Chapter 4

Chapter Four

By the end of the day, Sophie’s temples were pounding and her eyes were pulsing.

She shouldn’t have let her anger get to her. It wasn’t like her. She’d spent her life tamping down thoughts and reactions where her father was concerned. But the last couple of days had been a lot. Between the offer for the bookstore and her mother’s bombshell of moving to Florida, conversation about her father had just been the icing on her emotional cake.

She stared at the large flower arrangement on the counter and felt the guilt creep up. Whatever Hank was, he hadn’t deserved how she’d treated him. And she’d been more than surprised when the delivery man had come in with the flowers. They were beautiful and lush, in shades of yellow and pink and purple, and she knew every one of them was out of season and had probably cost a fortune. And somehow she’d known that they were from him even before she’d opened the card attached.

The card had been handwritten and was short and to the point.

I’m sorry,

Hank.

The bell tinkled above the door and she snapped out of it, waiting to see who’d just entered. But the store was empty of customers.

“That’s the last one,” Cori said, locking the door to the shop.

Cori had worked in the bookstore for several years, even before Sophie had taken over from her mother.

“That’s everyone?” Sophie asked.

“The last,” Cori said. “And not a moment too soon. You’re asleep on your feet. Mrs. Crawford finally stopped asking you who sent the flowers after you ignored her for the third time.”

Sophie winced and rubbed the back of her neck. “Maybe I was asleep. I’m not sure I even noticed her come in.”

“Which is hard to do,” Cori said. “She’s got a voice like a freight train. Why don’t you go on home and let me lock up? I can see that headache all over your face.”

“Oh, no,” Sophie said. “I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

“I’m not alone,” she said, looking at Sophie like she’d grown a second head. “Kevin is still here. He’s finishing putting out the stock upstairs. He and I can leave together. We’re heading the same way.”

“I thought Kevin was off at five?” Sophie asked.

“He decided to stay and finish the stock after Freddie called in sick,” Cori said, looking concerned now. “He told you that.”

“Right,” Sophie said, vaguely remembering the conversation. “I need a nap. I haven’t slept well the last couple of nights.”

“You need more than a nap,” Cori said, bundling Sophie into her jacket and zipping it for her like a child. “You need some hot tea, a hot bath, and a solid twelve hours. And no wonder.” Cori grabbed Sophie’s bag from under the counter and put it on Sophie’s shoulder before shuffling her toward the door. “You’ve been burning your candle at both ends. Then with the news about your mother. I can imagine you’re a little overwhelmed. You should leave the flowers here. You’ll get to enjoy them more.”

“But I need to?—”

“Nope, you don’t need to,” Cori insisted. “I’m opening tomorrow and Kevin will be here to help. I don’t even want to see you until after lunch. You can catch up on errands, do some Christmas shopping, or eat ice cream from the carton and stay in bed. Your choice. But you do no one any good if you can’t even stand up on your own two feet.”

Sophie knew what Cori was saying made sense. And it was hard to think about anything with her head pounding like it was. Maybe she had a fever. She was feeling rather flushed. But there was no time to be sick. She had to figure out a way to get the money she needed so the city didn’t shut down the bookstore.

“You don’t look so good,” Cori said, worry knitting her brow. “Your eyes are kind of glassy. Maybe you don’t need to walk home.”

“I’m fine,” Sophie said, and unlocked the door of the shop herself. “I just need some sleep. I’m going home.”

And then Sophie opened the door and walked right into Hank.

He brought his hands up and put them on her shoulders to steady her. “Whoa, there,” he said.

“I’m not a horse,” Sophie said.

She didn’t remember him being so tall. She was having to look up way too far to meet his gaze.

“Of course not,” he agreed. “I was hoping to catch you on your way out. I owe you a meal.” Then he stopped to look at her, his eyes narrowing. “Or maybe not. You don’t look so good.”

“Nice,” Sophie said. “Just what a woman wants to hear.”

He brought his ungloved hand up to her forehead and she leaned against him, his icy skin welcome against her face.

“I think you’ve got a fever,” he said.

“Does that mean you think I’m hot?” she murmured under her breath, trying her best to move around him. “Why are you so big?” She poked him in the chest. “Your chest is really hard.”

“I think you’re delirious,” he said. “I’ve got my truck parked out back. Why don’t I give you a ride home?”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Cori said, pushing Sophie into Hank’s arms. “And don’t come in tomorrow. We’ve got things covered.”

Sophie was too tired to argue. Hank put his arm around her shoulder and guided her down the sidewalk to the end of the street.

“People gonna talk,” she said, but leaned against him. “My mother is going to call.”

He chuckled and she felt the vibration in his chest. It was nice.

“Don’t worry. Mine will too.”

By the time they made it to his truck Hank could feel the heat of her fever through his clothes. He hoisted her into the cab and buckled her seat belt, and he realized she was out cold. Her face was pale, and her body seemed smaller and more fragile than usual. He closed the cab door, but she didn’t stir, and he hurried around to the driver’s side and got in.

