Hometown Hope

by Laurel Blount

  One almost imperceptible shoulder shrug was Jess’s only response.

  “Maybe I should have taken Chester with me. He’s always been really good at helping me handle my feelings.”

  Jess glanced between Chester and Anna, and her eyebrow cocked up again.

  Anna kept her smile in place, trying not to show how nervous she was about where this conversation was headed. “I found Chester on my pillow the morning my mother left on her trip. I’d been begging for a puppy, but we couldn’t have one because my father was allergic. My dad said she’d left him to keep me company while she was gone. After my mom died, of course, I had a lot of big feelings to deal with. And my dad...well, he loved me so much. But the problem was, he was dealing with his own big feelings. When I tried to talk to him about how I missed my mom, it upset him. Once it even made him cry. So I stopped talking to him about it, but then I started having nightmares. Sometimes,” Anna leaned close and whispered, “I even wet the bed.”

  Jess’s eyes widened comically at that admission, and Anna smiled. “Yeah, I know. I was way too old for that kind of thing. But now and then, when our feelings are too big for us, things like that happen. Fortunately I found out something about Chester.” Anna reached out and stroked the dog’s misshapen head with a gentle finger. “He has a superpower. He’s a really great listener. He never cried or worried or got scared himself, but he always seemed to understand when I did. He was just the best buddy to have whenever my feelings got a little too much for me to handle. And that’s why I’m giving him to you.”

  “You don’t have to do that, Anna.”

  The deep voice startled Anna so much that she jumped, making the worn-out springs of her old sofa jiggle. Her cheeks flushed hot. How long had Hoyt been leaning against the kitchen doorframe? How much had he heard?

  Before she could answer him, Jess leaped up from the couch, with Chester clutched tightly in her arms.

  “Please let me have Chester, Daddy!” Jess made her plea as naturally as any ordinary five-year-old. She hugged the floppy dog against her T-shirt. “I have big feelings, too, just like Miss Anna did. I need him.”

  As Hoyt stared at his daughter, relief and joy broke over his face, smoothing out all those tight, weary lines. But when he spoke, his voice only shook a little.

  “Okay then, baby. If Miss Anna really doesn’t mind.”

  “I’ve actually been considering adopting a real live dog, so I don’t mind a bit.” She didn’t. The truth was, she’d been tempted to put her once-beloved little toy in the trash, given what she’d read in that journal.

  She was glad she hadn’t given in to that impulse. God really had brought beauty from ashes, just like the Bible said.

  Thank You, Lord.

  Jess bounced up and down, hugging the scruffy toy. “Thanks, Daddy!” The little girl turned her blue eyes on Anna’s face. “I’ll take extra good care of him, I promise!”

  Anna nodded. She was having some trouble squeezing words past the peach-sized lump in her throat. “I know,” she managed finally. “Oh, I know you will, sweetie. You’ll take wonderful care of him.”

  When Jess turned her attention back to Chester, Anna made the mistake of glancing up at Hoyt. He was looking straight at her now, with an expression so direct and so intense that her heartbeat stammered in response to it.

  Thank you, he mouthed.

  Her face went hot, then cold, and tears pricked at the back of her eyes. You’re so very welcome. It was the least I could do. That was what she should have told him, or something along those lines. But for some reason, looking into his shining hazel eyes, Anna couldn’t say a word.

  All she could do was smile.

  Chapter Six

  The following morning, Hoyt stood in front of Pages, kicking the cracked curbing with the toe of his work boot. He glanced at his watch for the third time in five minutes. He’d have to get to the job site soon. Mitch needed him to do a walk-through before the county inspector showed up this afternoon.

  Hoyt craned his neck to peer in through the window. Anna was still talking to Trish.

  He’d wait out here a little longer. He didn’t have time to waste passing pleasantries with Trisha Saunders this morning. He had more important things on his agenda.

  He’d dropped Jess off at day care a little while ago. She’d chattered to him the whole way, clutching that worn-out stuffed puppy Anna had given her.

  She’d clammed up the minute they’d arrived at the center just like always, but he was focusing on his blessings today. At least Jess had regained the ground she’d lost, and there was every reason to hope she’d keep moving forward. He had Anna to thank for that.

  It was funny, what you didn’t know about people. He’d known Anna’s mother was dead, but he’d never stopped to think about what that must have meant to a girl growing up. All those hours they’d spent together with her coaxing him page by page through some boring book, he’d never given much thought to what her personal life was like.

  Pretty selfish of him. Then again, he’d had so much trouble on his own plate back then that he hadn’t had much time to pay attention to other people’s problems.

  He looked at his watch again. He really needed to get to work. He leaned over to look through the window again, hoping to see some sort of sign that Anna and Trish’s conversation was coming to a close.

  He saw no hint of that, but what he did see had him abandoning the curb and striding into the bookstore.

  “What’s wrong?” It was more of a demand than a question, and both women jumped.

  “Hoyt Bradley!” Trish pressed one hand against her heart and shot him an irritated look. “You nearly scared the life out of me, bursting in here like that!”

