Trouble in Paradise - Hatcher, Robin Lee Page 0,1
out the angle of the entry wound. It all depends on how tall my murderer is and how short the victim.” She picked up her weapon. “It’s a trick knife. It’s got a retractable plastic blade. See? It’s harmless.”
Definitely odd, he thought as he watched her demonstrate how the knife worked. But cute, too.
Shayla pointed with the blade toward a wooden bench. “Would you like to sit down while we talk about your job offer?”
“Happy to oblige.” He took a step forward, then stopped and glanced over his shoulder at her. “I had a thought. Would you be interested in trading services? At least for part of your wages? I’m a good carpenter and plumber, and I guarantee I can get to it quicker than the guys in town. They’re always running behind.”
It would sure help his cash flow if she agreed to this plan. He needed a housekeeper, but ready cash didn’t keep regular company with a rancher.
“In fact,” he continued as he settled onto the bench, “I built those cabinets in the kitchen, and I was going to patch the roof. But then Miss Lauretta moved away. The place has been empty ever since. I didn’t know it was up for sale.”
“It wasn’t for sale. I’m Lauretta Erickson’s niece.”
That explained a lot. Miss Lauretta was also a strange one.
“Her great-niece, actually. Aunt Lauretta was my grandmother’s younger sister.”
“Was?”
“She passed away this spring.”
“I’m sorry. I hadn’t heard. She was a nice old lady. I liked her a lot.”
“She was the best.” Shayla looked toward the cedar shake roof of the cabin. “She left me this place in her will. Only, I remembered it as being in a whole lot better shape than it is now. Of course, it’s been twenty-some years since I was here for a visit. I was about seven or eight, so maybe I didn’t notice the things that were wrong.” She shook her head. “I wish I’d come again before she was forced to move away. She loved it here. I wish I’d …” She let her words drift into silence as her eyes filled with tears.
Nat didn’t say anything. He knew firsthand about losing someone you love. The hurt didn’t go away overnight. It took time.
Sometimes it took years.
Shayla turned her back toward Nat O’Connell, not wanting a stranger to see her tears. She didn’t want him feeling sorry for her or thinking she was weak.
But it was hard not to cry when she thought about Aunt Lauretta being gone for good. Even though they’d never lived in the same state—or seen each other often through the years—she and her great-aunt had shared a special bond, a unique understanding of each other. Aunt Lauretta was the only family member who hadn’t told her she needed to be practical and responsible. Her aunt had encouraged Shayla to follow her dreams, to take chances in life.
Until this spring, she hadn’t tried to follow that advice. It had seemed too impossible, something out of her reach. Moving away from her family. Writing a novel. Crazy ideas that were doomed to fail. But because of Aunt Lauretta, she’d been given a chance. She wasn’t going to waste it. If only to honor her aunt’s memory, she wasn’t going to waste it.
Her neighbor cleared his throat. “Maybe I should come back later.”
“No.” She pushed away her sadness. “No, Mr. O’Connell, I’d like to get this settled now if we can. I really do need a job. I’ve got to make repairs to this place before winter rolls around, but my funds are limited.” She waved a hand toward the cabin. “You probably have a good idea why I need the extra cash if you did work for my aunt in the past.”
He smiled. “Yeah, there’s plenty that needs done around here.”
For a moment, Shayla forgot the leaky places in the roof, the plumbing that failed with wretched regularity, the faulty lock on the back door and the wood stove that didn’t draw right. She couldn’t think of anything except Nat’s smile. It was charming, complete with dimples and one slightly crooked tooth.
And the rest of the Nat O’Connell package wasn’t bad, either. He was tall and lean, tanned and muscular. His thick black hair was disheveled from the cowboy hat he’d removed earlier. His brown eyes were the color of strong coffee, almost black, and the outer corners crinkled when he smiled, which he seemed to do often.
“Maybe I should tell you what I need from a housekeeper, Miss