The Single Dad Next Door. Jessica Keller

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ didn’t get it. How could she? Paige grew up in a wealthy family, still had both her parents and ended up married to an amazing man. Maggie would know. Paige’s new husband, Caleb Beck, used to be Maggie’s brother-in-law. Sure, Paige had experienced some hurt in life. But one broken engagement couldn’t compare to losing a loved one to death. And Maggie had experienced the loss of four so far.

      Ida had cared about those things Kellen was chucking into the Dumpster. So should he.

      “Talk to you later.” Maggie hung up.

      Slipping on an old pair of loafers, Maggie flung open the back door and stormed into Ida’s yard. Her heart pounded harder with every step. Kellen had set more of Ida’s belongings in the yard than she’d been able to see from her vantage point in the inn. Side tables. Old frames with family pictures still inside. Mismatched teacups lined the edge of one table.

      Maggie snatched up a cream-colored teacup with hand-painted leaves around the gold rim. They looked as if they were blowing in the wind—always in motion. The cup was beautiful. Ida had scoured countless resale shops and country fairs in order to find the best cups for her collection. She never settled for second-rate or mass-produced china.

      Kellen appeared next to her elbow. “I haven’t put prices on anything yet, so just make an offer on whatever you see that you like and let me know.”

      She spun around and was almost nose to nose with him. He had no right to smell so good. Against her better judgment she took a deep breath—fresh lemon with a slight mossy scent. Whatever cologne he wore she wanted to spritz it in her room before she climbed into her reading chair with a good book. It made her feel cozy in the same way she wanted to open her windows after a good rainstorm just to enjoy the air.

       Who puts cologne on to work a garage sale?

       An overmanicured man. That’s who.

      Exactly the type she didn’t like to be around.

      Maggie took a step back, making space. “How can you do this to Ida?”

      He tilted his head. “I’m not doing anything to Ida. How can I?”

      “By selling all of her stuff. You’re hurting her memory.” Maggie gestured to wave her hand over all the possessions scattered on the lawn. “You’re basically saying you didn’t care about Ida at all.”

      Kellen shrugged. “For starters, I didn’t really know Ida. It’s hard to care about someone you hardly knew.”

      “But that’s just it. You can know her. See?” Maggie shoved the delicate china cup into his hand. “She loved drinking her daily tea from these mismatched cups. She had a different mug she used each day of the week and special ones for her friends. The one you’re holding she used on Saturdays. It was precious to her. It should be to you, too.”

      He turned the cup around and around in his hand. “I guess it’s interesting—if you can call a mug that.” Kellen set it back in a box with the rest of Ida’s china. “But I don’t drink tea and it wouldn’t hold enough coffee for my taste. My preference leans toward huge, ugly travel mugs. Anyway, I have no use for her china, so it can be sold.”

      Maggie picked the mug back up. “This cup has life because Ida loved it. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

      Kellen’s face fell—as though he was suddenly disappointed or tired. “Things are just that—material possessions. That cup holds no more life than a mailbox. If I’ve learned one thing, it’s that we should be more concerned with the time we have with the people we love than with objects that can be lost or broken or taken away at any minute. In the end, accumulating stuff doesn’t matter. At least it shouldn’t.”

      He couldn’t understand. He’d never get it.

      Maggie’s arms trembled as she took a deep breath, easing the rage boiling right under her skin. Besides, who did he think he was—trying to teach her some sort of spiritual lesson? She knew better than anyone that time with people was the most important thing of all.

      Maggie also knew that people left without warning, both in death and because they decided Goose Harbor wasn’t exciting enough for them to stay. In the end, their belongings helped her remember them and she saw no harm in holding on to a few old possessions if they allowed her to recall a few good memories. Was that so bad?

      Maggie pursed her lips. “Ida mattered. Why can’t you see that? These things are your heritage. She chose to leave you her legacy and you’re tossing it all away.”

      “No.” He rested his hands on his waist and surveyed the lawn. “The money I’ll make selling all of it—that is my heritage.”

      “So that’s all you care about—the bottom line?”

      Kellen laughed, once, in a clipped manner. The laugh held no humor. “I care so little about money...” He looked down the road and didn’t speak for a moment. The muscle on the side of his jaw popped. “What I care about is providing a good life for my girls. That’s what I’m doing.” His vision landed back on her.

      Maggie blinked back tears. “How much for the mug?”

      “You can have it. No charge.”

      She had to get back to the inn before she started all-out crying. He’d already judged her for being materialistic. If she stayed any longer she’d start running her hands over everything that had belonged to Ida, remembering a story that went with each item. She’d turn into a blubbering mess and he’d think she had a screw loose. No one needed that.

      Maggie nodded to him. Afraid to even thank him for letting her have the mug. On her way back home she made the mistake of walking past a table full of Ida’s old books. Maggie knew many of them were first editions and worth hundreds. Kellen probably didn’t know and would give them away for a song. Maybe he deserved that. Then again, if he needed money to provide for his girls, she should tell him. She stared at the pile, biting her lip.

      One book had fallen onto the dewy ground. Maggie bent to pick it up and then froze. She turned and stalked back to Kellen. “Her Bible?” Her voice rose. “You were going to sell her Bible? There is something seriously wrong with you.”

      Kellen’s eyebrows formed a deep V. “Excuse me. I think you’d better—”

      “If you cared about nothing in that house—” she stabbed her finger in the direction of the cottage “—if you sold every piece of it and bulldozed the entire property, you should have kept this. Out of everything, at least her Bible should have mattered.” Maggie fanned the book open. Every available space on the pages was full of handwritten notes in Ida’s shaky script. Each page was covered with pink, green and orange highlighter, and most of the text had been underlined at one point or another.

      Maggie thrust the book into his hands. “These pages record a woman’s faith journey. Do you see her notes in the margin? Every word in this book meant something to her. She held this Bible every day and it changed her life.” Maggie no longer fought the tears as they fell down her cheeks. She snatched the Bible back, pressed it to her heart and crossed her arms over it. “You don’t care about anything or anyone, do you, Kellen Ashby?”

      He didn’t even deserve to share Ida’s last name.

      Kellen worked his jaw back СКАЧАТЬ