grimaced. Frank didn’t open the hardware store on Sundays. That was church and family day. But Travis didn’t need to know that Frank would have a fit if any of his employees worked on Sunday. Rusty had already decided she’d pay the kid cash under the table from her own pocket if she had to.
“We stock on Sundays,” she said, hoping God would forgive her for that blatant lie. “Store’s not open, but I could definitely use you for a few hours in the morning if you can come in.”
Relief washed through his eyes and his shoulders sagged. “Sure. No problem. I can come in at eight and stay as long as you need me.”
Rusty took a chance and watched his reaction closely. “Sure your mom won’t mind that? I mean, most folks around here go to church and spend time with their family. I’d hate to lose a good employee because your mom was upset over you working.”
His expression became tight, his eyes impassive, but they flickered just once as he replied.
“I don’t have a mother. My sister takes care of me and my younger sister. I like to help out. Eve—I mean she—works too hard. She won’t mind if I work a few hours. We could use the money.”
Rusty tucked that bit of info away and quickly moved on. Travis was extremely uncomfortable and she didn’t want to risk him bolting. Not that she was sure why it mattered. Hell, it would probably be better if the kid didn’t hang around too long because when Frank found out what Rusty had done, he’d probably wonder if she’d lost her mind.
“Okay, then. What would you like to eat? They have a great club sandwich. But they also serve up a pretty mean choke-and-puke burger. A boy your size probably needs the protein.”
Travis grinned. Just a brief smile that erased some of the shadows in his eyes. But just as quickly it faded, leaving a much-too-old-for-his-age man staring back at her.
“Choke-and-puke?”
She laughed. “Yeah. It’s a good thing, though. It’s what my brothers call a really good burger with lots of grease and cheese. Homemade. Not the processed crap you get at fast-food restaurants. Around here, home cooking is a matter of pride. How’s a good choke-and-puke bacon cheeseburger grab you? And it’s my treat. It’s the least I can do to thank you for taking so much work off my shoulders.”
“That sounds great,” he admitted. “And thanks, Rusty. For everything, I mean. This means a lot to me and my sisters.”
It was so tempting to grab him and squeeze. To hug him and tell him everything would be all right. But she resisted because she knew that when she was his age, such a move would spook her. It had taken Rusty a long time to realize that not everyone in the world was out to hurt her. And that love was unconditional and given freely. No strings. No repercussions.
But her heart ached for him. She knew what it was like to be afraid. To go hungry. To have far too much responsibility for someone so young. Thank God for Marlene and Frank Kelly. Thank God for them all.
“Hey, no sweat, kid. Like I said, if it wasn’t you stocking all this stuff it would be me. Frank puts in way too many hours as it is. He had a heart attack a few years ago, and his wife stays after him to take it easy. But he’s stubborn as a Missouri mule, and so we try to make sure he doesn’t overdo it. You’re doing me a huge favor.”
He grinned and then went back to pulling out tools from the box on the floor, carefully arranging them in their respective places.
With a sigh, Rusty turned away and checked her watch. Frank wasn’t due in until two. It had taken a lot of arguing on her part to convince him that she was perfectly capable of managing the store until he came in to work from two to closing time at six. By then she would have fed the kid, paid him cash and sent him on his way, and Frank would be none the wiser. Hopefully.
When she got back up to the front of the store, she went behind the counter to get her purse. If she called in the order ahead of time she wouldn’t be gone but a few minutes. She didn’t like leaving the kid, but the cash register would be locked and she’d lock the