Angel Smits - Seeking Shelter

This man knew Jace as well? What did that mean? What the hell was going on?

“Mr. Haase? Why are you calling me?” A part of her didn’t want to hear this, but she knew there was no avoiding it.

“I...I’m sorry, Miss Grey. Your father passed away a couple of months ago. I sent you and your mother a letter—”

“My mother’s been gone for nearly ten years.”

The silence was heavy with the man’s shock. “I’m...I’m so sorry. I liked Madeline.”

What kind of friend hadn’t known she had died? Amy didn’t know what to say to him, what to ask next.

“Have you been able to read through the documents I sent you?”

“Uh, not yet.” She really needed to find those papers and read them.

The man cleared his throat. “I can give you the basics. Your father named Mr. Holmes as his sole heir. I was checking to see if you plan to contest the will.”

“I... Do you think I should?” Jace hadn’t mentioned a thing about it. Was he hiding the information, or did he assume she’d read the papers and knew?

The attorney paused for another long moment, as if considering what to say. “I can’t advise you on that, as I represent your father’s estate. I was just trying to close up the files.”

She didn’t know anything about her father, not even what he’d done for a living. She cringed, knowing she sounded shallow, but she had to ask. “What exactly did he leave him?”

“There wasn’t much, I’m afraid. Your father was homeless for over ten years. The few things that were with him when he died barely fit into his old shopping cart.”

The image of her father finding her in the shopping mall collided with this image, shattering them both.

“Then why would I contest the will?” Wouldn’t that cost money, at least in attorney’s fees? Yeah, like she had extra cash just lying around.

“He was your father, and it is your right.”

It sounded more like the attorney was trying to drum up business for himself rather than help her. “I’ll let you know what I decide.”

Curiosity, and something else she couldn’t quite identify, made her start walking. She didn’t remember hanging up the phone. She didn’t lock the front door of the store. She didn’t really care right now.

But she most certainly cared about Jace’s explanation.

This had better be good.

* * *

THE AFTERNOON SUN blistered the desert, but here in Rick’s garage, a huge fan helped move the ungodly heat. Jace rummaged around in the toolbox, trying to focus on the task at hand. Easier said than done.

He kept forcing himself not to look down the street at the store, wondering what Amy was thinking about this morning’s conversation.

The loud snap of the screen door still rang in his ears. What had he expected, telling her about Mac like that? The idea that Amy wouldn’t want to know about her father had never crossed his mind, though it probably should have. He thought of his own dad. He still missed him. If someone came to tell him about his father, he’d take everything they had to offer.

He could tell her about the money. And what? Buy her interest in Mac? No, that wasn’t why he’d come here. If that were the case, he could have sent her the safety deposit box key with a note, or maybe simply a check, and been done with it.

No, he’d come here to finish Mac’s dream. Jace wanted her to know the Mac he’d known.

He’d been tempted to follow her through the open door, but he’d hesitated long enough for a bit of common sense and self-preservation to take hold. He’d go back later. Give her time to digest the knowledge that her father hadn’t forgotten her.

Jace looked down the street at the store again. When was later?

Rick appeared in the doorway just then, thankfully distracting him.

“Hey. You hear anything from Gilcrest?” Jace asked.

“Yeah. Clyde’s coming over here to see Gavin. He’s the sheriff over there, and Lonnie, who owns the parts store, stuck ’em in the squad car. Clyde’ll drop ’em off in the next half hour or so.”

Only in a small town. Some things never changed. “Great. Thanks.” He headed to the bike and knelt down beside it. Time to remove the busted parts to make room for the new.

“You need any help?” Rick stepped closer.

“Not yet, but I can probably use another pair of hands later.”

“Sure, just holler.”

Rick moved away, but Jace could tell he wanted to ask questions. Since it was his garage, Jace couldn’t exactly ask him to leave, so he kept working and waited. He crouched beside the bike, trying to get to the spark plugs, which wasn’t an easy task. Finally, Rick went back into the office.

“Whatcha doin’?”

The little girl’s voice behind him startled Jace. He smacked a knuckle and bit back a curse before glancing over his shoulder. Katie stood in the doorway.

“Fixing the motor.” He didn’t think she was really looking for details. He didn’t know too many six-year-old girls who were interested in fixing an engine, but you never knew.

“Did you break it?”

“Uh, not intentionally.” He fought back a smile. Life with this kid must be a real treat. “I should have fixed it sooner, though.”

“Is Mr. Rick helping you?”

“Yeah. Hey, hand me that wrench over there.”

“This one?”

“No, the next one over.”

The girl scooted over the grease-coated floor on her knees to the pile of wrenches. Jace cringed, hoping her mother wouldn’t kill him for the state of her pink jeans. Maybe he’d better not ask her to get anything else.

He took the wrench and wedged it into the narrow space.

“You like riding a motorcycle?”

“Yeah. It’s fun.”

“I don’t think Mama would let me ride it.”

Jace grinned at the engine. “My mom didn’t like me riding them, either.”

“Really? How come she lets you now?”

Jace sucked in a breath. What was that saying about “out of the mouths of babes”? “I’m grown-up now. I don’t have to do what my mom says.” That sounded rather defiant, he realized. Probably not the best influence.

“I’ll be glad when I’m grown-up.” There was a glum note to Katie’s voice and Jace finally looked away from the engine. She sat only a few feet from him, her legs crossed and her elbows on her knees. She rested her chin in her palms, letting her golden curls dangle forward along her face.

Not good. Not good at all. He was not getting involved in this. But after a while, he realized she wasn’t leaving.

Setting aside the wrench, he grabbed the rag on the floor by the front wheel and started wiping the grease off his hands. “Something on your mind, kiddo?”

He saw her glance up without lifting her head. “Nope.”

“Okay.” He looked at her for a long time before pushing himself to his feet, then went over to the tool chest and rummaged through it. Rick was a pretty neat mechanic, so finding things wasn’t hard. Jace would make sure to put them back the best he could.

“Does your dad like you riding a motorcycle?”

He hadn’t heard her move, but there she stood, right beside him. Startled again, he slammed his thumb in the drawer. “You’re hazardous, kid. What?”

“Does your daddy like your motorcycle?” Katie looked up at him, at once expectant and exasperated that he hadn’t heard her.

“My dad died a long time ago.” His father had been gone so long the answer was practically rote. He wondered why he hadn’t told her that his mother was gone, too.

“Oh, no.” Katie looked sad and stepped closer to him. “I guess that makes you like me.”

“How so?”

“You don’t have a daddy, either.”

Jace wasn’t sure where this conversation was leading, and he really wasn’t sure he should be following it. He hunkered down beside the little girl, meeting her eye to eye. “Look, kiddo. Your mom really cares about you.” He wondered where the next land mine was.