One Snowy Night (Sweet Home, Alaska #1) - Patience Griffin Page 0,13
until closing.
There was a steady stream of last-minuters, picking up tidbits for tonight’s dinner and tomorrow’s lunch. At five to five, a tall man in a parka came through the door with a puppy peeking out of his jacket.
Hope reached forward to pet the dog. “Hey, cutie, what’s your name?”
The man pushed back his hood and Donovan emerged. At least a version of the Donovan she’d known.
Donovan appeared as shocked as she was.
Every emotion hit her—surprise, happiness, regret, longing for the life she gave up long ago. And on top of everything else, utter embarrassment, as she was dressed in this-is-all-I-have-to-wear-as-I’m-out-of-clean-clothes-and-I’m-doing-laundry-at-Piney’s-tomorrow.
Perhaps the greatest shock to her system was seeing that the boy she’d loved with all her heart had turned into a man. She barely recognized him. His smiling blue eyes had turned serious with worry lines beginning to show. His boyish face was serious now, too—rugged, with a shadow beard. He was handsome, knock-down gorgeous, while Hope had become a hollow shell of the girl she’d been in high school. It was humiliating.
For a moment, time stood still, some kind of game of chicken to see who was going to speak first. Donovan finally opened his mouth, but before he could say a word—and Hope’s ears were perked and ready to hear anything he had to say after seventeen years—the bell above the door jingled and Ella bounded inside.
“Mom, we’re out of milk. Can you bring some home? I’m on my way to Lacy’s.”
Hope should’ve reminded her that it was a school night and to be home for dinner. Then on a much higher plane, she thought maybe she should’ve had the wherewithal to introduce the two.
Ella . . . this is your dad.
Donovan . . . your daughter.
But Hope could barely breathe, let alone speak. For the first time ever, father and daughter were in the same room together, sharing the same air, the same space. Hope couldn’t wrap her head around it. Fortunately, her daughter didn’t even look at Donovan. Which was weird, as Ella usually had a crazy radar for dogs and should’ve at least seen the puppy.
Ella just grabbed a Snickers and then the door handle. “Can you pay for this? Lacy’s waiting.” And she was out the door . . . gone.
Donovan was gone, too, down the aisle. Which was just as well. Hope had no words.
Piney came down the stairs. “Sparkle wants crackers.” She stopped short. “What’s wrong with you? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
Hope kept her eyes on Piney, while tilting her head in Donovan’s direction. Her peripheral vision said he was making his way up front with a bag of puppy chow.
“You go, buttercup,” Piney said. “I’ve got this.”
* * *
• • •
HOPE IS MARRIED? It never occurred to Donovan that she’d find someone else. Someone that’s not me. His stomach suddenly cramped as if he’d done a hundred crunches.
But he was being ridiculous. He’d dated a lot of women. No one seriously, though. No one who had been like Hope. No one he’d cared for as much as her.
And Hope has a kid? He just couldn’t shake the feeling of regret that he’d missed so much. For all he knew, Hope had a slew of rug rats at home. By the looks of the daughter he’d seen—a teenager!—Donovan had probably only been gone two minutes before Hope got hitched.
She hadn’t changed a bit. Except she was too skinny and had a worry line between her eyebrows. She’d matured from a pixie into a woman. Her dark brown hair was a bit longer—just past her shoulders—but still straight, still the color of hot chocolate. Back then, she’d dressed nicely, but her long-sleeve green polo with the Hungry Bear logo had seen better days and her jeans were very worn.
“Donovan Stone! As I live and breathe,” Piney exclaimed. She might act like she wasn’t expecting him, but Mr. Brewster knew, and if he knew, the whole town did by now.
“Hi, Ms. Douglas.”
Piney air-batted him. “Stop with that nonsense. I’m just plain Piney.”
There was nothing plain about her. She glowed in her yellow peace sign tee shirt and long psychedelic skirt.
“How have you been . . . Piney?” She hadn’t changed much, either, just a few extra wrinkles, a few extra pounds, and her dark hair was gray now.
Piney raised an eyebrow. “I’m the same. I’m not the one who’s been out in the world, making something of himself. I read about you in a Forbes article on Hope’s computer.”