Angel Mine. Sherryl Woods
problem. You’ll probably see him before I will,” she said.
He glanced toward the window, which faced the town’s main street. “Oh, I doubt that,” he said dryly. “Where’s your daughter right now?”
“With Henrietta.”
“Well, don’t look now, but Todd is about to join them.”
3
Todd always made it a point to stop by the Starlight Diner at the end of the day for a homemade meal and a chat with Henrietta. He’d developed a real fondness for her biting wit and her apple pie.
In New York he’d still be in the office at this hour, but out here he was on an earlier schedule. Because of the time difference, the New York offices of Megan’s empire were closed. Jake had her out of the studio here and home by midafternoon. Todd wrapped up his West Coast contacts shortly thereafter, then ate between five and six. There had been a time not so long ago when he would have considered that a late lunch.
Afterward, thanks to his disgustingly barren social life, he burned the midnight oil at home on the mountains of paperwork that never seemed to get done in the office. If it wasn’t for the frequent trips he made back East, the situation would have been intolerable. But Megan regularly trumped up excuses for him to fly to New York, so he could get his fix of decent restaurants, Broadway plays and dates with some of the women he’d left behind. Not that any of them had a hold on his heart. They were little more than stand-ins for the one woman he’d dared to love.
Still, in some ways, his time in New York was better than it had been before he’d left. He made it a point to see people, rather than holing up in his office night after night. Apparently he was simply the kind of man who found a rut to fall into no matter where he lived.
Ordinarily the sameness soothed him, but tonight he felt restless, the way he often did when the air crackled with electricity just before a thunderstorm. The sensation was so intense, he looked at the horizon, but there was no evidence of a storm building. That must mean the restlessness was purely internal.
He hesitated outside the diner and considered changing his routine by going for pizza down the block, then shook his head. Who was he kidding? He enjoyed having Henrietta fuss over him, and the new cook occasionally tried out recipes for something besides chicken fried steak or meat loaf. Of course, the cook did it at his peril, since most of the customers hated the experiments and Henrietta only tolerated them because he was the best cook she’d had in years.
When Todd finally walked in, he was startled to find Henrietta with a bright-eyed toddler trailing in her wake and chattering a mile a minute.
“I know you’re desperate, but isn’t she a little young to be your new waitress?” he asked, after giving Henrietta a dutiful peck on the cheek.
The girl was dressed in denim overalls and a bright green T-shirt. Her little feet were clad in colorful sneakers adorned with daisies. The cheerful appearance was at odds with her solemn expression as she stared at him silently. She gave the disconcerting impression that she was assessing him. Apparently he passed muster, because before he could guess what she had in mind, she’d lifted her arms.
“Up,” she demanded imperiously.
“You’d better do as she says,” Henrietta advised, laughing. “She’s only been here a couple of hours, but she already tends to think she’s in charge. My kids actually volunteered to go off and do their homework, because they couldn’t keep up with her. Her name’s Angel.”
Todd backed up a step. Why was it everyone was trying to foist kids on him lately? Granted, this one wasn’t an infant, but he wanted no part of her. Just thinking about doing as she asked caused a cold sweat to break out on his forehead. She was still too little, too fragile to be trusted to someone like him. He never saw any child under four without thinking there was tragedy and heartache just waiting to happen.
“Sorry, I think maybe I’m coming down with the flu or something. I probably shouldn’t get too close. In fact, I think I’ll go on home. I’m not feeling much like food tonight.”
Surely he could find something edible in his refrigerator. Hadn’t he bought a half-dozen frozen meals the last time he’d gone to the store, just for emergencies like this? Of course, he usually relied on those when the special here was liver and onions, but tonight’s turn of events was equally distasteful.
Henrietta regarded him with her typical motherly concern. If she was skeptical about his sudden illness, she didn’t let on.
“Any fever?” she asked, touching his forehead with cool fingers before he could retreat. “Nope. I doubt you’re contagious. Sit down and I’ll get you some chicken soup. If there’s anything wrong with you, that’ll cure it.”
“No, really. I’d better go.”
“Sit,” she insisted.
Filled with trepidation, Todd sat, keeping his wary gaze on the little girl who continued to stare at him with evident fascination even after Henrietta had disappeared into the kitchen. She inched closer.
“You sick?” she asked, head tilted, her expression sympathetic.
He nodded.
“Want Mama to give you a hug?”
“No, thanks,” he said, though he had to wonder about “Mama.” Who was she? Where was she? Surely Henrietta hadn’t taken in another stray. Folks in town were still talking about the way she’d adopted a pair of children whose parents had been killed. Henrietta hadn’t hesitated, partly because she felt some misplaced sense of responsibility for the tragedy, partly because those kids deserved a better fate than living with their embittered paternal grandmother, but mostly because that was just the way she was: kindhearted and generous. All things considered, the children were doing well under her care.
Todd glanced at this child. The intensity of her gaze was disconcerting. Something about her eyes, probably. An unusual shade of green, they looked oddly familiar.
He was still trying to puzzle out the reason for that when the door opened and a woman breezed in, her gaze swinging at once on the little girl. She seemed to freeze in place when she realized that the child was with him.
In that single instant, a lot of things registered at once. The woman had a mane of artfully streaked hair that had been tousled by the wind. He’d known someone once with thick, lustrous hair that exact color. She, too, had dressed unconventionally in long, flowing skirts, tunic-length tops and clinking bracelets. His gaze shot to this woman’s face. Even with the oversize sunglasses in place, there was no mistaking her identity. He went into a form of shock, followed by an inexplicable lurch of his heart.
He’d been over Heather Reed for some time now, or so he’d thought until just this second. He’d dismissed the fact that she popped into his head with disturbing frequency. After all, she had started as an enchanting fling, a walk on the wild side when he’d first arrived in New York, fresh out of college and ready to take Broadway by storm. She’d touched the carefree part of his soul that he kept mostly hidden. He’d been drawn to her impulsiveness, her unpredictability, even as they had terrified him. She was so unlike any other woman he’d ever known, it was no wonder he couldn’t quite forget about her. They’d stayed together for six years, long enough for her to become a part of him. Long enough to show just how ill-suited they were.
He was still reeling from the impossibility of her turning up in Whispering Wind when the toddler beside him raced across the restaurant and threw herself straight at the woman.
“Mama!” she shouted gleefully as if they’d been separated for days.
Everything after that seemed to happen in slow motion. Heather scooped the child into her arms, then turned fully in his direction. She seemed a whole lot less surprised to see him than he was to see her.
“Hello, Todd.”
She spoke in that low, sultry voice that once had sent goose bumps down his