Authors: Michele Paige Holmes
“You’re telling me we’re in for a long trip.”
Ellen nodded. “Though if you’ll trade off taking Cadie and Sam with you in the moving truck, I’ll keep Chloe with me. She’s going to be the hard one.”
“How big’s the U-Haul you rented?” Ben asked.
Ellen gave him a blank look. “No clue. Dallin took care of that his last trip home. That was his job, whereas I’ve had the minuscule task of getting the house sold and packing all our worldly goods into boxes—while being a single parent to three of the most active kids on the planet.”
“Hasn’t been a lot of fun?” Ben guessed.
“None at all.” Ellen sighed. “Though I’ve sure gained a new appreciation for parents who really are single. I cannot wait for Dallin to be around for dinners, tuck-ins, middle-of-the-night episodes, church—”
“I get the idea,” Ben said, grinning at his sister.
“South America. North America,” Cadie called, running from one to the other on the floor map. “Want to hear my song about continents and oceans?”
“At home,” Ellen said. “We’re going out to eat now and to see the lights, remember?”
Cadie frowned, and Ben was afraid she’d start to cry again. He knelt beside her, intending to listen before any tears could appear, but another sound interrupted them. He turned around and was surprised to see the woman from the luggage carousel. She sat at one of a few scattered tables near the elevator, her elbow on the table, head held in one hand as she spoke into her cell phone—much louder than necessary, Ben thought.
“No. I don’t have the fraud protection plan.” Her lips pressed together in an angry line as she listened to the person on the other end of the call. “I see it would have been a good idea, but now I just need to
cancel the card
.” The nails of her free hand drummed impatiently on the table. “Twenty-four hours? Do you have any idea the charges that could be racked up in that amount of time?”
Ben tried to look away but was too entertained by the exasperated redhead clenching her teeth and rolling her eyes. Beside him, Cadie stared openly too. Only Ellen had made it to the elevator and stood waiting for them.
“I told you I
don’t have
the protection plan. So twenty-four hours
is
a problem for me.” The woman stood and began pacing back and forth in front of the table.
Ben turned back to Cadie. “Sing me your oceans song.”
“It’s continents
and
oceans,” she said brightly. “Did you know there are seven—”
“Fine. Wait the twenty-four hours,” the woman behind them shouted. “But I need another card within
the
hour. I’m starving and tired. My luggage is lost, and I’m in an unfamiliar airport in a strange city.”
Not my problem
, Ben thought.
She looks old enough that she ought to be able to keep track of her purse.
He forced his attention to Cadie, singing her way through the oceans of the world.
“What other option would that be? That rotten kid on the plane stole my wallet, so you tell me what I’m supposed to do.”
Wouldn’t ask that question quite that way if I were you.
Cadie finished her song.
“Ben?” Ellen called. Behind her the empty elevator closed. “On the way over I stopped at the Garden and put our name on the list, so we should probably get going.”
“I want to speak to someone else—someone in
this
country,” the woman raged on.
Ben stood just as she stopped pacing. “Hello. Hello?” Her voice escalated to a frantic pitch. “How dare you—” Holding her cell phone out in front of her, she began punching numbers then stopped, holding the phone to her ear. A second passed. Her voice plummeted to a whisper. “Dead.” Looking utterly defeated, she walked to the table and sank into the chair again. Leaning forward, she rested her head in both hands.
Ben started to walk past but hesitated as he saw her back tremble. Cadie slipped her hand into his.
“We should help her,” his niece whispered. “Mom says we should help everyone—even if they aren’t nice.”
Ben’s lip curved up at this bit of information. “Ellen always was a goody two-shoes.”
Cadie’s brow wrinkled as she looked up at him. “Doesn’t everyone have two shoes?”
“Yep. They sure do.” Nearly too late Ben remembered he had to watch what he said for the next few days. “What I meant was, your mom’s always been a good girl. When we were kids, she was always nice to everyone, while most of the time,
I
was in trouble.”
“Mom told me,” Cadie said, sounding much older than her six years.
“Really?” Ben’s eyebrows rose. He wondered if he was the bad example used every time Ellen’s kids did something wrong.
