Healing the Boss’s Heart Read online

  “Everybody’s so friendly,” he said to her. “No wonder Mike loves it here.”

  She smiled up at him as she began to fill a plate for herself and one for her daughter. “Mike? I’ve never heard anyone else call him anything but Michael.”

  “I guess I still think of him as my rotten little cousin, Mikey,” Greg said, grinning. “He was into everything. It was my job to make him behave whenever we were together because I am five years older.”

  “It’s hard to imagine my pastor as a naughty little boy.” Maya was dishing up potato salad. “Are you sure I can’t fill a plate for you while I’m at it?”

  “No. Just take care of the princess and yourself. I’ll get something later, after you’re both settled.”

  Hearing herself referred to that way made Layla giggle, as he had intended. Children were resilient. Still, all this upheaval had to be hard on them, especially those who couldn’t go back home. He knew it was odd timing that he’d had the second apartment finished just when it was going to be most needed, but he was far from ready to give credit for that foresight to a higher power. He was simply the kind of man who liked efficiency and it had been logical to have the work done while a seasoned crew was available.

  Which reminded him. Finding a carpentry team that was both trustworthy and able to take on the job of fixing Maya’s house was going to be tough, considering the state of many buildings in town. Above all, they’d have to be very careful to avoid hiring one of the fly-by-night operations that were circling High Plains like vultures.

  Greg followed her to a table and placed the little girl in a folding chair beside her mother as he asked, “Have you heard anything more from the insurance company?”

  “Nothing definite. An adjuster did tell me that if my house had been leveled, the way the town hall was, I’d get a settlement check sooner. As it is, there will have to be a full inspection, a cost analysis, and maybe even an engineer’s report done before they can give me more than the money to cover replacement of my house’s contents. And since I only lost half of that…”

  “Terrific. How long did they say all that paperwork would take?”

  “From a couple of weeks to several months. Maybe longer.”

  Noting her apologetic expression and raised eyebrows, Greg was sorry he’d pressed her. “Hey. Don’t sweat the small stuff—and it’s all small stuff when you look at the bigger picture. You can stay in the apartment as long as you need to.”

  “I know. But I am going to pay you something for rent. I wouldn’t feel right living there if you don’t let me do that.”

  “Okay. How’s a dollar a week sound?”

  “Don’t be silly.”

  He couldn’t help noticing how cute she looked when she was making silly faces at him. Greg laughed. “Okay. You drive a hard bargain. Make it two dollars, but that’s my final offer.”

  When he noticed her eyes growing misty he stepped away and changed the subject. “Well, if you two are all set, I’ll go get myself something to eat before the good dishes are gone. Save me a seat?”

  “Of course,” Maya said as she laid a napkin on the chair beside her to mark it as taken. “Hurry back.”

  That was a given, he mused, a bit surprised at his eagerness to rejoin her. Nothing in his life had been the same since the tornado. He craved orderliness, sameness, a future that was planned and executed with skill. That was the way he had always lived and that was the way he intended to conduct himself in the future. Yet here he was, trapped in the midst of chaos—and he felt happier, more needed, than he had in his entire life.

  Maya could not drive anywhere until her car was repaired or replaced. High Plains was a small enough town that walking wherever she wanted to go was not difficult. She missed her car mostly because it had had air-conditioning and the July heat was sweltering, especially since the storm had raised the humidity. Even the nights retained the oppressive heat.

  It was twilight when she, Greg and Layla left the church together and strolled home through the park. Thankfully, a breeze was blowing off the river and that brought some relief.

  “Phew,” Maya said, sighing and facing into the wind as she raked her bangs off her damp forehead. “That’s better. I don’t remember a summer this hot since I was little.”

  “Probably because you’ve gotten used to air-conditioning,” he replied. “Like you said, we’re spoiled.”

  “True. I used to think we were as capable and tough as the folks who settled High Plains, but I’m changing my mind about that. They had to be extraordinary people.”

  “They were. And it’s not just the Kansas summers they had to cope with. Can you imagine having to raise your own food and prepare everything from scratch?”

  Maya rolled her eyes. “No. But if Grocery Town doesn’t reopen soon we may all find out what that was like.”

  Chuckling, Greg pointed to that closed market on the opposite side of Main. “I saw activity in there this afternoon so I stopped to talk to the guys doing the cleanup. They think they can have the place back in working order in a few more days. Their biggest problem is power for the coolers and freezers, but even without that they can still sell fresh food and canned goods.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  “Why? Don’t you like peanut butter sandwiches?”

  Layla was quick to answer, “I do!”

  When Maya looked into his eyes she saw a teasing twinkle that made her laugh. “I used to. They’re getting a little boring lately. I was so glad to have a hot meal at church tonight, I think I’d have eaten just about anything.”

  “We did. What was that brown stuff in the crockpot?”

  “I don’t know. Stuffing, I guess. It had to have come out of a box. Those church ladies are amazing. I think they could keep an army fed if they had to.”

