The Secrets Between Them. Nikki Benjamin
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any of the names on it. Still, the offer of references that she could call added to her inclination to trust in him.
Yet she couldn’t help continuing to wonder why he’d chosen to leave the city—not to mention give up the possibility of securing another lucrative white-collar job in computer technology—to work as a low-paid gardener and handyman on a farm in the mountains of North Carolina.
“So what brings you here, of all places?”
She met his gaze again, making no effort to hide her puzzlement.
“I’ve been wanting a change of pace and a change of place the past couple of years. Being downsized has given me the opportunity to make those changes. I’d really like to find out if I’m any happier working at a different kind of job in a different kind of place than I was putting in twelve-and fourteen-hour days in an office in Charlotte,” he replied without hesitation.
“But you won’t be making nearly as much money working for me,” Hannah pointed out.
“I don’t need a lot of money right now. I do, however, need a place to live in the area, at least temporarily, and your ad did say room and board was included.”
“I can offer you that,” Hannah agreed. “You’d have the room on the second floor all to yourself. It’s furnished, of course, and there’s a bathroom with a shower stall up there, too. It was my room when I was growing up, then my husband used it as his study after Will was born so we could put Will in the spare bedroom downstairs. I can also provide three meals a day as part of the package.”
“Having sampled your chocolate chip cookies, I’d say that sounds very good to me.”
He shot a wry grin her way as he took a third cookie from the can on the table.
“I am a pretty good cook,” Hannah admitted, allowing the slightest hint of pride to edge her words as she smiled, too.
“I’d like to sign on with you, then, Hannah…if you’ll have me.”
“I appreciate your interest, but in all fairness I really should take you for a walk around the property first so you’ll know exactly what you have ahead of you. Do you have any rain gear with you?”
“A jacket in the Jeep. I’ll get it and meet you on the porch, okay?”
“Sounds good to me,” Hannah replied as she pushed away from the table and stood.
Evan stood, as well, picked up his mug and carried it to the sink, then started toward the door. Hannah put the lid on the cookie tin, then followed after him to collect her own rain jacket from the row of pegs on the wall.
“Can me and Nellie go with you, too?” Will asked as he scrambled to his feet along with the dog, his blocks forgotten.
“Nellie and I,” Hannah corrected gently. “And yes, you can go with us. But first get a towel from the bathroom cabinet to dry Nellie when we’re ready to come inside again.”
“Okay.”
As Will scampered off, Nellie galloping after him, Hannah turned back to Evan. She saw him watching her son, his gaze intent. The vaguely bemused look in his eyes gave her pause all over again.
Was he as honest and as decent as she wanted to believe he was? Or was he hiding something unsavory about himself and his reason for being there behind a careful facade meant to give her a false sense of security?
“Is something wrong?” she asked him, her voice wavering with sudden uncertainly.
Immediately, Evan Graham focused his attention on her once again, his expression shifting smoothly, softening in the merest blink of an eye.
“Not at all, Mrs. James. I was just thinking how lucky you are to have such a happy, healthy son.”
His friendly, open manner made it easy to shake off her doubts about him. Too easy, perhaps, but the condition of her greenhouses and gardens had turned her into a beggar who couldn’t afford to be a chooser. She wanted—needed—him to check out okay for the sake of her business. It didn’t have anything to do with the way his presence made her feel.
“Yes, I’m very lucky to have such a happy, healthy son,” she said.
Evan Graham nodded once, seeming to confirm something in his own mind. Then he opened the door and stepped out onto the porch.
“Guess I’d better get my jacket so you can give me the grand tour.”
“You’ll get wet otherwise.”
“I wouldn’t want that to happen,” he said, closing the door behind him.
Hannah took her jacket from the peg, but made no immediate move to put it on. Instead she lurked by the window, watching as Evan Graham ambled down the walkway to his Jeep. He was an interesting and an attractive man in a lot of ways—probably too attractive to her under the circumstances, she acknowledged with a grim twist of her lips.
He was still a stranger, after all. Anyone could adopt a polite, conscientious, ingratiating manner for the short time necessary to get a foot in the door of a trusting woman. How he behaved toward her, and toward Will, on a day-to-day basis would reveal much more about the true nature of his character.
In the meantime, however, there was no harm in being glad that he seemed to want to work with her. After all the months of hurt and fear and loneliness she’d endured, she realized she was as much in need of companionship as any other living, breathing human being would have been. And she couldn’t see any harm in cautiously enjoying Evan Graham’s company.
“We’re ready,” Will announced, joining her by the window.
He’d put on his rain jacket and had a towel clutched in his arms. Beside him, Nellie wriggled excitedly.
“Let’s go then,” Hannah said as she moved away from the window.
Slipping into her jacket, as well, she savored for a long moment the sense of an adventure about to begin—small, and perhaps silly, as it might be.
Chapter Two
Evan took his rain jacket from the backseat of the Jeep and put in on slowly, giving himself a little time to organize his thoughts. Not an easy task, he admitted, considering his current state of confusion.
He had rarely been as disconcerted by anyone’s appearance or behavior as he’d been by that of Hannah James. She hadn’t been anything like the kind of woman Randall James had described to him less than a week ago. With her long, dark hair pulled back in a single, simple, neatly twined braid and not an ounce of makeup on her face, there had been no outer artifice about her at all. And although the jeans, red sweater and low-heeled, ankle-high boots she wore hadn’t been new, they were most certainly neat and clean.
Nor had Hannah acted in any way like the evil, avaricious and unfeeling person her former father-in-law had accused her of being. For someone who had supposedly allowed her husband to die in order to collect money from his life insurance policy, she seemed to live a very simple, very quiet life.
Either Hannah James had magically transformed herself into a warm, kind, honest, loving mother, her home into a serene and orderly haven and her son into a normal, happy, healthy five-year-old, or his client had lied to him point-blank.
Years of working as a police officer and then as a private investigator had honed Evan’s ability to read people. He was successful enough to choose his clients, and he did so based largely on his belief that they were being honest with him.
He rarely missed the signs that someone was lying to him. In fact, he couldn’t recall one time that he’d taken on a new client only to discover that he’d been grossly and very likely intentionally misled.
Granted, there were always two sides to any story. People seldom viewed the same situation in exactly the same way, and when the people involved were also adversaries, there was an even greater chance of disparity between them. Evan had learned that accusations