Annie ran her finger over the tender lump. It felt much larger than when she’d first checked. “Oh, I bumped my head on one of the beams in the attic, but it’s nothing, really. I’m okay.” She glanced in the mirror over the dresser and pulled in a sharp gasp. The lump looked red and swollen.
Irene pursed her lips. “Bumps on the head can be very serious.” She took Annie’s arm and guided her to the bed. “Why don’t you lie down, and I’ll go get a cold pack?”
“Oh, Irene, you don’t have to do that.”
“No arguing. We’ve got to get some ice on there before you turn all black-and-blue.”
Annie gave in and lay down, all the while feeling a bit ridiculous. But Irene was so insistent, and she didn’t want to upset her.
“That’s the way.” Irene bustled over and took the afghan from the back of the chair, then laid it over Annie.
The blanket felt soft against her skin, and the pillows were plush and comforting.
Irene smiled. “It’s about time you let someone take care of you for a change.”
“Thanks, but really, I’m fine.”
“We’ll see about that.” She adjusted her glasses and leaned closer to look at Annie’s forehead. “My, that does look like a nasty bump. But I’m sure it will calm down as soon as we get some ice on it.” She straightened. “You just lie still and rest. I’ll be right back.”
Annie glanced at the clock. “I have to pick up Emma from school in a few minutes.”
“Don’t worry. Alex can pick her up.”
“No!” Annie sat up. “He doesn’t have time for that.”
“Nonsense. I’m sure he won’t mind.” She pointed at Annie. “Now, lie down and stay put.”
Annie settled back against the pillows. Great! Now Alex was really going to be put out with her.
She wrestled with those thoughts for a couple minutes while the painful lump on her forehead throbbed. Maybe she should just take a pain reliever and go find Alex, then she could apologize and catch him before Irene sent him off to get Emma.
As she was about to get up, Alex strode into the bedroom carrying an ice pack. His face was set in a stern frown as he leveled his icy-blue gaze at her. “I thought you said it was just a little bump?”
“I’m okay.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed and started to sit up.
But he placed his hand on her shoulder and glared at her forehead. “It looks like a goose egg. Lie down.”
With an exasperated huff, she flopped back onto the pillows. “Goodness, you’re worse than your grandmother.”
He settled the cold pack on her forehead. The cool weight sent a shock through her, and she sucked in a quick breath.
“Too cold?”
“Yes...I mean no. It’s fine.” The frosty pack numbed the pain shooting across her forehead.
He crossed his arms and continued to glare at her.
“I wish you’d stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re ready to bite my head off.”
His expression eased. “Sorry. I’m not mad. I’m just concerned.”
“Oh, is that what you call it?” She closed her eyes. She hated feeling at odds with him, but she wasn’t about to let him come in here and treat her like a disobedient child. She was a grown woman, and she’d been taking care of herself for several years. She didn’t need some overbearing, mean—
“Annie.” His gentle, pleading tone broke through her thoughts.
She opened her eyes. His glare was gone, replaced by a softer expression. Her breath caught in her throat, and she had to force out her reply. “What?”
“I was thinking about what you said in the hall, about the bakery.”
Regret washed away the last of her anger. “I’m sorry, Alex. I never should’ve called you heartless. I just—”
He held up his hand. “No, you were right. I’m feeling the pressure to get back to work, and I haven’t seriously considered any other options besides closing down. But if you meant what you said about managing the bakery, I’m willing to consider it staying open.”
She stared at him. “You’re serious?”
“I am if you are.” A hopeful light shone in his blue eyes. “We’d have to develop a new business plan and go to the bank for a loan, but if you want to take it on, I’m open to it.”
A smile rose from her heart and burst across her face. She lifted her hand and touched the cold pack on her forehead. “Wow, you really are serious.”
He grinned and nodded. “Of course, my grandmother will have to agree to whatever plan you suggest, but I think she would be thrilled to see Jameson’s stay open.”
She smiled up at him, the bump on her forehead forgotten. “Thanks, Alex. I’m sure with us all working together we can find a way to save the bakery.”
* * *
Alex settled at one end of the couch and propped his feet up on the ottoman. Flaming logs in the fireplace crackled and hissed, spreading warmth and flickering light around the room. The scent of popcorn hung in the air, along with the fragrance of a pumpkin-spice candle burning on the coffee table. He took a sip of coffee and let its soothing warmth settle his thoughts.
His grandmother sat in her recliner with her feet up and a knitting project in her lap. Annie and Emma sat across from him on the love seat, snuggled up together with a book open between them.
A smile crept across his lips as Annie began reading.
“One day a rich young man came to Jesus and asked him, ‘Good teacher, what should I do to be sure I have eternal life?’ Jesus answered and said, ‘Why do you call me good? Only God is good.’”
Emma wrinkled her nose. “Why did he say that?”
“Jesus asked him a question to get him thinking.” Annie smiled and tapped Emma’s forehead. “Jesus knows we learn more when we think things through and find out the answers for ourselves.”
