Baby, Come Home. Stephanie Bond
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Название: Baby, Come Home
Автор: Stephanie Bond
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Вестерны
isbn: 9781408968710
isbn:
Baby. Kendall used to call her baby, Amy recalled. She darted a look at him, but when she saw he was looking at her, she glanced all around, settling on the ceiling. “Nice trusses,” she offered. “Is this a modular building?”
Kendall nodded. “The clinic, too. And the General Store. We used reclaimed materials for siding on all the buildings except the clinic.”
“I could tell,” Amy said. “Are you planning to incorporate any reclaimed materials in the covered bridge?”
“We’ve been putting aside any boards we find that might’ve been used in the original bridge in the Lost and Found warehouse.”
She nodded. “I read on the website about the place where you’re storing things you find so former residents can claim them.”
“You’re welcome to walk through the warehouse,” Kendall said, “or look over the lists to see if you recognize anything that might’ve belonged to your family.”
She shook her head. “Thanks, but there’s nothing from here that I want.” When she realized how brusque she sounded, she conjured up a little smile. “But I’d like to see the materials you have set aside for the bridge.”
“I seem to remember the two of you hanging out at the bridge a lot,” Porter offered.
Amy swung her head to stare at him and felt Kendall’s gaze follow hers. Porter looked back and forth between them, his expression innocent as he handed each of them a glass of red wine. “Oh, so we’re not supposed to talk about the elephant in the room?”
“What elephant in the room?” Nikki asked, returning.
“Amy and Kendall used to be a hot item,” Porter said nonchalantly, then handed her a glass of wine.
Nikki’s mouth rounded and she shot Amy an apologetic glance.
“It was a long time ago,” Amy said quickly.
“To old times,” Kendall said, lifting his glass, “and to building bridges.”
She couldn’t very well decline the toast, Amy thought wryly, lifting her glass to clink with the others. The bandage on Kendall’s thumb reminded her of his “favor” for Rachel Hutchins, and she took a deeper drink than she’d meant to.
Kendall looked at her over the rim of his glass, his expression soft and blurred. Was he thinking of graduation night, when they’d snuck a bottle of cheap zinfandel to the bridge and sat on the edge with legs dangling, drinking it from paper cups? It had made them tipsy and giggly and Kendall had made promises about all the adventures they’d have together. Afterward, they’d made such sweet love… It was the last really good memory she had of them together.
Days later, he’d left to join the Air Force while she’d been tethered to Sweetness to take care of the sickly aunt who’d taken her in. Amy’s loneliness had been exacerbated by her aunt’s bitterness and the nagging sense that she was missing out on the life she was meant to have. But when her aunt had passed away a scant few weeks later, Amy had been besieged with guilt, yet eager to leave. When Kendall had come home for the funeral, he’d backpedaled on the promises he’d made. He’d told Amy they shouldn’t be in such a rush to get married, that she should take some correspondence courses and that he’d be back for her. Heartbroken, she’d packed a bag and left Sweetness to strike out on her own.
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