Once the sound of Brent’s engine dimmed, Cierra donned her old clothes and sank onto the bed next to the pile he’d attempted to give her. These garments were so much better than anything she’d ever owned, so similar to what she’d seen Tiffany wear. She thought she might have a chance of capturing Ken’s interest if she could look more…American. More…affluent.
But she couldn’t pretend to be something she wasn’t. New clothes didn’t change who she was or remove her responsibilities.
Getting his T-shirt from where she’d put it in a drawer earlier, she folded everything into a neat stack and laid his coat across the top. She didn’t want to take any of it. She preferred to leave knowing she’d worked for the food and shelter he’d provided and that he was no worse off for having met her.
The phone rang, but she ignored it. As of this moment, she no longer worked for Ken, so it wasn’t her place to answer. She was on her way out—but just as she reached the front door, she saw the nacimiento he’d bought for her to enjoy and paused in regret.
Would it be so terrible to take a small token to remember him by?
No. He probably wouldn’t even miss it. Christ wasn’t supposed to be in the manger yet, anyway.
KEN RETURNED TO THE CABIN relieved and excited. He’d spent most of the morning at his mother’s place, calling every associate he could think of, searching for a legitimate position Cierra could fill. And he’d found one. Lawrence Smith, a guy Ken had known in college, was living in Boise. Recently divorced, he had full custody of his three children and ran an import company that specialized in plywoods from Ecuador, the Philippines and Guatemala. His current nanny was getting married and moving to California the first of the year, which meant he needed a new one. And he didn’t mind that, for the time being, Cierra wasn’t a U.S. citizen.
The only hard part had been convincing Larry to hire Cierra instead of the woman he’d already interviewed, and to do it sight unseen. But Ken had vouched for her and promised to compensate Larry if she didn’t work out. Fortunately, Larry had been mollified when he learned that Cierra spoke English as well as she did. He considered it a bonus that his caregiver would be able to communicate with his children and teach them Spanish, since he frequently traveled to Spanish-speaking countries.
Eager to tell Cierra the news, Ken had tried to call the cabin, but she hadn’t picked up. And now that he was home, he couldn’t get her to answer when he called her name. Where was she? In the Jacuzzi?
That would surprise him. She wasn’t the type to relax in the middle of the day. It wasn’t like her to hang out in her room, either, not when there were boxes that needed to be unpacked.
He checked her room—and saw some clothing stacked on her bed. Judging by the tags, all still attached, these were the clothes his mother had bought. And, of course, he recognized his shirt and coat.
“Cierra? Hey, you around?” He already knew she wasn’t. That clothing told him as much. But he looked in the Jacuzzi room. And the gym. And the patio out back. He even unlocked the old workroom, where Gabe used to build his furniture. She wasn’t anywhere.
It wasn’t until he came back to the living room, however, that he realized she was gone for good. That was when he spotted the nativity set he’d bought, remembered how much she liked it and noticed that something was missing.
AT LEAST IT WASN’T snowing. And this time Cierra had a name; that would make the search easier. The slip of paper she’d brought from Vegas had probably held the same information, somewhere in that jumble of writing. If only Cierra had paid more attention to the details, she might’ve arrived at Baker’s in the first place.
Almost as soon as she’d started walking, two older women, Darla and Deanna Channing, sisters in their early seventies, pulled over to see if she needed a ride. They were taking advantage of the break in the weather by heading to town for supplies. Apparently, they owned a cabin not far from Ken’s.
Cierra had planned to start her search for Baker once she reached Dundee. She’d thought she’d have to go there to find someone who knew him well enough to give her directions. But when she mentioned his name, Deanna, the driver, said she used to be Baker’s schoolteacher. Not only did she know him, she knew where he lived and offered to take Cierra there.
Certain her luck had finally improved, Cierra felt her spirits lift—until they got to his cabin. Then she wasn’t sure what to do. The decrepit old shack looked as if a strong wind might blow it down the mountain. She knew Ken wasn’t impressed with the place, but she hadn’t expected it to be quite so bad.
“This is it?” she said, stalling.
“This is it. His mother used to be a good friend of mine, God rest her soul. She lived here, too, before she passed four years ago.”
Darla, the sister, frowned. “Doesn’t look as if he’s done much to keep up the place.”
Maybe he couldn’t, Cierra thought. Maybe Baker was poor, like her. If that was the case, she didn’t want to discriminate against him. She knew what it was like to be treated differently because of her economic status.
But there were the comments Ken’s father had made about Baker. Ken’s family didn’t hold him in very high esteem….
Grasping the door handle, she paused. “Do you know much about your friend’s son?”
“No.” Deanna adjusted the wool hat she wore to keep her ears warm. “There were some allegations once—”
“Allegations?” she interrupted, asking for clarification.
“She doesn’t understand that word,” Darla cut in.
Deanna patted her hand. “Never mind, dear. It doesn’t matter. His mother told me he had a boss who was out to get him, that he was falsely accused of some wrongdoing. But I’m not one to pass along gossip so we’ll leave it there.”
Gossip… Was that what Ken and his family had been reacting to? Cierra hoped that was all it was.
Thanking the sisters, she climbed out, but turned back when Deanna lowered her window. “Would you like us to wait for a few minutes?”
Relieved, Cierra nodded, then approached the front door and knocked twice.
No one answered.
“I don’t think he is home,” she called back.
The Channings briefly conferred. “Would you rather go to town?” Deanna asked.
Why would that help? She’d only been going to Dundee in order to find this location. “No. I will wait.”