“You’re a teacher, right?” Something with the school district.

And the floodgates opened. “No, I’m not a teacher. I had to drop out of college when my parents died. I’m an aide for special needs kids at the elementary school. Was an aide. Which wasn’t much in the way of pay, but at least I worked full-time hours. Now I’m back to playground police and yelling at parents talking on their cell phones in the drop-off line.” She ran both hands through her hair and accidentally dropped her glasses.

Colin reached down to grab them before she could beat him to it.

“Thank you,” she said when he handed them over.

“I’m sorry.” And he was. The stress she was carrying for her siblings couldn’t be easy. “I’m guessing that means a cut in pay.”

“Yeah. It does. I didn’t make a lot, but it helped. My mother didn’t work, but my father was still pulling in money when they died. There’s social security and a pension. Separate college funds for all of us, thank God . . . but there’s cars and insurance and gas and cell phones.” She covered her face with her hands. “Never mind. None of this has anything to do with you. I’m sorry. I’m just having a bad day.”

“Sounds like more than one.”

“Whatever.” The sunglasses went back on her face. “So, you want to get rid of these poles.”

“Yes.”

“Fine.”

“Fine?” he asked with a lift to his voice.

There was a slight grin on her face. “No, really. I don’t care. It’s all messed up anyway and looks like crap.”

“I might be able to swing replacing them when we’re all finished.”

She shook her head. “No. No reason for both of us to have problems with our bosses. I saw you took care of the barns today. Thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome.” Colin really wanted to pull her into his arms and hug away her pain.

She shuffled her feet and looked around with a sigh.

“My mom is retired now, but she worked as a bookkeeper for years. She’s all about budgets and planning. Maybe she can help.”

“I wouldn’t want to—”

He placed a hand on her arm, tried to push aside the shiver on his skin with the contact. “It would make her day to help. My dad is a retired cop and makes her crazy.” Not really true, but Colin felt he needed to add that in to make Parker say yes. “Another set of eyes on the books may help.”

She was wavering. “I don’t know . . .”

“Look at all the people you’re helping by allowing this. Let someone else help you. Maybe she can’t help, maybe she can.” He squeezed the arm he held.

Parker released a long breath. “Fine . . . I mean, okay,” she clarified. “Only if it’s not a bother.”

Colin patted himself on the back. “Not a bother at all. I promise.”

“You sure?”

“Parker.”

“Fine.” The coy smile she sent him made him think some of the weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Come on in.” Parker opened the door and held Scout back at the same time.

Colin had texted her the night before, after their conversation, to say his mother was dropping by once Parker was home from work the following day.

“You must be Parker.”

“I am.” Scout tried to jump. “I’m sorry. He’s not used to being cooped up all day.” The sound of all the heavy equipment drifted in from the open door.

“It’s okay. I love dogs.”

Parker dragged the dog out of the way and scolded him before he settled enough to let him go.

She stood up straight and took a good look at Colin’s mom for the first time. She was slender, but not frail . . . probably in her late sixties, although it was hard to tell. Her hair was a sandy brown, cut short but not overly curled. Colin had her eyes. Warm brown, almost a copper color to them. “Thank you for coming. I’m really not sure if there is anything you can do.”

Mrs. Hudson followed her into the oversize dining room where Parker had opened up a laptop and brought out her files of monthly expenses.

“Colin told me your hours were cut. If we look at everything and there is nothing to be done, well, at least you know. Besides, I’m never too old to meet new friends.”

Her kindness struck a chord in Parker’s chest. “I like that. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Water is fine.” Mrs. Hudson looked around the family room. “You have a lovely home.”

“I can’t take credit for it. This was my parents’ doing. Well, except for the TV. I had to replace that a few years ago.”

“Colin said your parents had passed and that you’ve been caring for your sister and brother.”

Parker grabbed a cold bottle of water from the fridge, gave it to her.

“We look out for each other.”

“Hmmm. How long has it been?”

“Two years.”

She shook her head. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ve had some time to adjust.”

Her kind smile turned to pity. Something Parker had seen every time she told someone about her situation. “It can’t be easy. And you’re so young yourself.”

“I don’t feel young lately.”

“No. I imagine you don’t.” She swiveled to stare out the window looking down over the property. A parade of trucks was hauling debris and excavating the site while separate crews were building the structures five hundred feet from the house. “Colin said this was a big project.”

“I didn’t really know what to expect.”

“It probably wasn’t this.”

Parker found her gaze fixated outside the window, her stare blank. “No.”

Mrs. Hudson placed an arm over her shoulders and brought her out of her daze. “Well, young lady, let’s see what we have here.”

For the next two hours Parker sat beside Colin’s mom and disclosed every source of money coming in and expenses going out. She opened up the bank site and looked at all the accounts her parents had set up. Everything was still in the name of the trust except the personal accounts for her and Mallory.

“These are the college accounts?”

“Yes.”

She clicked around the website. “There is still money going into your brother’s. And yours is almost empty.”

Parker shrugged. “Mine was fully funded by the time our parents died. Austin was fifteen. I didn’t think it was right that I was the only one who could afford to go to college. I kept funding Mallory’s and Austin’s out of mine. I figured by the time they were in college, maybe we could sell the house and I could use that money to go back.” That had been the grand plan, anyway.

“Then where would you live?”

“An apartment . . . I don’t know.”

Mrs. Hudson pointed to a number on the screen. “This is your mortgage, right?”

“Yes.”

“You do realize that is less than what the average apartment is in this valley.”

“That might be, but without the capital I’m not going to be able to go to school and get a job to pay for all this. My dad’s social security will run out once Austin is out of high school.”