Page 92 of Night Falls on Predicament Avenue
Norah swallowed a lump in her throat. “Yeah. I’ve a lot to make up for with LeRoy. He’s lived for thirteen years unable togrieve ’cause we all blamed him. He still wouldn’t be my choice for Naomi”—she eyed the music box—“but I can’t help but feel he came from a good family. Whoever that man Anderson was, and however he was tied to Isabelle Addington.”
“Dad said he can’t find a thing in the papers with any more clues as to what happened,” Harper said. “So maybe they did all get destroyed in natural disasters like the papers concluded. Or else Dad can only assume they never found out.”
Norah nodded. “It’s sad.”
“But!” Harper’s eyes lit up. “Dad did find an article about Floyd Opperman! Seems Betty and Ron Daily were wrong. He wasn’t sent to an institution. After his mother died, he was too much for his brother to care for, but apparently he ended up getting a permanent position as a worker in the carriage house on the manor’s property.”
“The James manor?” Norah drew back, surprised. “That place is the epicenter of historical homes and tours in Shepherd.”
“I know. It was a small blip in an article, stating that Floyd Opperman had been celebrating his tenth year on staff at the manor and had become a beloved member of the family.”
Norah smiled. “Good. Something about a man like that being institutionalized bothered me to no end.”
Harper grinned back, a perky glint in her eyes. “See, Norah? Sometimes God brings us a happy ending—they’re just small and so we need to look harder for them.”
Sebastian held sentry at his station where the coffeemaker brewed. He looked up sheepishly. “I know. It’s past five, but I’m needin’ some, so don’t be judgin’ me.”
“No judgment.” Norah held up her hands. She was tired. She wasn’t sure where she stood with Sebastian. He seemed ... normal. At least he was back to his casual self instead of brooding and acting as if she’d ruined everything. But he hadn’tsaid anything about it to her either, and Norah was afraid he never would. It seemed to be his way. Just move on. But that didn’t always work. Look at Harper and the years she’d ached for more of his attention—that being heart-to-heart talks and the presence of an engaged father in her life.
“Want some?” He lifted the full coffeepot.
Norah shook her head. She watched him pour coffee into a mug and then replace the pot on its hot pad. He turned toward her, his dark eyes piercing into hers as he held the mug like a shield in front of him.
“So I’m a fool, Norah Richman.”
She blinked in surprise.
He sipped the coffee, then nudged his glasses up his nose. He had a nice nose. He had a nice face. She’d noticed, but she’d avoided dwelling on it. Dwelling on the fact that anytime Sebastian Blaine walked into the room, her insides threatened to melt like a lit wax candle.
“I’ve been speakin’ in my head all the things I want to say to you. I don’t know as I’ve made any progress.”
“Like what?” Norah maneuvered a chair out from the table so she could sit down.
But Sebastian was quicker. He set down his mug of coffee and was beside her before she could sit. His presence was magnetic enough that she stayed standing, only she swayed a bit, and Sebastian reached out to steady her.
His eyes were pools of liquid, warm and inviting like coffee, and ... dangerous in a way.
“You’ve been important to Harper. An’ I want to thank you for bein’ there when I wasn’t.”
“I—”
“Don’t say it was nothin’ ’cause it wasn’t. She was afraid to come to me, an’ I can’t say as I blame her. I’ve been in an’ out of her life all her life. She needs a home. An’ I was scared to let that be me.”
Norah mustered a small smile. Part of her was jealous of Harper. Oh, heck, all of her was jealous of Harper. She’d like her home to include Sebastian too. Somehow. Someway. She wasn’t ready for her houseguest and his daughter to check out of 322 Predicament Avenue, yet she wasn’t foolish enough to think they’d progressed to the stage in their relationship where she’d feel comfortable asking them to stay.
“I’d like to stay—for a while anyway. I’d like to have some time with Harper, an’...” Sebastian’s words were such a close echo to Norah’s thoughts, she stared at him, horrified she’d actually spoken them aloud. He hurried to continue. “I’ll pay the room an’ board for Harper an’ I. But I think it’d be good for us to stay here. Fresh start an’ all.” He paused, then seemed to realize Norah was drowning in his coffee-colored eyes, and his grin turned slightly cocky and lopsided. “An’ I think it’d be good for you too.”
“Me?” Norah tilted her head.
“Aye. Think about it. Have you ever realized you’ve no one here who can brew a good pot of coffee?”
“Oh.” She felt dumb.
Sebastian tilted her chin up with his thumb. “An’ have you imagined what your days would be like without me around?”
She had. Norah looked away, embarrassed.
Sebastian moved with her, commanding her gaze. He winked. “An’ just think about it, lass. If I’m here, I can chase away all your ghosts.”
