apartment. I had to drop out, figured that was the end of my education. But since Table of Hope took me in Iâve been able to catch up. In a couple more months Iâll graduate, be qualified for work and get back on my feet again. I just need to put some money in the bank.â
âYour folks must be proud of you for finding a way to get back on track.â Heath returned the young manâs smile.
Shaggy hair fell across Nickâs brow when he shook his head. âThey donât even know where I am. I messed up too often to go home again.â
Heath could understand not wanting to feed at the family trough, but given the choice between shelter and pride heâd take the former. âSo, let me get this straight. You chose being homeless over being humble?â
Nick took a sip from a smiley face mug as though he needed a moment to consider his response. âYou ever been on the street?â he finally asked.
âNot in the way you mean,â Heath admitted.
âItâs more humbling than you can imagine. You never get past the shame of asking a stranger for a handout. Youâve seen those WILL WORK FOR FOOD signs, right?â
Heath nodded.
âWell, holding that sign is less embarrassing than hearing yourself say the words over and over again. I know some people see us as bums who just wonât get a job, and for a handful that may be true. But my experience at shelters tells me otherwise. If it wasnât for Miss Livvyâs Christian heart, everybody here tonight might be sleeping in a doorway, and it wouldnât be because theyâre too lazy or proud to work.
âTrust me, if all I had to do was eat some crow to get my mama to invite me back to her table again, I wouldnât hesitate. But my parents never read about the prodigal son. Iâm grateful that Miss Livvy believes in helping folks get another chance, no matter what theyâve done.â
Warmth stirred beneath Heathâs breastbone. Was there any possibility the woman he was investigating was truly as beautiful inside as she was on the outside?
Did that kind of person even exist in the world today?
Â
Olivia stood before her bathroom sink, tipped her face toward the ceiling and made a gurgling sound through a mouthful of salty water. Too many encounters with the dayâs blustery wind had left her with a raw throat and throbbing ears. Thank goodness for home remedies. She couldnât afford medical insurance, so anything less critical than a severed limb had to be handled out of her first aid kit.
Two aspirin and a cup of hot tea should do the trick.
She rinsed her mouth, finger-combed short hair that stuck up every which way and dragged a favorite old Baylor sweatshirt over her head for added warmth. She padded into her small kitchen and pried open the tea bag tin.
Empty.
âOh, thatâs right,â she muttered. âI used the last one this morning.â Crawling back under the blankets would be the simple thing to do, but when had she ever taken the easy road? She scooped up her wad of keys and flipped on the stairwell light. At the bottom she poked her head out, hoping to get Nickâs attention and ask for a favor. He was nowhere in sight.
âIt figures,â Olivia griped as she trudged toward the big room. Sheâd make quick work of pocketing some tea bags from the drink station and get back upstairs before she was seen.
She found the room silent and empty, lit only by a plug-in night-light near the coffee urn.
âYes!â Olivia cheered quietly, then hurried across the floor and reached for the tea canister. The lid flipped open easily. She grasped a handful of the small bags, raised them to her nose and closed her eyes to appreciate the fragrance.
âExcuse me,â a male voice rumbled in her ear.
Olivia gasped! Her eyelids flew wide in the dark room.
The terse baritone and the fist gripping her wrist sent a shock wave shivering through her