After The Dawn

After the Dawn

By Sandra McGregor

Copyright 2011 Sandra McGregor

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Chapter 1

The house is on fire!

Shelby Sanders' heart thudded, then rocketed into the Stratosphere as she whirled from the half-made bed and bounded down the steps toward the sound of her son's voice.

With her heart pounding, her tennis shoes barely touched each step. Halfway down, her mind registered the smoke. Was the house really on fire? Her heart rate tripled.

Smoke bellowed out from around the oven as Shelby Sanders slammed open the kitchen door and entered the smoke-filled room. With her eyes burning and her lungs filling with the acidic smoke, she started to cough. She grabbed two oven mitts, opened the oven door and slid the roaster pan out.

Tommy, open the back door. Hurry!

He darted across the stone floor and flung open the door.

Suddenly the smoke alarm went off just as Shelby was stepping through the door onto the porch. Flinching, she almost dropped the smoldering roasting pan, but with her finger strangling the pan's handles, she managed to juggle it outside before she dropped it safely onto the back porch. Could anything else go wrong today? She stood staring down at her latest catastrophe.

I'll get it!

Soon the blaring alarm was silenced. She stood with her eyes closed, shaking her head. It had to say something about her cooking when her five-year-old son knew how to deactivate the smoke alarm system.

Hawthorn House was a quaint Bed and Breakfast on Minnow Lake and guests had filled all the rooms this past weekend. All eight bedrooms had been rented out and she had cooked, served, cleaned and answered questions from sun up until sun down for three days.

Today should have been better. Monday's were usually quieter after breakfast when the guests left, and she used the day to clean up and regroup. Laundry had to be done, depleted food supplies were replaced and the house had to have a general dusting and vacuuming. The part she enjoyed the least was the ten bathrooms in the house. Fortunately, they were cleaned so often that a good swishing of pine scented ammonia cleaner was all that was necessary.

However, this Monday when she had needed to take an aspirin, put her feet up and relax to get rid of a raging headache, the gods must have gathered to decide how to ruin her day. It had quickly become a nightmare...one catastrophe after another.

After stripping sheets off seven of the beds, the washer had decided to go on the fritz right in the middle of the first load. With another family coming tomorrow night, there was little choice but to call the Corporation to let them know about the emergency and then call the repairman before going into town to the laundry mat. That little side trip had put her almost two hours behind schedule.

Arriving back home, she had told Tommy to stay outside and play. She knew he couldn't get into any trouble out there by himself. This would give her a chance to run upstairs and get the sheets on the beds without interruption. No sooner had she gotten upstairs and started in the first room than she had glanced out the window to see Tommy playing in a small mud puddle created by a broken sprinkler. Water was spouting up like Old Faithful and Tommy was having a good ole time between getting totally soaked and stirring the mud with a stick. He was actually sitting in the driveway that was getting muddier by the second.

Knocking on the glass, she had gotten his attention and shook her finger at him. He immediately stood up. The look on his face indicated the realization that was in trouble. At the speed of light, he had barreled for the front door. Racing around the end of the bed and bumping into the rocking chair in her haste to get out into the hallway, she had gotten to the head of the stairs just before he started up.

Stop, she commanded, her hand acting like a traffic signal. Don't take another step. She managed to keep her tone a solid demand without screaming, but the gate holding in her temper was about to be breached. Don't move another inch. Don't you see that you're tracking mud on the floor?

Turning his head to look around him, he then turned back to his mother with his head slightly lowered. Sorry.

The mumbled apology put a hairline crack in her heart. Her voice softened a fraction. Go back outside and take off those shoes and socks. In fact, after you do that, take off the shorts since you sat in the mud, and come up here for a shower.

He stood staring at her.

Right now. Move!

Yes, ma'am.

Heading down the stairs, she followed him outside. On the side of the house, she found where to turn off the water. She'd have to call someone to repair the pipe before she could turn the outside sprinklers back on.

