have to put money into it. Handrails in the bathroom, a handheld showerhead, and a ramp at the front steps in case Emma needs a wheelchair. Things like that. I’ve got a list of home improvement suggestions from the elder-care consultant.”
Justine shook her head slowly. “You’re going to need a lot of cash.”
A forelock of hair had slipped loose from her ponytail. Justine tugged on it absently, as she often did while deep in thought. “What if I buy the cottage at a fair price, and let you stay there rent-free? You can use the money to take care of Emma. I’ll even pay for the remodel.”
Zoë’s eyes widened. “I couldn’t let you do that.”
“Why not?”
“It wouldn’t be fair to you.”
“I’ll make the money back later by renting it out after Emma … well, after the two of you don’t need it anymore.”
“You haven’t even seen the place.”
“I want to help any way I can. I’m responsible for Emma, too.”
“Not really. She’s not a blood relation, she’s your great-great-aunt by marriage.”
“Her last name’s Hoffman. That’s good enough for me.”
Zoë smiled, reflecting that beneath her cousin’s cheerful audacity, there was an underpinning of compassion. Justine was a kind person. People didn’t always realize how deeply it went, or how vulnerable it made her.
“I really love you, Justine.”
“I know, I know …” Uncomfortable as always with displays of affection, Justine waved her hand dismissively in the air. “We’ll need to find someone to start fixing up the house right away. Any contractor who does decent work is going to be booked up, and even the good ones are as slow as a wet weekend.” She paused. “Except … maybe … well, I don’t know …”
“You have someone in mind?”
“Sam Nolan’s brother Alex. He’s built some houses out at Roche—he does great work, and in the past he was known for being reliable. But he went through a divorce, and one of his real estate development deals fell through, and rumors are that he’s turned into a boozer. So I don’t know what the story is with him. I haven’t seen him in a while. I’ll get the lowdown from Sam.”
Zoë dropped her gaze to the cat in her lap and stroked his lavish fur. Byron wriggled and curled into a doughnut shape. “I … I met him, actually.” She took care to keep her voice casual. “When I went to Rainshadow Road to visit Lucy. He was doing some work on the house.”
“You didn’t mention it.” Justine’s brows lifted. “What did you think of him?”
Zoë shrugged uncomfortably. “We talked for all of ten seconds. I didn’t really have a chance to get an impression.”
A slow grin spread across Justine’s face. “You are the worst liar ever. Tell me.”
Zoë struggled to reply, her thoughts refusing to shape themselves into words. How could she explain her reaction to Alex Nolan? Striking, unsettling, his features austerely perfect, his eyes bright as if lit with the last spare voltage of his humanity. He looked thoroughly disillusioned, everything that had been tender and hopeful in him now crushed into diamond hardness. Thankfully he’d paid little attention to her, dismissing her as beneath his notice. That was just fine with Zoë.
From her early teens onward, men had always made certain assumptions about her, with the result that nice men stayed away and left the field open for the not-so-nice ones. She had always been approached by the kind of man who viewed hunting and seducing an attractive woman as a sport. If he got a woman into bed, he won the game. Zoë didn’t want to be a notch on some guy’s belt, and she didn’t want to be used.
She had thought that in marrying Chris, she had finally found someone who would value her for who she was. He was a caring and sensitive man who had always listened to her and treated her with respect and honesty. That had made it all the more devastating when Chris had told her a year after their wedding that he was
Justine shook her head slowly. “You’re going to need a lot of cash.”
A forelock of hair had slipped loose from her ponytail. Justine tugged on it absently, as she often did while deep in thought. “What if I buy the cottage at a fair price, and let you stay there rent-free? You can use the money to take care of Emma. I’ll even pay for the remodel.”
Zoë’s eyes widened. “I couldn’t let you do that.”
“Why not?”
“It wouldn’t be fair to you.”
“I’ll make the money back later by renting it out after Emma … well, after the two of you don’t need it anymore.”
“You haven’t even seen the place.”
“I want to help any way I can. I’m responsible for Emma, too.”
“Not really. She’s not a blood relation, she’s your great-great-aunt by marriage.”
“Her last name’s Hoffman. That’s good enough for me.”
Zoë smiled, reflecting that beneath her cousin’s cheerful audacity, there was an underpinning of compassion. Justine was a kind person. People didn’t always realize how deeply it went, or how vulnerable it made her.
“I really love you, Justine.”
“I know, I know …” Uncomfortable as always with displays of affection, Justine waved her hand dismissively in the air. “We’ll need to find someone to start fixing up the house right away. Any contractor who does decent work is going to be booked up, and even the good ones are as slow as a wet weekend.” She paused. “Except … maybe … well, I don’t know …”
“You have someone in mind?”
“Sam Nolan’s brother Alex. He’s built some houses out at Roche—he does great work, and in the past he was known for being reliable. But he went through a divorce, and one of his real estate development deals fell through, and rumors are that he’s turned into a boozer. So I don’t know what the story is with him. I haven’t seen him in a while. I’ll get the lowdown from Sam.”
Zoë dropped her gaze to the cat in her lap and stroked his lavish fur. Byron wriggled and curled into a doughnut shape. “I … I met him, actually.” She took care to keep her voice casual. “When I went to Rainshadow Road to visit Lucy. He was doing some work on the house.”
“You didn’t mention it.” Justine’s brows lifted. “What did you think of him?”
Zoë shrugged uncomfortably. “We talked for all of ten seconds. I didn’t really have a chance to get an impression.”
A slow grin spread across Justine’s face. “You are the worst liar ever. Tell me.”
Zoë struggled to reply, her thoughts refusing to shape themselves into words. How could she explain her reaction to Alex Nolan? Striking, unsettling, his features austerely perfect, his eyes bright as if lit with the last spare voltage of his humanity. He looked thoroughly disillusioned, everything that had been tender and hopeful in him now crushed into diamond hardness. Thankfully he’d paid little attention to her, dismissing her as beneath his notice. That was just fine with Zoë.
From her early teens onward, men had always made certain assumptions about her, with the result that nice men stayed away and left the field open for the not-so-nice ones. She had always been approached by the kind of man who viewed hunting and seducing an attractive woman as a sport. If he got a woman into bed, he won the game. Zoë didn’t want to be a notch on some guy’s belt, and she didn’t want to be used.
She had thought that in marrying Chris, she had finally found someone who would value her for who she was. He was a caring and sensitive man who had always listened to her and treated her with respect and honesty. That had made it all the more devastating when Chris had told her a year after their wedding that he was
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