One Snowy Night (Sweet Home, Alaska #1) - Patience Griffin Page 0,10

accommodated all the members of the Sisterhood of the Quilt and their sewing machines. But now the long tables sat empty, devoid of sewing machines, notions, and fabric. Everything else was in its place—a stack of patterns on a side table, a scattering of pincushions, and some dust-covered scissors. The floor was still littered with fabric scraps from one of Nan’s sewing sprees. The white walls had gleamed back then but were dingy now. The love and laughter from this room were just a faded memory, too.

He and Beau had always been welcome when the Sisterhood of the Quilt gathered, as the motherless Stone boys needed some mothering, according to the ladies—but it had felt a bit like smothering. The two brothers had been taught, under duress, how to use a sewing machine while both of them complained loudly. But they’d made superhero capes and had learned how to hem their own jeans. Nan would laugh, reminiscing about how she’d made Grandpa learn to sew before she agreed to marry him. Charles, you need to learn to take care of yourself. In case anything ever happens to me. At the memory, Donovan choked up. Something did happen to his grandmother—Beau’s death. Grandpa spent long years alone after Nan’s heart gave out. Heartbroken over Beau. At least now his grandparents were together again . . . in heaven.

And now, it was Donovan who was left alone. The pup at his feet growled. Okay, maybe not completely alone.

Next, they traveled to his grandmother’s office, which had once been a closet. Like the sewing room, this room had been left untouched. Donovan sat in the chair and looked around, trying to see the things Nan saw when she sat here. But something was amiss. All the newspaper clippings tacked to the wall—articles about quilt shows, first-prize quilts, and fabric sale sheets—were placed neatly, organized, one against another. But over the top of these articles was an old newspaper clipping that had been tacked at an angle, making Donovan wonder if it had been placed there in anger . . . by his grandfather, after Nan had died.

Donovan pulled it from its place and read the headline: MADD Expands into Sweet Home. The article was dated six months after Beau’s death. He skimmed the rest, seeing that Hope’s mom had founded a chapter of MADD in their area. Not only that, but Penny McKnight had forced the city council to declare the town dry.

For a moment, Donovan couldn’t believe Penny would start up MADD, because it felt like a slam against Hope. But he’d seen people do strange things when they were grieving. Just look at how he had walked away from his town, his family, and his friends without glancing back. Grandpa wasn’t the angry type, but Donovan could imagine his grandfather pinning this article here in his grief, saying, Too little, too late.

Donovan tacked the newspaper clipping back on the wall, aching for a drink to dull his senses. Man, he really needed cell service to call his sponsor. He wondered if he’d have to make the long haul back to Anchorage just to catch a meeting.

First, though, he needed to head into town to get some dog food, the last thing he’d thought he’d be buying when he woke this morning. Begrudgingly he picked up the puppy and headed for the door. He was in no mood to be chatty, and once he got to town, he hoped like hell he didn’t run into anyone he knew.

Chapter 2

HOPE TIED HER boots, pulled her parka over her polo, and then headed for the Hungry Bear. When Piney had texted this morning, telling her not to come in until three, anyone else might’ve welcomed the extra time off. Not Hope. The utility bill was due Friday and there wasn’t enough in her account for the automatic withdrawal. After work tonight, she’d have to use the Hungry Bear’s Internet to remove the autopay, then call the electric company to tell them she could make a partial payment and pay the rest later, something she’d done before.

Hope didn’t begrudge Piney. October was the off-season. Actually, Sweet Home didn’t have an on-season anymore. Not since the quirky A Stone’s Throw Hardware & Haberdashery closed and people stopped coming to town to see it, and since Home Sweet Home Lodge stopped bringing in fishermen and outdoor enthusiasts, making things dire in Sweet Home during the winter. The Hungry Bear had to support three employees—Piney, Sparkle, and Hope.