Free Sinful by Joan Johnston Page B

hardwood floors.”
    She surveyed his simple western décor, which was done in warm browns and reds. A large cowhide covered the area in front of the floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace, where a wood fire popped and crackled. “It feels like a home.”
    “If only Brooke and Sawyer agreed with you, I’d be a happy man.”
    “You’ll be surprised how quickly they settle in.”
    “Tonight was rough. I was hoping you might be able to join us tomorrow for whatever it is we end up doing.”
    “I can’t.”
    No explanation, just a refusal. Connor wasn’t used to taking no for an answer. There had to be a way to convince her to come back tomorrow. He set a cup of hot tea in front of her, then sat down on the stool next to Eve with his own cup of tea. He tried the simplest method first.
    “I need your help.”
    A pained expression crossed her face.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “I have my own problems, Connor. I have a lot to do this week.”
    “Like what?”
    She chewed on her lower lip for a moment, then blew on her tea to cool it and took a sip.
    He sipped his tea as well, waiting for her to share whatever was troubling her.
    “It doesn’t really matter,” she said at last. “I just can’t come.”
    “Would it help if I told you I’m desperate?”
    “Brooke and Sawyer are wonderful kids. They’ll adjust.”
    He sighed heavily. “How long is that going to take?”
    “Honestly, they’re going to be fine. You’ll all be fine.”
    “So you say. Won’t you join us tomorrow?”
    “I can’t!”
    She sounded agitated, but he wasn’t ready to give up. “If something had happened to me, you would have helped Molly.”
    To his dismay, she burst into tears.
    He stood and reached out to wrap his arms around her to comfort her, but she lurched from the stool and took several steps away from him. He stuck his hands in the back pockets of his jeans to make it clear he wasn’t going to touch her.
    Connor regretted bringing Molly into the conversation. His dead wife was a constant specter that disturbed his waking days and haunted his dreaming nights, but he hadn’t realized how upset it would make Eve to bring up her name. His heart still ached whenever he thought of his wife. “I miss her, too.”
    Eve swiped at the tears on her cheeks with the backs of her hands. “I’m so sorry, Connor.”
    “For what?” He’d been too far out of it to hear most of what was said to him around the time ofMolly’s funeral, but as far as he knew, Eve hadn’t been involved in Molly’s accident.
    “I wasn’t in the mood to sit through a horror movie that night, so I offered to babysit instead. If only I’d gone with her, we would have been in my truck, which had better traction than her car.”
    “It wasn’t your fault.” It wasn’t anybody’s fault, really. It was simply a freak accident. Molly had hit some black ice on the way home and slammed into a tree. She must have turned her head the wrong way, or maybe it was her short stature. In any event, the air bag broke her neck.
    If anyone was to blame, it was him. He should have been home with his wife. He would have been happy to see a horror movie with Molly. She loved being scared when he was there to cling to both during the movie and afterward.
    Connor missed his wife. He missed their life together, which had been cut so disastrously short. He regretted the choice he’d made to leave his family for a third time, but there was no way to take it back.
    “I just wish…” Eve left the sentence hanging, and he wondered what she’d been about to say.
    “Wishing can’t change the past,” he said. “Molly is gone and I’m alone with my kids, who have no memory of the times we spent laughing and playing together when they were babies. They don’t understand why their mother had to go to heaven or what role their father is supposed to play in their lives.”
    “I can’t help you, Connor,” she said firmly. “I have things I have to do.”
    He gave her a smile