Wounded Wings (Cupid Chronicles) (21 page)

Naomi’s heart clenched in her chest. She longed to go to him, to comfort him. But something stopped her. She didn’t want to intrude. But, more than that, red flags were raising in her mind. What could he have done that was so horrible that he needed to beg for this kind of forgiveness?

She gripped the doorway for stabilization as her world started spinning at the possibilities.

She needed to go. She wanted to stay. Her heart and mind battled.

“But, Father,” he continued, his body sagging to all fours. “If You can find it in Your heart to forgive me, to redeem me, to guide me, to
help
me . . . please show me how to forgive myself. How to control my heart.” He sucked in another greedy breath. “Because I think I may be falling in love with her.”

Oh, God.

She didn’t realize she spoke aloud until his eyes slowly slid open and pinned her with their eerie, bottomless gaze.

“I’m sorry, Eli,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean—”

He blinked and stood, saying nothing.

“Eli?”

He strode past her and left the room, leaving her staring at his back as he made his way to his tiny kitchen.

She followed and saw him eye the chili pot. “That’s why I’m here. Sharla asked me to bring it in,” she offered by way of explanation. “I’m sorry,” she repeated.

He ignored her and yanked a water bottle from the fridge, opened the cap, and chugged.

Okay. Awkward.

She paced toward the door, then spun around. “Eli.”

He said nothing, simply sipped his water again, then tossed the empty container in the trash.

“Eli!”

That finally got his attention and his heated gaze snapped to hers.

“I said I’m sorry. I really am.”

He studied her, their eyes colliding like opposing weather systems in a perfect storm. It was killing her. She had to know. “Who . . .?” She swallowed, dipped her eyes, then met his gaze again. “Who were you talking about? Who do you love, Eli?”

He still said nothing, just studied her with his deep, dark eyes.

“Eli. Please.”

He sighed. “Isn’t it obvious, Naomi?”

Her heart began to gallop like a wild pony in her chest. “Well . . . I . . .” A million thoughts crowded her mind. Should she tell him she loved him, too? That he had somehow taken up residence in her soul like—

“But I’m not what you think I am.”

Oh, shit. Back to that horrible thing. Was he a thief? A murderer? In witness protection? She could probably deal with that one.

“What do you mean?”

His earnest gaze seared her, seemed to be begging her to believe him. He swallowed, cleared his gaze as if making a decision to trust her. “I haven’t always been human.”

What?
What?

Even worse than she’d feared.

Her heart sunk to her toes—no, straight out of her body—as he continued to study her as if he was serious. He couldn’t be. No.

But as he blinked at her, sincerity shining brightly in his gaze, she realized he was.

God.

With her confused heart shattering in her chest, Naomi sucked up her dignity and her pride, and fled the apartment as fast as her sneakers would carry her . . . before he saw her tears.

Chapter 30

Oh, Father, he’d almost told her the truth.

Frustrated, Elijah spun around and ran a hand through his hair. What kind of fool was he? She’d never believe him!

He rushed back to his bedroom, yanked out his duffel bag, and started stuffing clothes into it. It was time to get out of New Destiny. He simply couldn’t face her again. Not after—

A loud banging sounded at the front door, bringing him upright. Had she come back? His stomach seized up.

“Eli?” Michael’s voice boomed through the solid door.

He ignored the big man and shoved jeans and underwear into the bag. He didn’t want to see another soul after he’d humiliated himself like that. It was bad enough that he had to beg Father like a man sentenced to hang, but for her to witness it . . . it was simply too much.

But something in her eyes, in her heart that shown there, he thought he could trust her.

Or was that his own wishful heart?

Stupid.

No human could understand angel ways. Nor should they.

Bang! Bang! Bang!
“Eli!” Michael shouted, his voice reverberating even louder. “Please open up. I know you’re home.”

Elijah hung his head, conflicted.

“Eli,” Michael urged, his voices softer. “Please. I’m just here to make sure you’re okay.” A heartbeat passed. “We’re friends, right?”

A pebble pinged in Elijah’s heart. Friends. He dropped the socks in his hand and faced the door. Silence greeted him and he wondered if Michael had left. Slowly, he made his way to the front and swung the door open.

