RaeAnne Thayne Hope's Crossings Series Volume One: Blackberry Summer\Woodrose Mountain\Sweet Laurel Falls (84 page)

“Mom, this whole thing with Jack… I'm just not ready to face
everyone again. It's been bad enough this year since Layla… Well, it's been bad
enough. And now this. I can't bear to have everybody talking about me and Jack
and our history together now. I'm going to pass. Please give my love to Claire.
Next year will be better.” She hoped.

“Oh, honey.” Mary Ella's mouth trembled and Maura really hoped
her mother wouldn't start crying, because then
she
would start crying.

They were both saved by a bustling outside the door, then a
strange, squeaky sound. A moment later, Sage appeared in the doorway. “Oh, good.
You
are
still here. Are you leaving soon? I was
hoping I could catch a ride home with you.”

She frowned. Sage had on her red peacoat, but it looked bulky
and unnatural. Maybe she was hiding a Christmas present under there. Maura
ordered herself not to ask, though she really hated secrets. “I thought you were
having dinner with your, er, with Jack tonight.”

“We changed our plans. He called just after I left the store
this afternoon and said his assistant scheduled a couple of conference calls and
he couldn't get out of them. I think he felt really bad, but I'm cool with it.
He's picking me up for breakfast tomorrow. Right after I hung up with him, Josie
texted me. She's back from UCLA for the holidays, so we've been hanging out at
her house.”

“Oh, how is Josie? Is she liking Stanford?”

“She's good. I guess she likes it okay, but all she wanted to
talk about was her new boyfriend. James. Not Jamie or Jim or Jimmy.
James
. He's a senior in pre-med and sounds boring as
hell.”

Maura saw her mother bite her lip to fight back a smile. She
wanted to chide Sage for swearing, especially in front of her grandmother, but
since she did the same all too often, she didn't feel that she had much
standing.

“Don't you have any boring boyfriends to talk about?” Mary Ella
asked.

Sage's expression suddenly grew closed, as it did whenever
Maura asked the same thing. “Oh, you know how it is. I don't have time for much
of a social life. I've got to ace my generals, or I won't be able to get into
the undergraduate environmental planning program.”

That mysterious squeak sounded again. It was definitely coming
from Sage's direction. Was it a burp? Maura looked closer, but her daughter
adjusted her arms a little and gave the two of them a casual smile. “Can you
believe Josie is thinking about changing her major again? This will be like her
fourth time.”

“You should be fortunate you've always known you wanted to be
an architect,” Mary Ella said.

Sage's torso suddenly wiggled oddly, and she moved as if
someone had just tickled her ribs.

“All right. What's going on, Sage?”

Her daughter put on the same innocent face she used to wear
when Maura would walk into her room and find crayon marks on the wall. “What
makes you think something is going on?”

“I don't know. Either you've got an alien inside your coat or a
serious case of indigestion.”

Sage sighed and unzipped her peacoat. A furry little tan face
peeked out cheerfully. “Josie brought a shih tzu puppy home from college. I
guess she got in trouble at school for having it in the dorm and thought she
could convince her parents to keep it here, but they already have three dogs and
don't want another one.”

“No,” Maura said without hesitation. “Absolutely not.”

“Come on, Mom. Look how adorable this face is. How can you say
no?” Sage lifted the tiny puppy about four inches away from Maura. The animal
looked like an Ewok, cuddly and cute. As she looked into those little black
eyes, the puppy titled its head and stretched its mouth out in what looked
suspiciously like a grin.

Something cold and hard seemed to dislodge inside her. It
scared the hell out of her.

“His name is Puck. Isn't he precious?”

“Sage. I can't take on a puppy right now. I don't have time!
I'm working twelve hours a day here at the store.”

“I'll do everything while I'm here. There's really not much,
anyway. He's almost potty trained.”

She and Mary Ella groaned simultaneously.
Almost potty trained
was often worse than not trained at all.

