Raeanne Thayne Hope's Crossings Series Volume One. RaeAnne Thayne

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      “Claire had a little tree damage from the wind last night. I was just taking the chain saw to the worst of the downed branches.”

      “Well, wasn’t that neighborly of you?”

      Riley didn’t seem fazed by the slight sarcastic tone in his sister’s voice. He smiled blandly, although Claire thought his expression still looked a little shell-shocked. “I do my best.”

      He had far more experience even than she did deflecting the sometimes-formidable moods of Alexandra McKnight, Claire remembered.

      “Would you like a sandwich?” Claire asked quickly.

      “Maybe.”

      When Claire reached down to maneuver the blasted chair toward the refrigerator, Alex stopped her with a hard glare and a foot in front of one of the wheels.

      “If you dare try making me a sandwich, I just might break your other leg,” her dearest friend in the world snapped.

      “Oh, come on. I can make a sandwich. I made one for me and Riley.”

      “Leave me out of this, please,” he said in an amused voice.

      “You should be in bed, not in here babying my little brother.”

      Was that what she was doing? She risked a look at Riley and found him watching her, an unreadable expression on his features.

      Claire cleared her throat. “I’m not babying anyone. All I did was make a sandwich.”

      “Which you don’t need to do for me. If I’m hungry, I’ll make my own damn sandwich.”

      “Just for the record, I didn’t ask her for anything,” Riley said. “The deed was done when I came inside.”

      “But then, you’re never one to turn down a meal. Or anything else, for that matter.”

      “What’s that supposed to mean?” Riley asked, his expression suddenly dangerous.

      Claire didn’t want to deal with their bickering right now, when she was already feeling unsteady and weak.

      “You know where everything is,” she said. “Knock yourself out.”

      “I will.”

      While Alex moved around the kitchen pulling out ingredients—with much more fluid, efficient movements than Claire ever could, even before her injuries—she sat petting Chester and trying to avoid meeting Riley’s eyes.

      So they had kissed. What was the big deal? She had every right to kiss anyone she wanted. She could start a queue of eligible men right here in the kitchen, line them out down the sidewalk and into the street if that was her heart’s desire.

      Not that she knew that many men she might be interested in kissing. Her divorce had been final for two years and she’d gone on exactly one date, an awkward affair with a widowed insurance adjuster from Tellu-ride she met in line at the grocery store.

      The whole thing had been a disaster from the moment he showed up at her house with his three children in the backseat.

      “I couldn’t get a sitter,” he’d apologized, so she spent the entire dinner cutting meat into pieces, wiping faces, ignoring snide comments from his bratty prepubescent daughter.

      She hadn’t been eager to dip her toes into the dating pool again.

      Not that she was thinking about dating Riley. It was just a kiss, for heaven’s sake. Okay, a pretty stunning, toe-curling one, as far as kisses went. But still only a kiss.

      She didn’t need to explain herself to Alex, not with Ms. McKnight’s own dealings with the opposite sex. Alex specialized in the short-term relationship, dating only ski bums or guests at the resort who came into her restaurant. She pushed away everyone who wanted anything more meaningful.

      “So the kids are still gone with Jeff and the ditz?” Alex asked.

      “Until tomorrow. Their tickets for the show are tonight.”

      Jeff and Holly were taking the children to a traveling Broadway production of The Lion King. Claire would have loved to take the kids herself, but she’d decided her budget couldn’t quite squeeze out tickets at $150 a pop. That translated into a whole lot of bead sales.

      “How are you coping on your own?”

      She flashed a look at Riley, who had eased back in his chair, his arm over the back of the one next to him. Claire winced, thinking of her foolish worry over the visit from the Angel of Hope and how she had flashed her porch lights to scare him off.

      “I’m fine. Just trying to hang on another few weeks when I can get a walking cast and be able to dump the wheels.”

      “That’s great.” Alex finished her sandwich creation, which truly looked like something she would serve at the restaurant, complete with a little carrot peel garnish.

      She’d always been that way, even when they were girls. Claire smiled when she thought of all the hours they’d logged in the McKnight kitchen, making brownies or popcorn balls or snickerdoodles.

      “Have you checked on Maura today?” Claire asked, aware even as she spoke of Riley’s features going taut.

      “I just dropped off a basket of muffins for her.”

      “How is she?”

      “Hard to say. She’s numb. The way she’s acting, you’d think she was drugged or something, but she refuses to take anything the doctor is trying to give her. She says it will only anesthetize her brain and delay the pain.”

      “Is someone with her?” Riley asked. Claire heard the grim note in his voice and saw the way his jaw tightened.

      “Sage. Thank the Lord for her.”

      Poor Sage. Claire was somewhat ashamed to realize she’d been so busy worrying about Maura that she hadn’t given much thought to her friend’s older daughter, who had lost her only sister. Smart and funny and uncommonly pretty, Sage wanted to be an architect. She was in her second year at the University of Colorado at Boulder, finishing her general education credits. This was bound to hit her hard.

      “She has to go back Monday,” Alex said as she finally slid into a chair around the table. “Finals are the week after next.”

      “That will be tough on Maura, when she’s alone in the house.” That had been the roughest times at first when the divorce had been finalized, when Jeff would take the kids and she would be alone here in this big house.

      Worry furrowed Alex’s fey features. “Sage wanted to just bag school and stay home because she’s already missed two weeks of classes, but Maura won’t hear of it. I have to agree. I mean, she’s this close to the end, it seems foolish to throw away an entire semester. I’m just not sure how Maura will do once Sage returns to school. I think Ma will probably go stay with her for a while, if she’ll let her.”

      Claire had СКАЧАТЬ