“Kind of.”
“Where are you?”
She swallowed again, hoping to get out more than a single word. “Work.”
“I’m right down the street from you today. I’ll be there in five minutes.” He hung up without giving her a chance to object.
Not that she would have. She might have given an insincere protest at first, but she wanted his presence.
Chapter Ten
Aaron closed his car door. Leaning against the bumper, he observed the front of the building. He’d never been to Hope House and had imagined a different landscape.
The shelters he’d known and volunteered at on occasion had been plain brick building with an industrial feel. There had been no frills, no indications it was a home of any sorts. The interiors had been as nondescript as the outside, designed strictly for functionality and practicality without a thought to niceties.
Hope House contradicted every appearance he could have envisioned. Wine colored shutters rested flush against tan vinyl. Wooden flowerboxes with colorful blooms hung below each window. Freshly mulched flowerbeds housed trimmed hedges. The entire property was kept immaculate and projected an inviting atmosphere.
He stepped away from the car and walked along the paved sidewalk. A few women walked outside, gave him a cursory glance, then continued on their way. Unsure of protocol once he was inside, he surveyed his surroundings. He didn’t want to inadvertently wander into an off-limits area.
Before he could step in any direction, Rachel appeared from a side hallway. His heart skipped when he saw her, and it confirmed what he’d had plenty of time to realize this week. He liked her. A lot.
When she’d started acting strange Sunday evening, he’d explained it away, telling himself she’d been spooked by the weather. Come Tuesday, he began to suspect she was avoiding him. This morning he’d decided whatever had sparked between them was short-lived and one-sided.
Now he didn’t know. Had she only called him because of Roxie’s diagnosis? Even if that was the sole reason, it gave him hope. In a time of need, she’d turned to him, and that counted for something.
Red circles surrounded her swollen eyes, the only sign she’d given in to tears. Her smile was tight and forced, her shoulders sagged.
Not giving it another thought, he met her with open arms and drew her into an embrace. She sagged into him. Her head rested on his shoulder.
She breathed out, then spoke without looking up. “I’m scared.”
“That’s okay.” He ran a hand over her shoulders.
For a second, she didn’t say anything. She backed away, removed her glasses, and rubbed her eyes. She turned around and walked down the hall.
Taking her cue, he followed her into an office that he presumed to be hers. Several picture frames decorated a corner of her desk. He recognized the people in the photos as her family from the portrait she had in her house. “This is a nice place. It’s beautiful.”
“We’ve been blessed. A general contractor was the husband of Hope House’s founder, and he built this place below cost. A landscaping company donated their time and product for the outside aesthetics, and they come several times a year to maintain it.” She stopped and slipped her glasses back on her face. “I’m sorry. You didn’t come for a history lesson on the shelter.”
He smiled. “It’s encouraging to hear stories of people’s generosity.”
And it’s distracting you from Roxie’s news.
“Would you like a tour?”
“Sure.” He offered a hand.
She squared her shoulders, put on a brave face, and placed her hand in his. “The wing with the dorms is off limits to grown males, except for maintenance, but I can show you the rest.”
As they strolled through the building, he watched Rachel’s interactions with the people who crossed their path.
A lady with short, spiky blonde hair stopped them outside the cafeteria. A full sleeve tattoo covered her arm, and a wide, toothy grin spread across her mouth. “Miss Rachel, guess what?”
“You got the job?”
“Yes, ma’am!” The lady’s voice beamed with pride. “I start Monday morning.”
Rachel pulled her hand away and hugged her. “I’m so happy for you Christy. I knew you could do it.”
