The Novels of Nora Roberts, Volume 4 by Nora Roberts

Author:Nora Roberts [Roberts, Nora]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Retail, Romance
Amazon: B005OW6P2Q
Publisher: Jove
Published: 2011-11-29T05:00:00+00:00

Phoebe dragged into the house just after seven with a bag of groceries, a loaded briefcase and a serious case of frazzled nerves. The car she wasn’t at all sure she could replace had limped to a shuddering halt a block from the station house.

The cost of having it towed would eat a greedy chunk of the monthly budget. The cost of having it repaired made the possibility of bank robbery more palatable.

She dumped her briefcase just inside the door, then stood staring around the elegant and beautiful foyer. The house, for all its grandeur, cost her nothing. And though nothing was a relative term, she knew even if it were possible to move, she couldn’t afford it, on any terms. It was ridiculous to live in a damn mansion and not know how to manage to pay to repair an eight-year-old Ford Taurus.

Surrounded by antiques, by art, by silver and crystal, by beauty and grace—none of which she could sell, hock or trade. To live in what could be construed as luxury, and have a tension headache over a goddamn car.

Leaning back against the door, she shut her eyes long enough to remind herself to be grateful. There was a roof over her head, over her family’s head. There always would be.

As long as she followed the rules laid down by a dead woman.

She straightened, buried the anxiety deep enough so it wouldn’t show on her face. Then she carried the grocery bag through the house to the kitchen.

There they were. Her girls. Carly at the kitchen table, tongue caught in her teeth as she struggled over homework. Mama and Ava at the stove putting finishing touches on dinner. Phoebe knew the rule of thumb was that two women couldn’t share a kitchen, but these two managed just that.

And the room smelled of herbs and greens and females.

“I told y’all not to hold dinner for me.”

As Phoebe stepped in, all three heads turned. “Mama! I’m almost done with my spelling.”

“There’s my girl.” Setting the bag on the counter as she went, Phoebe walked over to give Carly a smacking kiss. “Bet you’re hungry.”

“We wanted to wait for you.”

“’Course we waited.” Essie moved close to rub a hand down Phoebe’s arm. “You all right, baby girl? You must be so tired, having the car go out like that.”

“I wanted to take out my gun and shoot it, but I’m over it now.”

“How’d you get home?”

“I took the CAT, which is what I’ll be doing until the car’s fixed.”

“You can use mine,” Ava told her, but Phoebe shook her head.

“I’d feel better knowing there’s a car available here at home. Don’t worry. What’s for dinner? I’m starving.”

“You go on and wash up.” Essie waved her away. “Then sit right down at the table. Everything’s ready, so you go on.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” She winked at Carly before slipping out to the powder room off the parlor.

More to be grateful for, she reminded herself. There were dozens of tasks and chores she didn’t have to heap on her plate because her mother was there, because Ava was there.

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