Читать книгу Heaven Sent - Jillian Hart - Страница 8

Hope Ashton. Matthew couldn’t get her out of his mind. Not when he’d gone to sleep and not now that the first pink light of morning was teasing the darkness from the sky.

He hadn’t recognized her at first glance. She’d softened, grown taller, changed from girl to woman. But that graceful elegance was still there in the fall of her dark hair, in the rich timbre of her alto voice and in every lithe, careful movement she made.

The phone rang, and he turned from the kitchen sink, nearly tripping over a little boy who wasn’t quite as tall as his knee. “Whoa, there, Josh. Look where you’re going.”

The little boy tilted his head all the way back. “Goin’ to Gramma’s?”

“Almost.” He wove around an identical little boy. “Ian, stop eyeing the cookie jar.”

“I still hungry, Daddy.”

“Hungry? You ate four whole pancakes.” He ruffled the boy’s dark hair and intentionally turned him away from the counter as the phone continued to ring.

He dodged another identical little boy and snatched up the receiver.

“Matthew? I got your message.” It was Zach from the garage. “Got the belt you asked for right here. What happened? That truck of yours leave you stranded?”

“You wish.”

“Hey, I’m thinking of my profits,” the only mechanic in town teased.

“Nothing like that. I came across Hope Ashton last night, broke down in the middle of that storm. You remember her, don’t you?”

There was a moment of silence, then Zach gasped. “Tall, slender, pretty. Nora’s granddaughter. Sure, I remember. Is she back in town? Why don’t I run the belt out to the Greenley place—”

“Her Jeep’s broken down on the highway south of town.”

“Then I’ll warm up the tow truck and bring it in.”

“You can’t miss it. Bright red, brand-new model about four miles out.” Matthew felt his stomach tighten, as if he didn’t like the idea of Zach giving Hope a hand and he couldn’t explain why. Maybe it was his conscience.

Sure, the woman troubled him, stirred up all sorts of emotions. He knew he was out of her league—which wasn’t why he wanted to help. It didn’t sit right backing away now. He liked to see things to the end.

Matthew heard silence and peeked around the doorway into the kitchen. “Ian, stay away from the counter. Go put on your shoes like your brothers.”

The little urchin hesitated, tossed him an innocent grin, then dashed away to join his brothers at the table. Matthew headed down the center hallway and to the front door, careful to keep an eye and an ear on his sons.

“Hope Ashton, huh?” Zach laughed at that. “It’ll be something to see her again. I bet she’s still a knockout.”

“Yep.” She was pretty, all right. Model-good looks but there was a girl-next-door freshness to her. A freshness he didn’t remember seeing in the unhappy rich girl he’d gone to school with.

Matthew ended the call, checked on the three boys busily pulling on shoes in the corner of the kitchen and went in search of his work boots. He sat down on the bottom step to tug them on.

Morning was his favorite time as the sun rose, so bold and bright. The world was waking up, the birds’ songs brand-new and the breeze as soft as a whisper. Peace filled him for a moment, and then he heard a loud crash coming from directly behind him—the kitchen.

That was his two seconds of peace for the day. He took off at a dead run. Six strides took him into the kitchen where he saw his three sons standing in a half circle.

“Josh did it, Daddy!” Kale pointed. “He climbed up on the chair and dropped the cookies.”

“They smashed all over the floor!” Ian looked pleased.

Josh’s head was bowed, his hands clasped together as he whispered a prayer.

Matthew saw the shattered cookies and stoneware littered all over the clean floor and the pitcher of grape juice at Ian’s feet. The refrigerator door stood open and a chair from the table was butted up against the cabinets. He remembered to count to ten.

“We got real hungry.” Ian rubbed at a juice stain on his crisp white T-shirt.

“Real hungry,” Kale added.

Josh took one look at the floor and bowed his head again. “The cookie jar’s still broken, God.”

Since he was short on time, Matthew decided to ignore for now the purple stains splattered on his kitchen floor, nudged the refrigerator door shut and grabbed the broom from the corner. “You boys step back. Careful of those sharp pieces.”

“Daddy, it’s all Josh’s fault.” Ian tugged on Matthew’s jeans, transferring the grape juice from those little fingers onto the clean denim above Matthew’s knee.

“Somehow I doubt Josh did this all by himself.” He laid his hand against the flat of Ian’s back and eased him away from the broken stoneware shards. “Any owies I should know about?”

“There ain’t no blood nowhere,” Ian announced.

But there was grape juice spattered all over the little boy who’d obviously been the one to try to heft the full pitcher from the refrigerator shelf and failed.