Corporate is going to start recognizing my voice at this rate, she told the sprinkler control box. She hoped it wouldn't cost too much to do the repair. She was trying to keep her repair expenses down so the new owner would see a larger profit. That way he would think she was doing a good job for him and keep her on.

Returning to the bedroom to finish putting the sheets on the bed, she sent up a silent prayer of thanks that she had been able to stop Tommy before he tracked mud all the way to his bedroom at the far end of the hall. It was bad enough that she was going to have to mop the foyer and hose off the front porch.

Finishing the last bed, she returned downstairs to clean up the mud before it dried and became more difficult to remove.

Now with everything else that had happened during the day and with the roast burnt and the kitchen smelling like smoke and charred meat, she felt close to tears. She seldom cried and when she did, it usually came when she was so tired that she didn't think she could face any more without some time to rest and recoup.

Shelby was twenty-nine, but knew she looked thirty-five on days like this when she had gotten very little sleep and hadn't even had time to put on any makeup. Even her hair was drooping.

Yet again she considered a trip to the salon. Her hair would definitely look more professional if cut to a more professional length, but she found it difficult to rid herself of what she considered one of her better features. Besides, on days like this when she was tired or running late, all she had to do was pull her mass of blond hair into a ponytail. If she needed to appear more mature, she just wrapped that ponytail around into a bun. Viola! Instant sophistication.

Thank goodness, her complexion was what people traditionally called peaches and cream. A little touch of mascara could carry her through the day if she got up late or ran out of time to fix up before new guests arrived.

She was also thankful for the extra couple inches of height that had come in handy a couple of times when dealing with an arrogant male, but her most striking feature was her sky-blue eyes. People always noticed them and commented. The biggest problem was that her eyes told others exactly what she was thinking and feeling. Even with practice over the years, it was difficult for her to hide her emotions. Her own son had learned to read her like a book and knew when he was in big trouble and when she was about to laugh at one of his antics.

She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment against the sting of the acidic smoke still irritating them. Her biggest problem right now was lack of sleep. She was just bone-weary tired. It was getting harder and harder to get out of bed each morning. It wasn't fair. She was working hard, but getting less sleep than when she was in college cramming for exams.

Shelby straightened her back and leaned gently to each side to stretch out the kinks. She really needed this job. She wanted to be a good provider for Tommy and a job offer that included room and board as well as medical insurance coverage was too good to risk losing.

Her gaze dropped to the still-smoking pan. If she could just wave a wand and have it disappear, it'd be a lot easier to regroup and start over. She kicked it with her toe.

What had she done wrong? Had she forgotten to put any water in the bottom of the pan before she went upstairs to make the beds and vacuum?

I didn't do anything.

She turned her head to look down at her son. I know, Sweetie. Her precious son. She definitely understood the 'mother bear syndrome.' She knew she would have raced into a burning room to save Tommy without thinking twice. Her own safety was unimportant.

Leaving the smoldering roasting pan sitting on the porch, she kicked the back door shut to keep the smoke from blowing back into the kitchen.

Now I have to think of something else to make for dinner. Wiping a lone tear from her cheek, she squared her shoulders and told herself to straighten up and take care of business. Her Dad would have gotten a kick out of knowing that one of his old sayings had stuck with her through all these years.

Mentally she ran over the contents of the refrigerator and the pantry. It was too late to thaw anything from the freezer. Tonight would be a very simple dinner and tomorrow she would plan something extra special to make up for it.

Thank goodness there was only one guest tonight. Maybe she could get away with just having deli sandwiches and fresh fruit.

She stood surveying the damage when the phone rang. She grabbed it on its second ring. Hello?

This is Better Living control center. Do you have a fire?

Yes and no. I burned dinner. The security password is 'reservation'.

Thank you. I'll cancel the alarm.

Thank you very much for calling. All she needed to push her over the edge would be for the fire department to come screaming up to the front.