  Hoyt ignored her. “Anna? Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Of course she is!” For a second Trish’s annoyance flashed plainly, then she shot another wary look in Hoyt’s direction. The florist reached out and patted Anna’s arm. “Anna and I were just settling up some things, that’s all. We women aren’t like you hard-hearted men, Hoyt. When we have to close up a business, it feels like we’re giving up one of our children.” Trish’s hand strayed to her own round belly, and she offered him a gentle smile. “Well, not quite like that, of course. But close. Especially when you don’t have any real family to focus on. Isn’t that right, Anna?”

  Anna quietly moved her arm out of patting range. “Did you need something, Hoyt? Trisha was just leaving.”

  Trisha’s expression shifted from smug back to irked. “I suppose I do need to get back to the shop. I have weddings booked every weekend from now through November. That’s why I can’t keep this expansion on the back burner any longer. I’ve simply got to have more space.” Trish tapped a paper on the checkout counter with one brightly painted nail. “You have my offer, Anna, and like I said, it’s take it or leave it. Let me know.”

  Trish shot Anna one last hard glance that Hoyt didn’t much like and then made a point of brushing against him as she went out the door, even though there was plenty of space. Trish always had been a flirt, and her marriage hadn’t changed that as much as it should have.

  But he wasn’t worried about Trisha’s morals right now. “Let me see that.” Before Anna could argue, he pulled the paper toward him and skimmed it.

  He was scowling before he made it halfway down the page. The offer was a few digits short of outright robbery. “You’re crazy if you agree to this price. She’s ripping you off.”

  “It’s not as much as I’d hoped to get, that’s for sure. But given my circumstances, and the condition of the building, I’m not sure I have much choice.” The defeat in Anna’s voice made him look up at her. He didn’t like the way that expression changed her face, not one bit.

  He also didn’t like what her remark about the building reminded him of. He hesitated, hating to pile on any m
ore trouble when she was already having such a tough morning. But some things really couldn’t wait.

  “This building does need some work. That wiring in your apartment was installed back before people had all the electrical appliances we use now. It’s not built to handle the load you’ve got on it. Plus, it’s just plain worn out. Poking around up there, I saw exposed wiring and some jacklegged repairs that aren’t even close to being up to code. I meant to talk with you about that yesterday, but then—”

  “Then Jess talked.” The worried creases between Anna’s brows smoothed a little. “How’s she doing this morning?”

  “Really good.” He forgot about Anna’s problems for a second or two as he recounted their chattery trip into town. “That’s why I came in today, to thank you. That talk and that stuffed dog, Charlie—”

  “Chester.”

  “Right. Chester. He really did the trick. I feel bad about you having to give him up, though.”

  “Don’t.” She spoke so sharply that it took him back for a second. But then she smiled. “Honestly, I was glad to do it.”

  There was no mistaking the sincerity in her voice. But still. “Well, I owe you big for that one, Anna, and I won’t forget it.” He wouldn’t. He’d find some way to pay her back. In fact, he already had one idea. It was a little crazy, and he might not be able to pull it off. But he was looking into it.

  “You don’t owe me a thing, Hoyt. It was my freak-out in that airplane that set Jess back in the first place.” She tilted her head, considering him. “You know, I’m still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that you’re a pilot. That’s a really big accomplishment. Congratulations.”

  She was using the compliment as a subject changer. More proof that Anna Delaney was one smart woman because it worked like a charm. Funny how a few simple words could warm a man’s insides up like a cup of hot coffee on a chilly day.

  “Thanks.”

  “How did you get interested in flying?”

  He’d been asked that before, lots of times. He had a stock answer, an answer that told enough of the truth to be believable but not enough to raise any eyebrows.

  He started to give it, and then he remembered Anna sitting on the couch with his daughter, her fingers clenched together so tightly that her knuckles were paper white, talking about the toughest time in her life as honestly as she could.

  He owed this woman the truth.

  “I took it up after Marylee died because I’d started drinking.”

  The curiosity in Anna’s eyes flashed into shock and then gentled into a cautious sympathy. “Did it help?”

  “Yeah, but not for the reason I thought it would. I was just...lost without Marylee. We got together so young we pretty much grew up together. I honestly didn’t know where I stopped and she started.” He had to stop and clear his throat. “When she was sick... Well, it was tough. Then when she was gone and Jess quit talking, the pain got to be so much that I started hitting the bottle. Dumbest thing I could have done, I know.”

  “Pain like that could make anybody do dumb things, Hoyt.” Anna’s voice was gentle.

  “You sound like the preacher. Stone was the one who put me onto the idea of flying. It was one hobby I definitely couldn’t do if I was drinking. Everett made me blow in a tube before every lesson to make sure. That’s why I started. But I kept on because...” He paused and then forged ahead. “Maybe it sounds bad, but everything around this town made me think of Marylee, and I was so sick of hurting all the time. Flying was something new, something she’d never been a part of. It’s hard to explain, but it gave me some of the only relief I got, back then.”

  “No, I understand. When my father died—” She stopped and flushed. “I’m sorry. I know losing a parent isn’t the same as losing a wife.”