One thing was clear. He couldn’t go on like this. He needed a new housekeeper or he’d never get off to work on time. “Into the truck. C’mon. Step around the mess, Ian.”

“Sorry, Daddy.” The oldest triplet looked angelic as he stopped his sneaker in midair, about to crunch right through the cookies and shattered pottery.

He caught Ian by the shoulder, Kale by the arm and was grateful for Josh who clambered after them, muttering an amen to end his prayer. The mess would wait. The boys would have to change at Mom’s.

Lord knew, this was all a balancing act. Every morning wasn’t as bad as this, but then he was used to having a housekeeper. With three three-year-olds, it made a big difference having another adult to run interference.

Matthew locked the door and herded the boys toward the black pickup in the gravel drive. He opened the door, and the scent of Hope Ashton’s perfume—light and pretty—lingered, a faint reminder that she’d sat beside him on the ride to town. Longing swept through him. Not for Hope, but for a woman gone from his life forever.

It had been over two long years since he’d smelled the pleasing gentleness of a woman’s perfume in his truck. Two years had passed since he’d buried Kathy, and he still wasn’t over his grief.

And how could he? There would never be another woman who would make his heart brighter, his life better.

Kathy had been his once-in-a-lifetime, a gift of love that a man was lucky to know at all. Something that miraculous didn’t happen twice.

It just didn’t.

Chest tight, he buckled Josh into the remaining car seat and hopped into the cab.

“I’m so glad I have the committee meeting today,” Nanna announced as the new day’s sun tossed a cheerful pattern across the quilt. “I’ll take any excuse I can to get out of this house.”

“I thought you were supposed to be on bed rest. How are we going to get you to town if your doctor’s orders are to keep you right here?” Hope slid open the closet door.

“We could always drive. It’s easier than hobbling. I’m still not used to those crutches.”

“Very funny.” Hope pulled out a blue summer dress. “This would look nice. Before I take you anywhere, I’m checking with your doctor.”

“You worry too much, and I want the yellow dress. The flirty one.”

“Flirty? You’re in your sixties. You shouldn’t be flirting.”

“That’s what you think.” Nanna’s chuckle was a merry one. “Howard Renton joined the planning committee last month. Both Sadie and Helen made fools of themselves fighting to sit next to him. But I think I won him with my charm.”

“Wear the yellow but don’t flirt. Too much.” Hope laid the cheerful sundress on the foot of the bed. “Isn’t that what you used to tell me?”

“Hope, you’re twenty-nine years old. You’re supposed to be flirting.”

“I’m supposed to, huh? Is there some unwritten law or something?”

“Go ahead and pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. You’re going to let the best years of your life slip away alone without a man to love you.”

“I didn’t fly all the way from Rome and drive down from the closest airport through a terrible storm to hear that kind of advice.”

“Well, then what kind do you want to hear?”

“The kind that doesn’t have anything to do with getting me married off.” Hope unzipped the dress and lifted it from the hanger. “‘God gives to some the gift of marriage, and to others he gives the gift of singleness.’”

“‘And the Lord God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a companion who will help him.”’” Nanna lifted her arms as Hope slipped the dress over her head. “It’s not good for a woman to be alone, either.”

“So, the person who marries does well, and the person who doesn’t marry does even better.” Hope smoothed the dress over her grandmother’s back. “I think I’ve proven my point.”

“You’ve proven nothing. Love is one of God’s greatest gifts. Don’t let your life pass you by without knowing it.” Nanna’s hand brushed hers with warmth. “Goodness, this dress makes me feel young. Fix my hair for me.”

“Do you want it up or down?”

Nanna squinted into the mirror against the far wall. “Down.”

Hope reached for the brush and started working. “Tell me more about this man you and your friends are fighting over.”

“He’s moved back to town after being away for what, nearly twenty years. He wanted to be close to what remains of his family. Sad, it is. You didn’t hear about the tragedy, did you? Lost his son, daughter-in-law and two of his grandchildren in a small plane crash a few years back. In fact, one of the grandchildren was Matthew Sheridan’s wife.”

The brush slipped from her fingers. “I didn’t know.”

“Lucky thing, one of the boys got sick right before the plane took off, so she left the children with Matthew. He was devastated. It shook all of us to the core, I tell you. We lost a lot of friends that day.”

Matthew lost his wife and the mother of his children. Her chest tightened. She remembered how he’d seen her safely home last night. And remembered the loneliness in his eyes. “It’s strange to be here after being gone for so many years. All the people I know are much older now. So much has happened to them.”