It stinks in here, Mom. Wrinkling up his face, Tommy pinched his nose and breathed through his mouth like his grandfather had taught him to do when he smelled something that he didn't like.

She hung up the phone and turned to her son. Tell you what. Why don't you go up to your room and play while I clean up this mess and try to get the smell out of the house? Okay?

Nodding, he spun on his heels and took off like a bullet shot from a gun.

Opening the pantry door, she surveyed the contents. Grabbing up a package of shell macaroni, she reached into a bottom cabinet for a pan to boil some water. At least she could make macaroni salad quickly to go along with the sandwiches.

Half an hour later she had cleaned and aired the oven and the kitchen and dinner was ready. All that was missing was her guest. He had left right after breakfast and luckily, she hadn't seen him since. It was bad enough to do something so stupid. She certainly wouldn't have appreciated an audience.

Tommy was up in his room playing Nintendo, but before long she knew he'd be down wanting to eat. His internal clock seemed to always know when it was time to eat.

Sitting at the counter on a high stool, Shelby planned the menus for the coming week and then made a grocery list. Hearing the front door open, she stood up to get the pitcher of iced tea from the refrigerator. Carrying it through to the dining room that had been set for three, she greeted Tony Sordillo with a smile.

Good evening. How was your day?

Hi. It was fine. I explored the lake and even checked out the town's history at the library.

Did you read the history of this house?

As a matter of fact, yes I did. Very interesting. A ghost, huh?

Chuckling, she filled the three glasses. That's the legend. Are you about ready to eat?

Yes, just let me wash my hands and I'll be ready. Have you ever seen her?

The ghost? When he nodded, she continued. Actually, no. One time I heard some strange sounds, like someone walking in the attic, but it was probably the wind. I haven't heard it since. None of the guests have heard anything that they've ever told me about, so I'm inclined to believe that someone made up the story and it just got passed down as truth.

You could be right. Do you want me to call your son while I'm up there?

Would you please? Thank you very much.

Getting the bowl of salad and the platter of cold cuts from the refrigerator, she got everything put out on the table, ready for supper.

It was easy to tell when Tommy had been activated. Like a whirlwind, he started at one spot and ran a course through the house until he ended at his destination. At these times all she could do was hope there wasn't anything in his way that could be broke, spilled, or knocked over. Like a puppy that hadn't grown into his big paws, Tommy hadn't either and often as not, he left a messy trail behind him.

Sliding onto his chair, he held up his hands. I washed both hands and with soap, too. See? Holding them up for inspection, Shelby made a big deal of looking over his hands.

Looks like you did a very good job. That warrants an extra cookie with your ice cream later.

Yipee! Did you hear that, Tony?

Mr. Sordillo.

Sorry. Even though he looked sheepish for forgetting to call an adult by his last name, it didn't dim his enthusiasm for the guest's answer.

Yes, and I agree with your mother. You deserve the extra cookie.

Beaming at the praise from the two adults, he didn't even comment on having sandwiches for supper.

Smiling a silent thanks to her guest for his support, she passed him the platter.

Not that I'm complaining about the meal, but do I smell smoke? Was there a problem here today?

Blushing to her blond roots, Shelby rolled her eyes and gently laughed.

I was hoping you wouldn't notice. I burnt the roast that was supposed to be dinner tonight.

And my Mom makes great roast. She always does mashed tators and gravy and everything. I eat a whole bunch.

Tommy's arms were stretched out as far as they would go; almost knocking over his milk glass as he demonstrated how much roast and potatoes he could eat.

I'm sure your mother is a great cook. You know, if your Mom's roast is that good, I sure hope she makes it for supper before I leave.

Sure she will.

Excuse me. Do I get a vote in this deal, gentlemen?

Sure, Tony smiled at her; you get to pick the night. Tommy giggled so hard that macaroni salad starting falling out of his mouth onto his plate. Handing him a napkin, she couldn't help but laugh.