It was a short drive to Sophie’s house. Winter Street was in the older part of town, and since downtown was closed to car traffic, he turned the opposite direction and then went a block out of the way before turning back toward Sophie’s house.

The polish of the downtown businesses faded as he drove through the old part of Laurel Valley, and snow-covered fir trees and Craftsman style houses replaced them. He pulled in front of a neat white house with a small porch and a roof that sagged under the snow. There was a short black iron fence around the postage stamp-sized front yard and there were black shutters on each side of the front windows.

He could shore up the porch roof for her easily enough, and he made a mental note to do so as he went to get her out of the truck. She hardly stirred when he picked her up in his arms, but she did cuddle in close once she was there. She looked…softer while she slept. More delicate. But he knew she was anything but. He’d seen her strength that morning. No wonder she was sick and exhausted. That kind of fortitude was a heavy burden to carry around by yourself.

He pushed the black gate open with his knee and it squeaked loud enough for the neighbors down the street to hear. He’d add that to his list as well. She stirred in his arms and he instinctively held her closer. But she pushed against him so she could see his face. What he saw made his lips twitch.

“What are you doing?” she asked suspiciously.

“Carrying you so you don’t fall down,” he said.

“I can walk,” she said. “I’m a grown woman.”

“Uh-huh,” he agreed. She didn’t look like she had the strength to hold the weight of her hair up, much less her whole body. “I called my brother on the way over. He’s going to come see you in a few minutes. But my diagnosis is you have the flu.”

“Ridiculous,” she said. “It’s three weeks until Christmas. I can’t have the flu.”

“I’m not sure what one has to do with the other, but maybe you could tell me how to get in your front door.”

“Oh,” she said, trying to think. “My brain is fuzzy. I keep an extra key behind the porch light.”

“That seems safe,” Hank said, shaking his head in wonder. This woman needed a keeper.

He adjusted her in his arms and reached behind the porch light to pull out a single key, and then he stuck it in the dead bolt and turned it easily.

“This is Laurel Valley,” she said. “It’s always safe. And no one even knows it’s there. Except you.” Her brow furrowed. “Maybe I do need to find another hiding place.”

He chuckled and put the key back behind the light. “Like where? Under the doormat?”

“Stop running,” she said. “Everything is starting to spin.”

Since Hank was standing perfectly still he wasn’t sure exactly what he was supposed to do next.

“You’re very strong,” she said, and his brows shot up as she started squeezing his biceps.

“Uh, Sophie?”

Her fingers walked up his shoulder and touched the spot just under his ear and he knew he needed to get her out of his arms. She wasn’t going to remember any of this once the fever broke. But he sure would.

“Guess what?” she asked, giggling slightly and then groaning when he moved into the house and shut the door behind him.

“What?” he asked.

“You’ve got to stop yelling,” she said, her hand going to her head. “I’m telling a story and you’re supposed to listen.”

“Sorry,” he said. “Carry on.”

“When Erma Winstock’s roof caved in, I watched you rebuild it.”

“Did you?” he asked, pleased at the thought.

He looked around the inside of the house for a first impression, and he found the house suited her. It was small and sparse and clean. She’d done some updates—a dark green wallpaper with delicate flowers above freshly painted wainscoting in the same green. The floors were original and well taken care of. There was a small dining room to the right and a living area to the left. In front was a narrow hallway he assumed led to bedrooms so he started heading in that direction.

“I can see Erma’s house if I stand just right at the kitchen window,” Sophie said. “I’d stand there drinking my coffee every day. I liked the way the muscles moved in your back every time you swung a hammer. You have a great back.”

He stopped and looked down at her, expecting to see a flirtatious look in her eyes or a sly smile, but her eyes were half closed and her mouth seemed to be moving of its own volition. The color had come back to her face now and it was flushed with the fever.

“And here I thought you’d spent all this time ignoring me,” he said.

“Oh, I wasn’t ignoring you,” she said. “You make my mouth feel like sawdust.”

He chuckled again and said, “Which way is your bedroom?”

“It’s the one where my bed is,” she said. “I need to take my jacket off. It’s hot in here. Maybe turn on the air-conditioning.”

“I think that’s the fever talking,” he said, looking into the two open bedroom doors. One was barely larger than a closet and had a desk, a giant wall calendar, and a treadmill. The other option must be her bedroom. “Here we go.”

Hank turned on the light and shook his head. He didn’t know how she functioned in a space so small. A double bed was centered on the wall with an ornate iron headboard and footboard. It was obvious she liked green. Her bedding was a soft shade of sage and the white reading chair in the corner had a blanket in the same color.

Again, her tastes were simple and neat and clean. The only clutter in the room was a pair of earrings she’d left on the dresser.

“I’m going to set you down,” he said, lowering her so her feet touched the ground. “Don’t move too fast now.”

“I’m fine,” she said. “Just need to rest my eyes a bit.”

“I think you need to rest more than that, sugar,” he said.

