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As much as he really wanted her with him, more than he would have expected, it wasn’t fair to her. “Thanks, but no. I have no idea what’s going on, but experience tells me I could be waiting for news for hours.”
“All the more reason for someone to be with you.”
Her determination made him smile. “Thanks, but no. I can handle this on my own.”
“You sure?”
He shrugged. “No, but we’ll find out.”
A soft chuckle escaped, followed by a sweet smile.
Jared came within inches of changing his mind, quietly reminding himself it wasn’t fair to make Eve wait this out. He pulled the door shut behind him, glanced up at the expansive Texas sky and said a small prayer. An image of little Jake years ago intently playing on the parlor rug for hours with an old train set Jared had found in the attic while his grandmother worked, made him smile. For that little boy’s sake, Mary had better be up and about, and soon.
Chapter Eight
Ten fifteen in the morning. Even though Eve’s only interaction with Mary had been mostly from church, she liked the woman and felt awful for her and her little grandson. After tossing and turning for hours, unable to stop thinking about Mary’s fall, young Jake, and the toll all of this could take on Jared, Eve finally gave up and decided heading into work early would be the best distraction. Tinkering with a new scent would be perfect for idle hands, except three hours later, Jared heavy on her mind, she had little to show for it.
“I sure hope it’s a man who has you this distracted.” Isabel stood over Eve’s shoulder.
How long had her assistant stood there unnoticed? Dang, Eve was going to have to get her act together this morning. “It’s not a man on my mind.” At least not the way Isabel meant.
“Too bad.” The young woman sighed heavily and shook her head. “But something has you off your game.”
“My game is just fine. I’m worried about a neighbor.”
“Fine, huh?” Isabel lifted her chin in the direction of the latest concoction Eve had been trying unsuccessfully to focus on.
Eve looked down at her work. “What?”
“Had you been paying attention, you would have noticed that this is the third time you’ve dropped MOC into that mixture.”
Brows dipping into a frown, Eve held up the tube of ingredients. Had she really added too much Methyl Octine Carbonate?
“You keep adding that and that lovely hint of a violet scent you’re going for is going to smell like a cucumber salad.”
Letting her hands drop to the table, Eve leaned back. “I should have just stayed in bed.”
“That bad?” Her assistant set a tall cup of coffee in front of her and slid onto the stool beside her. “I added a little Louisiana chicory. You’ll like it.”
The aroma rising from the cup was enough to cheer any coffee lover’s spirits. Eve took a short sip and almost groaned with satisfaction. “You’ve been holding out on me.”
“Nah,” Isabel shook her head, “my cousin Marvin brought me some this weekend after a visit to New Orleans. I was going to share even if you weren’t screwing up.”
Normally, Eve would have shot back a snappy retort, but she really was distracted, by Mary’s accident, Mrs. Gold’s near breakdown, the fate of little Jake, and how deep under her skin Jared had settled in after only a few days. She glanced at her phone on the counter beside her. There was no reason for her to be kept in the loop; still, she’d hoped Jared would find a minute to give her an update, but even more, she really wanted to hear Jared’s voice. Another thing that had her wondering what the heck was going on.
Like the scents she created that lingered in the air and in a person’s memory, Jared was entrenched in the very fiber of her being practically from the minute he startled her into dumping caviar all over herself. Not since Bradley Roman had moved to town in sixth grade and been seated at the desk in front of her had she been so continually flustered by a member of the opposite sex.
“Want to tell me about it?” Cradling the mug in her hands, Isabel blew at the coffee.
It took Eve a second to bring her thoughts back around to the conversation with Isabel. “The ranch house neighbor has had the same housekeeper for decades.”
Isabel nodded, waiting for more.
“Yesterday she took a tumble and knocked herself out. At least that’s what we thought. Turns out she has a ruptured aneurysm.”
“Whoa,” Isabel whistled. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“Nope. The doctors say we should find some reassurance that the rupture didn’t kill her. Apparently, that’s more common than I want to consider at this point. Still, they had to do emergency surgery.”
