sweet girl. I hope you slept well.”
“Quite soundly. I suppose being exhausted from getting ready to move and then the tension of yesterday wore me out.”
“People always sleep better in Pleasant,” Emma said complacently. “No bright streetlights except a couple on Main Street and a street corner here and there, no traffic noise, no airplanes arriving and taking off, and all the gorgeous, mature trees—it’s like a cocoon, protected from the rest of the world.”
“I appreciate that, I…”
A knock on the door interrupted the conversation. Will Tanner strode in, dark hair still damp and curling from the shower, a night’s growth of beard shadowing his jawline. “Good morning, ladies. How are things today?” His gaze went directly to Catherine.
She looked as if she’d lost ten pounds overnight, he observed. Her cheeks were hollow and there were dark smudges beneath her eyes. She sat at the kitchen table in well-washed jeans that had seen better years and a simple white T-shirt. Her long blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail that made her look like a teenager. She’d tucked her feet beneath her and held a large coffee mug in her hands. She lifted it to her face to inhale the aroma and breathed deeply.
Will had never wanted to rescue someone from sadness so badly in his life. Except Charley, of course, but Charley was family. His sister Annie’s blood ran in his veins.
“Morning, Will. I thought you’d be by.” Emma held up a carafe. “Coffee?”
“Don’t mind if I do.” Maybe a jolt of caffeine would take the edge off his fuzziness. He’d dreamed all night of Abigail and the plans they’d had together.
In the dream he and Abigail sat at her kitchen table as they always did, discussing the house and the forever-growing list of restoration projects he was to tackle.
“Will,” she would say, “promise me that whatever happens, you’ll finish this house.” Her expression was intent. “Don’t get itchy feet. Please say that you’ll stay here until it’s done.”
“Abigail, there’s no reason for me to leave you. The house will be done. I promise. I’m not a quitter.”
“Refurbishing this house is my gift to the Stanhope family. I married my husband, Charles, as a very young woman and it changed everything about my life.” Abigail’s eyes would flash with resolve and she’d squeeze his hand so tightly that it almost hurt.
Then she’d stare straight into his eyes and say, “The Stanhopes were generous to a fault. They helped to mold me into who I am today. I will be forever grateful for the way they took me in as a true daughter. And they loved Hope House, as I grew to.”
He was ready to reassure her again that he wasn’t planning to go anywhere when he woke and realized that Abigail was gone. By dawn he knew with complete certainty what he had to do. She’d given him not only a job but a place to live—a cozy apartment in the guesthouse, a stable home for his nephew, Charley, and as a result, a renewed purpose for his life. If ever he was to claim Charley as his own son, a real home was imperative. The town was safe, idyllic and friendly, perfect for a growing child, and their place was small but comfortable—no matter what his sister-in-law thought. He was tired of continually locking horns with Sheila on the matter. He had to restore the house as Abigail had asked. It was imperative that he make a home for his little boy.
Then an unsettling thought occurred to him. What had Abigail told her granddaughter of her plans? Catherine owned the house now. She could sell it or turn it into a gift shop or any fool thing she wanted.
Still, even in death, Abigail was a force to be reckoned with. He would do what he’d promised her.
He looked up to see Emma and Catherine staring at him expectantly. How long had his mind drifted?
“Sorry. I didn’t sleep very well last night.” He looked at Catherine. “Did you?”
“I think it felt less like sleep and more like a coma,” she admitted. “I was already on my way to Pleasant for some badly needed R&R…” As she said it, she looked troubled.
There was more to this woman than met the eye, Will sensed. He hoped he’d get to know her well enough to learn what made her tick.
Catherine felt uncomfortable beneath Will’s intent gaze. “Tell me more about what you did for Gram,” she suggested.
“I’m doing a lot of carpentry work right now, as you probably already know. It was your grandmother’s dream that Hope House be preserved for posterity. I’ve been helping her restore the place.”
No, she didn’t know. Catherine couldn’t recall her grandmother saying that to her. Of course, Gram had traveled to Minneapolis for their visits and Hope House was rarely a topic of conversation.
Now she knew why he seemed so at ease in this house. There was a time when she felt she was Abigail’s primary confidant. Will had been here for Gram and she hadn’t. She’d trade it all for an hour with her now.
“I live in the guesthouse,” he added as if it were an afterthought.
Catherine blinked. Gram hadn’t mentioned that either.
“I’m a relatively recent addition to the property.” Tanner looked amused by her surprise. “Six months, remember? Living in the guesthouse is part of my payment for my work. Abigail and I struck a deal.”
What exactly did that mean?
He thrust his hands into his pockets. “It was my understanding that she was going to surprise you when you arrived. From what I gathered, Abigail was sure you’d be pleased because you’d grown up here and your family home had so much history.”
He gave her a shrewd stare. “She thought you felt the same way about Hope House that she did.”
Will might as well have pounded a stake into her heart. Of course she loved Hope House! But her life was very different from Gram’s. What’s more, she’d been away from home except for summer breaks and visits since she was eighteen years old. She loved Pleasant and Hope House, but it was part of her past, not her future. Maybe it was a good thing that Gram hadn’t understood that. It might have hurt her to know they weren’t on the same page.
“How did you and my grandmother meet?”
“Through my cousin, who reroofed the house a year ago. She called him when she was looking for help with the renovating and he suggested me. I went uptown for supplies. I’m on my way to Hope House to work right now,” Will said. “Do you want to come back with me?”
“I’d like that. I’ll be right back.” She could feel Will and Emma watching her as she left the kitchen. It was as if they were worried about her. Especially Will.
That was puzzling. She’d just met the man and knew very little about him other than he was a very handsome man. And, of course, Abigail had liked him. She hoped Gram was right to put her faith in him.
She returned wearing the same jeans and T-shirt with a powder-blue sweatshirt. She’d pulled her long tumble of hair into a knot at the base of her neck. On her feet was a pair of her favorite flip-flops.
It occurred to her that for the first time in months she felt
