Hour of Need (Scarlet Falls #1)(11)

“Grant needs the house key.” Ellie spied it on a wall hook. AnnaBelle followed her to the key rack and back. “Is there anything else we can do for you?”

“Not tonight,” he said, taking the key from her hand. “I might have some questions for you tomorrow, especially when the kids come home. Thank you for taking the dog and for watching the house.”

“It was the least I could do.” Ellie went to the pantry and hoisted a fifty-pound bag of dog food up onto her hip.

Grant rushed over. “Let me get that.” He tucked it under one arm as if it didn’t weigh more than a bag of flour. She kept her eyes off the bulges under his sweater. Mostly. This was hardly the appropriate time to appreciate the major’s attributes. But she knew they were all sorts of fine. An image popped into her head of Grant playing outside with Carson last May. Carson had turned the hose on his uncle. The vision of Grant stripping off his wet T-shirt, ringing it out, and chasing his giggling nephew across the yard had been imprinted in Ellie’s brain for the last ten months. And replayed itself a thousand times like a video on YouTube, usually at very inappropriate and inopportune times. Like now.

She set a coiled leash on top of the bag. “She doesn’t wear the leash much. If you call her, she’ll come.”

“Mom?”

All heads turned toward the doorway. Her daughter, Julia, stood under the arch.

“Do you remember Major Barrett?”

Julia nodded. “I’m real sorry.” She sniffed. A tear leaked out of a swollen eye, and she heaved a long, shaky breath. She’d taken the Barretts’ deaths hard. In addition to babysitting Carson and Faith, Kate was Julia’s figure skating coach. Ellie went to her daughter and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Her sexy thoughts of the hot major faded, adding another layer to her sadness. If things were different, if he wasn’t an ambitious military officer constantly moving all over the world, if she wasn’t so bound by the betrayal of her past, if their current meeting wasn’t mired in grief, then maybe something could happen between them.

But that was way too many ifs, all impossible to change.

Grant shifted his weight toward the front door as if he couldn’t escape fast enough. “It’s late. I’d better go. Thank you again.”

He called the dog, who went willingly, always thrilled to meet a new human. Ellie escorted them outside to the front porch. AnnaBelle followed Grant across the grass and up onto the stoop of the house next door. Ellie shut the door and locked the deadbolt.

“Night.” Rubbing her biceps, Julia went upstairs.

Nan stood in the kitchen, one fist propped on a hip, brows pinched in deep thought. “That man’s going to need help.”

Ellie crossed her arms over her chest. “If Grant needs help, he’ll ask for it. Until he does, we are going to mind our own business.”

Nan ignored her, bustling around the kitchen. “Nice-looking man. Fit. Clean-cut. Always did love a man in uniform.”

“He wasn’t in uniform.”

“I have a good imagination.” Thank God Nan had been away last year. If she’d seen Grant without a shirt . . .

“Oh, no.” Ellie wagged a finger at her grandmother. “Don’t even start.”

“Start what?” Nan lifted an overly innocent shoulder. “I was simply making an observation.”

“Well, don’t,” Ellie said. “He’s on leave. He’s not staying.”

“Uh-huh.” Nan pulled a loaf pan from the cabinet.

“I don’t do casual.”

Nan snorted. “You don’t do anyone.”

“Nan!” Ellie protested.

Her grandmother held up a forefinger. “Look, you made a mistake when you were young. The only one still making you pay for it is you. I can count the number of dates you’ve had in the last few years on one of these veiny old hands. You need to let it go and move on with your life.”

“I’ve been involved with a man who wasn’t around. I’m not doing that again.” Ellie would rather renovate than date. “You’re exaggerating. I’ve dated more than that. It’s just been a while. I’ve been busy.”

“Not much more.” Nan pulled her recipe box from the back of the counter. She flipped through rows of handwritten, butter-splotched index cards.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m wide awake.” Nan took the flour out of the pantry. “I’m going to bake.”

“It’s after eleven.”

“When Carson comes home, he’ll want something familiar to eat.” How like her grandmother to turn her insomnia into a comforting meal for a sad child. “And men the size of Grant need sustenance.”

When Ellie had turned up on her grandmother’s doorstep pregnant at seventeen, with the baby’s father absconding for the West Coast and Ellie’s parents issuing a their-way-or-the-highway ultimatum, Nan had taken her in without a single reproach. What’s done is done, she’d said. Let’s focus on the future. The next day, they’d picked a theme for the nursery and started painting the spare room.

Nan paused, baking pan in hand, staring at their reflection in the dark glass of the kitchen window. “I can’t sleep. I keep thinking about Lee and Kate and those poor children.”