Her Fresh Start Family. Lorraine Beatty
jacket tomorrow. Mid-April in Chicago was still cold, damp and sometimes snowy. Here in Southern Mississippi, the sun shone, and the flowers were blooming. It was a nice surprise, but she prayed there wouldn’t be too many more. She liked things predictable, controlled. Her first day had been anything but.
Glancing at her watch, and then up the street, she willed the cab to arrive. She was tired, cranky and hot, and all she wanted to do was get to her hotel room and shut out the world and everyone in it.
Bret Sinclair’s grin flashed through her mind. He was someone she definitely wanted to block out.
The only way she could survive these next few months was to keep to herself. She couldn’t risk getting emotionally involved again, because risking another loss of someone she loved would kill her.
It almost had the first time.
Bret finished straightening his desk, closed his laptop and prepared to leave for the day. As he pushed his chair under his desk, he glanced out the window and caught sight of someone below standing on the front sidewalk. Nina. He peered closer. She had her hands full of her briefcase and satchel again, and that monster purse she carried. What was she doing standing in the hot sun?
She was still there when he exited the front door. He glanced around but didn’t see a car or taxi anywhere.
“Are you waiting for someone?”
She jerked and emitted a soft gasp. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people.”
“Didn’t mean to. So, how did the first day go?”
“Fine, but I’ve got a lot of homework to do before I see my first patient tomorrow.” Nina checked her watch again.
“I noticed you’d been standing here awhile. I got concerned. What are you doing?”
“Waiting for my cab.”
Bret tugged on his earlobe. “Then you may have a long wait. Taxis here are not very reliable.”
“The dispatcher said the cab would be here in five minutes.”
“And how long ago was that?”
Nina hesitated a moment before responding. “Twenty minutes.”
“No surprise there. You’ll probably have to rent a car if you want to get around.”
“That’s not an option. I don’t drive.”
“At all?” His eyes widened, and a frown creased his forehead.
“No.”
“Well, how did you manage to get around in Chicago?”
“Public transportation, cabs, the EL.” She looked up and down the street. “I assumed I could hire a cab here. I didn’t have any trouble this morning.”
“You were fortunate. Don’t expect that kind of service every time you call them. They’re okay if you don’t have to be someplace on time. There’s only one taxi company in Hastings, and they’re spread pretty thin. They do the best they can.”
She shifted her case from one hand to the other. He could clearly see the fatigue etched in the pinched corners of her mouth and furrowed brow. In the heavy suit and jacket, she had to be melting in the heat.
“You can’t stand out here forever. Why don’t I drop you off. Where are you staying?”
She hesitated, glancing once more at her watch, clearly reluctant to accept his offer. The heat must have forced her to decide. “The Emerald Hotel, downtown Hastings.”
It was the most expensive hotel in the city. Didn’t she realize there were several other more reasonably priced places across town? He reached out and took the briefcase from her hand. “That’s on my way home. My car’s out back.” He gestured toward the walk along the side of the building.
“All right. Thank you.”
He opened the door of his dark SUV and tossed a pink jacket into the back seat so she could sit down in the front. Safely buckled in, he started the engine and upped the fan speed on the AC. He stifled a grin when she sighed and unbuttoned her jacket to allow the cool air to wash over her. Adjusting to the heat in the Deep South took a lot of folks by surprise. He drove in silence along the Campbell highway, getting caught by every traffic light. When he turned off onto Franklin Street, he couldn’t stand the quiet ant longer. “Kitty said you’ll be here for three months, while they’re overseas.”
“Yes.”
“I guess moving to Mississippi from the Windy City is a bit of a culture shock.”
“I have to admit, I wasn’t prepared. Kathryn said this was a thriving city. I’d expected it to be much bigger.”
“It’s actually not that small. We have a university, a new mall, and several national companies have made Hastings their home base. But no, we can’t compete with Chicago in size, but we’re growing.”
“I’m sorry. That sounded rude. I’m just tired.”
“I understand. Mississippi gets a bad rap most of the time. Give us a chance.”
He pulled up at the curb in front of the hotel, and she opened the door the moment he came to a stop. He wasn’t sure whether to be offended or take her at her word that she was tired and eager to relax.
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
He smiled. “You’re welcome. What time do you want me to pick you up tomorrow morning?”
Her blue eyes widened. “Oh, I couldn’t impose. I’ll call the cab company sooner.”
“You might still be late to work. Easier if I come and get you. What time do you usually start your day?”
“Eight thirty.”
“Perfect. I usually arrive then, too. See you tomorrow. About eight fifteen.”
Bret watched Nina until she disappeared through the elegant front door of the old hotel. She really didn’t like taking help from him, and he couldn’t help but wonder why. Some of her aloof attitude might be explained by being a Yankee. But he had a feeling there was more behind her standoffish personality. Something more serious than a change in regions.
If she allowed him to be her chauffeur, he might be able to figure her out and help her adjust. He also had a feeling she needed a friend.
As he entered his 1940s-Craftsman house, a short while later, he inhaled the aroma of something delicious that made his stomach growl. He found his dad standing at the stove.
His father glanced over his shoulder and scowled.
“You’re late.”
Bret was in no mood to do battle with his dad tonight. “A friend needed a ride home from work. It was on the way, so...”
“Where to? Timbuktu?”
“The Emerald, downtown.”
His dad scowled deeper. “That’s not on your way home.”
“It was today. What’s for supper?”
“Roast beef and noodles, and you almost missed it.”
“Where are my girls?”
“In the playhouse. Call them in. It’s time to eat.”
Bret headed toward the back door. He was thankful every day that his father was helping him raise his little girls, but there were things he and his dad didn’t see eye to eye on. Bret walked to the edge of the deck and stood straight as an arrow. “Hear ye. Hear ye. Are there any princesses on the premises?”
Squeals and giggles greeted him as two little brown-haired girls