Silver Thaw (5 page)

The gray gloom of dusk had descended by the time Jeb reached the end of Elderberry. A clapboard house sat back from the gravel thoroughfare, now overlaid with thick ice. He saw no tire tracks outside the garage and decided it must be a vacant rental. As he turned his truck around to head home, he noticed disturbed spots of snow in the front yard.
Footprints
. On the off chance that someone lived there, Jeb parked on the road and trudged through the white drifts to gain the rickety porch. He heard footsteps inside, and a moment later, a woman cracked open the door to peer out at him over a flimsy chain guard. All he could see clearly of her face was one brown eye, which regarded him with suspicion.

By then, Jeb had his introductory speech memorized. “Hi, I’m Jeb Sterling from over on Huckleberry Road.”

When he’d finished his spiel, she drew the door open a bit wider but didn’t disengage the chain. With a clearer view of her, Jeb realized she was the woman he’d seen walking her daughter to the bus stop. Saying she was pretty didn’t do her justice. She had a lovely oval face, a wealth of long dark hair, and beautiful coffee brown eyes. She wore a jacket with a blanket draped over her shoulders.

“My kitchen pipe broke last night and gushed water everywhere. I had no light to turn off the water main. Now the leak has stopped by itself. I think the line froze solid.”

Jeb guessed she had no source of heat with the power out. She looked halfway frozen, and her eyes conveyed a panic she was barely holding at bay. With temperatures
predicted to plummet to thirty below that night, he doubted she and her child would survive. He didn’t want to inquire after her husband or ask if she had one. Those seemed like rude questions to hit her with.

“I can come in and have a look if you’d like,” he offered.

She made a gallant effort to conceal the fact that she was shivering. If the house was in as awful condition as the front porch, it probably had little if any insulation.

“I guess,” she replied, sounding none too certain that it was wise to let him inside.

“Great. I’ll go get my tools.”

When Jeb returned to the porch, the woman didn’t unlatch the chain to allow him entry. “How can I know for sure that you’re truly a neighbor?” she asked. “My little girl and I live alone. I may not be the brightest person alive, but I’m not so dense that I’ll let a strange man into my house without verifying his identity first.”

Jeb nearly retorted that he guessed she and her kid could freeze to death if she thought that was a safer option. But he wanted to be inside before he told her that she and the child would need to stay elsewhere for a few days. He saw fear in her eyes, the kind that ran so deep it obliterated a person’s good sense.

“Smart thinking,” he said instead. Drawing his phone from his pocket, he called the Bradley place, and Myrna picked up. He explained the situation and asked the older woman if she’d be kind enough to vouch for him. Then he slipped the phone through the crack of the door. “Here, talk to Mrs. Bradley. She lives across the road from me and has known me for years. Her husband is out helping neighbors, too.”

With quivering fingers, the woman grasped the cell
phone. Apparently Myrna sang Jeb’s praises, because after returning the device to him, the young woman unfastened the chain guard and let him inside.

When Jeb stepped over the threshold into a small living room, he felt no rise in temperature.
Shit.
He scanned the living area and saw no woodstove, only electric baseboard heaters. A little girl with tousled dark hair was huddled on an old sofa with blankets and pillows piled over her. Her eyes, brown like her mother’s, grew as round as dimes when Jeb smiled at her.
Hmm. A woman and girl, living alone, with lousy heaters. No tire tracks in the driveway, either, to indicate that this gal owned a car. Could she be my message writer?

His brows snapped together in a frown when he saw the thick sheet of ice that had formed on the kitchen floor. “You stay here, if you don’t mind,” he said to the woman. “I’m wearing shoe chains and won’t be as likely to slip.” He glanced down and saw that she wore only socks, one with a hole in the toe. “Chains really help.”

Upon entering the kitchen, Jeb saw that a wall pipe under the sink had frozen and burst. There wasn’t a whole lot he could do except find the water main and turn it off, which would prevent further flooding when things thawed.

He scanned the kitchen. His livestock had better digs. Even so, this woman had tried to make it into a home, with ruffled curtains at the window, red apple canisters on the countertop, a teapot clock on one wall, and cute magnets on the refrigerator. His gaze jerked to the table, where a pink tablet—a very familiar pink—lay next to a vase of fake flowers and an empty cast-iron skillet. Focusing on the stationery, he saw a stack of slender strips resting on top.
No question; she’s my message writer
.

