“You’re sure? It’s cold out, young lady.”
“I am warm enough. And…the sky is clear today, yes?”
“For the moment,” Deanna grumbled, as if it could change quickly. But she promised they’d stop on their way back to make sure Cierra wasn’t still standing on the stoop, and pulled away.
Cierra knocked several more times, just because she had nothing better to do, and was surprised when she finally heard a noise from within.
“Hello? Is anyone at home?” she said loudly. “My name is Cierra Romero. I was…I was supposed to work for a Mr. Baker? His sister sent me.”
She heard someone say, “Well, what do you know.” Then the door opened and a man who hadn’t shaved in some time squinted out at her as if the sun was far too bright an intrusion into his dark little home.
“Slick finished with you already, huh?”
“Slick?” She didn’t know anyone by that name.
“The big NFL football stud. Ken Holbrook.”
Clasping her hands in front of her, she resisted the urge to fidget. “I no work for him now.”
“So…what kind of work did you do?”
Cierra wasn’t sure she liked Baker’s smile. There was…something about it. “I clean house. Unpack boxes.”
“And then you cleaned his pipes, right?” he said with a laugh.
His joke made no sense to her. She hadn’t cleaned any pipes…. “Pardon?”
“Never mind.” He looked her over carefully. “You are pretty. Just like my sister said.”
Cierra didn’t respond. Her looks didn’t have anything to do with their arrangement. She already knew she’d never marry this man. Maybe Charlie had been old, but he’d also been kind. He hadn’t reeked of alcohol. And he’d had far more to offer than a filthy dump. She didn’t want to be here. But one of the men with whom she’d hitchhiked had taught her a saying and it definitely fit: Beggars can’t be choosers.
“Come on in.” Stuart opened the door wider to make room for her, and Cierra swallowed hard as the smells drifting out of his cabin hit her nostrils. Was this really what she wanted to do?
She didn’t budge. “What are you offering in return for my labor?”
“Ooh!” He laughed as if he thought she was funny. “You’re a businesswoman, huh? Let’s just say that I’ll be happy as long as you give me what you gave Ken Holbrook.”
“I charge the same for all,” she said, but got the impression that she’d once again missed some nuance in the conversation.
He grew serious. “Here’s the deal. You keep the place clean and you cook, and I won’t call the INS. Simple enough?”
She didn’t like that he’d mentioned immigration. “Dishes? Dusting? Vacuuming? Laundry?”
He gave her a slight bow. “Sí.”
Was he mocking her? It was so difficult to tell. But she believed Charlie’s ex wouldn’t have sent her here if it wasn’t safe. This was Arlene’s brother. Maybe she hadn’t been nice to begin with, but she hadn’t sent Cierra back to Guatemala, either.
After Christmas, or in a few months, she’d learn of other opportunities and be able to find a better situation. Or she’d be able to post on that bride website again. “Then…I accept.”
“I’m so glad I could measure up to Slick.”
Measure up… Cierra was fairly certain no one could “measure up” to Ken. At least, she’d never met another man like him.
“I’ve always wanted to earn the approval of an illegal alien,” he added with a wink.
“You are…being funny?” she asked, confused again.
“No, no. Just amusing myself. Come on in, like I said.”
As he stepped back to admit her, she put her hand in her pocket and curled her fingers around the glossy porcelain Christ child she’d taken from Ken’s. The memory of having known Ken would be enough to get her through the next few weeks. And, as soon as possible, she’d find a new place to live….
CHAPTER TWELVE
WHILE KEN PACED in the kitchen of his parents’ house, Gabe sat nearby, in his wheelchair. Hannah stood at the table, wrapping presents.
“I don’t know where else to look,” he said. “I’ve already driven up and down the canyon three times but didn’t see her. And she was on foot! She couldn’t have gone far by the time I got home and realized she’d left.”
“I’ve never seen you this worked up.” Hannah took the piece of tape her husband held out. “Do you really think this woman is in danger?”
“She could be. But she’s not the type to reach out for help. She’s…maddeningly stubborn.”
A curious expression lit Gabe’s eyes, and he smiled. “That sounds like grudging respect to me.”
He couldn’t meet his stepfather’s gaze, didn’t want Gabe to misinterpret what he was feeling. It was guilt that had him worked up, nothing more. “I do admire her. I’ve never met anyone with her character. Someone who’s been tested to such a degree and still won’t bend. But enough is enough, you know? I get that she’s decent and willful and independent. I get that she feels responsible for her sisters and will do anything to help them. I even get that she wants to support herself and not be some charity case. What I don’t get is the fact that she’s walking around wearing a thin sweatshirt when she could be wearing a heavy coat, a coat I’d never miss. And I don’t like that she doesn’t have a dime to her name, even though I would’ve happily given her some cash, if only she’d take it.” He pivoted at the stove and headed back toward them. “You should’ve seen how hungry she was when I first found her. I don’t think she’d eaten in days. And you know what she did? As soon as the bill came for our dinner, she asked how much she owed me so she could be sure she worked it off. She was determined not to short me a cent.”
“Sounds rare and admirable,” Gabe said.
“She is rare and admirable. But…” Grabbing the extra roll of Christmas paper his mother motioned for, he handed it to her. “She didn’t take those clothes you bought her, Mom.”
Hannah glanced up from her work. “I spent a lot of time picking those out. Didn’t they fit?”
“Brent said they fit perfectly, but they qualified as a handout, and she won’t accept a handout. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”