Emma smiled and nodded. She was an intelligent child, but could a five-year-old really understand a concept like that? He supposed if Annie read to her often and they discussed what she read, Emma might be able to catch the meaning. But he had to admit it surprised him.
Annie continued the story. “‘Jesus told him to keep these commandments: love your neighbor as yourself, don’t murder, always tell the truth, and be sure to honor and obey your parents.’”
“I know a verse about that,” Emma said. “‘Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right.’”
Irene chuckled. “That’s a verse every child should memorize.”
Emma sat up straighter. “I learned it for my class at church. And I know a lot more verses. You want to hear ’um?”
Annie patted Emma’s knee. “Let’s finish the story and see if we have time for that when we’re done.”
“Okay.” She leaned back against her mother.
Annie’s expression grew serious. “This rich young man loved his money more than he loved God.”
Emma frowned. “That’s not good.”
“No, it’s not. Jesus wants to have first place in our hearts and lives. So He told the young man, ‘Go and sell what you own, give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven, then come and follow me.’”
“Did he do it?” Emma looked up, her expression full of hope.
“No. The Bible says he went away sad because he was very rich.”
Emma’s shoulders sagged. “He didn’t go with Jesus?”
“No, he didn’t,” Annie said softly.
“How come?”
Annie thought for a moment. “I suppose he didn’t like the idea of giving away his money or leaving home to go with Jesus.”
Alex stared at the fire, pondering the story. Was he like that rich young man? He made a good salary, but he didn’t
think he loved money. He liked to stick to his own plan, though, and run his own life without much thought of what God wanted him to do. What would Jesus think of that?
“I don’t have much money,” Emma said, “but I would give it to Jesus if he asked me.”
Alex’s stomach clenched. Could he say the same thing?
Annie slipped her arm around Emma. “I know you would, sweetie.”
Alex set his coffee cup aside, as uneasiness tightened his chest. For the past ten years, he’d focused on building his career, becoming successful and making as much money as possible. He’d stopped attending church, and all thoughts of faith and serving others went on the back burner. Of course, he’d never stopped loving Gram, but his visits home diminished to one or two a year, with only occasional phone calls.
How had his life gotten so off track? When had he drifted into such selfish patterns that were so far from what his parents and grandparents had taught him?
Annie glanced at her watch. “It’s time for you to get ready for bed.”
Emma stuck out her lower lip. “But I’m not tired.”
“It’s a school night. You need your rest, so off you go.”
Emma slowly rose from the couch, looking more tired than she wanted to admit. She trooped over to Irene and gave her a hug.
Gram smiled, looking delighted as she held the little girl tight. “Good night, Emma. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Emma turned and looked at Alex with shy, searching eyes.
His heart melted. He sat forward and held out his arms. She hurried across the room, stepped into his embrace and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.
He closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of marshmallows and hot cocoa. The warmth and trust in her hug caught him by surprise. His throat suddenly felt tight, and he had to force out his words. “Good night, Emma. Sleep tight.”
“G’night.” She let go and stepped back, her expression warm and her dark brown eyes glowing with affection and trust.
Annie looked down at him with a tender smile. “Come on, Emma.” She laid her hand on her daughter’s shoulder and guided her out of the room.
Alex sat back, watching them go. Emma was a sweet kid. Annie was doing a great job raising her. The more time he spent with them, the more he sensed a special connection growing between him and Annie.
A warning flashed through him, sending a reminder to be careful. He had a job and life back in San Francisco, and falling for a hometown girl was not part of his plan. Sure, he wanted to get married and have a family someday. But this wasn’t a good time to think about getting serious with anyone, especially when things at work were so uncertain. And the last thing he wanted to do was hurt Annie.
Still, he couldn’t deny the attraction he felt toward her. He and Annie were friends, and perhaps they would become business partners if she ended up running the bakery for his grandmother.
But that was the only role he intended to let her fill in his life.
* * *
Annie grabbed her purse and three plastic grocery bags from the backseat. Emma unbuckled her seat belt and climbed out of the car on the other side.
“Please take your backpack,” Annie called before her daughter could make her escape.
Emma sighed, but she turned and slung the backpack over her shoulder.
Annie’s heart clenched as she watched her daughter trudge up the walk toward Irene’s front door. More than a week had passed since she and Emma had moved in with Irene and Alex, but her daughter still didn’t seem settled. She woke up once or twice every night, calling for Annie. And during the day, she seemed more clingy than usual.
It hadn’t been an easy transition for Annie, either. Spending so much time with Alex stirred up her emotions, making her feel awkward around him—although Alex seemed clueless. She’d wondered if he would fire her and send them packing after the blowup yesterday, but he hadn’t.
She followed her daughter up the front steps, her thoughts stuck on Alex. What had he been doing all day? Would he really follow through on the idea of remodeling Jameson’s and hiring her as manager, or was he out there right now looking for someone else to buy it? Did he think she’d be a good manager? Did he ever think of the possibility of them being more than friends?
