Loving the Lawman. Ruth Logan Herne
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Название: Loving the Lawman

Автор: Ruth Logan Herne

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Короткие любовные романы

Серия: Mills & Boon Love Inspired

isbn: 9781472072351

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ knew that, hence the complete change in her life. Decisions she’d made before her mother and aunt left to spend the cold, long months of an upstate winter in Florida. By the time they came back north...

      She shoved that thought aside and smiled up at Seth. “I’ll have the moving van pull around to the apartment door and unload my things. You have keys for me?”

      “Right here.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out two sets. “I keep a master set for myself, so if you ever lock yourself out, I’m just across the street on Overlook Drive.” He pointed through the window. “The white house with the porch on the double lot.”

      “A perfect family home.” She smiled at the view and could just imagine a crew of kids racing around the wide, sloped front yard playing tag. Climbing the trees that were to the left.

      Seth’s smile disappeared. His shoulders looked suddenly heavy, and she had the oddest urge to wrap her arms around the big guy and give him a hug. But with her behavior labeled strange if not crazy these past few years, she curbed the impulse. Life had a way of messing people over. She knew that. Lived it. But right here, right now, was the new beginning she’d grabbed hold of a few months back. Months of praying, planning and implementation would come to fruition in Kirkwood, New York, overlooking the lake of the same name. Here she would embrace the life taken from her. The peace and hope of a new day dawning. She’d have the winter to settle in, and by the time the busy season rolled around after an early-April Easter, she’d be facing a new reality.

      Would her mother understand? Would she embrace and forgive, or rage on in a mix of Italian and English and then cook pasta for the multitudes of Bianchis?

      Time would tell.

      Gianna followed Seth down the open stairs. He turned at the door. “Do you have help to unload?”

      “I do.” She pointed to the road, where a yellow moving van had pulled up. “My cousin and brother are my slaves for the moment. I promised them food to help me. They’re Italian men so it really doesn’t take much more than that.”

      “That works well on us Scottish guys, too,” Seth admitted with a grin. She absolutely, positively refused to label his smile endearing or sweet. A smile was just a smile. Right?

      One look up at him told her how wrong she was. Time to change the direction of her gaze. She turned and swung open the door to the small side porch. “The fact that I’m taking Gram off their hands sweetened the deal. Italian women are bossy by nature—something that doesn’t appear to wane with age.”

      Seth laughed, understanding, while Gianna looked around the quiet, snow-filled, lakeside town. “She’s going to love it here. I could see that the minute we rolled into town. For Grandma, this is like coming home.”

      Seth nodded agreement. “My grandma loved living in Kirkwood. It was her place, her town. Her history, she called it. Will your grandmother miss your old place?”

      Gianna shook her head. “Not if there’s a sewing machine handy. I get my affection for old things from her. She taught me to sew when I was barely old enough to thread a needle, and I loved it. So this venture into my own brick-and-mortar business is a big step for both of us, but I’m pretty sure she’ll be content. I know I will.”

      “Well, good.” He shoved his hands into his pockets as two dark-haired young men headed their way. “You guys need help?”

      The taller one eyed the freshly shoveled driveway and shook his head. “I think we can back her up right here and unload to this porch. That way we can keep the snow and wet out of the house.”

      “I agree.” The shorter man stuck out a hand to Seth. “I’m Mauro, Gianna’s cousin.”

      Seth shook Mauro’s hand and turned toward the taller man. “That makes you the brother.”

      “Joe Rinaldi. Nice to meet you. You’re the landlord?”

      “Seth Campbell. I live over there.” Seth indicated his house with a general wave across the street. “If there’s anything your sister or grandmother need, I’m nearby.”

      “Good to hear since her entire family and support network will be over five hours away, in good driving conditions. With the exception of my seventysomething grandmother.” Joe’s tone scolded, but Gianna knew he meant well. Protecting her had become the order of the day after she had lost Michael.

      You didn’t lose him. He was taken from you. Stolen, in the dark of night. One simple moment of time, a twist of fate, and your life turned upside down.

      It had, but she was determined to get her life back, with or without Bianchi approval. And about time, too. “Joe, really?” Gianna motioned to the truck. “Gram can outwork all of us, so it’s great to have her on board with this new venture. Back the truck in here and let’s get this done. We are not having this conversation again.”

      “That’s because you don’t have to deal with the multitudes of relatives on both sides,” he called over his shoulder as he and Mauro headed back to the street. “But I’ll run interference for you. It’s what brothers do.”

      Seth turned, arched a brow, and the look on his face said she’d just become more interesting. “You ran away from home, Gianna?”

      She laughed and shrugged as she stepped back inside. “In a manner of speaking. My family is American by birth but old-world Italian by nature. They like their ducklings to stay close to the nest, marry other Italians and raise a bunch of cute Italian babies within five minutes of the family home. I’m bucking the trend.” She let her smile include the old-fashioned setting surrounding them. “But they’ll all be okay with it once I’m here and settled. The idea that I’m making a move like this while they’re in Florida is giving my mother and aunt agita.”

      “Heart palpitations.”

      She tipped her face up to him as he moved to the door. “You’re not Italian.”

      “No, but I’ve got buddies who’ve caused their mothers a little agita now and again. I get it.”

      She nodded as she held the door open. “They know we’re moving here, but I didn’t exactly do this with a nod of approval, if you know what I mean. By the time they come back north, Gram and I will be settled in. We’ll be sewing up a storm of vintage-looking clothing for retail and special orders, we’ll have the gently used clothing part of the store set up for business and all will be well with the world.”

      “Spring is a wonderful thing around here.” Seth jutted his chin across the lamplit village road as he stepped outside. “Remember—I’m right over there if you need anything.”

      “I won’t forget,” she promised. She watched him walk up the slick black asphalt and thought how solid and safe he looked. Square shouldered, light eyed, brown hair cut short, flat on top, a don’t-mess-with-me set to his jaw, his gaze. But when he smiled or laughed, his joy welcomed like a big, old hug.

      And it was nice to know he lived close by. She’d mentioned that her mother was protective, but that was like calling a Category 4 hurricane a minor storm. She’d stretched the truth by minimizing her family’s love and care. She had to, because she’d taken other steps without her family’s knowledge, choosing a path that couldn’t be backtracked.

      If Sofia Bianchi—her mother—knew СКАЧАТЬ