Logan levered himself up with his good hand and stood. He wanted to get as far away from her as possible.
When she scrambled to her feet, her eyes came level to his chest. “Fine.” She took a step back and shoved several stray strands of hair away from her face to study his injury. “But you should get it looked at. It could be broken.”
Broken? He groaned. A deep purple bruise had already begun to spread across his hand. “I’m sure it’s fine.”
“I really don’t think so. There’s a medical clinic in town.... I have the children arriving soon, but if you want to wait until they all get here, I could drive you in the day-care van?”
That was a guilt offer if he’d ever heard one. Without even considering it, he shook his head. The medical clinic wasn’t that far—he’d walk.
The woman pointed to the left. “Six blocks that way, take a right onto Main Street—”
“I know where it is.”
“Oh...okay. You sure you don’t want a ride? It’s no trouble.”
She was not a good liar.
“I’m sure.”
She bent to get her sign. “Okay.” Then picking up the ladder, she set it against the house.
“What are you doing?” Logan held his sore wrist with one hand.
“Hanging my sign,” she said, stepping onto the first rung.
“Are you crazy? That ladder is a million years old.”
A dark red minivan pulled up in front of the house, and she stepped down and waved, smiling warmly. The effect transformed her face as her dark eyes lit up and her features softened.
Logan’s eyes followed hers to see two children climb out of the back of the van.
“Okay,” he muttered, “well, thanks for the injury.”
Holding up his purple, swollen hand, he went through the gate past the children and then the bed-and-breakfast, heading in the direction of the clinic.
* * *
“I DIDN’T REALIZE I was making so much noise over there with that sign, but he was pretty irate.” Leigh took a sip of her chamomile tea from the oversize mug and curled a leg under her on the wicker chair, as she settled in the dining room of the bed-and-breakfast that evening. All day she’d been worried she might have caused trouble for her cousin Rachel and her partner, Victoria Mason...and she’d felt guilty about his injury. That swelling and bruising hadn’t looked good. But she hadn’t asked for his help. In fact, she never asked anyone for help. She’d learned the hard way that depending on someone else led to disappointment.
Rachel couldn’t conceal her worry even as she said, “Ah, I didn’t hear anything. He’s just a grumpy guy.... Though he has been gone a long time,” she added before biting into a raspberry muffin. “And yesterday, my kids drove him crazy running in the halls. It was raining so hard, I couldn’t send them outside. Poor guy’s not getting much peace and quiet with all the noise around here.”
Leigh shook her head. “Kids playing is not noise, it’s called fun.”
“I don’t know. My crew can be loud sometimes.” She nodded toward the side of the yard where her older children used garden rakes to gather the leaves that had fallen from the oaks and maples in the spacious yard and piled them high.
“Looks like they’re being helpful to me, cleaning up.”
“Just wait.”
A second later the three kids ran screaming, diving into the pile, rescattering leaves all over the yard.
“See?”
She couldn’t help envying her cousin and her five children. After years of trying to have kids, she’d been unsuccessful. The problem wasn’t conceiving. Three miscarriages, fertility treatments and countless tests had yet to determine the reason for her inability to carry a baby to term, and at thirty-eight, she was forced to face facts: having a child of her own wasn’t a possibility.
Especially now that she found herself single again after ten years of marriage.
Neil had filed for divorce four years before, claiming that the stress of trying to have a family had taken its toll on their relationship and created a wedge between them that he couldn’t get past.
Though she’d been devastated, she hadn’t been able to argue with the obvious: their relationship had changed. She couldn’t fault him for leaving. He wanted children and that wasn’t something she could give him.
Rachel touched her hand, bringing her back to the present. She lowered her voice as she asked, “Have you heard from the adoption agency yet?”
The cousins were close, yet it still amazed Leigh how easily Rachel could read her thoughts. “They called last month to say they’d received the first portion of my deposit.”
She toyed with the rim of the oversize mug. Deciding to adopt had been a major decision, and not one that she’d made lightly. She’d saved every cent of her divorce settlement from Neil for four years, waiting until she was certain she was ready to take this step, and now she was. She was fully prepared to raise a child on her own.
“It was enough to open my file and start the paperwork, but they said it could take months before I hear anything else.” Her shoulders sagged. She knew this process wouldn’t happen overnight, especially when she was hoping to adopt a newborn, but she was painfully aware that she wasn’t getting any younger. She wanted to start a family before she turned forty.
“Don’t worry, it will happen. You’re terrific with the kids in your day care. Anyone can see you will make a wonderful mom someday.” Rachel gave her hand a reassuring squeeze as Victoria joined them in the dining room, carrying a cup of black coffee.
“Sorry, I got caught up on the phone with Mrs. Dawson. She’s planning a Halloween murder-mystery dinner at the recreation center and she wants to advertise the event in the Brookhollow View. I was helping her with the wording. What did I miss?”
Leigh shot her cousin a look. The only people she’d confided in about her adoption plans were Rachel and Grandmother Norris, and she wanted to keep the information between the three of them. Until she had a child of her own, she didn’t want anyone to know she was going through the process. Disappointment was harder to bear when it had an audience, and if things didn’t work out...
Victoria glanced between the two women and took a sip of her steaming coffee.
Rachel cleared her throat. “We were just discussing our mysterious, brooding guest in the Blue Room.”
“Mr. Walters?” Victoria’s eyes narrowed. “He checked in yesterday morning. Said he planned to stay two or three weeks for sure, maybe longer. I checked out his website from the email address he left on file—he’s some famous mystery novelist.” She took another sip of coffee. “He almost knocked me off my feet when I came in today. What did he do now?”
“He was harassing Leigh about hanging her new day-care sign. Too loud.”
