Driftwood Lane (Nantucket #4)(22)

“Sit tight,” he said after he pulled into the drive and put the truck in park. He came around and opened Meridith’s door, then eased Ben into his arms. Even with the wet cast, the kid weighed nothing. He was small boned like Eva, but Jake was sure he’d lost weight in the weeks since his parents died.

The house was quiet and dark except for a lamp in the living room. Meridith set the pharmacy bag on the kitchen island and unlocked the door to the back stairs. Ben slept soundly through it all.

“That room,” Meridith whispered when they reached the landing, reminding Jake he wasn’t supposed to know the way.

The moonlight flooded through the sheers, offering a beam of light.

“Top bunk.” She dashed around him to pull back the covers.

Jake lifted Ben over the railing and set him down gently, supporting his casted arm.

Meridith climbed two rungs up the ladder and eased Ben’s Nikes off his feet.

Jake drew the covers to the boy’s chin. He hoped Ben would sleep through the night. The arm was going to hurt like the dickens when the meds wore off. He wished he could stay and tend to him.

From the bottom bunk, Max let out a noisy snore. Jake turned to smile at Meridith, but she was gone. She appeared two seconds later with an armload of bedding, which she dropped on the floor.

She gestured for him to follow her from the room. The stairs creaked loudly as they descended.

“Thanks again for your help,” Meridith said once they reached the kitchen.

“No problem.”

She fetched a glass and filled it with water. With her back turned, Jake studied the way her dark hair shimmered in the stove top’s night-light, the way it swung easily with each turn of her head.

“Maybe you shouldn’t come tomorrow,” Meridith said. “The noise and all. Ben will need his rest.”

Jake pocketed his hands. He needed to make sure the kid was okay. “I’ll work on something quiet. Maybe outside. Besides, you’re not going to keep that little boy in bed all day.”

“I guess that would be okay.” She ripped open the pharmacy bag, removed the amber container, and set it by the water. Looked like she was preparing for a long night.

“I’ll get out of your hair.” He walked toward the back door.

“Where are you going?” She followed him.

“Taking the ladder down like I should’ve hours ago.”

“Oh.” She folded her arms against the chill in the air, and he noticed again how little she was. Barely to his shoulders. Her chutzpah made him forget her small stature.

Her chin was a pixielike triangle, and her eyes were like a shadowed forest. Deep. Mysterious.

“Well. Good night,” she said.

What was he thinking? He cleared his throat. “Night.”

As he retrieved the ladder and carried it to his truck, he reminded himself of all the reasons why he shouldn’t be noticing her hair or her chin and most definitely not her deep-green eyes.





Twelve

Meridith was thrilled to have the house to herself after a hectic weekend with guests, church, and helping Ben adjust to his cast. He was down to Tylenol, had slept through the night, and this morning had been eager to show off his new cast at school.

With Jake working outside it was almost like having an empty house. Today, she decided, she would clean out Eva and T. J.’s room. Clearing out their belongings would help the kids adjust and move on. Leaving the room as some kind of shrine wasn’t healthy.

She spent the morning packing clothes. Eva’s taste had been simple, mostly jeans, tunics, and T-shirts. T. J. had a few nice things hanging in the closet, but the casual clothes in the chest seemed to be the staples of his wardrobe.

When the clothes were packed away, she set the boxes on the porch for the charity that was picking them up, then she stripped the bedding and washed it.

She’d found a large box of photos and mementos in the closet and carried it to the living room to sort. As she set the box by the hearth, she decided a roaring fire would be relaxing. She’d seen a stack of logs at the side of the house.

After carrying them in and finding a lighter, Meridith poked around until she found the flue. Pushing it upward, she felt the draft and set to work lighting the fire, starting with the kindling she’d gathered and placed at the bottom of the stack.

When the kindling caught, she rolled up yesterday’s newspaper and encouraged the flame. The logs were dry and should make for an easy light.

But the smoke was going the wrong way. She leaned over the tiny fire, closed the flue, then opened it again.

The fire grew, and smoke rolled past her. What in the world?

Maybe she had the flue closed instead of open. She pulled the handle and waited for the smoke to drift upward.

The log caught fire, and the smoke increased, pouring into the living room.

She moved the handle back the other direction. No change. Was something blocking the opening? She turned, coughing.

Maybe she’d better extinguish it before the smoke detectors went off. She went to the kitchen for the fire extinguisher she’d seen in the cupboard.

“What the—” Jake’s voice carried from the living room.

“I know, I know,” she exclaimed, grabbing the extinguisher. So much for a nice relaxing fire. Why did everything in this house have to be so difficult?

She pulled the pin as she rushed back toward the living room through the thick wall of smoke, coughing and waving her hands as she approached the fireplace. She aimed the extinguisher and pulled the handle. Nothing.