Mended Hearts. Ruth Herne Logan

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СКАЧАТЬ her, the long library table creating a distance.

      And distance is good, Hannah told herself, settling in. Real good.

      “I love this concept.” A primary school teacher raised Hannah’s overview folder up. “Using the solar system to represent how the branches circle the main library in Wellsville is stellar.”

      A communal groan sounded at her joke. She grinned and turned Hannah’s way. “Did you do this?”

      “Combined effort,” Hannah explained, feeling more like her old self than she’d expected. The realization buoyed her. “The analogy was mine. The graphics were all Jeff’s.”

      “I love it,” declared Helen from her seat midway down the table. “And what’s more, Jonas would have loved it. The artwork embraces all the sciences, and that is the goal of a well-set library. So, Hannah …” Helen shifted her way. “Can you walk us through possible fundraising ideas?”

      “Of course.” Hannah waved toward the far end of the table. “If I can direct your attention beyond Jeff, I’ve got a PowerPoint presentation of ideas, and then we can see how the committee feels about them individually.”

      “Excellent.” Helen’s warm expression went from one end of the table to the other, her enthusiasm obvious. “Financial constraints meant we had to wait much longer than I wanted to get this drive started, and I’ve felt guilty about it. And guilt isn’t one bit fun.”

      It wasn’t. Hannah knew that personally. With all Helen Walker had to do, the idea that one out-of-the-way, dot-on-the-map library meant something … That showed a whole lot of character. And Hannah respected good character.

      “Jenny, adding a booth to next summer’s Balloon Rally would be wonderful,” Jeff assured the town council representative toward the end of the meeting. “And I don’t think it matters that we’ll be beyond our projected fundraising date. Added funds secure future purchases, and libraries can always use help in that regard. Well, then …” Jeff scanned his notes, flipped a few pages and sat back, satisfied. “We did well.”

      “Very well,” Hannah added, looking calmer now that the meeting had ended and nothing had self-destructed. Right until she looked at him, then the cool, flat facade fell into place. But then again he hadn’t exactly been Mr. Friendly when he’d walked in tonight.

      He stood, made small talk, then walked people to the door, feeling Hannah’s eyes watching. Assessing. Probably figuring he was a total fake, pretending interest he didn’t feel. On the plus side, the rain had stopped.

      “Hannah, if you need anything at all, please call me.” Helen gripped the younger woman’s hands in hers. She leaned in just enough to show the sincerity behind her words. “Please.”

      “I will.” Hannah’s smile said Helen’s authenticity bested her grandson’s.

      Helen headed for the door and nodded to Jeff. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

      “I’ll bring coffee,” he promised, then turned back to Hannah, needing to close the evening on a positive note between them. Pinpoints of guilt prickled him for his earlier insensitivity.

      He straightened his notes and his spine, slid his portfolio into his laptop bag and shouldered it before facing her. “I apologize if I was too blunt earlier. I had things on my mind, but I shouldn’t have taken them out on you. Or this project. It was rude.” He was ready to go home and collapse; the successive long days were wearing on him. “Thanks for offering to type up the notes and meeting minutes. If you email them to me once you’ve got them ready, I’ll go over them with Grandma.”

      “Or I can ‘cc’ her a copy and spare you the time,” Hannah suggested.

      “She’ll want to talk it out,” Jeff told her. “She’s very hands-on, as you can see.”

      “Then I’ll forward them and you can proceed from there.”

      She kept her tone cool. Crisp. Concise.

      Just what he wanted, right?

      Except spending time with her last evening had put him in mind of other things. But those thoughts were best buried.

      She’d readopted her business manner and kept her distance, sparing him from looking into those bright blue eyes. The dimmer lights by the library door kept him from seeing the sprinkle of freckles, or noting the long lashes, their shadow a curve against her tanned cheek. Obviously she hadn’t read all the current warnings about skin and sunscreen, because her softly bronzed face and arms said she wasn’t afraid to be in the sun.

      He gave a quick wave as he went through the door, deciding not to linger with uncomfortable goodbyes.

      She’d email him, he’d email her, they’d push forward.

      Perfect.

      But it felt much less than that.

      Dismissed.

      Hannah watched him go and was tempted to throw something. Standing in a room full of books, her choices were numerous. But she couldn’t throw books. She loved books. Loved learning. Knowledge. Sharing that love with others, children and young adults.

      At least she had loved it until circumstances blindsided her, stealing her livelihood, her heart and a share of her soul. Melancholy threatened, but she pushed it aside, determined to stay in the here and now.

      She didn’t like being shrugged off by the electronics wizard as if she were some ordinary business partner.

      Which she was.

      Or some underling who depended on him for her livelihood.

      Which she did. Kind of. Since his grandmother was head of the library council and approved her hiring three years back.

      But the fact that he made her feel like that was aggravating. Exasperating. She shut off the lights of the tiny house, set the lock and headed for her car. Usually she walked from her apartment to the Jamison Farmers Free Library, but she’d known she’d be late tonight, probably tired, and rain was in the forecast, so she’d driven over. She’d get home, sit down, hammer out these notes, email them to Jeff and be done with things until the various committee members got back to her with their plans. Then she’d compile them into a semblance of order, send them on to Jeff and move to step two for next week’s meeting.

      Easy.

      She fumbled in her pocket for her set of keys and stopped, chagrined.

      Not there.

      She tried again, then groped for a nonexistent purse.

      Nope, she’d left that home on purpose, wanting to be unencumbered.

      No keys.

      Either she left them inside …

      Or she’d locked them in the car.

      She went over to the car, pressed her nose to the glass and tried to scan the interior.

      No luck. Darkness had fallen hours ago, the fall equinox behind them. The one lone dusk-to-dawn light was set СКАЧАТЬ