The Caregiver - By Shelley Shepard Gray Page 0,31

that Calvin is the most outgoing. Loyal is slightly more serious; and Graham, well, Graham is a more introspective sort of person,” she added with a secretive smile. Playfully, Mattie nudged her. “Well, don’t be shy, now. What did you and Calvin talk about?”

“This and that.”

“Such as . . .”

“We just talked, I guess. About our families some.”

“Did you tell him about Paul?”

“Of course not. I didn’t even tell him I had been married.”

Mattie raised her brows.

Lucy rushed to explain. “There was no need, you know. It’s not like my past matters to him.”

Over the rim of her mug, Mattie’s eyes twinkled. “Perhaps you two will spend more time together here.”

“I don’t think so.” Her feelings for Calvin were too confusing. The last thing she wanted was to see him again.

“We are neighbors. Of course your paths are bound to cross.”

“He is not the reason I came to Ohio,” she said firmly, gently wrapping an arm around her cousin’s shoulders, enveloping her in a loose hug. “You are the person I want to spend time with.”

“All right.” Mattie clasped one of Lucy’s hands.

Lucy wrapped her other palm around Mattie’s, completely covering her hand. Oh, but Mattie felt so fragile and weak.

A lump formed in her throat. This girl was so different from the Mattie she’d known and loved every summer and Christmas when their families got together. That Mattie was boisterous and fun, almost a practical joker. Always the center of attention, whether she wanted to be or not.

This Mattie was quieter. Right then and there, Lucy made it her goal to help her cousin get back her old spark. “We are going to be busy, Mattie,” she said gently. “In between your doctors’ appointments and chemotherapy treatments, I’m going to make you laugh.”

The muscles in her throat worked as Mattie obviously tried to keep her voice light. “You may regret your vow.”

“Why is that?”

“I’m afraid I haven’t been the easiest patient. I’ve been moody and sullen.” With a thump, Mattie set her mug down. “At times, I fear my parents have not known what to do with me.”

“If you were easy, you wouldn’t be Mattie.”

When her cousin’s expression turned shocked, then offended, then very slowly turned to a spark of amusement, Lucy leaned back on the couch and grinned in relief.

Yes, getting Mattie through this difficult time was going to take all of her energy and a whole lot of prayer. But perhaps they would be successful.

It was just as well she wouldn’t be seeing Calvin Weaver again. She had no time for him.

No time at all.

Chapter 13

John held out his hands to prevent the woman from knocking straight into him. “Hey,” he said. “Look out, now.”

His touch startled her. With a frown, she froze, and finally looked up from her cell phone.

And that’s when he noticed her eyes were . . . violet? Who had violet eyes?

“Oh my gosh! Did I just walk right into you? I’m so sorry.”

Her voice was musical. Slightly southern sounding. His mouth went dry. But because he was way too old for such nonsense, he dropped his hands and stepped a good three steps backward. “It’s all right. I just didn’t want you to get hurt.” When she blinked at him and smiled slightly, he shook himself and tried to sound reasonable. Not smitten. “I mean, you probably shouldn’t text and walk. At the same time. You’re liable to run into someone.”

Great, now he couldn’t even form complete sentences.

Closing her phone, she shook her head in obvious frustration. With the motion, her short hair, as brown as a Hershey bar, shifted and flickered in the sunlight. Catching his attention. “This thing. My niece keeps trying to teach me how to use that predictive text. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t do it right.”

“It takes some practice.”

Gazing at him with wide eyes, she asked, “Do you know how to do it?”

“Ah, not well enough to teach you.”

“Oh. That’s really too bad.”

Yes. It was too bad. He was attracted to her and didn’t have a single reason to keep the conversation going. But he could try. Holding out his hand, he introduced himself. “I’m John Weaver.”

“Jayne Donovan.” She smiled, revealing beautiful white teeth. The perfect match to her beautiful eyes. Her hand was slim and cool in his.

He stopped himself from rubbing his thumb over her smooth skin.

Oh, brother. John felt his cheeks heat. “I just moved here.”

“Why?”

Who asked questions like that? “I once lived here. I decided to come back.” Yep,