Read Online Second Chance (Cold Springs Series Book 1) by Nancy Henderson - Free Book Online
Authors: Nancy Henderson
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appeared from the back room. “Thanks.”
“For what?” She hoped to God he hadn’t heard the entire conversation.
“You didn’t buy into the gossip about me.”
Sam shrugged, tried to hide her embarrassment that he’d heard her mother. Part of her did buy into it, and that part of her feared him just a little now. The other part, the rational side, knew she had a job to do and Ian Woods filled that need. “You’re a lot cheaper than most contractors out there.”
“I need all the money I can get. Look, if you don’t want to hire me because of my past…”
“It’s none of my business.”
He nodded. “I appreciate that.”
He was standing close, and Sam suddenly became very aware of him. She wanted to ask him if everything Mother said about his past was true. Prison for murder seemed very far-fetched, the stuff of novels, but if he did go up for murder, how come Burt said he could be trusted? Nothing about murder was trustworthy. “Burt says you’re not a danger.”
“You can trust Burt.”
Sam looked down at her shoes. Worn tennis sneakers stained in stove grease and spaghetti sauce. As if on cue, the door opened and Burt came in. “Mornin’.”
Sam hurried to get Burt’s coffee, eager to get away from Ian. “Good morning, Burt.”
Burt perched himself on one of the counter stools. “What’s for breakfast?”
“Today’s special is cheese omelet, home fries, and coffee.” She winked. They weren’t open for business yet, but she was willing to cook him breakfast. It would be good practice.
Burt gave a miserable look. “What kind of special is that? It’s on the menu.”
“I’ll knocked fifty cents off.”
“A special is something not ordinarily in the menu. It’s special. That’s why it’s called the special.”
Ian put his tools away and headed toward the door without a word to anyone.
“Ian, wait.” Sam quickly poured a cup of coffee into a Styrofoam cup. “Take this with you.”
“Thanks.” He hesitated, holding her gaze. Sam’s heart skipped unexpectedly. His eyes were ice blue, almost as if he wore colored contacts which somehow she doubted.
“Are we still on for pizza?”
His smile was infectious. “Sure, if you want. I’ll give you a call.”
Sam nodded, hoping Burt hadn’t caught any of the conversation. Not that he wouldn’t find out eventually anyway. When it came to gossip, Burt was about as prolific in it as her mother and sister.
When she turned toward him, he was grinning, but to his credit he said nothing. “Thanks for the kitten, Burt.”
Burt grinned from ear to ear. "I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Uh-huh.” She poured herself a cup of coffee and took a slow sip.
~ * ~
Ian didn’t know if he should call Sam or just show up. He paced the small second-story studio apartment he called home. It was barely six hundred square feet, but it was perfectly fine for him, and he felt lucky to have a roof over his head.
It was two rooms: one large space with a small row of cupboards and a countertop and sink to the left and a tiny bathroom with a small shower, toilet and sink. Burt allowed him to rent it for a hundred dollars a month. Ian knew the old man was cutting him a deal, and Ian vowed to make it up to him. Burt had been the only one to stand by him in this town. He was a friend when his family and those he thought were his friends had turned their backs on him. For that, Ian would be forever grateful to Burt.
Ian checked his appearance in the mirror. For God’s sake, it was just pizza, but he had changed into the best jeans and T-shirt he owned. He didn’t own many clothes, just enough to get by every couple of days before he had to do laundry again.
Running a comb through his hair again, he grabbed his keys and headed out the door. He hurried down the steep
“For what?” She hoped to God he hadn’t heard the entire conversation.
“You didn’t buy into the gossip about me.”
Sam shrugged, tried to hide her embarrassment that he’d heard her mother. Part of her did buy into it, and that part of her feared him just a little now. The other part, the rational side, knew she had a job to do and Ian Woods filled that need. “You’re a lot cheaper than most contractors out there.”
“I need all the money I can get. Look, if you don’t want to hire me because of my past…”
“It’s none of my business.”
He nodded. “I appreciate that.”
He was standing close, and Sam suddenly became very aware of him. She wanted to ask him if everything Mother said about his past was true. Prison for murder seemed very far-fetched, the stuff of novels, but if he did go up for murder, how come Burt said he could be trusted? Nothing about murder was trustworthy. “Burt says you’re not a danger.”
“You can trust Burt.”
Sam looked down at her shoes. Worn tennis sneakers stained in stove grease and spaghetti sauce. As if on cue, the door opened and Burt came in. “Mornin’.”
Sam hurried to get Burt’s coffee, eager to get away from Ian. “Good morning, Burt.”
Burt perched himself on one of the counter stools. “What’s for breakfast?”
“Today’s special is cheese omelet, home fries, and coffee.” She winked. They weren’t open for business yet, but she was willing to cook him breakfast. It would be good practice.
Burt gave a miserable look. “What kind of special is that? It’s on the menu.”
“I’ll knocked fifty cents off.”
“A special is something not ordinarily in the menu. It’s special. That’s why it’s called the special.”
Ian put his tools away and headed toward the door without a word to anyone.
“Ian, wait.” Sam quickly poured a cup of coffee into a Styrofoam cup. “Take this with you.”
“Thanks.” He hesitated, holding her gaze. Sam’s heart skipped unexpectedly. His eyes were ice blue, almost as if he wore colored contacts which somehow she doubted.
“Are we still on for pizza?”
His smile was infectious. “Sure, if you want. I’ll give you a call.”
Sam nodded, hoping Burt hadn’t caught any of the conversation. Not that he wouldn’t find out eventually anyway. When it came to gossip, Burt was about as prolific in it as her mother and sister.
When she turned toward him, he was grinning, but to his credit he said nothing. “Thanks for the kitten, Burt.”
Burt grinned from ear to ear. "I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Uh-huh.” She poured herself a cup of coffee and took a slow sip.
~ * ~
Ian didn’t know if he should call Sam or just show up. He paced the small second-story studio apartment he called home. It was barely six hundred square feet, but it was perfectly fine for him, and he felt lucky to have a roof over his head.
It was two rooms: one large space with a small row of cupboards and a countertop and sink to the left and a tiny bathroom with a small shower, toilet and sink. Burt allowed him to rent it for a hundred dollars a month. Ian knew the old man was cutting him a deal, and Ian vowed to make it up to him. Burt had been the only one to stand by him in this town. He was a friend when his family and those he thought were his friends had turned their backs on him. For that, Ian would be forever grateful to Burt.
Ian checked his appearance in the mirror. For God’s sake, it was just pizza, but he had changed into the best jeans and T-shirt he owned. He didn’t own many clothes, just enough to get by every couple of days before he had to do laundry again.
Running a comb through his hair again, he grabbed his keys and headed out the door. He hurried down the steep
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