The Prodigal Comes Home. Kathryn Springer

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СКАЧАТЬ drained from Liz’s face again and Matt put a protective hand on her arm. “Liz? Are you all right?”

      “I’m more than all right.” Gran took a deep breath and patted his hand before turning a smile on Zoey that warmed her from the inside out. “I’d love for you to stay with me, sweetheart. And you are welcome for as long as you’d like.”

      Chapter Three

      That was it?

      No questions?

      Because Matt had a truckload of them, even if Liz didn’t.

      Judging from the interaction he’d witnessed between the two women, it was clear they hadn’t seen each other in quite a while. And it didn’t take a trained counselor—which Matt happened to be—to figure out that some of Zoey’s tension seemed to stem from her uncertainty over how she would be received.

      But that didn’t make sense, either. Liz was known for her hospitality. She was the kind of woman who encouraged people to drop in without an invitation.

      “Matthew?” Liz turned to him. “Do you have time to help Zoey carry her things in?”

      Before he could reply, Zoey surged to her feet. “That’s okay, Gran, I don’t need his help. I don’t have much. Just some clothes.”

      And apparently she didn’t want Liz to know those clothes were piled on the backseat of her vehicle.

      A frown deepened the row of pleats across Liz’s forehead. “Are you sure?”

      “Yes. And I’m sure that…Pastor Wilde has other things to do instead of play bellhop.”

      To her nonexistent luggage, Matt thought.

      Their eyes met. Hers begged him not to say the words out loud.

      “I do have an appointment at nine.” Matt took his cue and stood up. “I’m sure you two ladies have a lot of catching up to do.”

      “We do at that, don’t we, Zoey?” Liz beamed. “I’ll have a fresh pot of coffee on by the time you get settled.”

      “Gran, please.” Zoey bit down on her lower lip. “I didn’t come here so you could fuss over me. I came to fuss over you, remember?”

      Liz closed her eyes, as if savoring something sweet. “I like the sound of that.”

      “Really?” Matt lifted a skeptical brow. “You might like the ‘sound’ of it and yet you fight it all the way.”

      “That’s not completely true,” Liz protested.

      Matt looked at Zoey. “You did catch the word ‘completely,’ didn’t you?”

      Zoey’s lips curved in a brief, tentative smile that had the power to derail his initial reservations like a runaway freight train.

      “You can stay in your old bedroom, Zoey,” Liz went on. “I’m afraid, though, that it looks exactly the same way as it did when you left.”

      Your old bedroom?

      Matt tried to hide his astonishment. The comment made it sound as if the arrangement had been permanent at one time.

      Which made it even more unbelievable that Liz had never mentioned a granddaughter.

      “I could stay in the carriage house,” Zoey ventured. “That way, I won’t be underfoot but I’ll still be close by if you need me.”

      Liz waved her hand in the air, brushing away the comment the way she would a pesky fly. “What I need is a little noise in this drafty old house. There’s plenty of room for the two of us.”

      “But…”

      “And the carriage house isn’t available,” Liz interrupted.

      “Oh.” Zoey looked confused. “I thought maybe you and grandpa had gone ahead with your original plan to convert it into an apartment.”

      “Oh, we did,” Liz said cheerfully. “That’s why it isn’t available. Matthew lives there now.”

      Zoey’s gaze flew to his face. Matt expected to see dismay or even resentment in her eyes. All he saw was a resigned acceptance that had him struggling against a sudden urge to apologize.

      He turned to Liz instead. “I’ll come by later this afternoon,” he promised. “And by the way, Kate said to remind you that tomorrow is pecan pie day, so she’s going to stop over and drop off a piece.”

      “That’s wonderful. Zoey and I will have to share.” Liz lifted her face and Matt dutifully pressed a kiss against the weathered cheek.

      “I’ll be right back, Gran.” Zoey started toward the door, then paused to level a stern look in her grandmother’s direction. “Promise me that you won’t lift a finger to do anything until I get back. I’ll put a fresh pot of coffee on.”

      Liz sighed. “I promise.”

      Matt had sensed that Liz was beginning to tire but hadn’t expected Zoey to notice. The fact that she had—and also that she knew her grandmother didn’t like to sit still—put some of his concerns to rest.

      Liz seemed genuinely thrilled that her granddaughter had shown up out of the blue.

      Matt was happy for her, too, but that wasn’t going to stop him from finding out just who Zoey Decker was.

      And the real reason she’d come to Mirror Lake.

      Up until the moment Gran had embraced her, Zoey had half-expected to be turned away, the way she had once pushed her grandparents away, declaring that she didn’t need them.

      But Gran had immediately put her fears to rest, with no hint of resentment or censure in her eyes.

      Zoey had a long way to go to make amends, but at least Gran was willing to give her a chance.

      “Here. This might help.”

      A cardboard box was deposited at her feet next to the Jeep. Zoey didn’t have to turn around to know who was there. The breeze carried the faint scent of Matt’s cologne, a clean, masculine scent that had, along with his smile, remained stubbornly lodged in her memory.

      “Thank you.” Zoey dropped an armful of jeans into the box, inwardly chiding herself for not taking the time to retrieve her suitcase from her landlord’s storage unit.

      A pink kneesock decorated with winged musical notes tumbled to the ground, but before Zoey could swoop down and retrieve it, Matt got there first.

      “Here you go.”

      She plucked it from his hand.

      Was there no end to the man’s charity? Zoey wondered.

      There will be. Just wait.

      The thought almost made her drop the Bible she’d wrapped in a stack of T-shirts.

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