Page 17 of Honeycombs & Homecomings

In the entire situation, she’d only felt unsafe for that brief moment before he’d returned. It was a violation, but she’d felt safe because of him.

She slowly unlocked her car and opened the door. She flung her small overnight bag into the passenger seat, then turned to him.

His expression was blank, his hands in the front pockets of his pants, his gaze glued to hers. “Are you okay?”

She shook her head. She was so far from okay, but then again, at this moment she knew she could feel worse—that she would’ve felt worse if he hadn’t been here tonight. How she felt around him now was how she’d always felt around him as a kid, perhaps mixed with other feelings, like amusement, irritation, befuddlement, or trepidation, and on and on, but she’d always felt safe.

And then he’d run off.

She swallowed and glanced down at the keys in her hands. “Thank you for staying with me until Roger and Ethan came. I wouldn’t have wanted to be alone.”

His hands fisted in his pockets.

She thought of the moment upstairs when he’d put his arm around her shoulder and wondered if he’d hug her now. Then she wondered if she even wanted that. He’d been back for a few hours, and with her a little less than that, and in a few days, he was leaving again. Plus, it’d been a really long time. He shouldn’t have any effect on her after all these years, and she didn’t want to give him any more opportunity to heave her life into anymore turmoil.

“Jo-Jo,” he said, almost like a question, and a tingle went up her spine. “Why are you here? What happened with your house?”

She breathed out. He was never one for letting things go. “My dad died six months ago, and a month ago we discovered he’d taken a second mortgage out on the house. He made a bad investment, and well, here we are.”

He dropped his head back, staring at the stars, and nodded. “I didn’t know about your dad. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

She gave him a little smile. Anyone else would’ve lamented the debt, the situation that they currently found themselves in, but Cash knew exactly what to say. The house was a place. The debt sucked, but they survived. She missed her dad. “Thank you.”

“He was a good man.”

“Yeah, he was.” Silence filled the space between them, not awkward, but comfortable. She didn’t want it to end. Found she didn’t want this day that had started out so horribly, to end. Someone had broken into her business, stolen from her, and made a huge mess, and she didn’t want this day to end. That was what Cash did. That was what he always did. He made dark days bright, and lonely nights a little less painful.

A lump formed in her throat. She cleared it. “I’ve gotta go.” She had to get out of here before she started crying. If she was with him another second, she was sure to burst into tears, and that made her feel weak. She couldn’t do this right now. She had to hold it together for just a little while longer. Until the festival was over. Then she could lock herself in her bathroom and sob to her heart’s content. No one need ever know.

Before he could respond, she plopped down into her car seat and pulled the door shut behind her. He stood stock still as she pulled past the empty building at the end of the row, and around the corner.

She wouldn’t see him again.

She sucked in a ragged breath and squared her shoulders. “Good.” Then she glanced up. “You know, Heavenly Father, when I asked for strength and support during my morning prayers, Cash Evans wasn’t what I meant.”

She felt His response like a warm chuckle and one-armed embrace, and knew exactly what it meant. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

She nodded.Well played.

Chapter 6

The moment Jo had pulled into herself, Cash had seen it. He could always tell when she was about to withdraw. And he’d always been able to stop her. He’d wanted to stop her last night. But in a few hours, she’d undone him, and he had to pull back. So, he’d kept his hands in his pockets, even when he’d been desperate to hold her.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d wanted to hold someone that badly.

Before he’d gotten engaged to Shelly, he’d enjoyed hugging her, but he’d never felt like that. What he’d felt tonight had be so consuming. Not that any of those feelings mattered. His life wasn’t here, and he had no right to come in and make a mess before heading home again.

But he’d made a promise to himself last night that he would help her out. And he would. When he’d gotten home, he’d told his parents what’d happened and his mother had enacted her phone tree. Now, it was seven am, and he was standing in front of theSticky and Sweetwith his mom, ten other women, Deputy Roger and his wife and two kids, and Deputy E. Morrison and his wife and four kids, and another cop, if Cash had to guess by his posture, that he hadn’t met yet.

The newbie held hands with one person he did know, Maribelle. She’d been in the same graduating class as him. He’d thought she was adorable back then, and that hadn’t changed. Her mop of dark brown curls was pulled back into a ponytail, and she smiled and waved at him from across the group.

E. Morrison opened the door with a key Jo had given him last night, and the crowd made their way inside.

The women all stopped to gasp and stare for just a moment—one lady with a blonde bob, he thought he should remember her name, even groaned—and then they were off. Sweeping, and scrubbing, and handing out assignments to the men and children. Cash and the cop he hadn’t met yet were assigned paint duty.

The guy extended his hand. “Name’s Danny.”

Cash took it. “Cash.”

---