cierra stood in the candy aisle holding something she obviously hoped to purchase—a Snickers bar?—while counting out change in the palm of her hand. But she didn’t seem to have enough money. She searched her purse, checked every pocket, even the pockets of his coat and the floor, but eventually put the candy bar back.
“Oh, God,” he muttered.
“What’s the matter?” Brent asked.
“Why didn’t we feed her?”
“She’s hungry?”
“Of course she’s hungry.” But he’d been too worried about getting her wherever she needed to go to think about food. Efficiency had taken precedence over humanity.
“It’s not as if we have bags of groceries at the cabin,” Brent was saying. “Just those steaks we were planning to grill tonight. Feeding her would’ve meant asking her to stay for dinner.”
And, had they waited, the storm could’ve made leaving impossible. But…he hated knowing she couldn’t buy food. How long was it since she’d eaten? Walking from Dundee to his cabin would take all day. Unless she’d carried a sack lunch, she hadn’t eaten since early morning, if she’d eaten then.
“So…she’s broke?” Brent said.
“That’s my guess.”
Cierra wandered around the aisles, probably hoping they’d be gone by the time she came out. Staying inside, where it was warm, beat wandering the streets, in any case. It wasn’t as if she seemed to have anywhere to go….
Suddenly, her head jerked up and she looked over at the cash register. The clerk must have asked if there was anything he could help her find, and that was enough to drive her into the cold. She gave the candy section one final glance, pulled the hood of Ken’s coat over her head and started for the exit.
“What are we going to do?” Brent asked.
“Feed her,” Ken said, and left the window.
When she stepped outside and saw them coming toward her, she turned the other direction. And when they followed her, she began to walk faster and faster until she broke into a run.
Afraid they were frightening her by chasing her down, Ken slowed and motioned for Brent to do the same. “Cierra!”
She turned. “Did you…did you want your coat?” she yelled above the wind as if she couldn’t imagine any other reason they’d be following her. If he’d been wearing a jacket, she probably would’ve continued to hurry away.
Ken blinked the snowflakes out of his eyes. “No. We were…heading over to the diner to…get a bite to eat and thought…you might like to join us.” He’d certainly never lacked for female companionship, but thanks to his football career, he’d always had the cards stacked in his favor. He couldn’t remember meeting anyone, at least in Dundee, who didn’t appreciate his background. So he wasn’t sure how to handle this woman, who was so prickly and suspicious and unlikely to be impressed with what he’d achieved in professional sports.