  “They are feeding an army,” Greg answered. “I can’t believe how many outsiders have showed up already, and I know it’s just the beginning. If we were a functioning town we’d make a fortune from all the tourists and extra workers.”

  “Now you sound like the old Greg Garrison.”

  “Do I? Sorry. We can use all the help we can get. Which reminds me. I stopped and asked Michael if there was anything else he needed and he signed me up to go help open and clean the Waters cottages. That’s what I get for volunteering, huh?”

  She could tell that, in spite of his protestations and occasional reversion to his former frugality, Greg was eager to pitch in and lend a hand. It was as if he had a new lease on life, a new outlook that had made him seem happier than she’d ever seen him.

  “Have you found out if the Garrison homestead is all right?”

  “Yeah. It’s fine. Dad and his nurse took cover in the springhouse, just the way the old-timers used to, and the ranch hands hunkered down in Nora’s old storm cellar behind the house.”

  “I had forgotten all about that springhouse. Even if they don’t have electricity out there, your father can probably keep his perishables from spoiling if he puts them down there, can’t he?”

  “Not as well as modern refrigeration would but, yes, he can, as long as the spring keeps running through it.” He smiled wistfully. “I used to hide down there and dangle my bare feet in the icy water when I was a kid like Tommy. It was a good place to go to escape doing chores, too. It was always cool, even in weather like this.”

  “Makes me want to visit,” Maya said.

  “Not me. I’d rather roast than pay any extra visits out there.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way,” she said quietly, sympathetically. “I’d give almost anything if I could see my mom and dad again.”

  “If you believe everything Michael says, you will.”

  That brought a tender smile and she looked directly at Greg, meeting the obvious challenge. “I do and I will,” Maya said with clear assurance. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss them every single day.”

  They had entered the stripped office building and were heading for the stairs leading
to the apartments above when the overhead lights flickered.

  Greg stopped. Waited. Started to grin when the lights came on and burned steadily. “We have power!”

  “And air?”

  He laughed at her eagerness to be cooler. “Let’s let them get the whole grid up and running before we ask too much of it, okay? I’d rather have a refrigerator than air-conditioning.”

  She pulled a face. “Well…”

  “Come on. I want to go check how much of the building is functional and whether there was any damage to the circuits. We don’t want the power on if there’s a short somewhere in here.”

  Following him up the stairs with Layla, Maya asked, “Is there anything you just take at face value? Or do you always insist on double-checking every tiny detail?”

  “I check. Doesn’t everybody?”

  “No,” she said with a quiet laugh. “You are one of a kind.”

  “You say that as if it’s bad.”

  “Not really, I guess. I’m just not used to being around a person who picks at every little thing the way you do.”

  “You’ve never known anybody else who’s like that?”

  “Only one person,” she answered, sobering. “Layla’s father.”

  Greg turned at the top of the stairs to study her expression. In a way, she seemed to want to tell him about her past. Was she waiting for him to ask? Maybe. Or maybe it was the last thing she wanted to talk about. There was only one way to find out.

  “I don’t know who the guy was—and I’m not asking you to tell me his name,” Greg said, “but he had to be a fool to leave you and that sweet little girl.”

  “Thanks.” Blinking and averting her gaze, Maya appeared to be avoiding the subject.

  “Forget I mentioned it,” he said quickly. “It’s none of my business.”

  “I guess I don’t mind telling you if you really want to know,” Maya said, speaking softly and looking up at him. “I suppose I’d rather you hear the story from me than as distorted gossip.”

  He stood very still, waiting, giving her time to organize her thoughts and decide how much, if anything, to reveal.

  “I was engaged to be married but I was having my doubts even before I found out…” She glanced at her daughter as the child skipped happily off down the hall. “You know.”

  “I get the idea.”

  “When I told my fiancé what had happened he was furious. I actually thought he was going to hit me when I refused to consider terminating the pregnancy.”

  Greg’s jaw clenched. “That’s inexcusable.”

  “I probably would have come to my senses and broken our engagement, if he hadn’t suddenly left town and saved me the trouble. I have no idea where he went.”

  “Have you tried to find him?”

  “I did at first. Then it occurred to me that a life without him was a blessing. I don’t need his help to raise our daughter. As a matter of fact, it’s best that he’s out of the picture so Layla never has to deal with him. He had a terrible temper.”

  So, that was what had kept her single all this time, Greg mused. He’d wondered why an attractive, available woman like Maya Logan had never married. Now, he knew. She’d not only been disappointed by love, she’d been emotionally scarred by a man in whom she’d once placed her trust. A man who wasn’t worthy to shine her shoes.

  The forlorn look in Maya’s eyes spurred him to offer advice in the form of a question. “Have you talked with Michael about what happened?”

  “No. I wasn’t a member of his church until after Layla was born and I didn’t want to have to explain the situation all over again.” She hesitated. “It was hard enough telling you just now.”

  “Maybe you should reconsider opening up to Michael. I’m no theologian, but is it possible that God was sparing you by sending that guy away, protecting you and your little girl from a life of abuse?” Judging by the way her jaw dropped, she had never before considered that possibility.

