Название: Hometown Hope
Автор: Laurel Blount
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Короткие любовные романы
Серия: Mills & Boon Love Inspired
isbn: 9781474096768
isbn:
That must have taken some doing. And as far as Hoyt was concerned, it had been a big waste of time. He’d meant what he told her back in the bookstore. Her hair looked better the other way.
Still. Hoyt glanced down at his own rumpled blue cotton shirt and jeans. All things considered, he probably could have stood a little sprucing up himself. She poked a foil-covered dish in his direction. “I brought dessert.”
She’d taken his suggestion. Maybe this was going to be easier than he’d thought. “I hope it’s those caramel brownies you used to make.” She’d once bribed him to read an entire act of Julius Caesar by allowing him one bite per page.
“Sorry. Banana pudding.”
He’d never much cared for bananas, and from that sharp twinkle in Anna’s eye, she remembered. So much for easy. “Come on in.”
She edged past him into his living room and threw a startled glance upward.
“Oh, wow.” For a second or two she seemed to have forgotten he was standing there, which made the raw admiration in her voice mean even more. “This is incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it. Well, not in somebody’s home, anyway. I feel like I just walked into a cathedral.”
He’d designed the front room of his home with a vaulted ceiling that soared into a high point. Large triangular windows brought in the blue sky and tops of the old pecan trees in his yard. The back wall of the room was mostly glass, too, showcasing the sparkling pond he’d dug out in the back field.
He always enjoyed seeing people react to it, but nobody had ever commented that it looked like a church before now.
Strange, since he’d actually patterned this space after a sanctuary he’d helped build down in Savannah several years ago. He’d liked the way that building had brought in the outdoors, spotlighting God’s creation rather than focusing on man-made curlicues. He thought he’d done a pretty fair job of copying that here.
Weird that Anna Delaney of all people would be the one who picked up on that.
“Thanks,” he said simply.
Anna flushed and nodded awkwardly. She reached up a hand to tuck a straying lock of hair back into place. It flopped right back down as soon as she quit fussing with it.
Hoyt tried not to grin. For such an uptight girl, Anna sure had some wild hair. It was a glossy brown, and when she wore it down, it fell in loose spirals past her shoulders. She’d been fighting with it—and losing—as long as he’d known her.
“Where’s Jess?” Anna dug in the bag she had looped over one elbow and produced a storybook. “I brought her something.”
“She’s not here.” The immediate alarm in Anna’s expression might have been funny if there hadn’t been so much at stake. “We need to talk about some stuff she doesn’t need to overhear, so I asked Bailey Quinn to take her out to Tino’s for a pizza.” Anna still looked uneasy, so he added, “That’s okay, isn’t it?”
She hesitated but then set her bag down on the table by the door and nodded. “I guess so.” She tilted her head and sniffed. “Hoyt? Is something burning?”
He made it to the kitchen about the time the smoke alarm started going off. He opened the oven and drew out four charred lumps of garlic bread. Even by his low standards, they weren’t salvageable.
Not a good start.
“If that’s our dinner maybe we should skip right to dessert.”
Anna had followed him and was leaning against the doorframe. Bombing the bread had served one purpose at least. She didn’t look suspicious anymore. She looked amused.
“Nah, the lasagna’s okay.” Mainly because it had started out in the supermarket’s frozen foods section. “I was trying to hurry this bread along. Me and the broil setting on this oven have a love-hate thing going on. I like it because it cooks stuff fast, but if you forget about it—” he gestured to the smoking lumps “—charcoal.” The smoke alarm was still shrilling. “Could you hand me that broom?”
Anna picked it up. Instead of passing it to him, she upended it and poked the button on the ceiling alarm. The shrieking stopped.
When she saw him looking at her, she shrugged. “I went through a stir-fry period right after my dad died. I think I learned more about the smoke alarm in our old kitchen than I did about Chinese cooking.”
That reminded him. Avoiding her eyes, Hoyt grabbed another pot holder and picked up the hot tinfoil pan of lasagna. “I’m sorry I missed Principal Delaney’s funeral. I don’t know how it slipped by me. I was planning to go, but then I never saw the announcement about it.”
“There wasn’t one.”
“You should have announced it. I imagine pretty much everybody in town would have been there. Your dad was principal at the high school forever.”
“No. I meant there wasn’t a funeral.”
Hoyt set the steaming pan down on the table and turned to look at her. “What?”
“I mean no public one.” Anna avoided his gaze. “I just had a private memorial service. Only the minister and I were there.”
“Why?”
“Well, Dad was sick for years and toward the end he didn’t even recognize people. He was...disconnected. Nobody would’ve come.” She glanced up at him and frowned. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
Hoyt realized he was staring at her with his mouth open. “Are you crazy? Everybody would have come. This whole town loved your dad.”
She looked at him skeptically. “Then why didn’t people visit him after he got sick? I mean, a few people did at first but then...” A spasm of pain crossed her face. “He didn’t always know who people were, but he liked having visitors.”
Regret settled on Hoyt’s chest like a rock. That hurt in her eyes hit really close to home. “I wondered the same thing when Marylee got sick. People I expected to come by the hospital...didn’t. Jacob Stone said it didn’t mean they didn’t care. He said that people have a hard time seeing somebody they love suffering.”
She nodded. “He said the same thing to me.” From the look on her face, she hadn’t found it much more comforting than he had.
“I should have come by to see him. I’m sorry I didn’t. Your dad was always good to me. Even after what happened senior year—”
“You know what? Let’s not get into all that.” Anna cut him off. “I’m here because you wanted to talk to me about Jess.”
All right. If Anna wanted to leave the past in the past, that was fine by him. “Okay. How about I say grace, and we’ll talk while we eat?”
They settled at the two places he’d set, and Hoyt reached across the table and took her hands in his.
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