Falling Like Snowflakes (3 page)

Riley nodded as he chewed.

“I hope Paige doesn't stay too late.” Paige ran Perfect Paws Pet Shelter. She dropped everything when an animal was in need.

“How's Aunt Trudy today?” Riley asked.

Beau wiped his hands and muted the TV as a commercial came on. “Looks like she's going to be laid up awhile.”

Aunt Trudy was the Callahan brothers' surrogate mom. She'd fallen on the ice yesterday in the Knitting Nook parking lot and fractured her leg. Now she sported a cast and an ugly outlook on life.

“That's why I called a meeting,” Zac said. “You're going to need to put in a lot of hours. I know we're all busy, but we need to figure out something.”

“I hired a few teenagers,” Beau said.

“But you'll still need people who can manage things when you're not there.”

“When's Aunt Trudy coming home?” Riley asked.

Their aunt worked part-time at the visitor center, but they depended on her to keep the house running, and on her spunkiness to keep things interesting. She hadn't let them down yet.

Beau shifted. “The doctor's hoping she'll be able to recover in a rehab center.”

Riley gave a puff of laughter. “Bet she loved that idea.”

“Yeah, it didn't go so well. But she'll need twenty-four-hour care, and we sure can't do it with the season almost here.”

“How long will she be in the rehab center?” Zac asked.

“If insurance approves it, several weeks. Her leg needs a lot of therapy.”

“There goes Thanksgiving,” Riley said.

Beau shot him a look. “Did you really just say that?”

“What about the visitor center?” Zac asked.

Beau shrugged. “They'll probably just shut it down till she's back on her feet. It's the slow season anyway.”

“I can put in some hours early in the day and on Mondays,” Zac said. “I know evenings and weekends are busiest, but that's peak hours for the restaurant too.”

Beau had a feeling staying busy was a priority for Zac right now.

“That's all right. That'll give me time to keep up with the business end and visit Aunt Trudy.”

“I'll work as much as you need me,” Riley said.

“You're still going to need more help.”

Zac was right. Beau needed to staff the gift shop, needed people to handle the tree shaker and assist customers with loading. And he needed enough employees to work shifts.

“I have a couple interviews this afternoon. And I was hoping Paige could help out,” Beau said. “Might be good for her to be on the farm, get a feel for the business.”

“Paige has her own business to worry about,” Riley said, his voice gruff.

Zac gave Riley a strange look, then popped open his Coke and addressed Beau. “You two getting serious?”

“Heading that way. Heck, she's practically part of the family anyway.” Beau had an instant gut check. They'd gotten off to a pretty good start, but things had been kind of . . . off between them lately. They were just busy, that was all.

Riley stood, wiping his hands. “I have to go.”

“What?” Beau said. “You just got here. We're having a meeting.”

Riley shrugged into his coat. “Forgot I promised old Mrs. Grady I'd look at her hot water heater. Sounds like you got it all figured out anyway.”

Wind tunneled through the room on Riley's exit. The door clicked shut behind him, and a moment later his truck started, the engine revving low.

“What's his problem?” Beau asked, frowning as his truck receded down the drive.

“Probably just tired.” Zac reached for another wing. “Don't worry, he'll be fine.”

Chapter 3

E
den hoisted the book bag higher on her shoulder. The wind picked up, blasting her with frigid air. Cold seeped through her thin jacket, chilling her to the bone. She knew Micah was no better off. They weren't prepared for Maine's brutal winter. Weren't prepared for any of this.

Her empty stomach twisted hard. There was nothing she could do about her car for the moment, but she could do something about their hungry stomachs. Spying a diner up the sidewalk, Eden headed toward it.

The sign on the glass window read F
RUMPY
J
OE
'
S
C
AFÉ
.

“Brrr! It's cold out there,” she said to Micah as they entered the restaurant. The smell of grilled burgers wafted over, and she inhaled deeply. “Doesn't that smell good?”

The restaurant bustled with the lunch crowd. Servers ran about in green aprons, filling coffee mugs and balancing trays. All the booths were full, but there were a few open seats at the counter.

