Love Inspired May 2015 #2 (36 page)

http://www.harlequin.com/harlequinexperience

Chapter One

“M
ommy, can we go home now? I'm tired of coloring.”

Lainie Hollings fought back the nausea churning in her stomach and gently stroked her youngest daughter's hair. “Not yet, Chrissy. Why don't you use the green crayon for a while?”

A weary sigh accompanied the nodding of the little head. Lainie watched her girls, six-year-old Natalie and four-year-old Christiana, as they scribbled on the pages the officer at the Dover Mississippi Police Station had given them to keep them entertained. They couldn't go home because they had no home to go to. Her job as assistant to Mrs. Forsythe, a wealthy businesswoman in Memphis, Tennessee, had ended when her employer had moved away for health reasons. Thankfully, Lainie had quickly landed the position as head librarian for the Dover Public Library.

Today was their moving day. This morning, she had been filled with excitement and bursting with hope. This move marked the culmination of a dream she and her husband had once shared. They'd planned to leave Baton Rouge and its big city life behind and move to a small town where they could grow their family in a friendly, nurturing environment. They'd been saving for a house, but she had been forced to use the money for Craig's funeral instead. Alone and pregnant with their second child, she'd moved to Jackson, Tennessee, to live with her mother and gone back to school at night to get her degree.

The past five years had been difficult, moving from place to place, job to job. The librarian position was her chance to find a permanent home.

So, they'd come to Dover a few days early to find a place to live and check into child care. It was supposed to be a fun trip discovering their new home. Instead, they were sitting in a police station, the victims of a crime. As they had been leaving a local restaurant, a man had shoved Lainie against her car, waved a gun in her face, then yanked her purse from her arm and fled. Thankfully, she'd already put the girls in the car. But all she had left were the car keys she held in her hand, and eight dollars and thirty-four cents—change from lunch, which she'd shoved into the pocket of her cotton slacks.

The moment replayed in her mind like a scene from a horror film, tightening the vise of fear around her chest. She lowered her head into her hands, fighting to keep the rising panic at bay. How was she going to take care of her girls? Where would they stay? She'd set aside money for a motel, but now, without a credit card or cash, that was impossible. Tears welled in her eyes and she brushed them away quickly, not wanting the children to see her upset. But she was barely holding it together.

“Look, Mommy, I colored it purple.” Chrissy's blue eyes sparkled from behind her glasses.

“Good job, sweetie.”

Looking at her precious girls, her throat constricted again. What if the thief had taken the car with the girls inside? What if he'd killed her? Lainie forced the terrifying thoughts aside. She couldn't give in to the fear. They were all fine, but destitute. She had no phone, no ID and no money. The only person she knew in town, Mr. Bill Ogden, mayor and president of the library board who'd hired her, was out of town for the weekend. They were on their own.

Unless Shaw McKinney showed up.

The knot in her chest grew. She clasped her hands together, squeezing tightly. While paying her bill at the restaurant, she'd noticed several business cards on display. One had a familiar name printed on it. Goudchaux McKinney Construction. Shaw McKinney, contractor. She'd picked up the card, the name unearthing anger and resentment she'd thought long buried. If it weren't for him, Craig would still be alive and her daughters would have a father. She'd shoved the card into her pocket along with the change. Shaw was the last person on earth she wanted to ask for help, but he was her only option. She'd given the card to the officer and asked him to call.

“Mommy, I have to go.” Natalie wiggled in her chair.

Chrissy looked up, pushing her tiny glasses up on her little nose. “Me, too.”

Lainie stood and looked around for her purse, wincing when she remembered it was gone. “Come on, girls.” Lainie took their hands and walked down the hall to the restrooms. She tried to quell the nervousness swirling in her stomach as she helped Chrissy wash her hands. Maybe when she returned to the lobby, Shaw would be here. She didn't want to think about what they would do if he didn't come. Worse yet, what if he did? Turning for help to the man responsible for her husband's death was repugnant.

