Miss Goody Two-Shoes: Contemporary Romance Read online

  “I’m sorry we got off to a bad start, Miss Abercrombie,” he said, using a tone that was meant to inspire confidence, “and I’m sorry for the things I said. I don’t feel good about leaving you out in the middle of nowhere. Do you have a cell phone?” She shook her head. “Then at least let me escort you to the nearest phone so you can call for help. After that, I’ll be on my way.”

  She looked surprised. “And go where?”

  It was working. “You let me worry about that.”

  Heaving one last sigh, Mel grabbed her purse from the front seat of the car, climbed out, and followed him up the ravine, allowing him to assist her.

  “Which way to the nearest phone?” he asked when they reached the top.

  Mel motioned in the direction of the house they’d just left. “My friend wouldn’t mind me using hers.”

  Kane picked up his duffel bag, and they started for the house that was no more than an eighth of a mile away. They walked in silence, neither knowing what to say. Mel was careful not to brush his hand as they went, but she couldn’t help but notice the arm next to her: bare, slightly muscular, and feathered with silky black hair. Very nice, as arms went.

  Once at the house, Mel unlocked the front door and went in. “It’s okay for you to come in, too,” she said. She waited for him to follow, then went straight for the phone.

  Kane stood inside the door and waited while Mel looked up a phone number in a thin directory and dialled. He took a moment to study his surroundings while she talked to the person on the other end of the line. The living room was small and filled with various houseplants. A flat screen sat on the fireplace mantel and one wall was devoted to framed photos.

  He took it all in with relish, trying to remember the last time he’d been in a private home. Nevertheless, he felt uncomfortable. Not only did he not know the owners, he’d just served time in a penitentiary. If the couple ever learned he was there, they’d start looking high and low to find something missing. He took a step back, positioning himself closer to the door. He looked up when Mel hung up the phone.

  “Sure is different from what I’m used to,” he said, smiling self-consciously.

  Mel felt a sudden, unexpected wave of tenderness for him and wondered what his life had been like behind bars. “Yes, I’m sure it is. But just think, before long you’ll have your own place.”

  “It can’t happen fast enough for me,” he said, wondering if she had any idea how long he’d dreamed of it. He would never again have to share a toilet or try to sleep while his bunkmate snored. “Did you find a tow truck?” he asked, giving none of his thoughts away.

  She nodded. She wasn’t the least bit afraid now that she knew the truth about him. “There’s only one place in town with a tow truck. It’s being used right now, but they should have it here in about an hour.” She paused. “Would you like a cup of coffee? There’s no need to hurry, and I know my friend wouldn’t mind.”

  “Yeah, sure,” he said, following her into a spotless compact kitchen.

  It didn’t take Mel long to find what she needed to make coffee. She had spent many evenings sipping Starbucks coffee in this same kitchen after choir practice while she and her friend Camille talked long into the night about all sorts of things. She motioned for Kane to sit at the small table as she scooped the coffee from one of the canisters into the coffee maker. She turned when she heard Kane chuckling from his place at the table.

  He looked less menacing when he smiled. His teeth were a brilliant white against the beard. “What’s so funny?” she asked.

  “You thinking I’d escaped.”

  She chuckled, as well. “What was I supposed to think? You didn’t tell me you were getting out. You never so much as answered any of my letters.”

  “I’m not much for writing letters.”

  “Obviously.”

  “So why’d you keep writing?” he asked, for the second time in less than an hour.

  She regarded him. “I hoped it would make a difference.”

  “It did.” She arched one brow at him, and he knew she wanted him to elaborate. He decided it was time to change the subject. “What do you think my chances are of finding a job around here?” he said instead, watching her closely for a reaction.

  Mel didn’t try to mask her surprise. “You’re thinking of staying in Hardeeville?”

  “Would it bother you?”

  “No, of course not. I’m just surprised, that’s all. I wouldn’t have thought small-town life would appeal to someone like you.”

