turned to face Claire. "I don't mean to pry, but where are you from and what are you doing here in Capitola?" Her voice was kind.
Even so Claire's palms began to sweat. "I drove up from L.A. to start a new life. Now I need a job so I can get my car fixed and rent my own place." She followed Nancy to the side of the bed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come. But Tom offered, and I didn't know what to do—"
"You did the right thing. And we're happy to have you here. Oh, don't mind Tom. He's going through a rough patch lately—we both are. But we want you to know that you're welcome to stay until you find a place."
Why would these people be so friendly to her? It's as if she were a long-lost relative returning home.
Nancy sat on the edge of the bed. "The truth of the matter is Tom and I wanted to know where you went this morning. And when Tom looked out the window and saw you with that man, we didn't know what to think."
Claire's breath caught in her throat. "I only met him."
Nancy's brows shot up.
Suddenly Claire felt like a teenager. "No, it's coming out all wrong." She paced the room. "I went looking for a particular house this morning and found out it's for rent. By the time I wanted to come back, it was raining so hard the neighbor gave me a ride."
Claire could tell Nancy was deep in thought by the way she furrowed her brows and worked her lower lip. "Where is this house you're interested in?" Nancy grabbed one of the cookies and took a bite, then gestured for Claire to join her.
"Depot Hill." Claire broke a cookie in half, dipped it in milk, and popped the soggy bite into her mouth.
"Nice area. Homes for rent don't come up there very often. "Nancy had a lilt to her voice. "Why don't you show me?"
Why would Nancy want to see the house on Saxon Avenue? It didn't make sense.
Fire trucks blocked Saxon Avenue. "What's going on?" Claire shifted from side to side in the passenger's seat of Nancy's Toyota Camry. "Do you want to park here and walk since it's stopped raining?"
Nancy swerved to the right and pulled next to the curb on Central Avenue. Claire hopped out of the car and fell in beside Nancy as they trekked around the corner to see the emergency.
Claire's heart pounded. If anything happened to her house . . . she rolled her eyes at the thought. Of course it wasn't her house yet. She'd need a miracle. But Claire didn't believe in miracles, not like her mother. "I'll get well, you'll see," her mom had said countless times, even when she was close to death. And did she? No! So much for miracles.
Claire tugged on Nancy's arm. "You're a nurse. Someone might need you."
Nancy quickened her pace. "I don't see an ambulance."
Claire spotted Blake. He was talking to a fireman. "Nancy, come on!" Claire sprinted through the puddles toward the crowd that had formed. Dark, billowing smoke dissipated as the firemen doused the right side of Blake's gray house.
"Blake!" Claire approached him with tentative steps.
He stared straight ahead. He blinked a few times and wiped his face with the cuff of his flannel shirt. Claire sidled up next to him. "What happened?" Maybe he'd rather not talk to her. After all, they barely knew each other.
"It's my fault." Blake shrugged his shoulders.
Claire touched his arm, then pulled her hand back. "What do you mean?"
"I left a dish towel too close to my gas stove while a burner was on."
"When?"
"Earlier today. I was making a pot of soup for lunch when I saw you through the window and grabbed the keys for the rental. I thought I turned it off, but apparently it was still on low."
Blake folded his arms across his chest and shook his head.
Nancy came up beside them. "I heard a fireman say you had a kitchen fire. I'm glad you weren't hurt. As a nurse I've seen far too many burn victims."
Claire's stomach churned. The fire could've been prevented if she hadn't let Blake show her the rental. Why had she bothered? She couldn't afford the house anyway. Guilt nagged at her.
"I bought the
Even so Claire's palms began to sweat. "I drove up from L.A. to start a new life. Now I need a job so I can get my car fixed and rent my own place." She followed Nancy to the side of the bed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come. But Tom offered, and I didn't know what to do—"
"You did the right thing. And we're happy to have you here. Oh, don't mind Tom. He's going through a rough patch lately—we both are. But we want you to know that you're welcome to stay until you find a place."
Why would these people be so friendly to her? It's as if she were a long-lost relative returning home.
Nancy sat on the edge of the bed. "The truth of the matter is Tom and I wanted to know where you went this morning. And when Tom looked out the window and saw you with that man, we didn't know what to think."
Claire's breath caught in her throat. "I only met him."
Nancy's brows shot up.
Suddenly Claire felt like a teenager. "No, it's coming out all wrong." She paced the room. "I went looking for a particular house this morning and found out it's for rent. By the time I wanted to come back, it was raining so hard the neighbor gave me a ride."
Claire could tell Nancy was deep in thought by the way she furrowed her brows and worked her lower lip. "Where is this house you're interested in?" Nancy grabbed one of the cookies and took a bite, then gestured for Claire to join her.
"Depot Hill." Claire broke a cookie in half, dipped it in milk, and popped the soggy bite into her mouth.
"Nice area. Homes for rent don't come up there very often. "Nancy had a lilt to her voice. "Why don't you show me?"
Why would Nancy want to see the house on Saxon Avenue? It didn't make sense.
Fire trucks blocked Saxon Avenue. "What's going on?" Claire shifted from side to side in the passenger's seat of Nancy's Toyota Camry. "Do you want to park here and walk since it's stopped raining?"
Nancy swerved to the right and pulled next to the curb on Central Avenue. Claire hopped out of the car and fell in beside Nancy as they trekked around the corner to see the emergency.
Claire's heart pounded. If anything happened to her house . . . she rolled her eyes at the thought. Of course it wasn't her house yet. She'd need a miracle. But Claire didn't believe in miracles, not like her mother. "I'll get well, you'll see," her mom had said countless times, even when she was close to death. And did she? No! So much for miracles.
Claire tugged on Nancy's arm. "You're a nurse. Someone might need you."
Nancy quickened her pace. "I don't see an ambulance."
Claire spotted Blake. He was talking to a fireman. "Nancy, come on!" Claire sprinted through the puddles toward the crowd that had formed. Dark, billowing smoke dissipated as the firemen doused the right side of Blake's gray house.
"Blake!" Claire approached him with tentative steps.
He stared straight ahead. He blinked a few times and wiped his face with the cuff of his flannel shirt. Claire sidled up next to him. "What happened?" Maybe he'd rather not talk to her. After all, they barely knew each other.
"It's my fault." Blake shrugged his shoulders.
Claire touched his arm, then pulled her hand back. "What do you mean?"
"I left a dish towel too close to my gas stove while a burner was on."
"When?"
"Earlier today. I was making a pot of soup for lunch when I saw you through the window and grabbed the keys for the rental. I thought I turned it off, but apparently it was still on low."
Blake folded his arms across his chest and shook his head.
Nancy came up beside them. "I heard a fireman say you had a kitchen fire. I'm glad you weren't hurt. As a nurse I've seen far too many burn victims."
Claire's stomach churned. The fire could've been prevented if she hadn't let Blake show her the rental. Why had she bothered? She couldn't afford the house anyway. Guilt nagged at her.
"I bought the
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