A McKaslin Homecoming. Jillian Hart

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ the difference. Her knees felt watery, but they held her weight as she stood in the dappled sunlight and felt her grandmother’s scrutiny. The car door whispered open and the woman emerged. She had sleek silver hair cut in a bob that curled thickly at her jawline. Porcelain skin. A dainty chin. The lines of her face were crisp and clean and familiar. Like her mother’s. Like her own.

      But the elegance and grace of the woman, the power and dignity were different. Mary Whitman commanded attention. She took a regal step forward. Dressed in quality clothes, she looked casual and tasteful. She wore sleek tailored tan slacks and a coordinating cashmere cardigan and mock-turtle-neck shell. Accents of gold—fine gold, no fourteen karat stuff—glinted at her earlobes and throat, wrist and fingers. Her designer purse and shoes matched perfectly and looked pristine, unscuffed.

      Lauren had never felt so small. She felt painfully aware of her wrinkled khaki shorts and her simple summer top—not exactly designer or the latest fashion. Her discount-store rubber flip-flops were nearly worn out.

      Only now did it occur to her that maybe she should have stopped at a fast-food place and used the bathroom to change into nicer clothes. With a sinking feeling, she had to admit that nothing in her wardrobe would make a better impression on this woman. She’d assumed her mother had come from simple beginnings.

      She smoothed the wrinkled cuff of her shorts and tasted her nervousness. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person. I’m Lauren.”

      Okay, that was obvious. But the woman—her grandmother—wasn’t saying anything. She just stood there, one hand resting on the side of her car door, not moving a muscle.

      It was Caleb Stone who broke the silence. “Mary, are you all right?”

      He dropped his grip on Lauren’s arm and moved forward. In that moment, Lauren saw the caring. The genuine concern. He had a good heart.

      “No.” The older woman nearly choked on the word. She lifted her hand to her chest, pressing against her throat. “The sight of her simply knocks the breath from me. Lauren, you’re the spitting image. It’s just uncanny.”

      “Of Katherine?” Caleb asked.

      Lauren didn’t know who Katherine was. She was only aware of the pain beginning to fill her chest.

      It’s my mom, she thought, knowing there had been a terrible rift between her grandmother and mother, something horrible enough for each to ignore the other for two decades. Without a doubt it was her mom’s fault.

      “I—I look like L-Linda, I know.” Her voice caught on her mother’s name, or maybe it was the swirling emotions and fears that made her stutter. “But I’m n-nothing like her. I don’t want to upset you.”

      “No, I’m not upset. Just surprised.” Mary Whitman took off her sunglasses, exposing gentle green eyes brimming with tears. “You look something like Linda, true, but heavens, look at you. You’re the very image of my sister, gone this last year. It’s like she’s come to life again. Goodness. Come closer, child.”

      I don’t remember this woman, Lauren thought, taking a stumbling step forward. But she wanted to. With all of her heart. Surely there were some memories tucked away. She tried to resurrect them. Images of homemade cookies or hot chocolate—but there was only a blank. Nothing at all. No recollections of a younger-looking version of this woman before the silver hair and the gentle wrinkles.

      Mary Whitman stood tall with a poise that came from a lifetime of rising above adversity. Lauren could sense it, see it in the dignity of the woman’s tear-filled eyes. Tears that did not fall. Her arms stretched out, eager for a hug.

      Lauren came from a childhood without a lot of affection. She couldn’t remember the last time her mother had hugged her. The thought was uncomfortable, but she stumbled forward anyway and into the circle of her grandmother’s embrace.

      Lilacs. Mary smelled of lilacs. It was a scent Lauren remembered. Somewhere in the vast shadows of her early childhood, she saw the glimmer of memory just out of reach, bobbing closer to the surface.

      It was a start.

      Chapter Three

      Over her grandmother’s shoulder, Lauren caught sight of Caleb’s slow, silent retreat. He held her lemonade glass in one hand as he backed away. Their gazes met. For one instant, the breeze stopped blowing. Her heart stilled and the tightness in her chest faded.

      “I told you.” He mouthed the words, lifted a hand in farewell and headed silently out of sight, leaving behind the impression of his kindness. A kindness she appreciated.

      Mary released her from the hug, but held tight to her hand, as if she were determined not to let go.

      Strange, Lauren had come here feeling vulnerable, but this woman’s arm was so frail, nothing but fragile bones and a silk sleeve. Lauren took a more guiding hold on her to make sure she was all right. “You look like you need to sit down.”

      “No, dear. Just taken back. You wouldn’t remember my dear sister. Cancer took her. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t miss her sorely.”

      “I’m sorry.” She couldn’t imagine what that must be like, to miss someone so much. To love them so much.

      Judging by the pain stark on her grandmother’s face and how it seemed to drain her of strength, Lauren decided that she might live a lonely life, but maybe she was lucky, in a way. She would never know her grandmother’s sorrow and loss and heartbreak.

      Maybe that was better, to be safe from that kind of pain.

      “I’m so glad you’ve come. Now, let me get a good look at you. My, how you’ve grown. A little underfed, but that’s an easy remedy. I can’t get over it. All this time.” Tears silvered Mary’s eyes. “Twenty-two years just flew by and it’s an eternity all the same. It’s been enough for the sweet little toddler you were to grow up. You don’t remember me at all, do you?”

      “No, but I wish I did.”

      “Well, here I’m going on and on and you must be tired from such a long drive. You must have come up through Utah.”

      “I did. It was a gorgeous drive. It’s lovely here, too.”

      “I think so, too. It’s home.” Mary slipped her arm through Lauren’s. “I hope you don’t mind I’ve put you out here.”

      Sadness seemed to stick with the older woman and her voice was brittle sounding. Lauren didn’t know what to say or how to make it better. She looked up to realize there was an in-ground pool to her left, glittering around an enormous brick patio. Ahead, there was a garden gate that led to a small cottage, hidden behind climbing roses and flowering shrubs.

      It was sweet, like something out of a gardener’s dream.

      “This used to be my studio, and then a guest house. Your sister Katherine lived here for a long while, until she got her own place in town. Caleb stayed here when he went to college. He lives next door now, and takes care of the place for me when I’m gone. These days I spend most of my time in Arizona.” Mary led the way along the cozy porch to the front door. “Speaking of Caleb, where did he get off to?”

      “To see to the horses, I think.”

      “He’s СКАЧАТЬ