Don’t do that, Sam. You’ll end up like Uncle Benji.
He tried but couldn’t imagine Ellen saying that. She
was
too nice.
Raising his hand, Ben looked over at his sister and motioned for her to wait another minute. “Your mom’s right,” he reluctantly admitted to Cadie. “We should probably follow her example.” But he wanted nothing more than to walk away and pretend he’d never seen this woman, never overheard her plight.
That’s whatcha get for eavesdropping Benji
, he could hear his mother saying.
This one’s for you, Mom.
He remembered one of the many oft-told tales his mother had shared during his growing-up years. It was about President Spencer W. Kimball helping a woman and her young child at an airport when others looked on and were annoyed instead of compassionate. Years later, President Kimball had received a letter from the woman’s son—the son she’d been pregnant with during that difficult day—explaining how his mother had investigated and eventually joined the Church because of President Kimball’s kindness.
Not likely that’ll happen today.
Ben looked at the mop of red hair slumped over the table. He glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed she seemed upset. Several people looked her way as they passed then looked
away
, hurrying by with uncomfortable expressions on their faces.
Typical
. And he was no better if he ignored her too.
With an inward sigh, Ben gathered his courage and stepped toward her table.
Three
“Excuse me, but I couldn’t help overhearing . . .”
Sure, you couldn’t
, Tara thought.
Just like you couldn’t help staring when I walked past you by the baggage claim.
“Yes?” She raised her head and looked at him, though she was already well aware of her would-be rescuer. Probably in his early thirties, sort of tall, brownish hair, faded loose-fit jeans, and a
plaid
flannel
shirt. He reminded her a little of the loggers she’d seen on occasion in Washington.
Lumberjack man. My hero.
“I’m sorry . . . about your flight . . . and your wallet,” Flannel Shirt stammered. He pulled out his own wallet. “If you need a place to stay I could—”
“You can sleep on our couch. It’s bouncy. We jump on it all the time. I’m Cadie.” The little girl standing beside Flannel Shirt stepped forward, her hand held out.
“Benji?” A woman joined them.
Benji? He’s named after a
dog
?
Tara nearly jumped when the little girl grabbed her hand, pulling it up and down.
Sticky—great.
As quickly as possible she pulled away.
“This is my sister Ellen,” Flannel Shirt said, introducing the woman who’d joined them. “And I’m Ben.” He turned to his sister. “This lady’s wallet was stolen, and she’s sort of stranded here.”
Sort of? There’s nothing
sort of
about it
, Tara thought.
Who talks like that anyway? And “stranded” seems a little mild for the day I’ve had. More like sucked into the very jaws of he—
“She’s gonna sleep on our couch, Mommy,” Cadie said, jumping up and down. “And we can feed her pancakes for breakfast.”
Tara fully expected the woman to refute her daughter’s invitation, but to her surprise she—Ellen—turned to Tara with a smile on her face. “Of course we’d love to have you stay with us. Anything we can do to help.”
Flannel Shirt—Ben—suddenly looked uneasy.
“Maybe she’d be more comfortable at a hotel nearby,” he said. “After all, she’s going to have to catch another plane to get home.”
The thought of another plane ride made Tara feel as if she might be sick—again. But a hotel did sound better than sleeping on a bouncy couch in a stranger’s house. And she was already annoyed with the way the guy talked about her—as if she wasn’t right in front of him. She stood up as a reminder.
“I’m Tara.” From somewhere she dug up a smile for the trio. “I appreciate your offer,” she said, meaning it. After all, what else was she supposed to do at this point? She grabbed a pen and one of her business cards from her purse. “If you’ll write down your name and address, I’ll mail you a check for the hotel as soon as I get home.”
The tightness left Ben’s face, replaced by relief. Tara felt slightly insulted. Though she wasn’t as young as she used to be, she still prided herself on looking good, and it was a rare man who didn’t enjoy her company.
“Where is home?” Ellen asked.
“LA,” Tara said as Ben leaned over the table, scribbling his information on her card.
Ben nodded his head as if that explained something. “Ah . . . Big city girl.” He returned the card and pen to Tara.
