LITMIR.BIZ

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to help him, but he declined. I guess that’s the end of our responsibility.”

      Nathaniel laughed, the childish giggle that always wound itself around Marissa’s heart. As she started the car and drove away from Jack Coffey’s place, she wondered if Bill ever thought of her, ever wondered about his son. She wondered if he realized how much he’d given up when he’d chosen to walk away from them both.

      As she drove to the motel that she and Nathaniel were calling home for the duration of their vacation, she filed thoughts of Bill away.

      She hadn’t realized at the time they were dating just how immature and selfish he was. She hadn’t realized that until she’d gotten pregnant and he’d run for the hills. She didn’t need a scared boy in her life, and Nathaniel certainly didn’t need a scared boy for a father.

      Better to have no father figure in Nathaniel’s life than a bad one. She’d grown up with a father who’d been immature and unwilling to accept responsibility.

      He’d drifted in and out of her life on his whims, bearing expensive gifts she didn’t need, taking her to restaurants she didn’t care about, giving her tangible things when all she wanted and needed was his love.

      He’d been filed away with Bill in her “not worth thinking about” file. And now she had a third man to add. Jack Coffey.

      But Jack simply refused to stay filed away. As she and Nathaniel ate dinner in a restaurant near her motel room, she wondered what Jack was eating for supper. With his splinted and bandaged hand, even making a sandwich could prove difficult.

      Not my problem, she reminded herself. She’d offered to help and he’d declined. From her brief encounter with him, she had a feeling Jack Coffey was a man who would have difficulty asking for help under any circumstances.

      Much later, tucked into bed with Nathaniel sleeping next to her in the crib the motel had provided, the scent of his baby sweetness surrounding her, she once again worried about Jack.

      She couldn’t help feeling responsible for him and his injuries. What if he tried to maneuver down those steep stairs on his own? As isolated as his house was, he could fall and hurt himself badly and it might be days before anyone would find him.

      When she finally fell asleep, her dreams were nightmares of Jack Coffey chasing her down the beach, only in her dreams it was her leg that was encased in heavy plaster. Nathaniel sat on the sand, clapping his hands and laughing with glee each time Jack tried to grab her.

      She awoke with a start just after dawn, grateful to leave the nightmares behind. But the night of restless dreams had made her realize she couldn’t just go on her merry vacation knowing a man was suffering because of her and her son’s actions. Her conscience simply wouldn’t allow it.

      By eight, she and Nathaniel were dressed and on their way back to Jack’s house. In a sack in the backseat she had all the makings of a good, old-fashioned, home-cooked breakfast. She didn’t know a man alive who would say no to biscuits and gravy, thick slabs of ham and fresh eggs.

      When she pulled up outside Jack’s house, she was surprised to see an old, beat-up station wagon. She sat for a moment, wondering if she should go up or not. After all, the station wagon indicated he wasn’t alone.

      As she was trying to make up her mind what to do, the front door flew open and an older, heavyset, gray-haired woman exited. She went halfway down the stairs, then turned back as Jack appeared in the doorway.

      “Don’t come back, Maria. You’re fired!” Jack bellowed, causing several seagulls who’d been walking the beach to squawk and take flight.

      “Okay.” Maria nodded and smiled. “I’m fired.” She continued down the stairs as Jack slammed the door. As Maria hurried to the station wagon, she offered Marissa a wide grin. “Be careful. He’s very cranky this morning.”

      “Thanks,” Marissa replied, surprised by the woman’s friendliness. She got Nathaniel from his car seat, grabbed the sack of groceries and the diaper bag, then stared up the staircase. “Very cranky,” she repeated beneath her breath. “He wasn’t exactly Mr. Sunshine yesterday. How much worse can it be?”

      She climbed the stairs and set the sack of groceries down, then knocked on the door.

      “Go away.” Jack’s voice came from somewhere inside the house. “I said you were fired.”

      Marissa drew a deep breath, then cracked open the door. “Mr. Coffey? It’s me, Marissa.” The door jerked out of her hand and she found herself face-to-face with the man himself.

      “What in the hell are you doing here?”

      It was apparent that he’d had a rough night. His hair stood askew and the stubble that darkened his cheeks and chin was thicker. His eyes were midnight-blue, with dark, bruiselike circles beneath. His appearance provoked a renewed burst of heartfelt guilt to seep through Marissa.

      “I’ve come to make you some breakfast,” she said. He stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. She grabbed the sack. “I—I brought everything I need.”

      Nathaniel wiggled in her arms and pointed to Jack, who scowled irritably. “What did you bring?” he asked grudgingly.

      “Ham and eggs, biscuits and milk to make gravy.”

      He hesitated a moment, then stumbled away from the door. “Knock yourself out.”

      Marissa entered the house and caught her breath. The first thing that stole her breath away was the view. The living room had one wall of glass, offering a splendid panorama of the beach and the ocean.

      The second thing that made her catch her breath was the utter chaos that reigned in the room. The surface of the coffee table was covered with old newspapers, empty soda cans and a variety of fast-food wrappers.

      The computer workstation in one corner of the room appeared to be an extension of the coffee table. More fast-food wrappers, empty cans and bottles of juice and stacks of paperwork covered the entire area. The carpeting needed vacuuming and what little wood she saw needed polishing.

      “Don’t mind the mess,” he said as he sank onto the sofa where a bed pillow and a blanket awaited him. “I just fired my housekeeper.”

      “I think I met her on the way in,” Marissa replied.

      “She was supposed to work for me today, but stopped by to tell me there was an important bingo game and her sister the psychic told her today was her lucky day.”

      “I wouldn’t consider getting fired particularly lucky,” Marissa exclaimed. “But she didn’t look too upset about losing her job.”

      Jack sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “Hell no, she wasn’t upset. She intentionally aggravates me so I’ll fire her because she knows I’ll call her to come back and she’ll decline and I’ll offer her a raise and she’ll come back.”

      He might be cranky, but at least he was more talkative this morning than he’d been yesterday, Marissa thought.

      “I see you brought the death squad with you,” he said. “Don’t you have a husband to watch him while you pursue your mission of mercy?”

      “No, I don’t.” Marissa wasn’t about to get into a conversation about her personal life. She decided to take immediate control of the situation. “Why don’t you just lie down and rest and I’ll have a good breakfast for you in a little while.”

      He nodded, eased himself into a prone position, then pointed to the doorway behind her. “The kitchen is that way.”

      Marissa stifled a groan of dismay as she entered the kitchen. Although it was a large, homey room, at the moment it was a little too homey. The sink was filled with dirty dishes and the counters were cluttered with the leftovers of several meals.

      The man was a pig, Marissa thought. This mess wasn’t the result of a man with a broken leg and fingers trying to feed himself. This mess hadn’t made itself in the past twenty-four

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