  He shook his head. “Loss is loss, Anna. And grieving somebody you loved isn’t ever anything you should apologize for.”

  A little humor sparkled back into her eyes. “Now who’s sounding like Pastor Stone?”

  Hoyt grinned. Well, that was new. Nobody’d ever accused him of sounding like a preacher before. “I guess the man rubs off on you. And I’ll admit he does have good ideas. The flying helped me even more than I thought it would. When I saw Pine Valley spread out underneath the wings of that plane, suddenly things just made more sense. Know what I mean?”

  Her green eyes were focused very intently on his now, and she shook her head slowly. “No, I don’t think I do.”

  Hoyt struggled to figure out some way to explain it. “The surprising thing when you’re up in the air is how...” he searched for the right word “...connected everything seems. It’s seeing everything at the same time, I guess. And maybe seeing some things that you wouldn’t ordinarily see at all. Like I noticed Pete Garwood was out working in his yard in the middle of a workday, and I recalled hearing that the company he worked for was laying folks off right and left. He owed me money, Garwood did, for an addition I’d put on his house some months back, and I was getting pretty aggravated with him until I put two and two together.” He was making a mess of this explanation, but he couldn’t see any way to do better, so he just kept going. “Flying helped me understand people around here better. It gave me more...” He trailed off again, searching for the right word.

  “Perspective.” Anna supplied it quietly.

  “Right.” He paused, trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to say next. “That’s partly why I wanted to take you flying. Because I thought maybe that’s what it’ll take to turn this bookstore around. Some perspective on what the folks around here are really like, you know? What they’re interested in.”

  Anna sighed. “Maybe. I’ve done a lot of research on the best ways to market books, and of course, I know the things my dad used to do to drum up business. I really wanted to do one of those author chats he used to host here. I even have a lead on a bestselling author who’s willing to come. That would be a huge boost. But things like that cost money, and I just don’t have it. You know what they say. It takes money to make money.”

  She had a point there. Hoyt hesitated. He dimly recalled those author chats—mainly because Principal Delaney was always badgering him to attend one. He never had, and the way he remembered it, not that many other people had, either. But maybe he was wrong. Anyway, there was no doubt that Anna knew a lot more about books than he did. If she thought one of those author chat things was going to be the key to turning this bookstore around, maybe she was right.

  “How much would something like that run you?”

  Anna thought for a minute and then named a figure. Hoyt reached into his back pocket and pulled out his checkbook.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Investing.” He scribbled out the check and laid it on the counter.

  Anna stared at it in horror. “I can’t let you do that!”

  “You can. Or you can sell out to Trisha for next to nothing.” He tapped Trisha’s offer with one finger. “Your call, but I have to tell you, I’d sure hate to see you sell your dad’s dream for a bogus amount like this. It doesn’t seem right.”

  Judging by the look on Anna’s face, he’d gone at this from the best possible angle. She studied the check for a few silent seconds. Then she shook her head.

  “I can’t, though. You’d probably just be wasting that money, no matter what I try at this point.”

  “That’s a risk I’m willing to take. I’m serious, Anna. Jess is talking because of you and this store. I don’t pretend to understand why, but she is. I have a stake in what happens to this place, too.”

  Anna hesitated while he watched hope and worry battling it out in her eyes. Hope won out. “All right. I’ll accept the check on two conditions. First, on the understanding that I’ll pay it back with interest just as soon as I can.”

  “Not necessary, but if you want to do that, fine. What’s the second condition?”r />
  Anna pulled a hardback book off a nearby display and shoved it in his direction. “That you buy this, and come to the author chat. If you’re sponsoring the event, you should at least attend.”

  Whoa.

  He spun the book around with the tip of his finger and read the title. The Seventh Scaffold by somebody named James Coulter. There wasn’t even a scaffold on the cover, just a cracked vase with a flower lying beside it. “I’ll buy it, sure. Do I have to read it?”

  “Hoyt.”

  “Ring it up, then.”

  He couldn’t quite keep the gloom out of his voice, and Anna shook her head. “You know, you might actually enjoy this book, Hoyt.”

  “I guess anything’s possible.” Hoyt dug for his wallet as the bells on the cash register rang.

  He was being polite. The chances of him liking any book sporting a flower on its cover were slim to none.

  On the other hand, he sure was enjoying seeing that spunk sparkling in Anna Delaney’s eyes again.

  * * *

  A couple of weeks later, Anna kept her determined smile plastered on her face and adjusted the sign that read Author Chat with James Coulter, which she’d positioned next to the stack of his books.

  This event had to go well. She literally couldn’t afford for anything to go wrong. The problem was, when a former college classmate became a bestselling author, he didn’t necessarily stop being a total pain in the neck.

  James had arrived almost an hour early tonight, wanting to make sure that his lengthy list of pre-event demands had been met. Ignoring her assurances, he’d insisted on ticking through the list item by item. Sparkling water, a particular style of pen and an array of organic, gluten-free snacks that she’d had to ask boutique grocer Bailey Quinn to special-order.

  That was fine. She had all that covered, plus she’d paid him an only slightly reduced honorarium for coming, so he should have been happy.