Page 9 of Never Fall Again
“Come with me for a few minutes. We need to talk to Aunt Carla.”
Abby caught his eye, and he gave her a wink and a thumbs-up. Her grin lit the room before she turned and skipped down the hall.
“Eliza”—Landry knelt beside her daughter, presumably so they would be eye to eye—“I need to talk to you about something.”
Cal froze. He shouldn’t be here. But Maisy rubbed against his leg before making her way to the small huddle formed by the Huttons. She wiggled between them, and Eliza laughed. Cal took the opportunity to go to the window and give them a semblance of privacy.
Not that he didn’t strain to hear every word.
“What is it, Mommy?”
“I don’t know everything yet, but there’s been a fire at The Haven.”
Eliza’s muffled cry of fear had Cal turning around before he could stop himself. Her eyes bounced from her mother’s to his. “Do you know what happened?”
Cal followed Landry’s lead and took a seat on the floor. “Not much. We’re going to find out. I think that’s what your mom wants to talk to you about.”
Landry gave him what he took to be a grateful smile, then spoke to Eliza. “Abby’s invited you to go with her family for pizza. Would you—”
“Yes! Can we leave now? Please? I can go, right?”
Landry pulled her daughter in for a hug. “It’s fine with me if you want to.”
“I want to. She said she wanted to invite me over, but her mom said she had to meet you first.”
“That’s true. But now I’ve met Abby and her mom. So you can go.”
Eliza threw her arms around Landry’s neck and squeezed. “Thank you!” But as she pulled back, her face morphed from joy to concern. “Will you be by yourself?”
Landry pulled Eliza until she sat in her lap. “I won’t be by myself. You go have fun with your friend, and I’ll come pick you up in a little while.”
Eliza snuggled into Landry. “I love you, Mommy.”
An echo of a memory, a young voice, a blond head, chubby hands...and sharp pain pierced him. Cal shook it off.
For the present? He would help Landry Hutton because Bronwyn had asked him to. But only because Bronwyn asked. He’d learned hard lessons in the past. He had no plans to make the same mistakes in the present.
Five minutes later, Landry waved goodbye to Eliza and then paused by the door of the large black truck Cal indicated was his. Cal opened her door and pointed to the step that would allow her to climb in without needing a boost. “Thanks.” He closed the door, and she took a few seconds to breathe.
The truck smelled like sawdust, earth, something clean and fresh—maybe Cal’s shampoo or soap—and the faintest hint of golden retriever.
The golden retriever responsible for that scent scrambled into the truck when Cal opened the driver’s-side door. Maisy flopped down half in Landry’s lap and bumped her muzzle against her chest.
“Persistent, isn’t she?” Landry stroked the dog’s soft fur and took a moment to rest her face on Maisy’s head.
“She’s a nag.” There was no heat in his words, and Cal reached over to pat Maisy before he cranked the truck and pulled out of the parking lot.
“Don’t listen to him,” Landry crooned to Maisy. “He’s jealous because you’re giving me all your attention. Yes, he is.”
Maisy’s tail beat a rhythm on the truck seat, and Cal’s throaty chuckle filled the space. “Nah.” He turned onto the main road out of town. “Maisy’s love tank can’t be depleted. She has enough to go around.”
They drove in silence, and Landry appreciated the time to gather her thoughts. This wasn’t the first time her life had been turned upside down in the space of a heartbeat. As bad as this had the potential to be—loss of property, loss of income, loss of time—it was unlikely to have the same world-altering impact as the last time.
And she had real friends this time. Not the fake friends who’d refused to believe her when she told them she was afraid.
Her phone buzzed, and she scooted Maisy over so she could retrieve it from her back pocket. The text was from Naomi, and the photo made her heart stutter. Not in fear but delight. Eliza and Abby were ensconced in the center of a huge round booth in the corner of what she recognized as the pizza restaurant/grocery store that she still found charmingly bizarre. In front of the girls were the hard, red plastic cups so common in pizza restaurants, and the text said, “Don’t worry. It’s lemonade. No caffeine for these two.” The girls were laughing, and even through the photograph Eliza could sense their abandon and freedom.
“Everything okay?” Cal’s deep voice rumbled from her left.