This was no time to think about that. He had more urgent matters to focus on. “Ma’am, where is your pump house? I need to turn your water main off.”

She gestured with a hand that was faintly blue from the cold. “Out behind the garage, but if you do that, we won’t have anything to drink or be able to use the bathroom.”

Jeb knew that there was no way she would get a drop of water out of those frozen pipes. If it fell to below thirty tonight, this woman and her child could freeze to death. Her wary posture warned him not to say anything about that yet. He’d deal with relocating them when he returned to the house.

Amanda yearned to dive back under the covers with Chloe, but she couldn’t until the man left.
No drinking water.
No toilets
. She studied her daughter, who had gone quiet. That worried Amanda. Chloe always chattered nonstop, falling silent only when she was asleep. Was the child getting hypothermic even as Amanda studied her? Panic rolled over Amanda. She couldn’t think what to do. Her brain felt as frozen as the water on the kitchen floor. Eyes dull, Chloe stared at Amanda.
Present physically but disconnected mentally.
Amanda felt the same way.

She flinched when the front door opened behind her. Her feet had gone numb in the damp socks, and she couldn’t trust her balance as she turned to face the man. He stood well over six feet tall and looked huge in a tan jacket almost the same tawny color as his hair, cut short and lying in lazy waves over his forehead. Chiseled features, a strong jaw, and hazel eyes. Standing with his feet spread and his knees locked, he exuded strength. She’d been on the receiving end of male strength often enough to be wary, no matter what his neighbor lady said.

“I don’t want to be rude and ask personal questions,”
he began, “but this is a situation that leaves me no choice. Do you have a relative or friend in the area who has a nonelectric source of heat that you can bunk with until the power is restored?”

Amanda’s mind got stuck on “nonelectric.” She stared up at him, trying to think, but her gray matter seemed to be misfiring. “Pardon?”

His gaze sharpened on her face as he repeated himself. This time Amanda heard his question, but it took her a moment to answer. “No, I’m new to Mystic Creek, and I have no family here.”

He sighed. “Well, ma’am—” He frowned. “I’m sorry. I don’t recall your name.”

“Amanda Banning.”
At least I remember that
.

“Well, Ms. Banning, I’ve got to get you out of here to someplace with heat. You and your little girl can’t stay here.” He planted his fists on his hips, letting her know that he didn’t plan to take no for an answer. “If you have no friends or family in town, your only option is to stay at a motel or B and B with a backup generator.”

Amanda couldn’t afford a motel room, not even for one night. She and Chloe would have to find another rental unless her landlord responded to her calls and paid for repairs. This house was no longer livable.

“I don’t have the money for a motel.” Amanda’s voice sounded hollow even to her.

“I’m sure some shelters have been set up. A lot of people have no heat, and churches with backup power have probably opened their doors. I can call the local authorities to find out where you might go.”

Amanda’s heart skipped a beat. “Authorities?”

“The sheriff’s department,” he explained.

Amanda wanted nothing to do with cops. What if the
shelter made the television news and Mark saw her or Chloe’s face?
No, no, no
.

“I don’t think that’s a good plan,” was all she could think to say.

*   *   *

Jeb studied Amanda Banning in bewilderment. She’d referred to herself as being stupid in some of the notes, and right then, he couldn’t argue the point. She didn’t seem to be tracking. He shifted his gaze to her hands, which were blue with cold. Maybe her body temp had dropped too low. He glanced at the little girl and noted that her expression had gone blank. No way could he leave them here, absolutely no way.

“You can’t stay here tonight. If you can’t afford a motel, I’ll lend you some money.”

She shook her head. “I can’t accept a loan. I may not be able to pay it back.”

Jeb hesitated, then decided to jump in with both feet. “My home is large, and I have a backup generator, so you and your daughter will be warm there.” When her eyes widened, he added, “And you’ll be safe as well. In Mystic Creek, neighbors help each other out. Myrna, the lady you spoke to on the phone, lives right across the road. Her husband, Tony, is a nice fellow. It would be good for you to get to know them. Then you’d have at least three friends in town, including me. What do you say?”

She shook her head again. “You may be my neighbor, but you’re also a total stranger. I can’t even remember your name.”