Through the kitchen pass-through, a man in his fifties called out orders as he flipped burgers and dropped fries. A gray ponytail
hung from his white paper hat, and a pair of wire-rimmed glasses perched crookedly on his nose. Eden wondered if he was Frumpy Joe.

Micah's eyes darted around as he clung to her leg and to Boo Bear with equal fervor. At a server's nod, Eden pulled Micah to the empty stools closest to the door, casting another look around the place.

A young family of three, a gray-haired businessman squinting at the
Harbor Tides
, two middle-aged women laughing loudly. A scruffy-looking man stared back from a couple stools down. He leaned forward, his beady eyes sweeping over her.

She looked away as a shiver passed through her.
He's nobody, Eden. Just a random creepy guy.
Her grip tightened on the menu.

They ordered, then used the restroom while they waited for their food to arrive. Eden's mind was awhirl with plans. She'd check them in to the cheapest motel Summer Harbor offered, and over the next two days they'd both catch up on their sleep. It wasn't ideal, but she'd been so careful. Surely it was safe to lie low a couple days in this off-the-beaten-path town.

Her eyes aligned with the scruffy guy's, and she hastily looked away. She'd be glad to finish up here and get away from him. She'd had enough creepy guys for one lifetime.

Awhile later, Eden took the last bite of her burger and pushed back the plate. Micah's thin legs dangled from the stool, his Superman tennis shoes not even reaching the bar. He'd need a sturdy pair of boots. They both would.

“Anything else I can getcha?” Lines fanned from the server's kind eyes as she smiled. Her red hair was as fake as Eden's new blond locks.

“No, thanks.” Eden pulled her cap low, kept her eyes down.
Don't engage. Be invisible.

The server ripped the bill from the tab and laid it on the bar. As the woman headed back across the diner, Eden scanned the room. She'd thought they were safe before. She'd let her guard down, and look what had happened. She was beginning to think safety—freedom—was an illusion.

Just keep going
.

They were so close.

Micah dragged a thick french fry through ketchup and slid it into his mouth. He'd almost put away his entire meal and a glass of chocolate milk. It was good to see him eating heartily.

Suddenly he grabbed her shirt, his hand twisting frantically. His eyes widened on hers, his breathing coming fast and hard.

She set her hand on his. “What is it? What is it, baby?”

He whimpered, his intelligent eyes working hard to communicate something.

Had he seen someone? Her heart in her throat, Eden scanned the restaurant again. No one was looking their way.

Micah clutched his hands to his chest as if holding something. His brown eyes filled with tears.

“Boo Bear,” Eden said as understanding dawned.

Micah nodded.

“I'm sure he's here somewhere.” She grabbed the backpack from the floor and unzipped it, rifling through it. Not there.

“You brought him in, remember? You had him in your arms. We'll find him.” She looked under the stools, and then she remembered. “The bathroom. I'll bet you left him in the bathroom.”

She stepped off the stool, tugging Micah along, and slipped around the corner to the ladies' room, five feet away. She pushed through the door and opened the empty stall Micah had used.

Propped up on the toilet paper dispenser was the small blue bear in his little straw hat.

Sighing heavily, she turned. “Look who I found.”

Micah took Boo Bear and hugged him close. His blue fur had long ago turned nappy, his straw hat was frayed, and the vest was missing a button. But that bear had seen her boy through so much.

She stooped down and wiped away Micah's tears. His cheeks were baby soft, and his dark lashes were wet and spiky. His fawn-colored eyes were a mirror of her own, but the mop of black curls was all Antonio.

“See, he's safe and sound. Everything's going to be okay.”
Everything, Micah. I promise.
She held him close and stood, lifting him in her arms. He was growing up, his slender frame getting heavy.

She shifted his weight as she exited the bathroom and returned to the stools, already looking forward to a nice, long nap. Micah squirmed down to finish his milk while she reached for the book bag.

The book bag. It was gone. She spun around, scanning the area. It was nowhere.

She scrambled back to the bathroom, Micah's hand in hers. She was sure she hadn't brought it in here, but where else could it be? She pushed open the stall door, growing frantic. Maybe the server thought they'd left. Maybe she'd stowed the pack behind the counter.

