Time to Heal (Harlequin Heartwarming) by Karen Young Read Free Book Online

thought he would do something violent. He looked that fierce.
    “Are you sure?”
    Some of her rage abated. “I’ll never forgive you for this, Jake.”
    A bleak, almost tortured look was in his eyes. And then it was gone. He straightened. “So be it, Rachel.”
     
    M ICHAEL SAT ON THE GRASS with his back against a tree trunk well away from the broad expanse of glass that he guessed was the family room. He was lost in wonder at the scene before him. He’d seen places like this in movies, naturally, but never in person. A patio with flowers and furniture and a swing. A lawn that looked too green to be real.He’d actually bent down to see if it was artificial turf, the stuff they used on football fields. But, no. It was real as rain. Best of all was the pool, of course. A real, live pool. Big, too. One thing he excelled at was swimming. He’d never had the time to devote to practice so he could be on the swim team in Iowa, but the coach had once asked him. He couldn’t wait to try out that diving board. Man, it was something! Jeez, he’d landed in heaven.
    He glanced uneasily at the French doors leading into the house and wondered if he’d be invited in or if Jake would have to take him to the office to sleep somewhere until he could figure out what to do with him. He didn’t think he’d like to sleep in jail, even as a guest. He’d seen the jail. One of Jake’s deputies had given him a tour, making a big production out of it.
    He pulled his knapsack tight against his belly and fought off the images of the home he’d left. Mama Dee kept everything neat and clean, but the place was rented and the faucets leaked, there was never enough hot water for a long shower, the heater needed better venting and made the place smell like heating oil most of the winter. His eyes fell on twin air-conditioning units situated in a little wooden ell that matched the fencing. He bet Jake never had any trouble like that. His dad never had any duns from the utility company, either, he bet, where they threatened to shut offthe electricity. And Scotty and Miss Rachel—as he’d decided to call Jake’s wife—probably never shopped for groceries with food stamps, either. Resting his head against the rough bark of the tree, he squinted through the pink flowers of the tree to blue sky and sunshine. And dreamed….
     
    J AKE OPENED the French door and stepped soundlessly onto the patio. Michael was propped against the base of a squatty palm. Moving closer, he realized the boy was sleeping. Something twisted inside him as he gazed upon the youthful features. He hadn’t thought to ask Michael where he’d spent last night, but he knew it couldn’t have been a hotel. More likely on the beach, sheltered by some stranger’s pier. It had rained, Jake recalled suddenly. Not a soft spring shower, but a torrential downpour. Common enough in Florida, but hardly what Michael was used to in Iowa. Fortunately, it was May. The temperature hardly ever dipped below sixty-five at night. He drew in a deep breath, thankful for small mercies.
    He bent and gently squeezed the boy’s shoulder. “Wake up, son.”
    Michael blinked sleepily, staring with momentary confusion into his father’s eyes. Jake saw the instant he recalled where he was, who Jake was. He made a move to scramble to his feet, darting a quick look beyond Jake toward the patio doors.
    “Is it okay?” he asked anxiously.
    “Yeah, it’s okay. Come on inside. You’ve got to be hungry. It’s been a long time since we had those burgers.”
    “Yes, sir.” Michael slung the strap of his knapsack onto his shoulder and fell into step beside Jake.
    Setting his jaw, Jake opened the door and ushered the boy inside. The room was empty, he noted grimly. So this was the way Rachel meant to play it. For the boy’s sake, he’d hoped she would put aside her emotions, at least for tonight. None of this was Michael’s fault.
    “Here, let’s just drop that knapsack on the floor by the door,”