“Sterling, Jeb Sterling.” He considered putting her and the child up in a motel despite her objections. He could leave her with enough cash to eat out. But that was problematic because only one of Mystic Creek’s motels
had an eatery next door, and that was a pizza parlor called Wood Fyre Delights, open for only lunch and dinner. He couldn’t let them walk any distance in this weather. “Do you have a car?” he asked, as if he didn’t already know the answer. Right now wasn’t the moment to tell her he’d received at least fifty of her messages, which had revealed things about her that she wouldn’t wish him to know. She was giving him enough trouble as it was.

“No. I’m saving for one, though.”

“Well, saving for one isn’t the same as owning one. The conditions outside are treacherous. Even if I put you in a motel, you could slip and get hurt trying to reach a café. You’ll be safest at my place. My cupboards are well stocked and so is my freezer. There’ll be no shortage of food or heat.”

“I explained why that isn’t—”

Jeb cut her off. “Your only other option is to find a shelter.” He pulled his cell phone from his pants pocket and looked in his contacts for the nonemergency number to the sheriff’s office. He dialed it often to talk with his brother Barney, who was a deputy and often got desk duty. “I’ll just call and find out where I can take you.”

“No, please, don’t!”

Jeb knew why Amanda Banning wanted no contact with the authorities. She was hiding from a maniacal husband. He doubted she would be risking exposure if she went to a shelter, but he couldn’t discount the possibility entirely.

“Then you have to collect a little clothing for you and your daughter,” Jeb said, injecting firmness into his tone. “I’ll take you to my place. Yours was the last house on my route, so I can build a fire to get you both warm and
throw a hot meal together.” He kept his finger poised over the nonemergency number. “This is an either-or situation, and in any case, you can’t stay here. I won’t allow it.”

Her chin came up. “We’re not your responsibility.”

“You became my responsibility the instant I walked into this freezing house.”

“I’m a full-grown woman, and I—”

“Then behave like one.” Jeb knew that was harsh, but he was past caring. “Think of your child. Look at her. Do you honestly believe she’ll survive another night here?”

Jeb broke off. As he watched her struggle to make a decision, he recalled Tony’s comment that she must be as ugly as a fence post if she had to throw messages into the wind in search of a man. Tony had guessed wrong. Jeb couldn’t see a single homely thing about her. She had beautiful brown eyes, large, expressive, and edged with thick, dark lashes. A dainty nose, straight-bridged and just right for her oval face, thrust from between her arched brows. Her mouth, soft and full, sported an upper lip defined in a perfect bow. She’d drawn her long mahogany hair back into a ponytail. With the blanket draped over her shoulders, he could see little of her figure, but he suspected her body was as lovely as her face. She wore no wedding ring, but because of her notes, he knew that she was married and trying to save money to get a divorce.

A smile twitched at the corners of Jeb’s mouth. She’d wished for a hero to keep her and her daughter safe, and she’d just hit the jackpot. She made him think of that dove he’d found frozen to death in the ice just before dawn. He’d been too late to save the bird, but he was here in the nick of time to help this woman.

*   *   *

Amanda remembered how the old lady on the phone, Myrna somebody, had raved about what a trustworthy man Jeb Sterling was. She had gone beyond feeling cold to a strange apathy. Sterling was right; Chloe might die tonight if Amanda insisted on staying in this house. Still, he was a big, broad-shouldered man. Being close to him frightened her. But then, after living with Mark, she’d probably be afraid of Peter Pan.

“All right,” he said. “Let me make this simple for you. You’re coming to my place for the night. I’ll cook supper while you and your daughter sit in front of the fire. If you’re worried that I’ll get out of line, I’ll invite my mom or one of my sisters over to spend the night. Then you should feel safe. This is a bad situation, and I don’t blame you for feeling wary. It’s only smart. But these conditions are deadly. Which is riskier, gambling on me or the weather?” He fiddled with his phone and then turned the face toward her. “You see that forecast? Right now, it’s twenty below, but another storm is moving in. This is going to feel warm compared to what we’re going to see later.”

“The power may come back on,” she reminded him.

“Lines are breaking everywhere. The power crews are working around the clock to restore electricity. People’s lives are at risk. But they can repair lines and transformers only so fast. Are you really willing to bet that your electricity is going to come back on?”

“All right,” she heard herself say. “I’ll get us a change of clothing.”
And my money
.

“Get more than one change of outfits,” he said. “Enough to last you for a few days, just in case this next storm does even more damage.”

Amanda went over to hug Chloe close. “Mommy is going to pack us an overnight bag. This nice man is taking us over to his house where we’ll be warm and safe.”