“And your classmates grown up and married.” Nanna’s eyes sparkled. “Everyone except you.”

“Surely not everyone’s married. There has to be a few people in this town as smart as I am.” She winked at Nanna’s reflection in the big, beveled mirror.

“You mean as misguided. I think your old friend Karen McKaslin isn’t married yet. Now, don’t get your hopes up. Her wedding is scheduled for sometime this fall.”

“A mistake.” Hope shook her head. “I’ll have to give her a call and see if I can’t wisen her up.”

Nanna laughed. “Tease all you want. You never know when the lovebug will bite.”

“Lovebug?” Hope reached for a headband on the edge of the nightstand. “If love is a bug, then all I need is a good can of pesticide.”

“Really, Hope. You’re impossible.” Nanna’s hand caught hers, warm and accepting, as always. “And no, I won’t change your mind. I’ll let God do that.”

“What’s He gonna do? Send a lovebug?”

“You never know. There are a few handsome men in this town looking for the right woman to share their lives with.”

“Oh, there are men, all right, but I don’t think marriage is what they’re looking for.”

“Then you’ve been living in all the wrong places.” Nanna winked, then caught her reflection in the mirror. “Oh, Hope. Why, this is wonderful. I hardly recognize myself.”

“You look beautiful, Nanna.” Hope brushed her hand gently over a few stray wisps, guiding them into place. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“My day nurse Kirby is taking care of that.”

“Well, she has enough to do taking care of you.”

“Yes, but the real question is, can you cook?” Nanna looked terribly skeptical. “I know how you live, always traveling—”

“That’s because I’m always working.”

“If you had a husband and a family, you would have more to do with your time than work.” Nanna pressed a kiss to Hope’s cheek, one of comfort and love. “Go ahead, make breakfast. I’m a brave woman with good digestion.”

“I’m not going to poison you.”

“And be careful of the sink handle. It’s been leaking something fierce. And that right front stove burner is wobbly. I mean to talk to someone in town about it today.”

“Have a little faith, Nanna. I’m all grown up. I think I can figure out a faucet handle and an ancient stove.”

“‘Pride goes before destruction, and haughtiness before a fall.’”

“Relax.” Hope helped Nanna lean back into her pillows, then reached for the quilt to cover her. “I’m not going to burn down the kitchen.”

“You almost did once, you know.”

“I was seventeen years old.” Hope pressed a kiss to Nanna’s brow. How fast time passed. And it was passing faster every day. “You get some rest, and I’ll be right back with some scrambled eggs.”

“Now this I have to see,” Nanna mused.

Hope pulled the door closed and hurried downstairs, her heart heavy. Nanna was wrong, she didn’t need the pain of marriage. She’d watched her parents up close and personal, and she’d sworn never to live like that. Ever.

Even now, remembering, her stomach tensed and she laid her hand there. The ulcer still bothered her from time to time. Usually whenever she thought about her family.

Yes, singleness was one gift from the Lord she intended to cherish for the rest of her life.

“Matthew, you have to take my place on the Founder’s Days planning committee. I can’t do everything.” Matthew’s mother herded three little boys into her living room. Building blocks clattered and sounds of glee filled the air. “I don’t mind keeping the triplets over the summer, you know that. But these three are a lot to keep up to. You’re going to have to do some things for me.”

“The committee meetings are during the day, and you know I can’t take off work. I’ve got a roof to put on the McKaslins’ hay barn—”

“You can work it out. You’re self-employed.” Mom pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Tell you what, I’ll sweeten the deal. I’ll keep the boys past supper every night if you’ll take over this one tiny, little obligation for me.”

“I’m a carpenter. I don’t know the first thing about committees.”

“Nonsense, a smart man like you. The meeting is this morning, from ten-thirty to eleven-thirty at Karen’s little coffee shop. Oh, those boys are a busy bunch, aren’t they?” Mom took off at a run. “Ian, don’t climb up the fireplace. No, not even if you’re a fireman.”

There was a twinkle in her eye. The planning committee, as far as he knew, consisted of the town’s oldest citizens.

If Mom wasn’t playing matchmaker, she was still up to something. If only he knew what.

Manhattan, Montana crept into sight around the last bend. Hope hadn’t seen this place since she was seventeen. Last night, when she’d driven through with Matthew, it had been dark and late, the streets deserted.

In the light of day, she saw that much was different from what she remembered. Businesses had changed hands, new stores had come in, but the character and the small-town feel remained.

It was the closest thing to home she’d known in her entire life.