“I thought maybe he could come to the store with you. I mean,
it's called Dog-Eared Books & Brew, isn't it? Don't you think you should
have
some
kind of canine around the place to live up
to the name?”

“No. Not really.”

“Why not? Claire takes Chester to the bead store with her, and
Evie even uses Jacques for therapy.”

Neither of those dogs was a puppy—or a yippy, hyper little
breed. “No, Sage. This is not a good time to get a dog. You're going back to
school in a few weeks, and I'm just not ready to take on a pet.”

Her daughter pouted a little, her cheek pressed against the
dog's. But she had never been one to dwell long on disappointments. “Well, can
we at least keep him until the holidays are over? Josie said she has a friend
back in California who might be able to take him. She thought she could take him
back with her, but I guess her family's having tons of company over for the
holidays—her dad's whole family is coming to ski—and her mom said she can't
handle a puppy in the midst of everything else.”

Maura didn't know what to say. She hated to disappoint Sage,
but didn't they have enough strain in their lives right now, with Jack suddenly
bursting back into the picture after all these years?

“I thought, you know, having a cute little dog to keep us
company might be a good distraction for both of us, Mom. Help us not to miss
Layla so much over Christmas.”

She gave a mental groan. Trust Sage to come up with the one
thing Maura couldn't refuse. It broke her heart to think of Sage trying to
devise a way to ease her mother's pain and her own at the loss of her
sister.

“Finding your father isn't enough of a diversion?”

“For me. Not so much for you.”

Oh, having Jackson Lange back in Hope's Crossing definitely
qualified as a distraction. She had been so scatterbrained today, she had barely
been able to function.

She scrutinized the little dog. Okay, he
was
cute. What would be the harm in babysitting him for a few weeks?
They hadn't had a dog around the house since their much-beloved ancient golden
retriever had gone to the big fire hydrant in the sky the summer before Sage
started high school.

“Only until Josie goes back to school. And you have to promise
to do all the work, even if you're putting in hours here at the store. Feed him,
water him, clean up any messes. Everything. I mean it.”

“I will, I swear. Thanks, Mom.” Sage stepped forward and kissed
her cheek. The little sneak of a dog reached in and gave her cheek a lick
too.

Two days ago her life had seemed so simple. Raw and empty and
filled with pain, but not all these complications. Now she had Jack to deal
with, and Sage and her grief and her secrets, and now a fuzz-faced dog.

“Keep in mind the most important thing. You're cleaning up all
the messes,” she repeated, just to be clear.

“I know. I know. I won't forget. I'm going to go out and show
Sierra and Joe. Just come grab me when you're ready to go home.”

She gave her grandmother a kiss—and held the dog up to do the
same—before she blew out of the room as quickly as she'd entered.

“You're a sucker, my dear,” Mary Ella drawled.

“You don't have to tell me that. I always have been. I learned
it from you, the woman whose children talked her into three dogs, four cats, a
couple of gerbils, a tank full of fish and a fainting goat.”

“I miss that goat. My yard has never been as well groomed as
when we had him around to eat the grass. Maybe I should get another one.”

“I know a little shih tzu who could use a new house. Can't
promise he'll eat the grass, though.”

Mary Ella smiled and rose. “I'd better run, though after
quilting all day, I'm not sure these old fingers will be able to do much
beading.”

“Does that matter? You go to String Fever for the fun and
gossip as much as anything.”

“True enough.” Mary Ella paused and placed a hand on Maura's
cheek. “I pray for the day when you will want the same thing again.”

“I will. Someday.” Absurdly, she wanted to lean into her
mother's soft fingers and weep, but she forced herself to straighten her
shoulders. “If you find anything out about Harry, let me know. I should probably
be ready in case he decides to sue me for every penny, since my store is about
the only thing in town he
doesn't
own.”

Mary Ella smiled again, but Maura was almost certain she saw
anxiousness in her green eyes.

CHAPTER SIX

A
GRANDDAUGHTER
.