Michael’s open face greeted him, his eyes somehow seeming to search his soul. “Are you all right, Brother?”

Elijah stared at him for several seconds, not sure what to say. Surely he had no idea what had happened with Naomi. So why would he be here? “I’m fine.”

“I think you’re a spectacular liar, but I just needed to check to make sure you were hanging in there.”

Elijah tilted his head, his mind rebelling at being called a liar. “Why’s that?”

Michael shifted his weight, studied his face. “Miz Naomi told me about Pastor’s wife and how the news seemed to affect you.” He stepped forward as Elijah’s heart hiccupped at the mention of Naomi’s name. “Miz Donovan was a real fine lady. It’s such a sad thing, her passing. It was real nice of you to go visit Pastor. He all right?”

“Um . . .” Elijah struggled to get words past the cotton in his throat. His time with Pastor would be forever etched in his mind and soul as a precious thing. A sacred time.

Something Heaven-sent.

Michael raised his eyebrows in question.

Elijah’s heart knocked. “Yes,” he managed. “Yes, he’s doing as well as can be expected.”

Michael smiled. “I’m glad to hear it. And you?” he asked again.

“I’m fine.” Elijah forced the lie though it about killed him.

“So you said. But I just want to be a friend.”

Images of Naomi’s face flashed before his eyes. The shock of what he’d told her, the sheer disbelief . . . the tenderness mere moments before. He knew then what he must do. What he should’ve done a long time ago, before things got so out of hand.

“Then would you do me a favor, Michael?”

The big man smiled. “Sure. Anything.”

Elijah spun around and rifled through a kitchen drawer until he found the envelope he was searching for. He drew out the wad of bills then handed them to Michael. “Here. Would you take this to Troy MacIntyre at the automotive shop? I’ve been saving and it should be more than enough for him to fix anything that’s wrong with my car now.”

Michael stared at the stack of money in his hand. “Your car?”

He nodded, resolute. “Yes. It’s high time I get out of this town.”

“He’s certifiable.”

Beau glanced up from the stack of reports in his hand. “Excuse me?”

Naomi suddenly regretted bothering him at work. But ‘not human?’ Really? She stepped closer to his desk and leaned down on both hands. “Nuts. He’s absolutely freakin’ nuts, Beau. You need to check him out because I think he might’ve escaped the looney bin and he could be dangerous.” She released a pent-up breath, hardly believing she was saying the words out loud.

Beau quirked a brow and slowly dropped the papers he held. “Who?”

She sighed. “Eli!”

His face registered surprise. “Eli?”

“Yes.” She glanced around to make sure no one was around. All clear. “He said . . . he said . . .” She dropped her gaze, unable to continue. She couldn’t say it. It was too preposterous. In all the time she’d spent with him—dinner, movies, planning the benefit, swimming . . . kissing—Eli just didn’t strike her as crazy. But . . .

“What did he say, Naomi?” Beau stood, his body language protective. No wonder he was such a wonderful sheriff. “And why do you think he’s dangerous?” He rounded the desk toward her. “Did he hurt you?”

Hot emotion flooded her body. Had Eli hurt her? Not the way Beau meant, but, yes, he had. And he was obviously mentally unstable. God, she was an idiot. She glanced away, ashamed.

Beau tipped her chin back toward him. “Naomi. Did. He. Hurt. You?” The words held an unspoken threat against Eli.

She swallowed and shook her head. “No.”

He sighed and dropped his hand. “Then why do you think he’s dangerous?”

She couldn’t say it. It was too ludicrous. “Please. Just listen to me. There’s something suspicious about him and I don’t trust it.” She let her eyes plead her case. “Can you check out his past? Find out where he’s from? If he’s, I don’t know,
wanted
for anything?”

He studied her for several agonizing moments. She felt him weigh his decision. “Please,” she begged. “I know you have the resources to do a thorough background check.”

He glanced away, probably thinking of the career he would be throwing away if caught doing something illegal for her. Her heart began to pound uncomfortably.

“Beau.”

He turned back to face her.

She pulled out her only trump card. “As a public servant, isn’t it your duty to protect the citizens of this town by checking into him?”

