Home For Keeps. Lynn Patrick

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Home For Keeps - Lynn Patrick Mills & Boon Heartwarming

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behind bars in the mural was Angela, and the woman she couldn’t reach was her mother.”

      Grace’s eyebrows rose. “So her mother’s not here. A recent divorce?”

      He shook his head. “Never married. Lily ran off after Angela was born.”

      “Oh.” Distress shadowed Grace’s expression, but she recovered quickly. “Then your explanation of the mural makes total sense.”

      “Why now, though?” Caleb still couldn’t fathom it.

      Had someone been talking to Angela about her mother? Lily’s parents had moved to a warmer climate after she’d disappeared. And there were no other relatives in the area. So who?

      He said, “She’s rarely asked about her mother in all these years.”

      “But now she’s fifteen. A fifteen-year-old girl needs a mother.”

      Hearing a catch in Grace’s voice, Caleb started. She didn’t even know his daughter. “That’s something I can’t do for her. I’ve never heard from her mother since she ran off. I have no idea where to find her. And I can’t even make Angela realize what she did at Green Meadows was wrong.”

      “I guess all you can do is keep trying. Talk to her. Support her.”

      “Exactly what I’ve been doing all these years!” He hadn’t meant to show his irritation, and he could see his flare of anger threw Grace off. “Hey, sorry. I’m just at my wits’ end with all these changes in Angela.”

      “Obviously this is a more difficult time in your daughter’s life than you’ve experienced before.”

      Which was true, Caleb thought. Calmer now, he said, “Hopefully my mother can get through to her. She has more influence with Angela than I do these days.” He took a slug of his tea, but it tasted sour going down. “Whatever it cost to remove the mural, I’m good for it. Just let me know how much.”

      “Don’t worry about it.”

      “I pay my own way.”

      “If you insist.”

      “I do.” He toyed with his glass, spinning it halfway around on the island. They were done here, but for some reason, he didn’t want Grace to leave yet. Didn’t want to be alone to torture himself with what-ifs about his daughter. So, he said, “I want you to know I admire the work you’re doing at Green Meadows.”

      “Thank you. It’s been a challenge, but very rewarding.”

      “How did you get interested in green living?”

      “I’ve always enjoyed the outdoors. Hiking. Biking. Boating.” Things her father didn’t care about and didn’t like her doing. “So I started looking for ways to help keep the planet healthy. Recycling. Composting. Adding little things to make my place earth-friendly.”

      “Sounds like a great start. Not everyone is open to change.” Another thing to appreciate about her.

      “Until now, our company built single-family homes and moderate-sized apartment buildings. Then Dad got this idea to create a whole development in an area that had open spaces but was still commuter distance from cities like Kenosha and Milwaukee. A place where people could live while they worked and then could retire in comfort. He’s been thinking about that a lot lately—retiring.”

      Caleb realized her tone shifted on that last thought, as if it bothered her. “And he wanted it to be a green community?”

      She shook her head. “That was my doing. I’d been reading about ways to build green, and I got on board. Not everyone in Sparrow Lake seems to be in love with the idea of the new development, but I think most people are coming around.”

      “I was eager to see what would happen when I heard about the proposal. I teach environmental studies at the community college.”

      “Really. Oh, I love it! I should take one of your classes.”

      Her sudden enthusiasm made him smile. “We’re two-thirds of the way through spring semester now, but you can sign up for a course this summer. They start at the beginning of June. Well, if you’ll still be here then.”

      “I will be here, at least until fall, so I’ll keep that in mind,” she said. “We’re just completing a half-dozen town houses. And starting the landscaping with an environmental company. The woman in charge lives in Sparrow Lake. Maybe you know her. Heather Scofield.”

      “I do. I mean, I don’t know Heather well, but she took a couple of my classes, and we’ve talked a bit at some regional environmental meetings.”

      “Have you taken a personal look at Green Meadows?” Grace asked. “I mean, other than this morning.”

      “No, haven’t had the opportunity.”

      “Let me know when you have some time available. I’d be happy to give you the grand tour.”

      “Thanks. Real nice of you.” He noticed her glass was empty. “Can I refill that?”

      “Thanks, but no. I should get going.” She slid off her chair. “I need to get to the office.”

      Caleb rose and walked her to the door. “Thanks for bringing Angela’s supplies. And for taking care of the cleanup. And most of all, for being concerned about my daughter.”

      “No problem. If there’s anything I can do to help...”

      “...I’ll let you know.”

      She left. Caleb remained at the window and watched as she got into her car and drove away.

      An interesting and compassionate woman.

      One he hoped to see again.

      Soon.

      * * *

      GRACE LEFT THE Blackthorne property but couldn’t get thoughts of Caleb out of her mind. He intrigued her. He seemed to be a strong man, one who would do anything to protect his daughter. Not unlike what her father had done for her when she was a teenager.

      Despite the fact that it was a Saturday, she headed for the office, admiring an open field full of dandelions as she passed. She bet that the country roads around here sported wildflowers and all kinds of new growth. Birds would be making nests. She only wished she had time to drive around and look. The weekdays were so busy. There was always so much to catch up on.

      They’d rented a storefront with offices for both her and her father in Sparrow Lake proper, directly on Main Street. She passed Nellie’s Treasures and a little farther down, Sew Fine, the quilting shop. The Walworth Builders satellite office was on the next block, directly across from The Busy Corner, which served a great breakfast and a decent lunch. After parking in a reserved space behind her office building, she entered, wondering if her father had heard about that morning’s excitement at the development.

      “Morning, Carol,” she said.

      “Grace, there you are, thank goodness.”

      The

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