A Family for Christmas. Winnie Griggs
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      “How’s the library business these days?” he asked casually.

      Abigail immediately became more animated. “Very good. I signed another subscriber yesterday and I’m planning to purchase several new titles right after Christmas.” She sighed dramatically. “I miss having Constance partnering with me, but she absolutely loves her new job assisting Mr. Flaherty at the apothecary shop.”

      Chance nodded. “Mr. Flaherty seems pleased with the job she’s doing.” He glanced Eve’s way, waiting for her to speak up. But when she didn’t jump into the conversational opening, he decided to be more direct. “Speaking of your library, Miss Pickering here is interested in taking a look at your selection of books.”

      He sensed her stiffening without even looking her way. Didn’t she know he was trying to help?

      But Abigail apparently noticed nothing amiss. “Of course.” The girl gave Eve a big smile. “I’d be glad to loan you a book, free of charge. Sort of a welcome-to-town gift, for you to read while you’re here.”

      His companion shook her head, though this time there was nothing firm about the gesture. “That’s very kind, but I don’t want to take advantage—”

      “Not at all.” Abigail lowered her voice, as if sharing a secret. “Besides, it’s good advertisement if folks see people borrowing my books.” She waved toward the bookshelves. “Feel free to look over what’s available while I clear these dishes.”

      Chance could see Eve’s resolve wavering as she stared longingly at the bookshelves. Deciding she needed another nudge, he stood and pulled her chair out for her. Pitching his voice so only she could hear, he whispered, “It would be an insult for you to refuse Abigail’s offer.”

      She gave him a doubtful look. “I certainly wouldn’t want to offer her any insult.” She glanced again toward the shelves. “Perhaps I’ll go over and just take a look.”

      He watched her cross the room and then slowly, almost reverently, run her fingers along the rows of books, taking her time studying the various titles. What kind of book would she select? Would her prim and proper side win out and have her select a volume of dry essays or sermons? Or would her more daring side win out and point her to some more entertaining work of fiction?

      She pulled out a book and smiled as she silently read a passage. Suddenly, that familiar kick of jealousy tinged with shame twisted his gut and he turned away.

      “Why is she so excited about a bunch of books?” Leo asked, wrinkling his nose.

      Chance pushed his ugly emotions aside and smiled down at the boy. “You’d be surprised how many people enjoy reading,” he answered. “There are a lot of adventures to be found between the pages of a good book.” Some of his favorite memories were of his mother reading to him as a boy.

      “Adventures?” That had obviously grabbed his attention.

      Did the boy know how to read? If his story was true, he likely hadn’t seen the inside of a schoolroom since he was eight years old, if at all. Maybe he should have a talk with Mitch about how to get Leo prepared for returning to the classroom eventually.

      Then Chance pulled himself up short. He wasn’t the kid’s father and he certainly wasn’t planning to make this little diversion a long-term commitment. He had too many problems of his own right now. Once the boy’s guilt or innocence was determined, there would be decisions to be made about him, decisions that, one way or the other, would relieve Chance of any future responsibility.

      With the unexpected visit from his father looming, he’d have plenty of other issues to deal with during the next few weeks.

      Chance glanced toward Eve, who was still studying the bookshelves with single-minded focus. Did she realize she’d have to hand over Leo to someone else soon? Unless she intended to adopt the boy, which didn’t seem likely given what little she’d revealed about her circumstances. Just how deep did her attachment go? Would she walk away gracefully and let the authorities do what must be done?

      She finally plucked a book from the shelves and turned to rejoin them. Pausing at the desk, she dutifully wrote in the ledger, apparently following the directions the trusting Abigail had posted.

      “What did you select?” he asked when she returned.

      She held up a small book bound in leather with dark red lettering on the front. To his relief, she also described her selection. “It’s a book of poetry.”

      Well now, wasn’t that an unexpected and interesting choice?

      So she did have a less straight-laced, more romantic side to her, even if it was buried a bit deep.

      Yep, the next few days could prove interesting indeed.

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