Can't Hurry Love (Sunshine Valley #1) - Melinda Curtis Page 0,137

brows subtly lifted.

“See, it pays to hang around me.” Paris started the engine. “I was thinking we could stop in and check on Mrs. Townsend first.”

Lacy pointed a finger at him. “I love that idea, even though I’m on to you, Paris Montgomery. You’re really just procrastinating because you’re scared of Mr. Jenson.”

He grimaced as he drove toward the Sweetwater hospital. “That’s probably true.”

They chatted easily as he drove, discussing all of Lacy’s plans for the library this summer. She talked excitedly about her work, which he found all kinds of attractive. Then he pulled into the hospital parking lot, and they both got out.

“We shouldn’t go see Mrs. Townsend empty-handed,” Lacy said as they walked toward the main entrance.

“We can swing by the gift shop before we go up,” he suggested.

“Good idea. She likes magazines, so I’ll get her a couple. I hope Abby and Willow are okay. It had to be confusing for them, watching their nanny being taken away in an ambulance.”

“The girls only have one parent?” he asked.

“Their mother isn’t around,” Lacy told him.

Paris slid his gaze over. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but he asked anyway. “What happened to their mom?” He’d heard a lot of stories from his foster siblings growing up. There were so many reasons for a parent to slip out of the picture. His story was rather boring in comparison to some. His parents didn’t like abiding by the law, which left him needing supplementary care at times. Then they’d decided that another thing they didn’t like was taking care of him.

“Their mother left right after Willow was born. There was speculation that maybe she had postpartum depression.”

Paris swallowed as they veered into the gift shop. “It’s good that they have Granger. He seems like a good dad.”

“I think so too. And what kid wouldn’t want to grow up on a Christmas tree farm? I mean, that’s so cool.” Lacy beelined toward the magazine rack in the back of the shop, picking out three. They also grabbed some chocolates at the register.

Bag of presents in hand, they left the shop and took the elevator up to the third floor to Mrs. Townsend’s room. Lacy knocked, and they waited for Mrs. Townsend’s voice to answer back, telling them to “come in.”

“Oh, Lacy! You didn’t have to spend your Saturday coming to see me,” Mrs. Townsend said as they entered her room. “And you brought a friend.”

“Mrs. Townsend, this is Paris Montgomery. He did CPR on you in the library yesterday.”

Mrs. Townsend’s eyes widened. “I didn’t even know I needed CPR. How embarrassing. But thank you,” she told Paris. “I guess you were instrumental in saving my life.”

“It was no big deal,” he said.

“To the woman who’s still alive today it is.” Mrs. Townsend looked at Lacy again, her gaze dropping to the bag in her hand. “What do you have?”

“Oh, yes.” Lacy pulled the magazines out and offered them to Mrs. Townsend, along with the chocolates.

Mrs. Townsend looked delighted by the gifts. “Oh my goodness. Thank you so much.”

“Are you doing okay?” Lacy asked.

Mrs. Townsend waved a hand. “The doctors here have been taking good care of me. They tell me I can go home tomorrow.”

Lacy smiled. “That’s good news.”

“Yes, it is. And I’ll be caring for the girls again on Monday. A little flutter in the heart won’t keep me from doing what I love.”

Lacy’s gaze slid to meet Paris’s as worry creased her brow. He resisted reaching for her hand in a calming gesture. His intentions would be innocent, but they could also confuse things. He and Lacy were only out today as friends. Nothing more.

They stayed and chatted a while longer and then left, riding down the elevator in silence. Paris and Lacy walked side by side back to his truck. He opened the passenger side door for her again and then got into the driver’s seat.

“I’m glad Mrs. Townsend is okay,” Lacy said as they pulled back onto the main road and drove toward Blueberry Creek Road, where Albert Jenson lived.

“Me too,” Paris told her.

“But what happens next time?”

“Hopefully there won’t be a next time.”

“And if there is, hopefully you’ll be around,” Lacy said. Something about her tone made him wonder if she wanted to keep him around for herself too.

A few minutes later, he turned onto Mr. Jenson’s street and traveled alongside Blueberry Creek. His heart quickened as he pulled into Mr. Jenson’s driveway.

“I can’t believe he walks from here to the library,” Lacy said