Page 51 of Jenna's Threatened Sanctuary

Mrs. Collins chuckled. “You’re not the only one who could get used to this. A handsome man cookin’ in my kitchen, taking work off my shoulders, sounds all right to me.”

Jenna tapped her mug against Mrs. Collins and grinned. “Amen.”

The swinging door from the foyer opened and Elsie swept into the kitchen with garment bags draped over her arm. “We saying our prayers this morning?”

Calvin brought a plate heaped high with crispy bacon to the table then took the chair on the other side of Oliver. “Nah, most of my prayers were answered last night. What about you, Jenna?”

Grinning, Jenna picked up a piece of bacon and threw it at him.

Elsie laid the black bag on the island and fisted a hand on her hip. “I think I’m missing something.”

Jenna rolled her eyes. “I’ll fill you in later. Are you bringing in more donations?”

“I found some great interview outfits at the store. Thought they’d be a good fit here. I sewed on some new buttons and worked on some ripped hems. Now they’re just like new.”

Mrs. Collins clapped her hands together and held them under her chin. “Wonderful! Elsie, you’ve done such a fabulous job making the women who stay here feel special.”

Elsie shrugged. “I still have some work to do on the room. I want to make it feel like a little boutique. Give the women a fun experience when looking for clothes and other necessities. I have a bit of time this morning so thought I’d bring over some things. I have decorations and trinkets to jazz up some displays.”

Jenna grabbed another piece of the salty breakfast meat, eating it this time instead of tossing it across the table. “I can help you. It’ll be nice to take my mind off my troubles for a while.”

“That’s a good idea.” Calvin shifted in his chair and tapped his index finger against the table, a nervous tick that set her on edge.

Hooking a brow, she pinned him with her stare. “What aren’t you telling me?”

He scratched his already messy hair. “Milo Sholl’s wife responded to my message and is willing to meet me this morning.”

“Okay. We’ll do that first then I can help Elsie. She can always give me instructions if she can’t stick around.”

Calvin winced. “I think you should stay here with Oliver. You’ve been through hell and need to take it easy. I can ask my questions then get back quickly. No need for you to come.”

His response was like a bucket of icy water. She’d awakened this morning on a cloud of hope and an idea that they were on the same page. After days of being inseparable, he wanted to take the next steps alone.

Without her.

Maybe she’d been an idiot to think last night had meant the same thing to Calvin as it had to her. She should have insisted they actually talk about their future instead of just falling into bed with him. What had she been thinking?

She hadn’t been thinking. She’d acted on impulse and emotions, not logic and common sense.

Standing, she gave one nod and scooped Oliver from his seat. “Fine. Good luck. Elsie, let me get Oliver changed then I’ll meet you in the store.”

She ignored Calvin’s confused stare as she lifted her chin and walked out of the room.

The smellof fresh coffee and warm cinnamon rolls made Calvin’s mouth water. The late-morning rush had The Brewhouse packed with people looking for a little pick-me-up to get them through the rest of their day. The line wrapped around the edge of the room, stopping in front of floor-to-ceiling shelves that housed books for customers to read and products for sale.

Calvin picked up his phone and checked the message Debbie Sholl had sent through Facebook in the middle of the night. He had the time and the place right, but still no Debbie.

A tug of guilt yanked on his conscience. The day had started perfect, but Jenna had been stiff and cold as soon as he’d mentioned his meeting with Mrs. Sholl. He wanted to give Jenna a break, not drag her all over town for a quick chat. He thought she’d be thrilled to have time to relax with Oliver, but he’d been wrong. She hadn’t given him much of an opportunity to explain before he left, but as soon as he spoke with Debbie, he’d make everything right.

If Debbie actually showed.

Lifting his still-hot cup, he took a sip of the bitter latte. The constant chugging of the expresso machine filled the space, blocking out the noise of the lingering customers. Sighing, he rubbed the tip of his finger along the plastic lid. Waiting wasn’t his strong suit.

He’d taken a shot in the dark when he’d reached out to Debbie a couple nights ago via Facebook, and the waiting message from her this morning had been far from expected. If the woman was willing to speak about her husband, Calvin would listen to every single word.

The bell above the door rang, announcing a new customer. The dark hair pulled into a severe ponytail and chocolate brown eyes matched the pictures Calvin had found of Debbie online. This could be the conversation that led to a killer. He hadn’t found anything on the sketchy lawyer, but his intuition screamed the man was up to no good.

Pasting a smile on his face, he rose from the round table with a small wave aimed at Debbie.

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