There was just a bit more chat—he apologized, she sulked—and then he signed off. Then he looked into the living room and met with Maxie’s glare.
“Why can’t you be deaf like other old women?” Tom asked her.
“You’re going to hell, you know. What did I tell you about lying?”
“What’s the worst thing that could happen? I could be forced to go hunting and not shoot anything?”
“I don’t even want to discuss it, except to say that you better not ever again volunteer me to entertain Darla for a weekend. Are you mad? Who would carry her bags?”
He laughed in spite of himself.
* * *
Nora was not experienced in love, not by a long shot. In fact, her limited experience was pretty much all bad. But she had developed better instincts since then and her intuition told her that she scared Tom Cavanaugh to death. He had prattled about responsibilities and friendly attraction and not getting serious all week—and yet couldn’t keep his hands off her. She found him lurking around the orchard all day long, waiting for his chance to pounce. And oh, my, could he pounce.
She pushed him away and laughed at him, but inside everything in her twittered and twinkled. He might not know what he was feeling, but she did. She was falling in love with him. Now, given the fact that her only experience with love was disastrous, she was not opposed to the idea of giving this a very long time to develop, even knowing that it might not work out the way she fantasized in the end.
What she hoped in her heart was that there might come a day that Tom found her and her children worth the effort. When he took her in his arms, she went to another planet. Everything inside her quivered and lusted and became warm. She melted inside for want of him. When he held one of her children, she became almost misty with sentiment—nothing in his behavior toward her or them seemed reluctant.
For four straight days at the orchard, he had found special moments away from other eyes and whether he realized it or not, he was romancing her. For the first time in so long, she had hope about many things—about getting on her feet, taking care of her children, living in a safe place, finding a sense of family and…and possibly the love of a good man.
And then on Thursday after work, she came home to find a notice posted on her front door. In one week her house, owned by a financial institution, would be auctioned. She was expected to move out as soon as possible. She tore down the notice.
The girls were still with Adie; Adie would’ve seen the notice on the door. Everyone in the neighborhood probably had seen it. With fear in her heart she went inside and flicked on a light. Then she lit a burner on the stove. By some miracle, they utilities were still connected.
She went to get her girls and Adie met her with a look of alarm in her eyes. “Nora, what does it mean?”
“It was to be expected, Adie,” she said bravely. “It’s not my house.”
“But what will you do?”
“I’m going to take the girls home, get them dinner and baths. And I’m going to think. The right answer will come to me.”
* * *
Maxie was working up an outstanding roasted chicken in the house and Tom was working late in his office, going over some of his online accounts receivable on his laptop. He deftly ignored emails from dpritchard—he didn’t have the time, nor the energy. He had some catching up to do—chasing a pretty woman around an orchard took time and cut into his workday.
He wanted this chase to go on forever; he was confident that sooner than later he would be able to convince her they could invest just a bit more in each other. He wanted her; no question she wanted him. He could negotiate and, what the hell, become her steady boyfriend. The thought actually made him smile just as he continued to believe he wasn’t making a real commitment.
He heard a car and for a moment he thought she was back for dinner. It was entirely possible. Maxie could have seen her in the orchard earlier or even called her. Nora and the girls