Ellen shot him a look that said she thought he was an idiot. Despite her weariness and earlier irritation, Tara found herself starting to be amused by these two.
“Is this your first time in Salt Lake?” Ellen asked.
“Yes,” Tara said. First
and
last. “I was going to Denver, but a storm shut down the airport, and we were rerouted here. Only my luggage appears to have gone on to Colorado—or possibly Alaska. No one seems to know.”
“We’re going to Denver,” Cadie said, beginning a new round of jumping. “Our dad’s already there, and we got a new house. We have to move ’cause Grandpa died, and Daddy’s got to do his work for him now. Uncle Ben’s gonna drive our big truck with all our stuff in it.”
“I’m sure that’s more than Tara wanted to know,” Ben said. His wallet was still in his hand, his fingers on a credit card. He glanced around. “Maybe the easiest thing would be to find an ATM and give you the cash—”
“There’s really no need for you to stay at a hotel,” Ellen said. “Our house isn’t that far from here. And if you’re missing all your luggage too, you’ll need some clothes, a toothbrush, dinner.”
“Leave it to the Relief Society to bring a casserole into this.” Ben rolled his eyes at his sister.
“Benji!” Ellen looked shocked. “I’m just trying to—”
“Help. I know,” Ben said. “So am I, and clearly Tara would prefer a restful night’s sleep at a hotel to the craziness at your house. I mean, you’re
moving
the day after tomorrow.”
“So?” Ellen asked. “Sure it’s a little chaotic at our place, but that doesn’t matter. I know I’d sure hate to be by myself in a strange city.” She grinned at Tara. “Men. What do they know about what a woman wants?”
Plenty—at least this one, this time
, Tara thought. There was no way she wanted to impose on this family—or have them impose on her and her space, which right now was feeling pretty cramped. The little girl, Cadie, had taken to skipping in a circle around the three of them.
“I appreciate your offer,” Tara began, intending to explain that she
would
in fact prefer a hotel room to herself. But seeing Ben’s stricken expression, she paused. He looked, for all the world, just like she’d felt on the plane today.
His fingers went to his shirt, as if to loosen the collar that was already unbuttoned. His face flushed as if he was suddenly hot. He was definitely annoyed, his mouth turned downward and his forehead pinching together between his eyebrows.
What’s his problem?
she wondered.
It isn’t like I came up and started talking to him.
Though she guessed that about now he was thinking he was sorry he’d spoken to her.
Is he afraid of being around women? Of me? Or just annoyed? What did I do?
Tara weighed the peaceful night at a hotel against the challenge this man presented. It was odd and oddly upsetting to her that he so obviously wanted her to go away.
It’s less than twenty-four hours
, she reasoned.
And if he is uncomfortable around women, I could be doing
him
a service if I stick around.
She stared at Ben, trying to catch his eye. “Your sister is right. It would be much nicer to stay with your family than at a hotel.”
She could have sworn his jaw dropped.
Thought you read me different, didn’t you?
she thought smugly, feeling suddenly rejuvenated, energized with the mystery of Lumberjack Ben.
* * *
Ellen maneuvered her minivan into a spot in the parking garage then glanced over at Tara. “I’m so glad you don’t mind stopping. I’ve been promising Cadie for weeks that we’d go see the temple lights one last time.” She unbuckled her seat belt. “Now you’ll be able to enjoy them too. Temple Square is usually at the top of visitors’ must-see list.”
Must see the back of my eyelids soon
. Tara reached for the handle of the front passenger door. Ben was already there, holding it open for her.
“Thank you,” she said smoothly, as if she was used to such gentlemanly behavior all the time. Silently she racked her brain, trying to remember if she’d
ever
dated a guy who’d opened doors for her.
The parking garage was toasty, as was the building above—some sort of conference center—but the air outside hit her like a thousand icicles. It had been that way at the airport too. Tara took a sharp breath and actually felt the cold constricting her lungs.
Why would anyone want to live in a place like this?
Already numb, she jammed her fingers in the pockets of her Coffeeshop trench coat and walked between Ben and Ellen. Cadie, of course, seemed completely unaffected by the temperature and skipped along beside them.