  “No,” Maya said after a short pause. “I wasn’t stuck in the relationship. I could have walked away any time I’d wanted to.”

  “How about after Layla was born? What if her father had stayed right here in town so you couldn’t escape him? Suppose his temper had led to even worse violence? How would you have protected her?”

  “I—I don’t know.”

  “Then I’ve made my point,” Greg said. He took the lead and started down the hallway. “I’ll check your place first and make sure it’s safe, then we can all turn in. Since you don’t have a refrigerator yet you can keep using mine for as long as you need to.”

  “Maybe we can dig my fridge out tomorrow and test it to see if it’s okay after we photograph it for the insurance company. It didn’t look like it was in too bad a shape when we picked up the bedroom furniture. I don’t care if it’s dented, just as long as it works.”

  “We’ll do that in the evening, after I’m finished working on the cabins,” Greg told her. “By then, the streets should be in better shape for driving. I don’t know why I haven’t had a flat tire already.”

  “Maybe the Lord was watching out for us.”

  Chapter Ten

  Although Sunday was supposed to be a day of rest, you sure couldn’t tell it this particular Sunday, Maya thought.

  Of course, there was the scripture about pulling your sheep out of a ditch even if it happened to fall in and get stuck on the Sabbath, so she figured this situation wasn’t all that different. Thankfully, more outside help was arriving by the hour to relieve the weary locals.

  She had already posted Marie’s picture outside the church and had left flowers below it herself, although she’d had to beg some of her neighbors for what little was left of their usually lush gardens in order to come up with enough for a pretty bouquet.

  Maya was glad to see that the sanctuary was crammed to the aisles when she stepped inside for the worship service. That figured. Facing their own mortality and surviving, the way they all had, was a surefire method of increasing the size of a congregation. Too bad the positive effects would probably be short-lived.

  Maya had planned to invite Greg to accompany her to Sunday services but he’d apparently been up and gone by the time she’d knocked on his door a little after eight because he hadn’t answered.

  She had been thrilled to discover that there was hot water for a shower, probably thanks to his customary attention to detail—the same meticulousness she had once thought of as a character flaw.

  Picturing Greg’s reaction to that kind of criticism made her smile. As far as he was concerned, his methods were the only right way to do things and he wasn’t shy about saying so.

  It was that degree of confidence that had made him so successful in business. It was also the biggest stumbling block to letting herself care for him romantically. Taking orders at work was one thing, but in her personal life was totally different. And totally unacceptable. She’d managed to muddle through as a single parent thus far and she would continue to do so for as long as it took to guide Layla successfully into adulthood.

  The sight of Greg approaching via the maroon-carpeted center aisle of the sanctuary banished all negative thoughts. He looked wonderful. And terribly pleased to see her, too.

  She grinned and scooted over to make room for him. “Good morning.”

  “Morning. Where’s our princess?”

  “In the children’s service,” Maya said, choosing to ignore his casual reference to Layla belonging to both of them. “I was afraid she’d get too restless and bother other people, especially since it’s so crowded this morning.”

  She paused and fidgeted as she tried to ignore the warmth she sensed from his closeness. What was the matter with her? She no sooner got through assuring herself that she could not possibly care for this particular man than he walked in and once again took her breath away. The lingering trauma of the tornado had obviously unhinged her.

  Michael led them all in his customary opening prayer before the choir director announced th
e first hymn. Maya was chagrined to note that she and Greg were going to have to share a hymnal. As she opened and held it out, his warm, strong hand covered hers and she could barely read the words, let alone sing with her usual confidence and joy.

  Greg, on the other hand, had a beautifully rich baritone. The sound of his singing sent shivers along her spine and made the fine hairs on her arms prickle.

  Dear God, she prayed silently, help! What’s wrong with me?

  No divine answer was necessary. She knew exactly what was wrong. She was making the terrible mistake of falling for her boss, yet she had no idea how to stop what was happening or return to the uncomplicated, impersonal relationship they had shared just a short time ago.

  The only saving grace, as far as Maya was concerned, was that Greg was unaware of her burgeoning feelings for him. Heaven help her—literally—if he ever suspected.

  The second song went no better. By then he had not only covered her left hand, he had turned slightly and begun to stand even closer, as if they were the only two people present. At least that was how it felt to Maya. They were merely sharing a hymnal, yet they were doing it as a couple, not as individuals, and she was awed by the sense of perfect companionship that gave her.

  As the singing concluded, Greg closed the book and bent closer to whisper, “Are you okay?”

  “Fine. Why?”

  “No reason.”

  The pastor began to speak, drawing her back into the worship service. She had nearly regained her composure when Greg reached over and took her hand.

  She knew she should pull away. She would. In a minute or two. After all, Greg wasn’t used to coming to church and she didn’t want him to feel unwelcome.

  If you really believe that’s why you’re letting him hold your hand, Maya told herself, you’re even further gone than you thought you were.