  “Someone like me?” He tensed. “You mean an ex-con?”

  She blushed. “That’s not what I meant at all. It’s just, well, Hardeeville is small, and there’s not a lot to do. My sister, Blair, just hates it here. The only time she comes around is when her life falls apart in New York.”

  “Is that why she’s home now?”

  Mel realized she may have said too much. “She’s not happy with the way her career is going,” she said, deciding the small confidence wouldn’t hurt her sister.

  Mel reached into a cabinet for two coffee mugs. “She wants to be an actress. That’s why she went to New York in the first place. She’s had a couple of small parts here and there, but nothing significant.” Mel didn’t think it would be fair to Blair to say anything more. Although Blair’s modeling career had supported her well these past few years and allowed her to rub elbows with the rich and famous, she had never hit it big. Now, at twenty-eight, she was beginning to panic. With younger faces appearing on the covers of magazines, Blair wanted desperately to move on to something bigger and better.

  “What do you take in your coffee?” Mel asked, changing the subject.

  “I’ve been drinking it black for the past three years,” he said, pleased he had a choice now. “Maybe I should try something different.”

  She put cream and sugar in the cup, stirred, then handed it to him.

  He took a sip and was tempted to close his eyes from the sheer pleasure of it. It was odd what people took for granted. Until prison, he’d never appreciated a damn thing. Now he was grateful for everything. “I could get used to this.”

  Mel smiled as she joined him at the table. It was fun watching his reaction to new things. She realized he had probably never had a decent cup of coffee, much less Starbucks, since he was incarcerated. It also made him appear almost vulnerable in his appreciation for everything, although she was certain he would deny it as long as he had breath in his body. “So, what kind of work are you looking for?”

  “I worked in the print shop at Leavenworth, so I figured I could start interviewing in that area.”

  “We only have one print shop in Hardeeville, but I know the owners personally. I could call them—”

  “I’d rather you didn’t,” Kane interrupted, deciding she had done enough. He didn’t want to be indebted to her or anyone else. When she looked surprised, he went on. “I’d prefer doing it on my own.”

  “I understand.”

  He drained his coffee cup and set it down. “I could really use your advice on a place to live, though,” he said. “Preferably something inexpensive.”

  “There’s Yardley’s Boardinghouse in town,” Mel told him. “Nothing fancy, but it’s clean and not pricey. You might have to share a bathroom.”

  Kane frowned. Okay, so maybe he had to share a toilet for a little while longer. It wasn’t forever. “Some things never change,” he muttered. He glanced at the clock on the wall. “We’d best get back to your car.”

  Mel rinsed out the coffeemaker and their mugs and set them on a towel to dry. There was something strangely intimate in the act. She checked a couple of potted plants near the window she had watered two days before to make sure the dirt was still moist. Once she was convinced everything was okay, she followed Kane out the front door and locked it.

  “You ever had your own place?” he asked as they started down the road, him with his duffel bag on one shoulder.

  She shook her head, glad the walk back w
asn’t as tense as the one coming up. “I’ve always lived with my father.”

  “Where’s your mother?”

  Mel glanced at him, then straight ahead. She didn’t often talk about the woman who’d given birth to her. “My mother left when Blair and I were little.”

  “That must’ve been tough.”

  “At first, but we hardly ever think about it now.”

  “She’s never tried to contact you?”

  His questions made Mel uneasy and touched on painful decisions she had made within the last year concerning her mother. “My mother was not happy living with us. She hated Hardeeville as much as Blair does. If I never see her again, it’ll be too soon as far as I’m concerned. Oh, look, there’s the tow truck now,” she said, picking up her pace. She was thankful for the diversion. Thinking about her mother always left a bad taste in her mouth.

  # # #

  The air had cooled considerably by the time Mel parked in front of her house with Kane behind on his motorcycle. Once her car had been pulled from the ditch, he’d suggested they take it to a self-service car wash and clean it up. Luckily, the car hadn’t been damaged. She’d been so thankful that she’d insisted Kane come to dinner.

