Just Like Home - Courtney Walsh Page 0,49

jeans and a solid-colored shirt, and she still had her familiar maternal let me love you forever expression on her face.

Hildy glanced at Charlotte. “I must say, this is a happy surprise. I’d given up on our Cole ever finding a new girl.”

He coughed. “Uh, Hildy, this is Charlotte,” he said. “Charlotte, this is Hildy Hawthorne. She and her husband, Steve, run this place.”

Charlotte stuck her hand out for what appeared to be a firm handshake, something Hildy didn’t do. The older woman opened her arms and pulled Charlotte into a close hug. Charlotte, he noticed, seemed uncomfortable, even standoffish, by the gesture.

Maybe the two of them weren’t so different after all.

Hildy glanced at her watch. “It’s past breakfast time, but I’ve got homemade sticky buns inside.”

“I always have room for sticky buns,” he said.

She smiled. “Come in, let me feed you and you can tell me how you two met.”

“Uh, we’re not a couple, Hildy,” Cole said miserably.

Hildy stopped, narrow eyes darting from Cole to Charlotte and back again. “Huh,” she said, as if it were a complete sentence. She motioned for them to follow her inside, and as soon as they crossed the threshold into the farmhouse, a vivid memory returned. It happened every time he came through the door.

In a flash, he was an angry teenager again, standing on the porch of this old place with his sister, watching their dad drive away. On his back, he carried a reluctantly packed bag with nothing inside but a pair of jeans, three T-shirts, socks, underwear, and a hoodie.

And then he heard three words that would forever change his life. “I’m Miss Hildy,” followed by five words it had taken him a long time to believe—“It’s going to be okay.”

He’d spent the night in the dark bedroom, fighting tears and trying not to punch a hole in the wall. It wasn’t okay—his dad had abandoned him only months after his mom had left. Who did that?

In the morning, the smell of cinnamon and sugar lured him from slumber. He’d gone downstairs and learned that things at Haven House weren’t like they were at home. There were homecooked meals and chore charts and board games and horseback rides. There was gardening and cleaning and mending and fixing—and those last two were more about hearts than they were about houses and land.

Steve and Hildy took them in when no one else wanted them. They showed Cole how it felt to be loved when his parents were unable to.

Even now, all these years later, it overwhelmed him how much goodness he’d discovered within these four walls. Steve and Hildy made him believe in the goodness of God again. They made him believe in himself. Without them, without Haven House—he had a feeling he would be a very different person.

They followed her into the sun-colored kitchen, where the little girl sat at the table with an open book and an empty plate.

“This is Jewel,” Hildy said. “She’s new to us this month. We’re working on her letters.”

Jewel looked at the two of them, a skeptical expression on her face.

“Sounds fun,” Charlotte said.

“It’s not,” Jewel said.

Charlotte walked over to the girl and looked at the book she was writing in. “I had a book just like that when I was your age.”

Cole wondered how Charlotte could tell the girl’s age. He taught high school, so the little ones all kind of blended together.

“You did?” the girl asked.

Charlotte nodded. “I did all my schoolwork at home.”

“Like home-schooled?”

Another nod.

“Why? Didn’t you like real school?”

“Well, I was dancing most days when kids were going to school.”

“Dancing?” Jewel’s eyes lit up. “Like a ballerina?”

Charlotte smiled. “Yes, exactly like that.” Her eyes found Cole’s, and he realized he was staring. There was that dreaded curiosity again. Was he staring at her like she was an alien? Because she certainly had an other-worldly quality about her.

He wished, and not for the first time that day, that he’d paid more attention to Julianna when she talked about dance. Maybe then Charlotte would be less interesting to him.

All he really remembered was how broken-hearted Jules had been when she left the ballet. He didn’t know what had happened, but whatever it was, it convinced her she wasn’t good enough to continue as a professional dancer. He hated seeing her like that—depressed and beaten. It wasn’t like his sister to be either.

And then the relationship with Connor happened and he helped her find a new dream, sending her life down a completely different

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