His shoulders loosened just a touch. He was gonna cave. She suppressed her smile. “Isn’t it, Sheriff?” she prodded.

“It would help if you’d at least give me a clue as to why you suddenly think a man that most of the people in this town think hung the moon is a Froot Loop.”

She grimaced. “Let’s just say I overheard something I wasn’t supposed to, and it sounds like he’s on the run from doing something awful.” She paused, hoping he’d let it go at that. By his expression, obviously not. “When he figured out I heard him, he said something that I won’t repeat, but trust me, it wasn’t rational. So either he’s crazy or on drugs. Maybe both. But, either way, you need to look into him.”

They had a stare down, arms crossed, neither saying more.

Beau finally relented. “Fine.”

“Thank—”

“But, only for public safety,” he interrupted her. “Not for you.”

Her mouth fell open.

“Well, maybe a little for you. I know you liked the guy.” He rounded the desk again and picked up his pen. “What’s his full name?”

She snapped her mouth closed. Yes, she’d definitely liked him. More than liked him, actually. But she’d have to get over it. “Um, I don’t know. Eli Smith I think.”

“Eli short for something?”

She shrugged. “Maybe ask Sharla. He would’ve filled out an application.”

He glanced up. “Yeah. If he was truthful.”

Her heart sank.

I think I may be falling in love with her.

God, had he been truthful about anything?

Chapter 31

He must’ve lied about everything.

Naomi had pretty much convinced her mind, if not her heart, two weeks later. And, still, no word from Beau. What was taking so long, anyway? Red tape, computer glitches, business hours, blah, blah, blah . . . he always had an excuse.

“I want you to steer clear of Eli until I know something definitive,” he’d said to her before she left his office.

No problem. She didn’t want to be anywhere near Eli Smith. Or whoever he was.

But two weeks was a long time in a town as small as New Destiny. She’d had to resort to some pretty fancy footwork and some diversionary tactics. And twice, she could’ve sworn the big dishwasher, Michael, was orchestrating things so she and Eli were shoved together. But she’d managed to get away.

She’d even heard through the grapevine that his car was nearly ready down at old Troy’s place. So maybe he’d be leaving soon.

Why was her heart so conflicted about that?

Frustrated, she ran a hand through her hair and spun around to study the view that had been the refuge of her trying college days.

Monument Valley.

The craggy sandstone buttes and shale rises in the muted browns and elegant reds and oranges of the desert called out to her dry soul.

She’d always loved the spiritual nuances of the earth in the Navajo Nation. The land, the people.

Today, she needed the peace.

She’d been unsettled ever since Ben Simon left town. The benefit had been a success. Ben seemed pleased with everything. He’d insisted on taking her to dinner before he left town, tried to steal a kiss—which she managed to avoid—and promised his article would be out in a couple of weeks.

That was any day now . . . and the wait was killing her.

She strolled around a bit more, feeling melancholy as she eyed the few couples embracing, the children skittering around, the general feel of belonging—except for her. She was alone. Heart and soul.

She swallowed, determined to be okay with that.

She sat on a bench and focused on one of the protruding buttes and its multicolored layers. Her cell phone chirped from her purse. Pulling it out, she read the text from Delaney.

OMG article out! U rocked it sister!

Naomi’s heart automatically started beating triple-time. She scrambled to her feet and rushed to her car. She needed to get home and read it. Her mind raced with the possibilities. What could it mean for Vi and the bakery? More importantly, what could it mean for repaying some of the debt Naomi owed her?

She sailed down the freeway, her brain spinning, her heart thrumming. About ten miles from town, her gas light came on.

“Damn it!”

She debated pushing it and heading home, but common sense prevailed and she stopped at the next gas station. A few minutes wouldn’t make a difference, after all.

She went inside to pre-pay and grab a drink. She smiled at the gap-toothed cashier and handed over her cash with a glance at the row of magazines. Her breath seized up when she spotted the
Arizona Country Times
and scanned the front cover until she found what she was looking for.

New Destiny—Food, Fun, Small town charm and hospitality—It should be your Arizona Destiny!

