“Oh, dear Lord. When we couldn’t find you we thought you were in the building when it happened. I’m so glad you’re all right.”
A chill ran down Ridley’s spine hearing the normally reserved Mrs. Ashton so excited. Even though she helped her with her groceries and random other things around the house, they’d never been particularly close. She’d learned more than once over the years that it just made it harder to move on in the end.
And she’d always had to move on.
“In the building when what happened?”
“There was a fire last night, Ridley. It seems to have started in your bedroom, although no one knows how that’s possible. But all your things are gone. It’s all gone.”
“Oh my god,” Ridley cried.
“The fire department was able to contain it so it didn’t take any of the other rooms in the house. Thank goodness a passerby saw the smoke and called for help.” She paused for a moment, seeming to collect herself. “I wish one of the other units was empty so I could give you one of those when you get back in town, but I just took on an exchange student. I’m fully booked.”
“It’s okay, Mrs. Ashton. I’m staying with family and I was toying with the idea of relocating up here, anyway. I guess fate has made the decision for me…” Her legs trembled, so she sat on the edge of the bed.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
Mrs. Ashton started talking again but she barely heard it. She hadn’t thought she had much to her name, but what was the value of the old photographs of her mother whom she’d never see again? Or her half of the best-friends-forever necklace she and Raina had worn every day in junior high? What about the diaries she’d kept faithfully since high school, recording all her fears, dreams, and girlish wishes? She’d written in those journals until she’d learned the hard way that life wasn’t a fairy tale and there were no handsome princes.
All of it, a lifetime of memories, just gone.
“I have to go. I’m so sorry you were worried about me. I’m just glad you’re okay and no one was hurt in the fire. Thank you for everything.” She hung up and sat staring at the wall in front of her.
It was only when a tear fell on the screen of her phone that she realized she was crying.
* * *
Jackson stood in the doorway to the kitchen and watched as Raina opened the oven. After waiting for fifteen minutes, he’d come looking for her.
The quiet sobs coming through the guest-room door had affected him more than anything in a long time.
Raina closed the oven and turned. “Oh! You scared me. I didn’t even hear you walk up.”
Her long lashes were still spiky and wet from her tears. The effect was like a punch to the gut.
What was it about this girl?
Just the thought of her in pain was like a knife to the chest. He cleared his throat and backed up a step.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. When you didn’t come outside, I figured you found something better to do.”
Her face fell. “I’m so sorry. I totally forgot I was supposed to help with the grill.”
“Sure, sure. You ditched me for something better. I get it.” He heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Hey, I don’t blame you. Cleaning gunk off a grill is hardly an irresistible proposition. But I was really hurt by that, just so you know. The only thing that will help is if you promise to share whatever that is that smells so good.”
Her lips twitched. “You’re crazy. I was going to share anyway. No guilt trip needed. I was just about to take it out of the oven.”
“You really didn’t have to cook. I was just going to order something.” Jackson was truly in awe. She’d made an entire dish in less time than it took him to figure out where the plates were in his own kitchen.
“Well, I wanted to do something to make up for how rude I was yesterday. I shouldn’t have just left like that.”
“You don’t have to apologize. I would have walked out, too.”
“At least I know you aren’t a vegetarian since your refrigerator is filled with nothing but raw meat. The freezer and pantry were only a little better, but I was able to find some frozen chicken breast and some canned vegetables.”
“I haven’t had time to shop lately, so we’ve only got the meat I’m marinating for the cookout tomorrow. I have to confess, we mainly eat microwave dinners. The only time we get home-cooked meals is when my mom comes. My mom’s a feminist, so I’m pretty sure raising a son who can’t cook is one of her lifelong disappointments.”
His stomach grumbled loudly and they both laughed at the unexpected noise in the otherwise quiet kitchen. She slid her hand into an oven mitt and pulled open the oven. His mouth watered as a savory aroma immediately filled the room. She placed the dish carefully on the stovetop.
“Well, I can hear you’re hungry, so let’s dig in. I also made string beans with potatoes. I couldn’t find anything else to make in the pantry.” She started scooping food onto plates.
“I’m working on hiring someone to watch the boys and maybe cook a few times a week. None of the nannies I’ve interviewed have worked out so far.” He held up his hands at the large servings she was dishing up. “I don’t think I can eat all that!”
“Oh… actually this is mine.” She turned back to her plate and giggled a little. It looked like it was heavier than she was. “I haven’t had time to cook much lately, so I need a home-cooked meal myself.” She settled down with her food and hummed as she bit off a piece of chicken.
They ate at the breakfast bar in the kitchen. He couldn’t stop himself from staring as she got up to get a second helping.
“What! I’m not one of those girls who eat a salad and claim to be full. I’m hungry!”
“No, don’t apologize. I appreciate a woman who can eat.” He didn’t add that he also appreciated the aftereffect of a healthy appetite, namely the soft curves stretching out her jeans and tee shirt. She already thought he was a pig. If she knew why he was really staring, she’d probably dump the casserole dish over his head.
“So, where were you coming from?”
Her hand paused before she speared another bite of food. “Florida. That’s where I went to college.”
“It’s weird; I thought I read somewhere that you didn’t go to college.”
“Oh, I didn’t finish.” Raina looked away. “That’s probably why. Anyway, I still have friends there. What about you? Have you always lived here?”
“Virginian, born and bred. My parents have a farm not too far from here. I went to college across the water in Norfolk. Dropped out before I finished, too. I was too busy playing the guitar to study anything useful.”
She looked around. “Well, apparently you studied something useful.”
“Not everyone thinks so. It was a long time before I started earning enough to make a living. Then I got my break about two years ago when a major country star liked one of my songs enough to record it.”
Her eyes widened and he grinned, enjoying her shock. “Are you surprised? Let me guess, you assumed I was into R&B or hip-hop music, right?”
“Okay, you got me. Those were totally stereotypical assumptions to make. I hate when people assume they know me before I even open my mouth, so I’m a little ashamed that I’m guilty of doing it, too.” She propped her head on her fist as she watched him. “So, what got you into country music?”