Oh, this was silly. She needed to stop thinking about Alex like that. He was her friend and employer. That was it. There was no sense in hoping for anything more.
“Mom, are you coming?” Emma stood by the front door.
Annie hustled across the porch and let them in. Emma dropped her backpack on the floor and headed down the hall.
Annie picked up the backpack. She didn’t see Irene, so she tiptoed down the hall and peeked in her bedroom door. Irene lay on the bed, covered with a blue-and-yellow quilt and snoring softly.
Annie returned to the kitchen to unload the groceries and tackle the dirty dishes left from her afternoon cooking spree. Emma walked into the kitchen.
“So how was school today?” Annie rinsed a sticky bowl and set it in the dishwasher.
“Okay.” Emma sighed and leaned against the cabinet next to the sink.
Annie studied her daughter. Emma usually came home bursting with stories about her day. The way Emma stared across the room and chewed her lip hinted at a problem.
“Did Mrs. Carlton read more about Squanto and the Pilgrims?”
Emma shook her head and looked down at the floor.
“Did you play with Haley at recess?”
“No.”
“Why not? I thought she was your best friend.”
Emma shrugged.
Annie grabbed a towel, dried her hands and knelt in front of Emma. “What is it, sweetie? What’s wrong?”
Emma’s chin wobbled, and tears flooded her eyes. “How come I don’t have a daddy?”
Annie stifled a gasp, then reached for her daughter and wrapped her in a tight hug. “Oh, sweetie. You have a daddy. He just doesn’t live here with us.”
“Why not?” Emma’s voice came out in a choked whisper. “Haley’s daddy lives with her.”
Annie closed her eyes and sent off a silent plea for help. She knew she would have to answer these questions someday, but she thought it would be years away. She gently released her daughter and leaned back so she could see her face. “Why don’t we get a snack, and then we can sit down and talk about it, okay?”
Emma sniffed and nodded.
Annie’s mind spun as she opened the refrigerator and debated what she would say to her daughter. She couldn’t tell her that her father didn’t even know she existed. That would be too devastating. She’d just have to ask Emma some questions and see what brought this up.
“I made some applesauce this morning.” She reached for two bowls, though she wasn’t sure she would be able to eat any. “Shall I sprinkle cinnamon on yours?”
“Okay.” Emma walked over to her backpack and unzipped it. “My teacher says I have to give you a paper about our feel trip.”
“You mean field trip?” Annie forced a smile.
Emma cocked her head, looking puzzled. “That’s what I said.”
The new topic eased Annie’s fears for the moment. “Where is your class going?”
Emma shrugged and held out the note. “I can’t ’member.”
Annie scanned the information. “It says you’re going to Hoffman’s Dairy Farm. You’re going to watch them milk the cows and make butter and cheese. You’re even going to sample some ice cream.” Emma loved ice cream.
But her daughter’s somber expression didn’t change. She took her bowl of applesauce, murmured thank-you and carried it over to the kitchen table.
Annie sent off another silent prayer and sat next to Emma. “So what made you think to ask about your...daddy?” Even saying the word made her feel off
balance.
“Haley said her daddy bought her a new bike for her birthday. And they went for a ride at the park.”
“That sounds fun.”
“She asked what my daddy got for me.” Emma stirred her applesauce. “I said nothing ’cause I don’t have a daddy.”
Annie’s heart twisted. She laid her hand over Emma’s. “All children have a mommy and a daddy. That’s God’s plan for the family. But not all mommies and daddies stay together to raise their children.”
Emma looked up at her. “So where’s my daddy?”
Annie pressed her lips together. Memories heavy with pain twisted through her, and she had to force out the words. “Your daddy moved away before you were born. I don’t know where he lives now. So it’s always been just you and me. But a mom and a daughter are still a family.”
Emma swirled her spoon through her applesauce. “I wish my daddy lived here.”
Annie looked into her daughter’s sorrowful eyes. This was a new level of suffering for Emma, and it was Annie’s fault.
She reached over and tenderly brushed her daughter’s hair back from her forehead. “I understand what you’re saying, sweetie. You wish you had a daddy who lived with us and was a part of our family.”
Emma nodded, a glimmer of hope reflected in her eyes.
Annie’s heart plummeted to a new low. A father...that was what every little girl wanted and needed, but it was the one thing Annie could never give her daughter. No matter how much she wished a godly man would step into that role of husband and father for her and Emma, she had no power to make it happen. Annie’s eyes burned as she tried to steel herself against her daughter’s disappointment. But it was useless. The painful consequences of her foolish choices had hurt them both, so much more than she could ever have imagined.
* * *
Alex heard voices in the kitchen as he crossed the living room. It sounded like Annie and Emma.
“So where’s my daddy?” Emma asked.
He stopped and strained to hear Annie’s answer. Maybe he shouldn’t listen in on their conversation, but that same question had cycled through his mind several times this past week.
Snowflake Sweethearts Page 6