  Mel noticed him studying everything closely as he parked his bike and climbed off. She was glad she and her father had managed to keep up with the yard work. The boxwood hedges were neatly trimmed, and the azaleas in the flower beds were blooming, creating a myriad of colors. Several large Martha Washington geraniums hung from hooks on the front porch.

  “Well, here we are,” she announced once she’d climbed from the car.

  “It looks like a Norman Rockwell painting,” Kane said, joining her on the flagstone walk that led to the small farmhouse.

  “You’re familiar with Norman Rockwell’s work?”

  He fixed her with a cool look. “Yeah, when I’m not stealing wallets and cutting throats, I like to study his stuff.”

  She could feel the color staining her cheeks. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Isn’t it?” She obviously considered him a dullard and a hood. And maybe he had been before prison, but he had utilized his time well. He’d made the weeks and months count.

  “Kane—” She paused and met his gaze. “I can’t be your friend if you’re going to misunderstand everything I say.”

  He studied her intently. Had he misread her? All his life he’d been treated like trash. He’d come to expect it. What made her different? He wanted to ask, but he didn’t feel he knew her well enough.

  “I’ve never met a woman who blushed as easily as you do,” he said instead, changing the subject because it seemed like a safer topic.

  Whatever Mel may have expected him to say, that was not it. “Yes, well, I’ve never met a man who was so quick-tempered.” She smiled, hoping to ease the tension between them. “Let’s go in. I don’t know about you, but I’m as hungry as a bear.”

  Duffel bag propped on one shoulder, Kane followed her up the short walk to the front porch as a fat tabby cat awoke from his late afternoon nap and raced toward Mel, rubbing against her legs as she climbed the steps. Mel laughed, stopping long enough to pet him affectionately. “This is Hercules,” she said, introducing Kane to the animal. “Someone found him in a Dumpster, half-starved, when he was only a couple of days old. Dad and I had to feed him with an eyedropper to keep him alive.”

  Kane leaned over and scratched the cat behind one ear. He purred in response. “He doesn’t look as if he’s missed any meals since.”

  Mel was just about to respond when the front door was thrown open by a blonde who could only be described as drop-dead gorgeous.

  “What took you so long?” she demanded. “Daddy wants his supper.” Her eyes drifted to Kane, then opened wide in surprise. She folded her arms in front of her and stepped back as though suddenly feeling the need to defend herself. “Who is that?”

  Kane shifted from one foot to the other. He suddenly felt like a circus freak under the woman’s appalled gaze. He disliked her instantly.

  “This is Kane Stoddard,” Mel said, embarrassed by her sister’s rudeness. Blair didn’t have a diplomatic bone in her body. “He’s new in town.” She paused briefly, noting the way Kane stared in return. She wasn’t surprised. Most men couldn’t take their eyes off her sister. “Kane, this is Blair.”

  Kane started to offer his hand, and then thought better of it. “Nice to meet you,” he said, as he followed Mel inside, with Blair watching him as though she expected him to whip out a pistol and start shooting.

  “Why is he here?” Blair asked.

  Kane tensed. The woman was passing judgment on him, and she didn’t know the first thing about him. All his insecurities, and his anger, sprang to life. From somewhere in his head a voice mocked him. He was Harmon Stoddard’s kid. He’d never amount to anything.

  Mel saw Kane’s look and knew she had to move fast. As irritated as she was with Blair’s behavior, though, she couldn’t place all the blame on her. Kane didn’t look like the sort of man you’d bring to dinner. “I accidentally ran my car off Roper’s Road,” she told her sister. “Kane waited with me until a tow truck came. I invited him for dinner. Have you put the pork chops in the oven yet?” she asked, hoping to take the focus off Kane.

  Blair gave her a look that suggested she had obviously lost her marbles at the bottom of the ditch, as well. “You know I can’t cook.”

  “I tried to tell her how to do it,” Wilton Abercrombie said, coming into the room, “but she insisted on waiting for you.”

