Expecting a Miracle. Jackie Braun

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and Holden would have, which perhaps explained why she’d never shared her dream with any of them.

      “Thanks.”

      Gavin’s brow crinkled. “For what?”

      “For…for letting me paint the cottage.”

      CHAPTER FOUR

      LAUREN had never been in a hardware store. Neither her father nor her husband was the sort to attempt any kind of home repair. The one in Gabriel’s Crossing, however, reminded her of something from a movie, complete with a couple of older men sitting on a bench in the shade of the porch. If they’d been chewing tobacco or whittling sticks she wouldn’t have been surprised. It turned out they were eating sunflower seeds and helping each other with a crossword puzzle. One of them apparently was the owner. He stood and shook Gavin’s hand.

      “Haven’t seen you in a while. I was beginning to wonder if you’d finally given up on that old house and moved back to the city.” His eyes crinkled with a grin after he said it.

      “Never. I finish what I start, Pat. Besides, someone has to keep you in business.”

      “And don’t think I don’t appreciate it.”

      Gavin turned toward Lauren then. “Lauren, this is Pat Montgomery.”

      “Nice to meet you, Mr. Montgomery.”

      “No need to stand on formality here. It’s just Pat.” He divided a speculative look between them. “So, will you be visiting the area for long?”

      “Actually, I’m not visiting. I’ve moved here…at least temporarily.”

      “Lauren’s renting the cottage on my property,” Gavin supplied.

      “You don’t say.” The man’s woolly eyebrows inched up, and his mouth twitched with a grin.

      Lauren felt her cheeks grow warm. She had a good idea what he was thinking, and her pregnancy hadn’t become obvious yet. Thankfully Gavin came to her rescue.

      “Lauren was looking for a retreat from the city. Her husband will be joining her.”

      She’d left Gavin with that impression, she realized. Lying wasn’t in her nature, nor was omitting the truth. Still, it seemed the wisest course of action at the moment. So, when Pat said, “I’m sure you and your husband will enjoy Gabriel’s Crossing. It’s a nice place to get away to,” she replied, “Yes, I’m sure we’ll enjoy it here.”

      “Paint’s down that first aisle,” Gavin said, pointing to the far side of the store. “I’ll load up the two-by-fours while you make your selection.”

      “Okay.”

      About twenty minutes passed as she pored over paint chips. Lauren knew the exact moment Gavin came up behind her. She didn’t hear his footsteps. Rather, she smelled soap. And though she wasn’t quite sure how, she felt his presence. She was probably being silly, but something about him was welcoming, comforting. She wouldn’t allow herself to consider the other descriptions that came to mind.

      “I’ve narrowed it down to these two shades,” she said before turning. “I’ve read that green is a relaxing color, perfect for promoting a peaceful night’s sleep.”

      “One of the walls in my bedroom is red. Well, officially, crimson. I wonder what that’s supposed to promote.” Humor danced in his eyes. Humor and something else.

      She swallowed the other completely inappropriate answers that came to mind and said, “Insomnia.”

      Gavin laughed and pushed a hand through his hair, leaving it in its usual disarray. “I don’t know about that. I sleep like a baby.”

      The mention of the word baby helped banish the last of Lauren’s wayward thoughts. “Sea foam.” She held the paint chip out in front of her as if she’d just drawn a dagger. “What do you think?”

      He gave the square of color his full attention. “It’s tranquil.”

      “Perfect.”

      His fingers brushed hers as he took the paint chip. “I’ll have Pat mix up a couple gallons and we can be on our way.”

      “Don’t forget, I owe you an ice cream cone.”

      “I haven’t forgotten.”

      As she watched him walk away, Lauren was left with the impression that Gavin O’Donnell was the sort of man who never forgot anything.

      “This is a popular spot today,” Gavin said when they arrived at the ice cream shop.

      The place was small with no inside seating. People were lined up six deep in front of the two order windows, and every available picnic table was filled. Children of varying sizes, apparently immune to the heat index, ran around on the lawn in an impromptu game of tag.

      As they made their way to the window, a boy of about five hurtled headlong into Gavin.

      “Whoa, partner,” Gavin said, steadying him.

      Another child took the opportunity to tag the boy’s back. “You’re it!” he hollered in glee.

      As the pair dashed away, Gavin glanced down at his shirt and grimaced at the mark that had been left behind. Lauren knew exactly what Holden’s reaction would have been upon seeing a chocolate smudge decorating the fabric of one of his shirts. For that matter, the child would not have gotten off without hearing a stern reprimand. But Gavin was merely shaking his head and chuckling wryly.

      “I guess I should have left my old clothes on.” He sent Lauren a wink as he grabbed napkins from a nearby tabletop dispenser and swiped at his ruined shirtfront. “This is what I get for trying to impress you.”

      He said it lightly, clearly joking. But Lauren was impressed, and it had nothing to do with what the man was wearing.

      “You’re very…” She said finally, “patient.”

      “It’s just a shirt and he’s just a kid.” He shrugged, as if that explained it all. Lauren supposed that in a way it did. Gavin’s easy-going reaction to the mishap summed up his personality.

      “You’d make a good dad.” She hadn’t meant to say that. At least not out loud. And certainly not on a sigh.

      Hearing the words didn’t send Gavin into panic mode. He nodded. “I hope to one day.”

      “You want children?”

      He looked slightly surprised by the question. “Not right now. But sure, eventually. Don’t you?”

      Lauren swallowed. The dashed dreams of the past and the miracle of the present clogged her throat. Before she could respond, a woman of about thirty rushed over to where they stood in line. She looked hot, harassed and, given the dark circles under her eyes, exhausted. And no wonder. She had a baby on one hip and a sticky-faced toddler in tow.

      “Gosh. I’m really sorry about that.” She motioned to the mark on

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