Page 29 of Finding Comfort

“Oh, the short recess is over. I have to go back in. See you soon!”

Celia groaned aloud, but went to grab her socks. She didn’t want Trenton to go hungry, especially not if it was because he had been distracted with helping her that morning. Even if he had taken it too far.

The bus to the downtown courthouse was on a different route than the one she used to get to work. She’d have to give herself plenty of time to get to the tavern afterward. When she perched on the bus seat, her knees protested a bit, so she stretched out her legs, watching the neighborhood pass. It was almost an hour since she’d called when she climbed the white marble steps leading into the courthouse. She wasn’t sure where exactly he’d be, she realized as she put her bag, phone, and everything else in her pockets through the metal detectors.

The guard at the end looked uncomfortable as he took her tray of things to the side to speak to another. The older guard gestured to her, and she came over, her shoulders hunching as he lifted the mace with the new house key attached. “Ma’am, you’re not allowed to bring weapons inside the courthouse.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I always keep it with me since I ride the bus.” She didn’t want to part with it, and bit her lip.

The older man’s face softened. “Ah, I see.” He glanced at the younger guard and then around the nearly deserted entrance. Leaning toward her, he placed the mace in her hands. “Here, keep it. Just don’t get me in trouble by spraying anyone in here.”

“Oh, only if they start it,” Celia said.

He chuckled, gesturing that she could retrieve her other things.

Relieved, Celia gathered everything again, sticking the mace keychain in her pocket. She actually had used it on someone once and had regretted it. Her own eyes had stung. But the would-be robber had gotten it worse, and she’d kept the twenty bucks she’d had in her pocket that day.

The plastic bag with the salads crinkled as she rounded the corner to peer down the first hall. At the far end, she recognized the tall back of the man she was looking for, and some of her tension left her. He was standing in front of what looked like a bench, and she thought that would be perfect. They could eat quickly, and she would be on her way again.

He shifted, sitting on the bench and facing the woman she hadn’t seen since he’d been standing in front of her. The woman was crying, and Trenton patted her shoulder, only the soothing murmur of his words reaching Celia. Suddenly, the woman threw herself against Trenton’s chest, burrowing her head against it. Trenton held his hands up awkwardly, then gently resumed patting.

Celia froze in the hallway, not sure what to do. The woman obviously needed him, and Celia had no desire to interrupt. A little comfort from Trenton went a long way, she knew. And that’s all he was offering the woman. His posture made his discomfort obvious, though he wasn’t the type to turn away from someone in need—or she hadn’t gotten the impression he was, at least. An uncomfortable rock lodged in her throat. Trenton was kind to everyone. She was sure of that.

A slight throat clearing behind her had her turning to face a young man in a suit. The mop of red hair on his head looked as if he had tried to tame it, but it had still curled around, and freckles stood out on his face as he smiled at her. “You must be Mrs. Caldwell. I’m Jacob, Mr. Caldwell’s legal assistant. I’m so happy to meet—”

“Here,” Celia interrupted, shoving the bag with the salads in it into his stomach.

The assistant’s hands automatically gripped it and she let go.

“If you wait for a little while, I’m sure Mr. Caldwell would like to eat with you.”

“Sorry, I can’t stay,” she heard herself say.

Jacob blinked at her. “That’s too bad, Mrs.—”

“And I’m not his wife. His wife died.” The words sounded harsher than she intended them, but Celia doubted there was a good way to say it.

The assistant’s eyes widened. “Oh no, I didn’t know.”

“No harm done,” she said. She glanced back at the far bench. Trenton had moved the woman away from him and was gripping her shoulders as he leaned down to talk to her. “What kind of lawyer is he?”

“A divorce lawyer.” Jacob moved to her side to follow her gaze. “This client was in a horrible situation, but the judge ruled in her favor. Things should go easier for her now.” The assistant’s eyes shone. “Mr. Caldwell is amazing.”

Celia watched Trenton continue to comfort the woman. She didn’t really understand, but she also didn’t doubt that he’d helped her. “I have to go.” She turned away from the scene.

“Thanks again for bringing this.” Jacob held up the bag.

She nodded, her feet already carrying her away. “Oh, and there’s an extra in there for you,” she called back without looking. The legal assistant might as well eat hers. She didn’t feel hungry anymore.

Chapter 14

Trentonfinisheddressing,listeningto the quiet of the house. It was Saturday, so technically he could have slept in, but his morning run and shower were more of a ritual than anything else.

Celia had taken to sleeping in more the rest of the week, which made sense with her working until closing each night. He’d been surprised when Jacob had given him the salad she had brought the other day. He had wanted to scold her for doing too much after she’d taken such a rough tumble, but she’d seemed tired when he’d picked her up that night. So he’d thanked her instead, and she had simply nodded, and that had been that.

He had something else to thank her for as well. It seemed his legal assistant had mistaken her for his wife, but she had managed to tell the man something Trenton had not found the words for in six months. Jacob had said he was sorry to hear about his wife when they’d had lunch that day. He’d expected his normal reaction to the acknowledgement, but it had been chased by the question of who Celia was. He hadn’t been prepared, and each explanation his mind flipped through seemed wrong. Trenton had finally settled on telling Jacob that she was a friend of the family who was staying with him for a while.

It was hard to believe it had still been less than a week. Though they didn’t see each other as much anymore with their differing schedules, it wasn’t as if her presence hadn’t settled in. He’d been surprised, and slightly embarrassed, when he’d found his clothes washed and folded neatly on his bed on Friday. No one but him had washed his clothes since Emily.

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