Her eyes darted back and forth between the magazine and the clerk, hardly believing they’d made the cover. “I’ll . . . I’ll take one of those, too.”

“Sure.” He plopped it on the counter and finished ringing her up.

She left in a daze and sat in the car staring at the cover, a beautiful, full-color photo of the bakery morphed with the ‘Welcome to New Destiny’ sign. Holy Moses.

She finally got it together and flipped to the article. Tears filled her eyes as images of the town came alive on the pages of the magazine. Emma. Maura’s laughing face as she served at the diner. The festival. Several surrounding attractions. But, by far, the centerpiece of the article was Vi’s Sweet Spot.

Naomi wiped her eyes and focused.

. . . Ms. Stevens and her assistant, Naomi Evans, have created a Mecca of delectable delicacies, including the best chocolate chunk brownies I’ve ever had the pleasure of tasting. You simply have to stop by and have a sweet treat on your way through this delightful town. It would be sacrilegious, in my humble opinion, if you did not.

In a shocked stupor, Naomi set the magazine down, pumped her gas, then set off for home.

She’d done it. She’d really done it.

Her mind continued to spin with the thought. The possibilities, the wonder. The
what’s next?

Without realizing how she’d gotten there, she pulled up in front of the bakery and studied the front window. She’d poured so much of her heart and soul into the place, and yet so much still felt . . . unfinished.

Why?

Behind the glass, she saw Vi move behind the counter, smiling to herself. She wondered if Vi already knew about the article. Naomi hoped it made her happy. She deserved a slice of the love that she’d brought her, and she hoped this was one small step toward repaying the debt she owed her.

Sighing, she slammed out of the car and pushed into the bakery, an automatic smile lifting her heart at the musical reminder of Paul’s love.

“Hi, darlin’.” Vi grinned at her after placing a tray of sugar cookies in the case. “How was your morning off?”

“Okay.” She steeled herself. “Did you hear? The
Arizona Country Times
article came out.”

Vi nodded and tugged off her apron. “I saw it.”

Something tumbled in Naomi’s gut. “You did?”

“I did.”

“You don’t seem very happy about it. He just about painted Vi’s as the next best thing to sliced bread. It should hopefully bring a lot of business to New Destiny. To the bakery.”

Vi pinned her with a gaze. “Is that what you want?”

“I . . .” She studied her. “Isn’t it what
you
want?”

“We’re not talking about me.”

Silence descended as the scents of sugar and vanilla, the familiar, filled the air. Crowded Naomi’s heart. She searched Vi’s eyes for any clue as to what she was thinking. What was happening here? “I don’t know what to say,” she finally admitted. “I did it all for you.”

Vi’s face softened. “Oh, sweetie. Why?”

Naomi sagged against the counter. “I just wanted you to be happy, that’s all.”

Vi sighed and rounded to her, placing an arm around her shoulders, enveloping her in her own lavender scent. “I
am
happy. Happier than I’ve ever been, in fact.”

Naomi shifted and met her eyes. “You are?”

Vi’s gaze dipped. “Honey.” She met her eyes again. “I’m sorry if you felt you had to work so hard to get some kind of imaginary success for this place. I wish I’d known because I could’ve saved you the trouble.”

That tumbling in Naomi’s gut became an avalanche. “What do you mean?”

“Baby, Sam and I are getting married and I’m retiring . . .”

Naomi felt the blood drain from her face and the world shifted under her feet. She gripped the counter behind her for support when her knees threatened to buckle. But her bones seemed to liquefy as Vi’s words began to truly sink in.

“. . . and I’m selling Vi’s Sweet Shop. I’ve already got an offer.” She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. “You can’t honestly tell me you have any desire to keep Vi’s yourself, can you?” She waited several beats.

Naomi’s silence must’ve been telling as she searched her heart for an answer. Vi’s expression softened and she took her hand. “Honey, I’ve had a good life here for a long time, but it’s time for me to move on. You, too. Life’s too short, and I won’t let you waste another day being miserable here.” She caught and held her eyes in an impenetrable, no-holds-barred gaze. “I know where your heart is, and so do you. Go. Fly the coup. It’s time, young lady. You owe me nothing, do you hear me? Nothing but your happiness.”