The One Safe Place

He was so unhappy, she thought with a twist of pain. And she had no idea how to help him.

Suddenly overcome by her own incompetence—if she couldn’t control a simple vacuum cleaner, how was she going to cope with parenting a traumatized little boy?—she sank to her knees. She glared at the vacuum and wondered what on earth to do now.

Frankly, she had no idea. As anyone could tell you, Faith was the world’s worst housekeeper.

It wasn’t something she’d ever been ashamed of before. She worked hard all day, and her interior design company was successful. So she hired a “domestic technician” to perform lemony magic at her apartment once a week.

Sometimes on Fridays Faith opened her door with her eyes shut, just to savor the sparkling fresh smell that said Delilah had been there. She valued a clean house, all right. She just didn’t have a clue how to make it happen except by writing a check.

Still, how hard could it be? She wiggled her middle finger down the tube of the vacuum, but encountered nothing but smooth plastic. She squinted into it, but saw only blackness. She tapped it against the floor as hard as she dared, but nothing emerged except a puff of dirt that billowed up into her eyes and mouth.

Coughing, she scanned the room. She could not face Reed Fairmont and tell him that she had lost a wrestling match with a vacuum cleaner. Especially after she’d so stupidly wept all over his shirt last night.

He undoubtedly already thought she was a weakling. She couldn’t add hopeless incompetent to the mix.

She was smart. She was creative. She could think of something…

Of course! A metal hanger.

Five minutes later she’d broken two fingernails, the stitches in her shoulder ached and the hanger was wedged down the long snout, as lost as the tassel. She rubbed her stinging, sooty eyes and made a mental note to give Delilah a raise. A big one.

“Well, well,” a dry voice observed. “You must be the new housekeeper.”

Faith looked up. A tidy little woman, probably seventy-something, stood in the doorway, a casserole dish in her hands and wry amusement in her sharp brown eyes. The woman was all skin and bones, but somehow so authoritative in her plain—but very expensive—black pantsuit that Faith found herself scrambling to her feet.

“Hi,” she said, trying to brush the dirt from her white polo shirt. How stupid to have chosen white! “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you knock.”

“I don’t knock,” the other woman said. “I’m Theo Burke.”

Faith hesitated, unsure whether that was a non sequitur.

“Good heavens.” Theo Burke chuckled. “That was pretty cocky, even for me. I just meant I have a key. Reed and I go way back. I’ve been bringing him dinner three days a week since Melissa died. Not that he needs it anymore, the lazy scamp. It’s just a habit now, but we both like it.”

“I can understand why. It smells fantastic.” Faith held out her hand, hoping it wasn’t too grimy. “It’s nice to meet you, Theo. I’m Faith Constable, Dr. Fairmont’s new housekeeper.”

“I knew it. They’re talking about you in town. They said you didn’t look like a housekeeper.” Theo let her gaze skim the mess on the floor. “I’m inclined to agree.”

Faith took a breath. “Well, I—”

“Not that it matters. You’re pretty enough, and young enough—no one will ever care. It’s only when you get to be an old prune like me that people expect you to be good at things.”

Faith stared at the older woman, wishing she could explain why she was here, why she was posing as a housekeeper, when even a blind person could tell she was nothing of the sort. She knew it didn’t really matter what Theo Burke, whoever she was, thought of her. But darn it—she was good at things. Lots of things. Just not domestic things.

“We’d better get this straightened up.” Theo set the casserole, which was wrapped in a thermal covering, on one of the elegant wooden end tables. “Don’t want Reed to come in and find the house a wreck on your first day. Melissa spoiled him rotten, of course. She was the perfect wife. She could scrub tubs, baste a pheasant and win the Miss America contest all at the same time. If she hadn’t been such a sweetie, every female in Firefly Glen would have hated her gorgeous guts.”

Faith blinked. This level of candor was rather amazing. The small-town style, no doubt. In the city, you were lucky to get a hello grunt.

“Anyhow,” Theo continued, “let’s see what can be done. How bloody was the battle? Did you actually kill the poor vacuum, or just maim it?”

“I—” Faith shook her head and numbly picked up the long gray nozzle. The looped end of a metal hanger stuck out like a rude tongue. “To be honest, I don’t know. It all started when I pointed that thing at one of the curtain tie-backs. It just got worse from there.”

Theo laughed, a surprisingly warm, pleasant sound, considering how acerbic her conversation had been so far. “Oh, this is just a flesh wound. Let Dr. Theo do a little surgery.”

As Faith stepped back, she noticed that Spencer had brought Tigger over to get a better look at Theo. Boy and dog were peeking around the edge of a large rose-colored armchair.

Theo saw him at that moment, too. “That your son?”

“My nephew.” Faith tried to motion Spencer out of hiding. “Spencer, this is Ms. Burke.”

But Spencer wasn’t moving. He was just a pair of round, dark eyes under a mess of spiky brown hair. He held Tigger tightly in his arms.

“None of this Ms. Burke stuff. Everybody calls me Theo. Everybody I like, that is, and I already know I like you, Spencer. Know how I know?”

Spencer’s brow wrinkled subtly. Faith could tell he was curious, but of course he didn’t say a word.

Luckily, Theo didn’t seem to require an answer. “I’ll tell you how I know,” she said, unscrewing the body of the vacuum with a tiny silver tool she had whisked out of her pocket. “I know because your dog likes you. Dogs know who the good people are.”

She held out the loose screw. “Hold these for me, would you, Spencer? And don’t drop them.”

To Faith’s amazement, Spencer inched out from behind the chair. He took three steps closer to the vacuum cleaner and opened his small palm. Theo dropped the screws into his hand and went on working, as if nothing peculiar had happened.

Faith, too, tried to pretend nonchalance. It was such a little thing, compared to the old Spencer, who had always been sociable and talkative. But the new Spencer rarely even made eye contact with strangers.

After a few minutes, Theo tugged out the green tassel. It was crumpled and dingy, but intact. Then she wiggled the hanger free, too.

She held it up with a smile. “You were lucky. Could have done some real damage with this, but you just melted the belt.”

She tilted her head and scrutinized Faith, who was sucking on her index finger, trying to soothe it where the nail had broken below the quick. Faith stopped with a guilty start and tucked her hand behind her back as if she had something to hide.

“Okay, I’ve got to know.” Theo grinned, suddenly looking twenty years younger. “It’s none of my business, but I’m going to ask you anyhow. I always do. Anybody can tell you that.”

“Ask me what?”

“What made a woman like you decide to take a job as a housekeeper? I’d be willing to bet the cost of that glamorous manicure that you’ve never actually touched a vacuum cleaner before.”

“Well, of course I ha—”

Theo’s prim silver eyebrows arched, and Faith’s fib died on her lips.

“You’re right,” she said. “I am very new to this. I’ve never used one of these canister vacuums, and I haven’t a clue how to baste a pheasant, either. Sadly, I’m no Melissa Fairmont.”

Theo let out a gruff bark of laughter. “You can say that again. Melissa could have built you a whole new vacuum cleaner with just this hanger, two stamps and a thumbtack.”

Faith smiled ruefully. So Reed Fairmont was used to living with a domestic goddess. Poor man. He volunteered to do a good deed, and look what happened. A domestic dummy invaded his lovely house, drenched his shirt and melted his belt. He was probably already kicking himself hard for being such a patsy.

She took a deep breath. “It’s all right, Theo. I think I know what you’re trying to tell me, and I really do appreciate the warning.”

Theo rose with a grunt and handed the screwdriver to Spencer. “Put that back together for me, would you, please? You saw how I took it apart, right?”