Page 41 of In Hiding

The admission came out of the blue but pleased him all the same. It was a detail he hadn’t had to extract and that spoke volumes.

“His father is my ex-husband, so technically, I’m William’s stepmother, but five years ago I legally adopted him. The thought that he could be taken from me because I wasn’t his legal guardian troubled me.”

Ex-husband? Erik didn’t mention a divorce and it wasn’t in the file Lucy had given him. “And Will was okay with that?”

This time when she smiled, the emotion reached her eyes. “Who do you think suggested it?”

Clever. “He would’ve been eleven?”

She nodded and ate another spoonful of vegetable soup. “His birth mother died when he was two.”

That information was new to him. “Do you know how?”

“Accident, I think.”

“Does he remember her?”

“No.” Sarah set her half-empty bowl down on the coffee table. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the bathroom.”

Sarah took the blanket off her legs and pushed up to her feet. Unsure how she would manage, he straightened and moved to her side. With a curious look, she motioned toward the crutches.

“I should get used to them sooner or later. Would you hand them to me, please?”

Jake did as she requested and watched her position them under her arms. Her first few uncoordinated steps worried him but once she was clear of the furniture, she moved with freedom and confidence. When she was out of the room, he let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair.

How the hell was he supposed to get her to trust him?

Having her keep him at arm’s length seemed inevitable and he had to concede that if she didn’t open up to him, he didn’t know how to help her. Telling her he knew everything wouldn’t earn her trust. If anything, he expected it would get him thrown out on his rear. It was obvious she felt the need to protect her privacy. No doubt having someone snoop would feel invasive.

The best course of action was to be patient, something he’d never been good at. Jake wanted to laugh. For once, he found himself in a situation where he couldn’t take what he wanted or force an outcome.

Humility.

He really needed some.

The sound of a footfall caught his attention and he found her in the doorway, staring at him curiously. Exertion had put some color in her cheeks though her heaving chest concerned him.

“Are you okay?”

She huffed. “These things are torture devices.” Setting the crutches ahead of her, she swung between them to land on her right foot. “Their inventor should be shot.”

He waited for her to shuffle back to her chair before taking the crutches and leaning them against the wall.

“I could have helped you.”

“I know.” She dropped into the chair and leaned back, looking exhausted. “But I can’t expect you to be here every time I need to move around the house. You’ll never get any work done.” Her eyes twinkled at him.

“You’ll get better at it.”

“I’ll heal before then, I promise you.”

He motioned toward her bowl. “More soup?”

Sarah laid the blanket back over her legs and shook her head. “It was lovely, but I couldn’t. Thank you anyway.”

Unsure how she could keep going on a few spoonfuls of vegetables, he hid his growing worry and began stacking their crockery. “I should get back to work and let you rest.”

Closing her eyes, she sighed. Leaving the bowls, he lifted the blanket up to her shoulders and covered her. At the fireplace, he stacked more logs on the small flames, worried the room was too cold, then cleared away their lunch dishes. He downed a glass of water before heading out the side door onto the veranda.

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