All this time he had a granddaughter, living right under his
nose.

Harry Lange fidgeted in the damn hospital bed, trying to find a
more comfortable position. He abhorred the Hope's Crossing hospital, even if he
had given the place enough cash over the years they should have named a wing
after him. The fawning doctors, the busybody nurses, the obsequious
administrators who had already been in to check that he was receiving
top-quality care.

This was the third time in a year he'd had the misfortune to
require treatment at this blasted place. Every visit left him more determined
than ever not to return unless it was to the basement morgue.

Most people in town considered him a bastard who plowed his way
through life, taking what he wanted without fear or second doubts. That wasn't
precisely true. If he dared, he would grab these IVs and yank them out of his
arm, unpeel the cardiac leads and head for the door.

He might be strong-minded but he wasn't stupid. He had a bad
heart. That was the cold, stark truth. Oh, the doctors gave it all kinds of
five-dollar words, but it boiled down to a bum ticker, so he was forced to lie
here helpless and let the idiots fuss over him while his son was here in Hope's
Crossing for the first time in twenty years.

Jackson.

That moment when he had walked into the bookstore, turned his
head and seen his son standing there, strong and handsome and hearty, was one he
would remember for a long time. Oh, Harry had seen Jack over the years—not that
his son had any idea of those surreptitious trips, which Harry had made in
disguise when his sources let him know of some building dedication or
architectural award.

Jack never would have seen him at any of those places. Harry
had made sure of that. Those few glimpses of his son had been both incredibly
rewarding and bitterly painful, and had left him aching for more.

He reached for the water bottle beside his bed, cursing the
stupid lines tethering him to the equipment. Wouldn't you know? The simpleton
nurse had left it just out of his reach. He was straining with one arm to reach
it without falling out of the bed, when he heard the door open.

“Help me here, will you, you idiot?” he barked, without taking
his gaze off the unattainable water bottle.

A long silence greeted him, and finally a voice answered,
“Still as charming as ever, I see.”

Off balance and extending his arm beyond a safe reach, Harry
would have fallen sideways out of bed if he hadn't caught himself at the last
minute.

His heart fluttered, and he thought with horror that maybe he
was having another attack of angina from the damned atrial fibrillation he'd
been dealing with for a year, but then he realized it was just completely
understandable shock at the sight of his son in the doorway.

“Son.”

Jack's mouth tightened at the word, but he moved closer to the
bed and picked up the water bottle Harry had been scrambling after like a pig
snuffling for apples.

“This what you were trying for?” Jack asked.

He grabbed at it, feeling ridiculous. “Yeah. Stupid nurses
always leave it just out of reach. What's the point of making sure my water
bottle is full when I can't grab it?”

Jack didn't make a comment, only raised an eyebrow. Harry had
wondered himself if the nurses didn't do it out of some kind of
passive-aggressive spite. He sipped at his water, wishing they could be meeting
under different circumstances, not when he was lying here in a damned hospital
gown.

“I didn't expect you to show up.”

Jack shrugged. “Call it a crazy impulse. Maybe I just wanted to
see how close you were to kicking the bucket.”

He refused to show any reaction to that. He had reaped what
he'd sown with his son, hadn't he? “I've still got a few miles left in me. The
idiot doctors say I've got atrial fibrillation. A-fib. I've been on medicine for
it, but I guess it's not working as well as we thought.”

Jack seemed to digest that information. “Are they keeping you
long?”

“Just overnight while they run some more tests.” If they
couldn't figure out the right medication, he was going to have to go to Denver
for a procedure to reshock his heart, but he decided not to tell Jack that. He
quickly changed the subject.

“What's this about you having a daughter? You were a smart kid.
Didn't you have the brains to use protection?”

Jack sighed. “It was a shock to me too. I haven't spoken with
Maura in twenty years now. She never said a word to me about a pregnancy. I'd
like to think I would have taken responsibility if I had known. Every child
deserves a father willing to stand up and be a man and take part in raising
him.”