“It’s good to be back, isn’t it?” Why did Nanna sound triumphant? “I always knew you belonged here, Hope, and not in your parents’ world.”

“What does that mean, exactly?” Hope braked as an elderly man jaywalked leisurely across the wide, two-lane street.

“It means you’re the kind of person who needs roots, like me. To plant them deep and watch your life grow.” Nanna tapped her fingers against the dash. “Turn here. Right there in front of the blue shop.”

Hope eased Nanna’s old sedan into a parking spot. The hand-painted sign on the row of shops read Field of Beans. “I’m not a tree. I don’t have roots.”

“You know darn well what I mean, you’re being stubborn.” Nanna opened her door. “Kirby, dear, bring those crutches. I can handle the steps by myself.”

Hope saw the nurse’s exasperated look in the rearview. “Don’t tell me she’s always like this?”

“Usually she’s worse.” The young nurse hopped out of the car, hurrying to help.

Hope listened to her grandmother issue orders to Kirby as she situated the crutches beneath her arms. Nanna might be injured, but her spirit remained unscathed. Hope stepped out into the fresh spring morning to lend Kirby a hand.

Already the sun was hot, and dust mixed in the air. She smelled freshly ground coffee and baking muffins. “Nanna, is there anything you want from the store?”

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Nanna wobbled to a stop. “You’re coming to the meeting with me. You can do your errands-running later.”

“But you have Kirby—”

“Kirby has to go fill some prescriptions for me.”

“I have to run over to Zach’s garage and rescue my Jeep. Then I have to grocery shop.” Hope took hold of her grandmother’s fragile elbow. “Don’t worry, I’ll help Kirby get you inside—”

“Look, there’s Matthew Sheridan crossing the street.” Nanna took a stronger step. “It looks like he’s heading for Karen’s coffee place, too. Good. I’ve been needing to speak with him.”

“What you need to do is concentrate or you’re going to fall off those things. Maybe we should get the wheelchair from the trunk—”

“Don’t you dare. There’s only three stairs, and I’m starting to get the hang of these crutches.” Nanna hobbled forward, then stopped in the middle of the first board step. “Why, Matthew. The man I’ve been looking for.”

“Me?” He strolled to a stop on the sidewalk above, his face shaded by the brim of his Stetson. “Nora Greenley. I can’t believe you’re up and around.”

“It’s hard to keep an old warhorse down,” Nanna quipped as her fingers caught Hope’s sleeve. “Matthew, I have a terrible problem up at the house. Now, I could have called the McKaslin boy, but I hear you’re a better carpenter. I need some work done on my kitchen.”

“I’d be happy to come take a look.” He held out his hand, palm up. It was a strong hand with calluses thick on his sun-browned skin. “Do you need help up these stairs?”

“I can handle the stairs. You talk a minute with my granddaughter and find a time she can show you the kitchen.” Nanna was suddenly busy crutching up the steps and avoiding Matthew’s gaze. “Hope, be a dear and handle this for me.”

“You know I can’t say no to you, Nanna.” But Hope did feel suspicion burn in her heart. What was her grandmother up to?

“Kirby will see me in, dear. Just make sure you come and join me. If I need help, I’d hate to interrupt the meeting. You understand.”

“I understand.” Was that a twinkle in the older woman’s eye? Nanna knew better than to try to fix her up with poor Matthew Sheridan, didn’t she? “Try to behave until I get in there, Nanna.”

“You know me.” Her crutches creaked against the board walkway.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Hope’s chest felt tight watching the frail lady ease her way over the threshold and into the café, as determined as an Olympic athlete.

Matthew leaned against the wooden rail. “Looks like Nora’s keeping you busy.”

“Busy? I’m running like a madwoman. It’s not even lunchtime and she’s exhausted me.” Hope couldn’t quite meet his gaze. She remembered what Nanna had said about his wife’s death. She remembered the loneliness in his eyes. “I guess she wants some work done on her stove and sink.”

“Well, I don’t pretend to be the best in town when it comes to appliances, but I can take a look at that sink.” Matthew splayed both hands on the weathered rail. “I’m roofing the McKaslins’ barn this week. I can drop by, say, Monday morning, if that’s no problem.”

“That will be soon enough, I’m sure. I didn’t notice any leak when I washed the dishes this morning. I have this funny feeling there’s no real hurry. I think Nanna wanted to try to get the two of us together.”

“I had that feeling, too.” He shrugged one shoulder uneasily, looking off down the street. “Did Zach get your Jeep fixed?”