That was it. Of course.

She dashed back out, her wobbly legs not quite buying in to the idea.

“Excuse me,” she called as the red-haired server passed behind the counter. “Did you see my book bag? I left it here on the floor.”

“Sorry, honey, I haven't. Sure you brought it in?”

“Yes.” The money. Eden's heart thumped against her ribs. All their money. She drew in a deep breath and ran a hand over her face.

“Excuse me?” a woman's voice called. “Are you looking for a gray backpack?”

Eden whirled to the booth. “Yes. Have you seen it?”

“I saw that man take it. The one who was sitting there.” She pointed to the stool. “He took the bag and left, just a few minutes ago. I thought you were together.”

Eden ran outside, Micah close behind. She looked up and down the street but saw no sign of him. A young lady was entering the shop next door.

“Excuse me,” Eden called. “Did you see a man go by just now? Dark coat, longish hair, kind of scruffy?”

“Sure didn't. Is there anything I can help you with?”

Eden drew a breath, then two, her breath vaporizing on the exhales. “No. Thank you.” Her racing heart fluttered in her chest.

Not long ago, a quick trip to the ATM would have fixed it all. Heck, she could have bought anything she wanted with a friendly smile and the flash of her ID.

But everything was different now. They had no money. No ID. Nothing but the clothes on their backs and a broken-down Buick she could no longer afford to repair. Panic welled in her chest cavity, a weight settling low and hard.

How could you be so stupid, Eden?

The bells above the diner door jingled, and the server appeared, crossing her arms against the cold. “Any sign of him?”

Eden looked again, her eyes scanning the sidewalks. “No.”

The woman put her arm around Eden's shoulders. “Come
back inside out of the cold, honey. We'll call the police, and they'll get to the—”

“No!” Eden pulled away. “I mean . . . it's okay. It's no big deal.”

“You want it back, don't you? Sooner we call the better, though. That guy's just getting farther away.”

The police would want her name, her address, her phone number. All things she couldn't give. She couldn't trust anyone. Especially not them.

“It's okay. I'll handle it.” Eden zipped up Micah's jacket, her fingers shaky and uncooperative.

“If you're sure. I don't mind making the call.”

“Thank you, but we have to be on our way.” Eden's eyes swung to the café's picture window. Her stomach dropped. The bill. She couldn't even pay for lunch. “Listen . . . all my money was in that pack . . . I'll pay you as soon as I can, and I'll be happy to—”

“Honey, trust me, Joe and I won't miss a few measly dollars. No worries.” She opened the door, her eyes flickering down to Micah, then back to Eden. “I hope you get your bag back.”

And with that she was gone.

Eden stared sightlessly down the street. They didn't have a dime to their name. Or a place to stay warm. The motel was an impossible dream now. Maybe they could go back to the garage and sleep in the car tonight. It would get awfully cold. Her insides quivered, and her lunch churned in her stomach.

She had to think.

She grabbed Micah's hand and headed toward the library on shaking legs. They could stay warm while she came up with a game plan.

When they reached the building, she found a quiet corner in the deserted kids' section. She found Micah a few picture books
to occupy him while she sat in the child-sized chair next to him. “Look at the books while Mommy thinks, okay?”

They were maybe five hours from Loon Lake. But there were no buses running into the remote regions of Maine and no taxis to be had. Not that it mattered, since she had no means to pay their fare. That left hitchhiking, and she couldn't chance that with Micah even if there were cars going that direction—and she doubted there were. Especially with a storm moving in.

She'd sold the only thing of value she'd had left. She looked down at her designer jeans and cashmere sweater. They wouldn't bring much second-hand. And the car hadn't been worth much even when it was running.

They were going to have to stay here awhile. She didn't see any other way. She needed a temporary job and quick. It was almost Christmastime; surely one of these shops was hiring. If she explained that her ID had been stolen, maybe someone would have mercy on her. She had no idea what she'd do with Micah while she worked. Maybe there was a preschool that needed an assistant.