Daddy.” The oldest triplet looked angelic as he stopped his sneaker in midair, about to crunch right through the cookies and shattered pottery.
He caught Ian by the shoulder, Kale by the arm and was grateful for Josh who clambered after them, muttering an amen to end his prayer. The mess would wait. The boys would have to change at Mom’s.
Lord knew, this was all a balancing act. Every morning wasn’t as bad as this, but then he was used to having a housekeeper. With three three-year-olds, it made a big difference having another adult to run interference.
Matthew locked the door and herded the boys toward the black pickup in the gravel drive. He opened the door, and the scent of Hope Ashton’s perfume—light and pretty—lingered, a faint reminder that she’d sat beside him on the ride to town. Longing swept through him. Not for Hope, but for a woman gone from his life forever.
It had been over two long years since he’d smelled the pleasing gentleness of a woman’s perfume in his truck. Two years had passed since he’d buried Kathy, and he still wasn’t over his grief.
And how could he? There would never be another woman who would make his heart brighter, his life better.
Kathy had been his once-in-a-lifetime, a gift of love that a man was lucky to know at all. Something that miraculous didn’t happen twice.
It just didn’t.
Chest tight, he buckled Josh into the remaining car seat and hopped into the cab.
“I’m so glad I have the committee meeting today,” Nanna announced as the new day’s sun tossed a cheerful pattern across the quilt. “I’ll take any excuse I can to get out of this house.”
“I thought you were supposed to be on bed rest. How are we going to get you to town if your doctor’s orders are to keep you right here?” Hope slid open the closet door.
“We could always drive. It’s easier than hobbling. I’m still not used to those crutches.”
“Very funny.” Hope pulled out a blue summer dress. “This would look nice. Before I take you anywhere, I’m checking with your doctor.”
“You worry too much, and I want the yellow dress. The flirty one.”
“Flirty? You’re in your sixties. You shouldn’t be flirting.”
“That’s what you think.” Nanna’s chuckle was a merry one. “Howard Renton joined the planning committee last month. Both Sadie and Helen made fools of themselves fighting to sit next to him. But I think I won him with my charm.”
“Wear the yellow but don’t flirt. Too much.” Hope laid the cheerful sundress on the foot of the bed. “Isn’t that what you used to tell me?”
“Hope, you’re twenty-nine years old. You’re supposed to be flirting.”
“I’m supposed to, huh? Is there some unwritten law or something?”
“Go ahead and pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. You’re going to let the best years of your life slip away alone without a man to love you.”
“I didn’t fly all the way from Rome and drive down from the closest airport through a terrible storm to hear that kind of advice.”
“Well, then what kind do you want to hear?”
“The kind that doesn’t have anything to do with getting me married off.” Hope unzipped the dress and lifted it from the hanger. “’God gives to some the gift of marriage, and to others he gives the gift of singleness.’”
“’And the Lord God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a companion who will help him.”’” Nanna lifted her arms as Hope slipped the dress over her head. “It’s not good for a woman to be alone, either.”
“So, the person who marries does well, and the person who doesn’t marry does even better.” Hope smoothed the dress over her grandmother’s back. “I think I’ve proven my point.”
“You’ve proven nothing. Love is one of God’s greatest gifts. Don’t let your life pass you by without knowing it.” Nanna’s hand brushed hers with warmth. “Goodness, this dress makes me feel young. Fix my hair for me.”
“Do you want it up or down?”
Nanna squinted into the mirror against the far wall. “Down.”
Hope reached for the brush and started working. “Tell me more about this man you and your friends are fighting over.”
“He’s moved back to town after being away for what, nearly twenty years. He wanted to be close to what remains of his family. Sad, it is. You didn’t hear about the tragedy, did you? Lost his son, daughter-in-law and two of his grandchildren in a small plane crash a few years back. In fact, one of the grandchildren was Matthew Sheridan’s wife.”
The brush slipped from her fingers. “I didn’t know.”
“Lucky thing, one of the boys got sick right before the plane took off, so she left the children with Matthew. He was devastated. It shook all of us to the core, I tell you. We lost a lot of friends that day.”
Matthew lost his wife and the mother of his children. Her chest tightened. She remembered how he’d seen her safely home last night. And remembered the loneliness in his eyes. “It’s strange to be here after being gone for so many years. All the people I know are much older now. So much has happened to them.”
“And your classmates grown up and married.” Nanna’s eyes sparkled. “Everyone except you.”
“Surely not everyone’s married. There has to be a few people in this town as smart as I am.” She winked at Nanna’s reflection in the big, beveled mirror.
“You mean as misguided. I think your old friend Karen McKaslin isn’t married yet. Now, don’t get your hopes up. Her wedding is scheduled for sometime this fall.”
“A mistake.” Hope shook her head. “I’ll have to give her a call and see if I can’t wisen her up.”
Nanna laughed. “Tease all you want. You never know when the lovebug will bite.”
“Lovebug?” Hope reached for a headband on the edge of the nightstand. “If love is a bug, then all I need is a good can of pesticide.”
“Really, Hope. You’re impossible.” Nanna’s hand caught hers, warm and accepting, as always. “And no, I won’t change your mind. I’ll let God do that.”
“What’s He gonna do? Send a lovebug?”
“You never know. There are a few handsome men in this town looking for the right woman to share their lives with.”
“Oh, there are men, all right, but I don’t think marriage is what they’re looking for.”
“Then you’ve been living in all the wrong places.” Nanna winked, then caught her reflection in the mirror. “Oh, Hope. Why, this is wonderful. I hardly recognize myself.”
“You