Well, thank you! she said watching him take a huge bite of his sandwich.

No problem. He mumbled his answer around the ham and cheese.

You shouldn't talk with your mouth full, Tommy warned. Mom won't let you have any cookies.

Oh, thanks for the warning. Does she buy the cookies or does the bake them? His stage whisper wasn't very silent, but Tommy was ready to continue the conspiracy.

She bakes them, he whispered back.

Does she ever make peanut butter and does she make the chocolate chip ones that are in the room each evening?

Yeah. That's the kind she makes most cause they're my favorites.

Mine too. Do you think if we offer to clear the table and put the dishes in the dishwasher after we finish eating that she'll let us each have an extra cookie?

Turning hopeful eyes to his Mom, Tommy asked. Can we Mom? Please?

Shelby couldn't resist her son...or this amazing man. Yes, you can, but you first have to finish your supper.

Yeah! In a stage whisper behind his small hand, he leaned toward Tony. Thanks. Her cookies are the best. You'll see.

You're welcome, Tony whispered back.

Shelby would have had to be blind to not notice the hero worship shining from her son's eyes whenever he looked at Tony. Tommy's Dad had never bothered to give him any time or attention.

Consequently, Tommy glued himself to whatever male responded to him.

Finishing her half-sandwich and sitting back to sip her tea, Shelby admitted that she certainly wouldn't mind gluing herself to this hunk sitting across from her. Well over six feet, with his broad shoulders and wide muscled chest, it made it difficult for her not to constantly stare at him.

If she were a betting woman, she bet that his tan came from being in the sun, not from a tanning bed, and his toned muscles came from work, not from the gym. His sun-streaked light brown hair had a good, and probably very expensive, cut that had it laying in perfect layers without any thought or effort on his part. Even when he had once ran his big fingers though it in frustration, it had fallen back into place perfectly.

Right now his piercing blue eyes were intently following her every move. Nervously, she sat her glass down...right on top of a fork. The tea glass tipped and with a sinking feeling in her stomach as she frantically tried to grab it, she watched the amber liquid fan out and land right in Tony's lap.

Chapter 2

When the cold liquid landed in Tony's lap, his shocked look would have been funny if she hadn't been so horrified. Startling him, he jumped up and slid the chair back so fast that it fell over with a resounding bang.

Shelby was immediately on her feet running into the kitchen to grab some towels from the drawer. Returning, she tossed one of the towels on the table to start soaking up the tea and hopefully stop any more of it from running off onto the floor while she started toward Tony with a couple towels in her hands. Grabbing the towels from her, he started dabbing at his lap and then dropped the towels to the floor to soak up what had already run off the table.

Glancing up, he stared into her face that still carried its horrified expression. With one hand covering her open mouth, she was speechless. Good shot, lady. You've got perfect aim.

Noticing that Tommy was utterly silent, it dawned on him that the boy looked as if he were waiting for someone to start yelling at his Mom. Smiling, he turned to Tommy.

Is her aim always this good? If so, I don't want to ever play basketball against her.

Cautiously starting to relax, Tommy slowly nodded his head and gave Tony a tiny smile that barely whispered at the corners of his mouth.

Good thing I was about finished. I think I'll just go up and change. I'll be back down in a few minutes. Turning to head toward the stairs, he stopped and turned toward her. Does this mean I can have an extra cookie?

Smiling self-consciously, she nodded.

Good. Then it was worth it.

When he was out of sight, Shelby picked up the towels from the floor, then closed her eyes and just stood with the damp, tea-stained towels dangling from her hand.

Mommy, is he mad at us? Will he leave? Her heart broke at the fears his father had instilled in him at such an early age. She prayed she would be able to help him work past these fears by giving him a supportive, loving environment to live in and to grow up in.

No, Honey. He's not angry with us, and no, I don't think he'll leave early. It was an accident.

Daddy used to yell when I'd have accidents.