How could he know she was on the other side? After Steve had spotted her through the sidelights, she’d learned to approach the door with stealth—in case any other unwelcome visitors showed up.

Yet Charley had never been anything but friendly—and if that bag held his famous tacos, he was more than welcome.

She flipped the lock and opened the door. “Hi, Charley. This is an unexpected pleasure.”

“Glad to hear it. I’m always cautious about calling on people who are under the weather—but I hoped an order of tacos would hasten the healing process.”

“Better than any medicine the doctor could order. Would you like to come in?”

“If I’m not intruding.”

“Not at all. I’m used to talking with customers at the shop. It can get lonely here all by myself.” She pulled the door wide.

“No other visitors?” He stepped past her, into the apartment.

“A few friends from Coos Bay have dropped in—and Christi gets my mail and brings me takeout from the Myrtle.” She closed the door. “I hired her to help at the shop, not be a nurse—or a food delivery service. She’s been a godsend.”

“The perfect word.” He lifted the bag. “Shall I put these somewhere for you, since your hands are occupied?”

An echo of what Steve had said on Sunday.

“If you don’t mind. The kitchen’s straight ahead, through the living room.”

Charley took the lead, slowing to touch a blossom as he passed the bouquet of flowers. “Pretty.”

He didn’t ask who’d sent them—and she didn’t fill him in as he continued to the kitchen.

“I put a bottle of water in the bag, but I’ll be happy to get you a different beverage if you like.” He set the food on the table.

“Water is fine.”

“You should eat these while they’re hot—unless you’ve already had lunch.”

“No. Your timing was providential.”

“I won’t argue with that. A mighty hand governs the eternal clock.”

Interesting observation from a man who often spouted thought-provoking statements—and radiated a certain spiritual aura—but who’d never referenced God during her many visits to his taco truck.

“You seem surprised by my comment.” He offered her a smile.

She shifted her weight on the crutches. “I am—a little. I guess I’ve never thought of you as that religious.”

“Depends how you define religious, I suppose.” He motioned to the bag of tacos. “If you’d like company while you enjoy those, I’d be happy to discuss the subject.”

While religion hadn’t been on her lunch menu, it would be rude to dismiss him after he’d gone to the trouble of bringing her this unexpected treat.

“I wouldn’t mind a bit of conversation. Solitary meals get old. Please, have a seat. There’s soda in the fridge if you’d like one.”