No Ordinary Home

Finn shrugged because they’d debated that point to death. Austin knew his buddy thought he should have walked away years ago.

He held up another finger. “How about the kids?”

The kids were a group of teens in Ordinary with whom Austin spent time shooting hoops and making sure they stayed out of trouble. He planned to help by giving them jobs on his ranch when it was up and running, by teaching them skills they would need when they got out into the world. They had nothing, reminding him too much of himself at that age.

“That’s good work that keeps them off the streets. Besides, if it’s so bad, why are you going to help teach them about animals once I get the ranch?”

“Because I like animals and kids, not because I’m neurotic about helping every sad-eyed waif who comes along.”

Finn had hit the nail on the head. Despite Gracie’s tough shell, a sad-eyed waif lingered inside. Finn wasn’t as oblivious and unaffected as he pretended to be. There was more depth there than met the eye. Just as there was with Gracie.

Finn held up a third finger. “Roger.”

Ordinary, Montana, was small but had a couple of poor old drunks whom Austin threw into jail periodically just so they could sleep indoors. He’d organized a system of sorts to find them beds every night during the winter—in the back room of Chester’s restaurant, in C.J.’s barn for a few nights, wherever Austin could get them a spot. One of those homeless men was old Roger, who’d fallen apart after his wife of forty-two years had died. He had no one on this earth on whom he could depend but folks in his hometown. What was so wrong with Austin taking care of him?

Guys like Roger had mental health issues. Who knew what Grace’s problem was?

“Gracie needs help, Finn. She was desperate enough to rob me. She said she’d never done that before and I believe her.”

“You’re a sucker. You’re supposed to be on vacation, taking a holiday from helping people.” Finn paced in the foyer to offset his nervous energy. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

“Do what? I’m giving her a bed for the night and breakfast tomorrow. That’s it. Nothing more. Then we’ll go our separate ways.”

“That woman is trouble. She even has us fighting.”

“Fine,” Austin said, testy. “Let’s stop fighting. You take one room and I’ll take the other with Gracie. Okay?” He didn’t like the idea, but it had to be done. He’d already told her he would get her a room for the night and he wasn’t a man to go back on his word. If he had to, he would sleep on the floor, even if that thought held as much appeal as a bad case of fleas.

Finn didn’t respond, just nodded, but it looked like he was maybe biting the inside of his cheek so he wouldn’t argue more. Or so he wouldn’t laugh.

Austin punched him on the arm.

“Ow. What was that for?” But Finn laughed openly at Austin’s discomfort.

Austin sighed. How had the night come to this?

Grace came out of the washroom down the hall, pale and sweating.

Damn. Great start to their vacation, the two of them bickering over a woman Austin didn’t even know, and that woman looking sick as a dog.

* * *

GRACIE COULD HAVE CRIED, her gastric distress a waste of calories she desperately needed. She didn’t know how long she’d stayed in the washroom before she was done, but was finally able to emerge with her hands washed and her face rinsed with cold water.

In the lobby, she found the men waiting, Finn’s expression an odd mix of triumph and dismay, while Austin looked tense and unable to meet her eyes. What was going on?

Once they got to their rooms and Gracie saw the double bed in the hotel room—and Austin dumping his hockey bag onto that bed—she ran for the door, shooting at him over her shoulder as she left, “I told you I wouldn’t pay for lunch with sex.”

Austin followed and slammed the door closed before she could leave. “For God’s sake, be quiet before someone calls security.”

He looked genuinely offended. “I don’t want sex,” he shouted. “This is all that’s available.” He slammed his hand against the wall. “I’m not asking you to sleep with me. How many times do I have to say it? Who’d want to go to bed with someone as skinny as you, anyway?”

His remark hurt. She might be homeless, but she was still a woman. He explained about the hotel having no more rooms left with single beds or with two doubles. Not even a spare cot. Nothing. This was it. Or the alley, but that wouldn’t work. She suspected she wasn’t through yet with stomach problems.

She heard Austin’s frustration and saw it in the way he scrubbed his hands over his face.

“Okay. Fine.” She moved away from the door.

She didn’t know why he wanted her to stay, except for this strange feeling that he couldn’t let her go off on her own. Foolish man. She’d been doing it for years.

He sweetened the deal with two words. “Hot shower.”

Getting clean won out over all of her objections. Oh, to not have to use heavy-duty cleaning solvents in gas stations.

“Here.” He handed her the bag of stuff he’d bought.

She peeked inside then stared at him, tried to glare, but couldn’t pull it off because she wanted what she held in her hands too badly to turn it down. He’d bought her pieces of heaven. She laid them out in a row on the bed. A brand-new toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste. Dental floss. Body wash. She snapped up the lid and inhaled. Strawberries. Matching body lotion. Hand cream. Skin cleanser. Facial moisturizer! Shampoo and conditioner that smelled like coconut and pineapple.

Oh. Oh. It had been so long since she’d had any of this stuff.

“Okay,” she said, but her voice cracked. She cleared her throat and said, “Okay,” again, because she’d become too emotional too quickly, his thoughtfulness so sweet, so unexpected, it left her speechless. She shouldn’t take any of this, but as far as she could tell, it was freely given. In six years, the only times men had offered her anything had been with the understanding that she pay for it in ways she wouldn’t.

Austin hooked his thumbs into his back pockets and stared at the carpet. “I hope it’s all okay. It’s not the most expensive stuff out there.”

“It’s perfect.” And it was. In her former life, she’d bought only the best. Until doing without, she hadn’t realized how truly fortunate she’d been. This, though, was an unparalleled gift. Who was this guy? Why would he care so much for a stranger?

He’d set the bait securely. Of course she would stay. They would make the sleeping arrangement work somehow because there was no way she wasn’t having a long hot shower tonight. “I’ll sleep on the floor. You can have the bed.”

The weird hum Austin made sounded noncommittal.

“If it reassures you at all, I’m not any happier about this than you are.” Austin gestured toward the double bed. He rummaged in his bag and pulled out a fresh shirt. “You want to shower before dinner or after?”

“I guess you’d prefer before?”

“Yeah. We’ll be going to a nicer restaurant than a truck-stop diner. You’re pretty ripe.”

She gathered the things he’d bought her, but hesitated just outside the bathroom.

“I won’t come in and attack you. You’re safe with me.” She registered his hurt tone at being silently questioned; she’d already seen that he was a decent man.

Gracie entered the small bathroom and closed the door behind her. She locked it. Wrong. That only added insult to injury. In an act so foreign to her that it required a leap of faith she hadn’t taken since she’d run away six years ago, she unlocked the door. Right.

* * *

AUSTIN HEARD THE lock click and disappointment hit him. Then Gracie unlocked it and he smiled. Progress. He listened to the shower turn on and stay on for a long time; Gracie must be making full use of the hot water. Good. She needed it and it would give him a chance to call his mom. He picked up his cell, but didn’t dial right away, just stared at the wall, steeling himself.

Tension that hadn’t been there five minutes ago tightened his neck. He rolled his shoulders, but it didn’t ease.

He should have checked in earlier. Should. Too much of his relationship with his mom was clouded with too many shoulds.