Heaven Sent and His Hometown Girl: Heaven Sent / His Hometown Girl. Jillian Hart

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СКАЧАТЬ a little faith, Nanna. I’m all grown up. I think I can figure out a faucet handle and an ancient stove.”

      “’Pride goes before destruction, and haughtiness before a fall.’”

      “Relax.” Hope helped Nanna lean back into her pillows, then reached for the quilt to cover her. “I’m not going to burn down the kitchen.”

      “You almost did once, you know.”

      “I was seventeen years old.” Hope pressed a kiss to Nanna’s brow. How fast time passed. And it was passing faster every day. “You get some rest, and I’ll be right back with some scrambled eggs.”

      “Now this I have to see,” Nanna mused.

      Hope pulled the door closed and hurried downstairs, her heart heavy. Nanna was wrong, she didn’t need the pain of marriage. She’d watched her parents up close and personal, and she’d sworn never to live like that. Ever.

      Even now, remembering, her stomach tensed and she laid her hand there. The ulcer still bothered her from time to time. Usually whenever she thought about her family.

      Yes, singleness was one gift from the Lord she intended to cherish for the rest of her life.

      

      “Matthew, you have to take my place on the Founder’s Days planning committee. I can’t do everything.” Matthew’s mother herded three little boys into her living room. Building blocks clattered and sounds of glee filled the air. “I don’t mind keeping the triplets over the summer, you know that. But these three are a lot to keep up to. You’re going to have to do some things for me.”

      “The committee meetings are during the day, and you know I can’t take off work. I’ve got a roof to put on the McKaslins’ hay barn—”

      “You can work it out. You’re self-employed.” Mom pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Tell you what, I’ll sweeten the deal. I’ll keep the boys past supper every night if you’ll take over this one tiny, little obligation for me.”

      “I’m a carpenter. I don’t know the first thing about committees.”

      “Nonsense, a smart man like you. The meeting is this morning, from ten-thirty to eleven-thirty at Karen’s little coffee shop. Oh, those boys are a busy bunch, aren’t they?” Mom took off at a run. “Ian, don’t climb up the fireplace. No, not even if you’re a fireman.”

      There was a twinkle in her eye. The planning committee, as far as he knew, consisted of the town’s oldest citizens.

      If Mom wasn’t playing matchmaker, she was still up to something. If only he knew what.

      

      Manhattan, Montana crept into sight around the last bend. Hope hadn’t seen this place since she was seventeen. Last night, when she’d driven through with Matthew, it had been dark and late, the streets deserted.

      In the light of day, she saw that much was different from what she remembered. Businesses had changed hands, new stores had come in, but the character and the small-town feel remained.

      It was the closest thing to home she’d known in her entire life.

      “It’s good to be back, isn’t it?” Why did Nanna sound triumphant? “I always knew you belonged here, Hope, and not in your parents’ world.”

      “What does that mean, exactly?” Hope braked as an elderly man jaywalked leisurely across the wide, two-lane street.

      “It means you’re the kind of person who needs roots, like me. To plant them deep and watch your life grow.” Nanna tapped her fingers against the dash. “Turn here. Right there in front of the blue shop.”

      Hope eased Nanna’s old sedan into a parking spot. The hand-painted sign on the row of shops read Field of Beans. “I’m not a tree. I don’t have roots.”

      “You know darn well what I mean, you’re being stubborn.” Nanna opened her door. “Kirby, dear, bring those crutches. I can handle the steps by myself.”

      Hope saw the nurse’s exasperated look in the rearview. “Don’t tell me she’s always like this?”

      “Usually she’s worse.” The young nurse hopped out of the car, hurrying to help.

      Hope listened to her grandmother issue orders to Kirby as she situated the crutches beneath her arms. Nanna might be injured, but her spirit remained unscathed. Hope stepped out into the fresh spring morning to lend Kirby a hand.

      Already the sun was hot, and dust mixed in the air. She smelled freshly ground coffee and baking muffins. “Nanna, is there anything you want from the store?”

      “Oh, no, you don’t.” Nanna wobbled to a stop. “You’re coming to the meeting with me. You can do your errands-running later.”

      “But you have Kirby—”

      “Kirby has to go fill some prescriptions for me.”

      “I have to run over to Zach’s garage and rescue my Jeep. Then I have to grocery shop.” Hope took hold of her grandmother’s fragile elbow. “Don’t worry, I’ll help Kirby get you inside—”

      “Look, there’s Matthew Sheridan crossing the street.” Nanna took a stronger step. “It looks like he’s heading for Karen’s coffee place, too. Good. I’ve been needing to speak with him.”

      “What you need to do is concentrate or you’re going to fall off those things. Maybe we should get the wheelchair from the trunk—”

      “Don’t you dare. There’s only three stairs, and I’m starting to get the hang of these crutches.” Nanna hobbled forward, then stopped in the middle of the first board step. “Why, Matthew. The man I’ve been looking for.”

      “Me?” He strolled to a stop on the sidewalk above, his face shaded by the brim of his Stetson. “Nora Greenley. I can’t believe you’re up and around.”

      “It’s hard to keep an old warhorse down,” Nanna quipped as her fingers caught Hope’s sleeve. “Matthew, I have a terrible problem up at the house. Now, I could have called the McKaslin boy, but I hear you’re a better carpenter. I need some work done on my kitchen.”

      “I’d be happy to come take a look.” He held out his hand, palm up. It was a strong hand with calluses thick on his sun-browned skin. “Do you need help up these stairs?”

      “I can handle the stairs. You talk a minute with my granddaughter and find a time she can show you the kitchen.” Nanna was suddenly busy crutching up the steps and avoiding Matthew’s gaze. “Hope, be a dear and handle this for me.”

      “You know I can’t say no to you, Nanna.” But Hope did feel suspicion burn in her heart. What was her grandmother up to?

      “Kirby will see me in, dear. Just make sure you come and join me. If I need help, I’d hate to interrupt the meeting. You understand.”

      “I understand.” Was that a twinkle in the older woman’s eye? Nanna knew better than to try to fix her up with poor Matthew Sheridan, СКАЧАТЬ