in the heart of the Texas hill country. She’d heard it was a beautiful region, but she’d barely seen anything she’d driven past.
The thought of just sitting, without anything to do, was making her crazy. Maybe she could walk off some of her nervous energy.
Stopping at the antique breakfront that served as a desk, Leah rang the bell. Annie, the B and B owner, popped out of the adjoining kitchen, wiping her hands on a cloth. She was more than happy to forward any messages to Leah’s cell phone.
The air was clear, delivering early spring’s promise of new life, as Leah walked down the old-fashioned boardwalk. Tall elm trees shaded the street. The buildings belonged to a different era, she realized. Enchanting Victorian structures, which all housed working businesses.
She passed a quaint drugstore, hardware store, costume shop and newspaper office before reaching Whitakers Woods. She lingered in front of the wide-paned window, but didn’t see a man inside. The door opened and a customer stepped out.
The woman Leah had met earlier called out to her. “Hi, there!”
Leah walked inside. “Hello…”
“I’m Nan,” she said with a smile. “Should have introduced myself earlier. Matt was here sooner than I thought and I gave him your card.”
“Great! Then I guess I’ll be hearing from him soon.”
Nan nodded. “Oh, my, yes. Matt’s real good about getting back to people.”
Relieved, Leah smiled. “That’s wonderful. Thanks for your help.”
“Glad to do it. You settling in at Annie’s?”
“Yes. It’s a charming place. Like the town.”
“Thing is, it’s a real town, not put on for tourists like some places. No T-shirt and souvenir shops. Not that we don’t welcome visitors, but this is our home.”
“I got that sense right away.”
“Good. Hope you have a nice stay.”
Leah crossed her fingers. “I’m counting on it.”
Matt sat at his kitchen table staring at Leah’s card. It had to be her. It all fit. L.A. The box John had taken from him…along with Matt’s savings.
“Kyle” she’d called him. Kyle Johnson.
His half brother had always hated his real name. John Litchkyl Johnson. Litchkyl, their mother’s maiden name. He’d been John all his life in Rosewood. His hick life, he’d called it. He must have gone by Kyle once he’d gotten to California and married Leah.
But why was she here now?
She’d abandoned John and their baby when Danny was only six weeks old. What kind of woman did that? Only the lowest kind.
And she had money, John had said. Enough to have hired nannies, people to help out, to make raising her child as easy as possible. Instead she’d left. Said she didn’t want the responsibility of a kid.
Matt could still feel the weight of that tiny bundle in his arms the first time he’d held Danny, the clutch of little fingers around his own. The promise he’d made.
He knew John had his faults. His half brother had been immature, irresponsible. But he also knew that a child belonged with his parents. At least the one who cared enough to stay with him. John had abandoned his own dreams of making it in California to come back to Rosewood where his only family remained. Their mother had passed on when John was sixteen, and John’s father had died years before. Matt was all he had left.
And though he’d never expected to be part of raising a baby, Matt had fallen in love with Danny at first sight. That had never changed.
But the family dynamics had changed almost immediately. While Matt was still learning how to clean up diapers and mix formula, there was the car accident.
And then it was just the two of them. An ill-prepared bachelor and a motherless child. That’s when Matt made the promise he never intended to break.
And he’d built two cradles. One for the house, one for the shop. So he could watch over Danny, protect him. That wasn’t going to stop. He would do anything, give anything to keep his boy safe. Even if it meant taking over as the only father Danny would ever remember. Oh, he’d tell Danny the truth when he was old enough to understand. And he knew none of his neighbors would dare bring up the sensitive subject. Yes, he would keep Danny safe. Even if that meant keeping him from his own mother.
Chapter Two
“Are you sure there aren’t any messages for me?” Leah asked.
Annie shook her head. “I’m sorry. I double-checked. If I’m out, I have an answering machine. Locals are usually pretty good about leaving messages. I can’t be as sure about out-of-towners…”
“It’s local. Whitaker Woods.”
“Oh, they’re really good about getting back to you.” Annie smiled. “Matt’s stuff is special, isn’t it? People find out about his furniture, drive up here from all over. Usually Nan is at the store most of the time, though.”
“Actually, I need to speak to Mr. Whitaker.”
“I’m surprised he hasn’t followed up with you since yesterday.” Annie glanced at the clock. It was after seven. “Wow. It’s been a day and a half. That’s really not like him. Have you talked to Nan?”
“Repeatedly. Seems he’s out on a commission job.”
Annie nodded sympathetically. “Matt works like an artist, gets all caught up in what he does.” She pointed across the room. “See that bench? He recreated it from some fuzzy old photos for my grandfather. Took great care with every detail. The original was lost in a fire. It was a wedding present to Gramps from my great-grandparents. And it meant so much to him when Matt was able to make another one. He said it brought Granny closer to him those last years.” Annie cleared her throat. “Anyway, like I said, Matt becomes really caught up in his projects.”
Leah understood, but it wasn’t getting her any closer to talking with him. “Thanks anyway.”
Climbing the stairs back to her room, she couldn’t help but wonder. Matt usually got back to people quickly. So, why wasn’t he getting back to her?
At breakfast the next morning, Leah dawdled over her French toast.
“Do you want another slice?” Annie offered.
“No, thanks. It’s delicious, but I shouldn’t be eating anything this rich for breakfast.”
Annie chuckled. “The guests usually say that. But they rarely order anything else after they try it. It was my grandmother’s recipe.”
“I’m guessing you were close to your grandparents.”
“This was their place. The one that didn’t burn down.” Annie lifted the coffeepot. “More coffee?”
“Since
