Lakeside Sweethearts. Lisa Jordan

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      “Hey, what’s up with that?”

      Shaking out a clean cloth, she glared at him as if she wanted to dump the water over his head. “You’re acting about as dense as a fence post. You asked me to help knowing how much I despise that place.”

      He rubbed a damp hand over his face. He had expected her to be less than thrilled once she found out, but he had nothing to do with the building choice.

      “It’s been over five years. I just thought—”

      “Ian, I’d do almost anything for you...for your family. Especially after what your daddy did for mine all those years ago. But I can’t do this. And you of all people shouldn’t be asking me.” She bundled the damp tablecloth and wet napkins into a ball.

      “Listen—”

      She held up a hand. “No, you listen. I said I’d never step foot in that wretched house again.”

      Ian rounded the table and stood in front of her. “I know your marriage to Bobby wasn’t what you had envisioned, but he’s not around anymore. You even went back to your maiden name. He has no hold on you.”

      She dropped her eyes to the wet fabric in her arms. “That house holds nothing but bad memories for me. I’ve spent the past five and a half years putting that decade of my life behind me.”

      “Have you?” He tipped her chin.

      “Have I what?”

      “Put it behind you? If so, then going back to that house wouldn’t be a problem.”

      She pushed past him and headed for the door. “You have no idea.”

      He reached for her arm. “I can’t do this alone.”

      “My head is ready to jump on board, but my heart...well, they’re not on speaking terms at the moment. I know this is so important to all y’all. Just once I wish God would take a shine to answering one of my dreams.”

      The longing in her voice needled his heart. “God has a dream bigger than your own, Red. What He gives you will be greater than anything you’ve ever imagined.”

      “Not for a throwaway like me.” The desolation on her face twisted his gut. “You’re hoping to restore that place into a house of hope, but don’t y’all see? It will never be anything but a house of pain.”

      She pushed past him and hurried into the main dining room. The lingering scent of her perfume wasn’t strong enough to mask the defeat that settled over his shoulders.

      He had been so sure she’d say yes. But now he needed to find another way to convince her to agree—for all of their sakes.

      He wanted her help with Agape House, but not just for restoring his family. More than that, he wanted to restore her heart and prove she was worthy of being loved.

      * * *

      If she were a real friend, she’d shove her regrets and bad memories into the past where they belonged and help Ian. As her family’s dearest friends, they’d drop everything if the roles were reversed.

      So why couldn’t she do it?

      Agnes shoved the tablecloths into the washer and slammed the lid, trying to blot Ian’s pleading eyes from her memory.

      Being in that house would release the ghosts she’d managed to imprison so she’d have some semblance of a normal life.

      Saying no was her only option.

      Agnes returned to the kitchen to find it empty, but a light glowed from under Josie’s closed office door. Probably needed a few minutes with her feet up.

      Josie’s pregnancy with Noah, her eleven-month-old, had been a piece of cake. With this new pregnancy, she dealt with a lot of morning sickness...or as she called it—all day sickness.

      Agnes tried to convince her to go home, but she insisted on helping with the luncheon.

      Agnes opened the stainless steel industrial refrigerator and reached for the glass bowl of mixed greens. Balancing the covered bowl against her chest, she grabbed the stack of salad plates chilling on the top shelf and closed the door with her foot. She set everything on the stainless counter, then washed her hands.

      Not even the scent of lemon meringue pie baking in the oven could add sweetness to her sour mood.

      The kitchen door swung open, and Hannah, Josie and Nick’s twelve-year-old daughter, bounced into the kitchen, wearing brown leggings, a blue fitted T-shirt that matched the rest of the Cuppa Josie’s staff and a striped Cuppa Josie’s apron.

      Although she was too young to work, Hannah liked to volunteer and help when Josie had private parties in the side dining room.

      “I’m here to help, Aggie. Tell me what you need.” Hannah rested an elbow on the counter and snatched a tomato out of the salad Agnes pulled from the fridge.

      Agnes tapped her on the nose. “Thanks, Sugar Pie.”

      Two years ago, Nick had donated his bone marrow to knock the leukemia from her body. Now Hannah thrived with color restored back in her cheeks. A miniature clone of Josie, but with her daddy’s eyes and nose, Hannah had chin-length cocoa-colored hair, held back with a flowered headband. Almost as tall as Josie now, she had a sweet spirit that touched everyone she met.

      “Have you seen Mom?”

      “Her office light is on. She may be taking a breather for a minute.”

      Agnes nodded toward the glass plates she had pulled from the fridge. “Please take those to the side dining room and set them on the buffet table. The coffee and tea are already on the beverage table, but you could put out some lemonade. I’ll be in with the salad as soon as I add the cranberries and almonds.”

      Hannah reached for the plates and pushed through the door.

      Josie chose that moment to return to the kitchen, refastening her hair into a messy bun. A blue Cuppa Josie’s apron tied at her waist emphasized her expanding belly. “Sorry for ditching you. One of the coffee suppliers called to confirm a new shipment.”

      “Everything straightened out?”

      “Yes, I will be able to use my superpowers to continue to caffeinate the world.” She stifled a yawn. Dark circles gathered under her brown eyes, highlighting her pale skin.

      Agnes opened the bag of dried cranberries and poured them into the salad. “Sugar Pie, why don’t you let me handle this luncheon, and you put your feet up?”

      “Agnes, this isn’t 1950. I’ve been pregnant before. I can handle it.” Josie smiled as she reached for pot holders to pull the pie out of the oven.

      “You’ve been working since six this morning. Surely you could use a break.”

      “I’ll leave as soon as the luncheon is done. I promise. Hannah’s СКАЧАТЬ