“It’s repaired and waiting for me. Thanks again for helping me out. It would have been a long miserable walk.”

“No problem.” He tipped his hat, a polite gesture. “Well, I better get going. Don’t want to be late for my first committee meeting.”

“You’re on the planning committee?”

“My mom talked me into it this morning. She extorted me, is more like it.” A wry grin touched his mouth as he took a step toward the open door. “She’s taking care of my sons, so I’m in a bind and she knows it. It’s a shame when you can’t trust your own mother.”

“Or grandmother.” Hope hated that she had to follow him toward the gaping door. A bad feeling settled hard in her stomach, the kind that foretold disaster.

“What does that mean?” he asked. Sunlight brushed him with a golden glow, highlighting the wary slant to his eyes. The wry grin faded from his mouth. “You don’t think my mom and your grandmother—”

“I sure hope not, but at this point do we give them the benefit of the doubt?”

“I don’t know, my mom’s been kind of sneaky lately.” Matthew shook his head. “And obviously off her rocker. She knows you’re only visiting. Maybe it’s coincidence.”

“Let’s hope so, or my grandmother is in big trouble, and I don’t care how fragile she is.”

“Somehow, I doubt she’s in much danger.” Matthew caught the edge of the open door and gestured for Hope to go first.

“You haven’t seen my temper.” Laughing, she breezed by him.

The wind caught her long curls and brushed the silken tips against the inside of his wrist. His grip on the door faltered, but she didn’t seem to notice that the bell overhead jingled furiously. She smelled like spring, like new sunshine and fresh flowers.

“Isn’t it marvelous that Hope has agreed to take my place on the committee?” Nora Greenley’s voice rang like a merry bell above the clash of conversation in the homey little café. “Matthew, that means the two of you will be working side by side. Doesn’t that sound terrific?”

“Nanna!” Shock paled Hope’s face. “But—”

“You know I’m not well, dear, and the doctor wants me to get as much rest as possible.”

“Yeah, but—” A fall of black hair cascaded across Hope’s face, hiding her profile as she leaned her grandmother’s crutches against the wall. Embarrassment stained her creamy complexion. She looked at him helplessly.

“It’s all right, Hope. I’m getting used to the manipulative behavior of old women with nothing else to do but interfere in my business.” He gave Nora a wink so she’d know he wasn’t mad. Well, not too mad.

“Watch who you’re calling old, young man.” But Nora’s eyes were laughing at him, as if she were enjoying this far too much. “Helen is calling the meeting to order. She’s about to announce Hope is taking over my position. I can’t tell you what a relief it is. Hope, dear, come sit down here between me and Matthew—”

It was too late to escape. Helen’s voice rose above the sound of the coffee grinder at the counter. And only two unoccupied chairs remained close by. If he wanted to escape, he would have to excuse himself through half of the crowded café.

Hope shot him an apologetic look as she took one of the two remaining chairs. Her hair, unbound and rich, tumbled across her shoulders, catching the sprinkle of sunlight through the curtained window. Her curls shone like polished ebony.

“Now, if Nora is settled,” Helen said as the room silenced. “I’ll let her tell about how her wonderful granddaughter, whom we haven’t seen in quite a few years, has agreed to take her position on our committee. Nora—”

“I didn’t agree to anything,” Hope leaned close to whisper. “Just so you know.”

“Oh, I know.” He did. He knew how his mother thought. Mom figured that enough time had passed since losing Kathy and that he ought to get on with his life. The boys needed more than a housekeeper—they needed a mother to love them. And he needed a wife.

But what she didn’t know, what she couldn’t accept, was that Kathy had been his whole heart.

Regret tightened in his chest until Nora’s words and the sounds of the café faded. His parents’ marriage had been based on respect, but not true love. Not like his and Kathy’s. Mom couldn’t understand.

Pain cut like a newly sharpened knife straight through the center of his chest. Mom didn’t realize she was hurting him, but she was. Her matchmaking attempts stirred up old memories and grief.

Applause ripped through the café, tearing into his thoughts. The meeting continued, and the sun flirting with the curtains grew warm on his back. Karen McKaslin arrived with coffee and tea for everyone.

Matthew leaned across the table, stretching for the packets of sugar. Hope scooted the little ceramic holder closer, so it was within his reach. She avoided his gaze and maybe it was because she was a woman, soft and pretty, but it made him feel keenly alone.

He remembered a verse from John, one he’d relied on heavily these last difficult years. “Here on this earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.”

Matthew stirred sugar into his tea and clung to those treasured words.