Anna Meets Her Match. Arlene James

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      “Poor Reeves,” Odelia said as his hurried footsteps faded.

      “Poor Gilli,” Mags snorted. “That boy is deaf, dumb and blind where she’s concerned, though he means well, I’m sure.”

      “Yes, of course,” Hypatia said, her gaze seeing back through the years. “Reeves always means well, but how could he know what to do with Gilli? Children learn by example, and while I love our baby sister, Dorinda hasn’t always done best by her oldest two. And that says nothing of their father.”

      “Melinda has done well,” Odelia pointed out, referring to Reeves’s one full sibling. He had five half siblings, including twin sisters and a brother, all younger than him.

      “True,” Hypatia acknowledged, “but I wonder if Melinda’s happy marriage hasn’t made Reeves’s divorce more difficult for him. He’s a man of faith, though, and he loves his daughter. He’ll learn to deal with Gilli eventually.”

      Mags arched an eyebrow. “What that man needs is someone to help him understand what Gilli’s going through and how to handle her.”

      “If anyone can understand Gilli, it’s Anna Miranda,” Odelia gushed.

      Hypatia’s eyes widened. “You’re exactly right about that, dear.” She tapped the small cleft in her chin. Everyone in the family had one to some degree, but Hypatia wasn’t thinking of that now. She was thinking of Anna Miranda’s childhood. “I believe,” she said, eyes narrowing, “that Anna Miranda is going to be even more help to us than we’d assumed and in more ways than we’d realized.”

      Mags sat up straight, both brows rising. After a moment, she slowly grinned. Odelia, however, frowned in puzzlement.

      “Do you think she’ll volunteer for one of the committees?” Odelia asked.

      “Oh, I think her talents are best used with the printing,” Hypatia mused. “She’s suggested that the fund-raiser should have its own unique logo, and I concur, but designing it will probably require a good deal of her time. After all, we have to pick just the right design.”

      “Exactly the right design,” Magnolia agreed.

      “Yes,” Hypatia went on, smiling broadly, “I do think that best suits our needs.”

      “Ours,” Magnolia purred suggestively, “and Reeves’s.”

      “And Gilli’s!” Odelia added brightly, finally seeing the wisdom of this decision.

      Hypatia smiled. How perfect was the timing of God and how mysterious His ways. Honeybees, indeed.

      Chapter Two

      The back door of the shop had barely closed behind Anna before her boss’s voice assaulted her ear. “Took you long enough!”

      Dropping her notebook on the front counter, she turned toward his open office door. “I’ll skip lunch to make up for the time.”

      She’d been late to work that morning. It happened all too frequently, despite her best efforts, and Dennis despised tardiness. He rose from behind his desk and stalked around it, his big belly leading the way. Looking down his nose at her, his sandy brown mustache quivered with suppressed anger. Her coworker Howard gave her a pitying shake of his graying head before turning back to his task. Dragging up a smile, Anna faced her employer with more aplomb than she truly felt, but that was the story of her life. She had made an art of putting up the careless, heedless front while inwardly cringing.

      “They want a lot of stuff,” she told him cheerfully, “and they’re interested in a special logo, something unique to the fund-raiser. I’ll just draw up some designs and get together some estimates.”

      “They better be good,” Dennis warned.

      “Of course,” she quipped. “Good is my middle name. Isn’t that why you keep me around?”

      “Miranda is your middle name,” he pointed out, shaking his head in confusion.

      Howard sent her a chiding look. He was right. Dennis was the most sadly humorless man she’d ever known. All attempts at levity were lost on him.

      The chime that signaled the opening of the front door sounded. Smile in place, Anna turned to greet a potential customer, only to freeze. Correction. Dennis was the second most humorless man she’d ever known.

      “Well, if it isn’t Reeves Leland.” Twice in an hour’s time. Some day this was turning out to be. She bucked up her smile and tossed off a flippant line. “Playing errand boy for your aunties?”

      “Something like that.” Reeves opened the front of his tan wool overcoat, revealing the expensive suit that clearly marked him as executive material.

      Howard shook his head and turned away, as if to say she’d blundered again. Anna admired Howard. Despite his thickset build, he appeared fit for a man nearing sixty. He and his wife were devoted to one another and led quiet, settled lives, the sort that Anna could never seem to manage. Her parents had died just months after her birth in a drug-fueled automobile accident, leaving her to the oppressive care of her grandmother. Anna had rebelled early against Tansy’s overbearing control, and at twenty-six, she continued to do so.

      “Can I help you?” Dennis asked Reeves, elbowing Anna out of the way as he bellied up to the counter.

      Reeves barely glanced at the big, blustery man. “Thank you, no. I need to speak to Anna Miranda. About my aunts and the BCBC fund-raiser.”

      Trembling inwardly, Anna pulled out her most professional demeanor. Reeves Leland had come to speak with her, and she couldn’t imagine that was good. Please, God, she prayed silently, don’t let him be here to cancel the order. Dennis would blame her for certain. She waved toward her desk around the corner. Whatever Reeves wanted, it was best dealt with in private.

      “Take a seat.”

      She tucked her notepad under one arm and followed. Reeves glanced around at the illustrations pinned to the walls, his expression just shy of forbidding. Be still my foolish heart, she thought. But it was no joke. To her disgust, Reeves Leland, with his sinewy strength, cleft chin and dark hair, still had the power to send her pulse racing.

      Dropping her notebook on the desk, Anna parked her hands at her waist and cut to the chase. “What’s up?”

      Reeves just looked at her before folding himself down onto the thinly padded steel-framed chair beside her utilitarian desk. He made himself comfortable, stretching out his long legs and crossing his ankles. All righty then. She’d play. Pulling out her armless chair, she turned it sideways and sat down, facing him.

      “Okay. First guess. You’re going to pay the print costs for the fund-raiser. Sky’s the limit, right? Oh, joy,” she deadpanned, waving her hands. “My job’s secure.”

      “Is that what you’re trying to do,” he asked, “secure your job at my aunt’s expense?”

      She blinked at that. “Hey. They called us. I didn’t call them.”

      Reeves folded his hands over his belt buckle, appearing СКАЧАТЬ