“Sophie.”

“What?” he asked.

“My name is Sophie. Not Sugar.”

His lips twitched as he helped her out of her jacket and tossed it on the chair next to the bed.

“Let’s get your shoes off,” he said, moving her to the edge of the bed and sitting her down gently. He bent down to pick up her foot and she went backward onto the bed.

“My feet are sweating,” she said. “So hot in here. Open a window.”

She wasn’t looking so good, so he opened the window a crack, just enough to let a breeze in, but not the snow. And then he made short work of her shoes and socks and got her situated on the bed so she lay right in the middle.

He thought she was asleep, so he took the blanket on her reading chair and covered her with it, but she tossed it off immediately.

“Too hot,” she mumbled.

The doorbell rang and he hurried out of the room and back down the hall to answer it before it disturbed her. He opened the front door to see his brother Colt and Colt’s wife, Zoe, standing on the porch.

“Thanks for coming out,” Hank said. “She’s back in the bedroom. She looks pretty rough.”

“See, I told you,” Colt said, looking at his wife and making her grin.

“So you did,” she said, leaning in to hug Hank.

“Told her what?” Hank asked.

“That you were in love,” Colt said. “You sounded like a crazy person on the phone. Only love does that.”

“I’m being a good neighbor,” Hank said, his skin going cold at the thought of love. Was he attracted to Sophie? Yes. Did he want to know everything about her? Absolutely. But love? Surely he would know if it was love.

“I heard you had breakfast with her this morning,” Zoe said, tongue in cheek. “My sources say it looked rather heated.”

Hank felt his cheeks heat, but wanted to protect Sophie and what she’d shared with him. “It was a private conversation.”

“Uh-huh,” Colt said, arching a brow. “And then I heard a rumor that the two of you were walking arm in arm down Main Street. Very cozy.”

“I was helping her get home, you dolt,” Hank said. “Aren’t you here to help?”

Colt grinned and winked at his wife. “Of course. Lead me to her. Maybe I can talk some sense into her and tell her some embarrassing stories about you. She seems a sensible woman.”

“I’ve always liked her,” Zoe piped in, giving him a cheeky grin.

It was a good thing he loved his sister-in-law. She and Colt were having much too much fun at his expense. And there would be retribution that only he as an older brother could give.

“Come on,” Hank said. “I’m worried about that fever.”

He led them back toward the bedroom where she was sleeping, and then he stopped in his tracks when he saw the bed was empty.

Colt’s eyes went to the window. “Dang, brother. You left such an impression that a feverish woman escaped out her own window just to get away from you?”

“Shut up,” Hank said without heat. “She said she was too hot and needed some air.” He stepped into the room. “Sophie?” he called out. “You okay?”

Water was running in what he could only assume was the bathroom, and then the door opened and Sophie came out. She’d changed into a pair of thin cotton pajamas and had a glass of water in her hand. She looked surprised to see three people standing in her bedroom.

“I was only gone a few minutes,” Hank said, shaking his head. “What are you doing out of bed?”

“I was thirsty,” she said. “And hot. Why are you here?”

Zoe snorted out a laugh. “You’re such a charmer, Hank.”

“You shut up too,” he said under his breath.

“Why don’t you let me take a look at you?” Colt asked, cutting in smoothly before things could get out of hand.

“I’m fine,” Sophie said, her eyes clearer than they’d been before he’d left to answer the door. “I just need a little rest and I’ll be fine. I’ve been a little overwhelmed lately and I think it all just caught up with me. Really, there’s no need to worry.”

She took a drink of water, but Hank noticed her hand wasn’t quite steady.

“It’s that time of year,” Colt said, moving toward her and guiding her back toward the bed before she could protest. “Freddie Lawrence came in this morning with the same thing. Doesn’t she work for you?”

Sophie groaned. “That’s all I need is all my employees out sick at the same time. I need to be there.”

“I heard about your mom moving to Florida,” Colt said, changing the subject. “That must have been a shock.”

“That’s an understatement,” she said.

Hank’s brows rose in surprise. He hadn’t heard that bit of gossip yet. No wonder she’d been so upset at breakfast.

“Moms can be a handful,” Colt said. “I know ours is. You grow up with them caring for you and having their undivided attention, and then all of a sudden you become an adult and they start getting a little rebellious. It’s like reverse teenage years. I think she’s paying us back for all the grief we gave her.”

Colt pulled back the covers on the bed and Sophie crawled inside.

“I’ve heard some stories of the things the five of you did as kids,” Sophie said. “You probably deserve it.”

“You’re probably right,” Colt said. “And you most definitely have a fever. A hundred and two point one. Hank, why don’t you and Zoe see if you can find some tea and toast, and give us a few minutes here?”

Sophie hadn’t looked him in the eyes since she’d come out and seen them all standing there. He couldn’t tell if the flush in her cheeks was from embarrassment of the things she’d been saying to him or if it was just the fever.

“But I don’t like tea,” he heard Sophie say as they left.