All the Little Raindrops(60)

She was still staring at him, and he squinted up to the blue, blue sky and then looked back at her standing in front of a tropical-looking plant studded with tiny white flowers. “Man, the places we’ve been together.” He wanted to cringe. Why had he said that? But she huffed out a small agreeable breath, his words seeming to bring her back from the momentary shock-stupor she’d been in. “You look great,” he said.

“Thank you. So do you.” She picked up the handle of the cart. “Walk with me?” She glanced back over her shoulder again. “I have a few more deliveries to make, and then we can talk.”

“Okay. Great.” He followed along as she turned down a path, pulling the wagon behind her.

“What do you do here?” he asked. He’d looked at the website, but staff hadn’t been listed there, and so he had no idea what job she performed.

She glanced back at him, a smile gracing her lips but quickly fading. “Technically, I’m the owner’s assistant,” she said. “But I do a little bit of everything. Two of our employees went back to school last week, and so we’re a bit short staffed.” She reached into the wagon and took out a stack of white fluffy towels before turning toward a cottage they’d come to stand in front of. Noelle knocked on the door, and a woman answered, smiling as Noelle handed her the towels.

“Thanks,” the woman called as Noelle turned with a wave.

“The owner’s assistant,” he repeated. “The owner being Chantilly Calhoun.”

“The one and only,” she said with a smile. “And you?” she asked as they continued along the path, turning and following another. Here and there were wooden signs that pointed toward each cottage, spelling out the names. LETTERED OLIVE, BANDED TULIP. And below each name was the picture of a seashell. “What are you doing now, Evan?”

Feeling like a moron, following you around at your job when what I really want to do is take you in my arms, hold you for hours, and then ask you questions that actually mean something. “Well, ah, you’ll be surprised to know that I’m a private investigator.”

She stopped and turned toward him. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. I dropped out of Stanford and became a PI.”

She tilted her head, a wisp of hair falling across her cheek. His hand itched to push it back. “I bet your dad loved that.” She gave him the first genuine smile since he’d shown up here unannounced.

He smiled back. “He’s still steaming mad,” he admitted. He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck again. “But it’s my life. I’m happy with my choices.”

Their eyes locked for a few beats before she looked away, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth and glancing off through the trees. What did she keep looking for? Someone to rescue her? Or was she worried her boss would be unhappy with her chatting with him as she worked? “Well, that’s good to hear,” she said.

“Thanks.”

He glanced at her hand as she leaned over the cart. She wasn’t wearing a ring. His lungs expanded. He didn’t want to admit how relieved he felt, but he did. He wouldn’t think about why. He wouldn’t.

She pulled a blue beach bag full of something out of the cart and carried it to the door of another cottage just through two tall trees. He heard Noelle and a woman exchange a few words, and then Noelle returned a minute later. “That’s it,” she said. “I have a few more things to do back at the house, and then I can meet you for a drink in an hour or so?” That worried look over her shoulder again confused him. “There’s a place in town that has really good sweet-tea vodka. It’s sort of a local favorite.” She looked suddenly flustered. “I don’t even know if you drink. Well, anyway, they have everything. Are you staying here, or are you flying home later today?”

“To tell you the truth, I hadn’t really planned anything beyond today, Noelle.”

She huffed out a chuckle, putting her hand to her forehead, her features scrunching. “God, Evan. This is just . . .”

“I know,” he said. “I know. I’m . . . totally spinning here too. And I expected to see you.”

It was surreal. They were two people who’d been to hell together, now standing in the dappled sunlight of an ancient tree under a clear summer sky. He couldn’t remember the journey from there to here, and so each experience backed up to the other in his mind, making him feel slightly drugged and just a little delirious. A fever dream. A mixed-up impossibility.

“It’s not just that,” she murmured. “It’s—”

“Mommy! Mommy!” came the childish voice he’d heard earlier, foliage rustling as the small patter of feet came toward them. He turned his head just as a little girl came down the path, running toward Noelle.

Her mother.

Oh.

Noelle was a mother.

“Can I go on a bike ride with Ewell to get ice cream?”

Evan blinked as Noelle turned toward the child, bending slightly so she could smooth her hair back. “Sure, honey. But change your shoes,” she said, nodding down to her flip-flop-clad feet. “And wear your helmet. And tell Ewell only one scoop of ice cream this time, not three.”

Evan’s heart thumped in his chest.

Was Noelle married but didn’t wear a ring? Or had she broken up with this child’s father?