With a Little Luck Read Online Free Page B

started to leave, she heard a man’s voice ask to speak to the owner. It sounded vaguely familar, but when she turned to see if it was anyone she knew, the man was hidden from her view by an aisle. Since the man had business with the owner, and since it was possible she didn’t even know him, Eve continued out of the store, dismissing the incident from her mind.
    She’d left the car in the store’s parking area. She walked toward it, but it was only when she got closer that she began to realize something was wrong. Her steps slowed and her eyes widened in disbelief at the sight of the shattered windshield and the three-inch-diameter hole in the glass.
    Stunned, Eve absently glanced in the side window and saw the baseball lying on the front seat. Reacting mechanically, she opened the door and reached to pick up the ball amid the splintered chips of glass on the car seat.
    “That’s my ball.” A young boy’s voice claimed ownership of the object in her hand.
    Still too stunned to be angry or upset, Eve turned to look at him. A baseball cap was perched atop a mass of dark brown hair, while a pair of unblinking innocent blue eyes stared back at her. Eve judged the boy to be eight, no older than nine. She had the feeling that she had seen him somewhere before, possibly at school
    “Did you do this?” She gestured toward the broken windshield, using the same hand that held the baseball.
    “Not exactly. You see my dad just bought me this new baseball glove.” He glanced at the oversized leather mitt on his left hand. “We were trying it out to see how it worked. I asked dad to throw me a hard one so I could tell whether there was enough padding to keep my hand from stinging. Only when he did, it was too high and the ball hit the tip of my glove and bounced off, then smashed your windshield. It must have hit it just right,” he declared with a rueful grimace. “So it was really my dad who threw the ball. I just didn’t catch it.”
    “A parking lot isn’t the place to play catch.” At the moment, that was the only thing Eve could think of to say. It was a helpless kind of protest, lacking the strength to change a deed that was already done.
    “We know that now,” the boy agreed.
    “Where’s your father?”
    “He went into the store to see if they knew who the car belonged to,” he explained. “He told me to stay here in case you came back while he was gone.”
    The comment jogged her memory of the man who had been in the store asking to speak to the owner. She started to turn when she heard the same voice ask, “Is this your car?”
    “It’s my father’s.” Eve completed the turn to face the boy’s father.
    Cold shock froze her limbs into immobility. It was the stranger she’d met outside the tavern last week. The rumpled darkness of his hair grew in thick waves, a few strands straying onto his forehead. The same magnetic blue eyes were looking at her with warm interest. The sunlight added a rough vitality to the handsomely masculine features.
    Eve waited, unconsciously holding her breath, for the recognition to show in his eyes as she mentally braced herself to watch that mouth with its ready smile form the words “brown mouse.” But it didn’t happen. He didn’t recognize her. Evidently the combination of liquor and the night’s shadows had made her image hazy in his mind. Eve just hoped it stayed that way, as feeling began to steal back into her limbs.
    He glanced at the baseball in her hand. “I hope Toby explained what happened.” His expression was pleasant, yet serious.
    “Yes, he did.” She was conscious of how loudly her heart was pounding. “At least he said you threw the ball and he missed it.”
    “I’m afraid that’s what happened,” he admitted with a faintly rueful lift of his mouth. “Naturally I’ll pay the cost of having the windshield replaced on your father’s car, Miss — ”
    “Rowland. Eve Rowland.” She introduced herself and was glad that between the sack of