Settling into the molded plastic chair again, she glanced toward the lobby entrance as yet another stranger walked in. She'd repeated this motion so often she now recognized the distinct squeak and swoosh of the door when it opened and closed. This time, it ushered in a gray-haired man carrying a large envelope.

“Mommy, can you draw me a rainbow?”

Lainie took one of the crayons and drew arched lines across the paper. “What's Shaw doing here in Dover, Mississippi, anyway?”

“What, Mommy?”

“Nothing, sweetie. I'm just talking to myself.” The last time she'd seen Shaw was in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Craig had hired on with Beaumont Construction, determined to learn carpentry so he could eventually start his own contracting firm. Shaw had been his instructor, the one assigned to show him the ropes and keep him safe as he navigated the dangers of the job. But he hadn't, and Craig had died.

Lainie pressed her lips together. They'd been sitting in the police station for two hours, filling out forms, answering questions. She had to face the possibility that Shaw might not come. He probably didn't remember her. She'd have to find another way to survive until she started her job next week. Maybe there was a homeless shelter in town. The idea made her sick. She'd worked hard the past five years to take care of her girls, and she'd done a decent job so far. But this wasn't the time to let pride stand in her way. Perhaps there was a church in town that could help. Their last resort would be to spend a few nights in the car until the mayor returned. Hopefully, he'd let her start work early or give her an advance to tide her over.

Closing her eyes, she clasped her hands in front of her mouth.
Lord, help me. I have no one. Nowhere to turn, but You. You've seen me through these past five years. Please don't abandon me now.

* * *

Shaw McKinney ended the call and jammed his cell phone into his back pocket, grinding his teeth in exasperation. The drywall crew that was supposed to start today wasn't coming. Any more setbacks and this project might never be completed. He was already three weeks behind due to a series of unexpected delays. Thankfully, he'd obtained an extension, but the next deadline was set in concrete. Slowly, he walked through the old mansion. The 1885 house was one of the oldest in Dover and had been empty for the past dozen years. Thanks to an anonymous benefactor, the building, along with money for restoration, books and staff, had been donated to the town to replace the library, which had burned down five years ago.

Shaw had won the contract. It had meant not only a financial boon to his new construction business, but a huge boost to his reputation. After leaving LC Construction a year ago and starting his own company, McKinney Construction, he'd made the classic newbie mistake of overscheduling his projects. With the library job behind, he'd had to pull back on his other jobs because if this one wasn't done on time, he'd have to pay a hefty fine to the benefactor's foundation, one that could mean the end of his fledgling business. Shaw had factored in time for unexpected problems, but the old house had coughed up more than he'd bargained for.

“So, are they coming or not?”

“Not.” Shaw faced his foreman and longtime mentor, Russ Franklin. The older man was the biggest asset to Shaw's start-up construction company. Skilled, experienced and dedicated, Russ had owned his own company in Alabama for years. When he had sold it, Shaw had convinced him to move to Dover to work with him. “Our drywall crew took another job. They couldn't wait on us any longer.”

“That's going to put us further behind.”

“How long would it take for you and me to do the work?” It was his last resort.

Russ frowned. “Too long. We're way too close to the deadline as it is. You want me to find us another crew?”

The knot in Shaw's chest, which had formed over the past few weeks, tightened. “Yeah. Call Laura Holbrook and see if she has a few guys we could use. Or maybe she knows of another contractor we can call. I've used up all my contacts.”

Russ moved off to make the calls, and Shaw planted his hands on his tool belt and scanned the large room that would be the fiction section of the new Dover Library. It would take several days to put up drywall, then tape, float and sand before they could paint. Days lost when other crews couldn't work.

When Russ returned, his expression was grim. “Laura doesn't have anyone to spare at the moment, and she doesn't know any other crews that are available.”

Shaw rubbed his jaw. He couldn't handle another delay. Dover had been without a library for a long time, unable to afford a new one. The donation had been a blessing to the small town and generated huge excitement from the residents. The people here had given him a home and a fresh start. He wasn't about to let them down. Even if he had to work around the clock to get the job done.