Chloe pressed her face against Amanda’s shoulder. In a whisper, she asked, “What if he’s mean like Daddy?”

Amanda’s heart panged. “Oh, sweetie, I don’t think he is.”

“You didn’t think Daddy was, either.”

“That’s true.” Amanda saw no point in denying it. She’d made a horrible mistake by marrying Mark. “But even if this man isn’t nice, we won’t be cold or hungry at his house. Mommy thinks we’ll be much safer there than we will be here.”

“Okay.” Chloe wiggled away to huddle under the covers again.

Amanda saw that Jeb Sterling stood with his tawny head bent as if he found the worn rug fascinating. She knew he’d overheard their conversation. Oh, well. Now he’d ask her dozens of questions. The thought gave her a dull headache. She stopped to fetch her still-frozen shoes, considered donning dry socks, and then decided the effort would be pointless. Once in the truck, her shoes would thaw and make her socks wet again. She didn’t have enough pairs to waste on a few minutes of comfort.

She stopped dead outside the bathroom, where a layer of ice reached into the hallway.
Another broken pipe
. A wave of anger at her landlord swept through her, but she was too cold to sustain it. When the storm passed and the power came back on, she’d have no choice but to move.
There goes my car fund, my divorce fund, and Chloe’s first real Christmas
.

Poised at the edge of the ice, she heard the chinks of Jeb’s shoe chains as he approached behind her. “I can get
toiletries for you,” he offered. “If you try to walk on that, you’ll fall and bust your ass.”

Amanda shot him a startled look. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. I could have said that in a nicer way.”

Under Mark’s tutelage, Amanda had learned every filthy word known to mankind, and never once had Mark apologized. “It’s okay.” She told him where to find their toothbrushes, toothpaste, and her deodorant. When he asked where she kept her cosmetics, she replied, “I don’t wear makeup.”

He glanced sideways at her. “It’s a good thing you don’t need any, then.”

Amanda wanted to ask what he meant but decided she didn’t want to know. If he meant she was pretty, she knew better, and her question would throw up more warning flags. If he meant she was so ugly that cosmetics wouldn’t help, she’d heard it before and didn’t wish to hear it again.

While he gathered bathroom stuff, Amanda hurried through the bedrooms to collect clothing, which she stuffed in pillowcases. In short order, she met Jeb in the hallway, ready to leave with him. Hands down, it was one of the craziest things she’d ever done. She’d reclaimed her butcher knife, which she’d kept hidden under her mattress. If he tried to harm Chloe, Amanda would stab him. She would never allow anyone to hurt her baby again—never.

She heard him talking as she returned to the living room to collect her daughter. For a moment, she thought he was speaking to himself, but then she realized he had called someone on his cell phone.

“I’m wrapping it up,” he said. “I’m taking a lady and her little girl to my place for the night. How are things
going for you guys?” A brief silence. Then, “Good. If you’re as tired as I am, it’s time to call it a day.”

*   *   *

Jeb’s truck heater had barely coughed to life when he pulled up in front of a huge post-and-timber home. Chloe, perched in the middle of the back bench seat, stared at the house as if it were a mansion.

“You live here all alone?” Amanda couldn’t resist asking.

Jeb grinned. “I had plans to get married and have a family when I built it.”

“Did your fiancée break your engagement?”

“Never engaged,” he replied. “Never even came close. The right lady hasn’t come along.” In the deepening dusk, his gaze held hers. “Now that I’ve answered a personal question, you owe me one.”

Amanda didn’t want to lie, but she also didn’t wish to appear secretive and arouse his suspicions. “What would you like to ask?”

He turned off the truck engine, opened his door to get out, which illuminated the cab, and replied, “I’m not sure yet, and I don’t want to waste my question.” He smiled back at Chloe, who was engulfed in a red parka. “I know your mom put bread sacks on your feet to keep them dry, but how would you feel about me carrying you to the house? It’s really slick out here, and I don’t want you to fall.”

Chloe sent Amanda a questioning look. In that moment, meeting her daughter’s gaze, Amanda, whose brain seemed to be working better now that she was breathing warmer air, remembered something that she’d left behind at the rental, an SD card filled with pictures of Chloe.
Important, so very important
. Without those photographs, she’d be powerless to protect her child
from Mark when she filed for divorce. How could she have walked away without them?
Calm down
. Even if they couldn’t live in that awful old house again, she’d be able to get the SD card later.