  Mel sometimes wondered how her family had become so helpless. “Daddy, you remember Kane Stoddard,” she said, repeating the story of how she’d run off the road.

  “You’re staying for dinner, right?” Wilton said, as soon as he was convinced his daughter was unharmed.

  “Of course, he is,” Mel told him. She looked at Kane. “I know you’re anxious to get cleaned up,” she said, hoping he would take the hint without being offended. “Daddy, if you’ll show Kane where he can take a shower, I’ll get dinner on. Oh, and Kane, I’ll toss your clothes in the washer if you like.”

  Mel hurried into the kitchen and to the refrigerator, where the package of pork chops was still wrapped as they’d come from the store. She turned around and bumped into Blair who was right behind her. “Would you please make a salad?” she asked her sister, knowing it was the one thing she could prepare.

  “Just what do you think you’re doing?” Blair hissed.

  Mel reached beneath the oven for the broiler pan. “What do you mean?” she said, being deliberately obtuse. She did not feel like getting into a heated discussion about Kane, especially with him just down the hall.

  “What is that man doing in this house?”

  “I told you. I invited him for dinner.”

  “Oh really, Mel?” Blair let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s bad enough you and Daddy pick up every stray animal you find. Must you bring homeless outcasts into our house as well? Can’t you see that man is dirty?”

  Mel gave her sister a long, hard look. “His clothes are grungy,” she said, “but that’s only because he’s been on the road for several days.” She tore open the package of meat. “I know he looks rough, Blair. I was shocked at first. But once you get to know him—”

  Blair drew back as though she’d been slapped. “I don’t plan to get to know him. The man looks as if he belongs behind bars.”

  Wilton Abercrombie stepped into the room. “Chill out, Blair,” he chuckled at his own choice of words.

  “Daddy, I can’t believe you let Mel bring that awful man here.”

  Wilton made his way to the refrigerator, where he pulled out a pitcher of tea. “This is Mel’s house, too. I reckon she can bring anyone she likes into it.” He glanced at his oldest daughter. “I’ve invited him to spend the night.”

  All the color drained from Blair’s face. “My God, you’re as bad as she is.”

  “Where’s he going to sleep?” Mel asked he
r father, trying to ignore her sister’s theatrics. It was times like this that she couldn’t help but wonder why Blair hadn’t made it big as an actress.

  “He can sleep in the attic,” Wilton said. “There’s even a roll-away bed stored up there, as I remember.”

  “I don’t know, it gets awfully hot in the attic,” Mel told him, then decided after what Kane was used to, it might seem like the Hilton.

  “I’ll carry that big fan up from the garage. That thing would cool the Sahara Desert.”

  Blair shook her head sadly. “You are both out of your minds, you know that?”

  “That’s enough,” Wilton told her. “You know how I feel about helping the less fortunate.”

  “Yes, Daddy, I know how you feel,” she said. “But it’s not your Christian duty to invite hoodlums into our home.”

  Blair was still trying to drag Mel to her senses as they put the finishing touches on dinner. “Okay, have it your way,” she said. “But don’t expect me to be nice to the man.”

  # # #

  The pork chops had been baked to a golden brown, the potatoes mashed until there wasn’t a lump to be found, and the biscuits were just waiting to be dipped in the gravy Mel had prepared. There were field peas with fresh chopped onion and stewed tomatoes, all of which had come from Mel’s vegetable garden the previous year. She wanted everything to be perfect. Not only did they have a house guest, they had a man who likely hadn’t eaten a home-cooked meal in years.

  So where was Kane? He’d been holed up in the bathroom for more than an hour.

  Mel cleared her throat. “Daddy, I think you better knock on the bathroom door again.”

  “I’ve already knocked twice.”

  “He’s probably not even in there,” Blair said. “Most likely, he’s stolen our prescription drugs and climbed out the bathroom window.” She picked up her fork and started eating her salad, announcing to her family that she was tired of waiting.