His cell rang and he yanked it out of his pocket, frowning when he saw the name on the screen. Dover police. “Hello.” He listened as the officer explained the situation. Shaw rubbed his forehead and nodded. “Yeah. I know her. I'll be right there.” He hung up, his chest constricted so tightly he had trouble breathing. The last thing he needed was another complication in his life. And Lainie Hollings was a giant one.

Hearing her name had unleashed a landslide of painful memories and a heavy dose of guilt. He'd started to deny knowing her. It would do neither one of them any good to meet again. But when the officer had told him she'd been robbed, Shaw couldn't ignore her plight. Lainie was a widow because of his carelessness.

A death he could have prevented. He'd double-and triple-checked her husband's safety harness on the roof that day, only to find he'd loosened the straps again. Irritated with Hollings's cavalier attitude, Shaw had failed to check again, and Hollings had fallen from the roof. Lainie blamed him for her husband's death. Shaw accepted his part in the accident. He should have checked again. A dozen times if necessary. But he hadn't.

“Everything okay, boss?”

Shaw looked at his foreman. Right now, nothing was okay. “I've got to leave. I might not be back today. Keep looking for a crew and check on the remodel on Corey Road. If we can get that job done, we can list it.”

Russ nodded. “And what about the Hanson remodel?”

Another problem to add to the pile. “I'll have to push them back again.” Russ frowned and Shaw held up a hand to halt the comment he knew was coming. The Hansons were beyond irritated. If he didn't find a way to soothe their ruffled feathers, it could get ugly. But that was the least of his worries now.

Shaw climbed into his truck and cranked the engine, trying to figure out how he'd face Lainie Hollings. What did you say to the wife of the man you killed?

The moment he stepped inside the police station, his attention was drawn to the dark-haired woman seated in the waiting area. His stopped in his tracks, his heart racing, the blood roaring through his ears. She was even lovelier than she'd been when he'd first seen her. That moment was indelibly etched in his mind. She'd come to the job site to bring her husband his lunch. They'd laughed and talked and shared little touches, and Shaw's heart had grown envious.

Lainie had caught him watching her, and he'd felt a jolt like an electrical charge through his system. She was the prettiest woman he'd ever seen. She'd looked away and that's when the shame had tightened his throat. What was wrong with him? Admiring the wife of the man he was training was detestable. Shaw had gone back to work and vowed to keep his attraction in check.

Realizing he was still standing in the doorway, Shaw squared his shoulders and stepped forward. Lainie was hunched in her seat watching two little girls as they scribbled on paper. Her dark brown hair was shorter now, falling in a sleek line to her shoulders. She glanced at him. In that moment, he noticed the sparkle was missing from her big brown eyes. Instead, he saw fear and anxiety. She looked fragile and alone. He was hit with a strong desire to pull her close and comfort her, but he didn't have the right. All he could do was offer his help. His attraction had no place in this situation.

* * *

The door to the police station swooshed open again, but Lainie didn't bother to look.

Shaw wasn't coming. She'd have to find help someplace else. Heavy footsteps on the floor drew her attention, and she looked up to see a tall, dark-haired man. He was dressed in faded jeans and a dark T-shirt with a company logo that hugged his torso in an interesting way. His sturdy, tan work boots thumped the floor as he strode toward them with a confident swagger. She started to look away only to realize who the man was. Shaw McKinney.

She didn't remember him looking like this. He was taller, more imposing than she remembered. His shoulders were wide enough to carry the world. Her inspection moved to his ruggedly handsome face. Navy blue eyes. Deep lines in his cheeks. His sharply angled jaw was softened by firm lips and a dimple in the center of his chin. A flicker of appreciation darted along her nerves, squelched instantly with humiliation. How Shaw McKinney looked had nothing to do with the kind of man he was. His actions had cost her everything.

His eyes bored into her as he came closer, and there was a grim set to his jaw. Her hopes faded. He wasn't any happier to see her than she was to see him. She shouldn't have called him. Asking for his help was a betrayal of her husband's memory. Natalie looked up at her with a sweet little smile, reminding her that she had to think of the girls first. She forced the nausea aside and raised her chin, clasping her trembling hands in her lap.