One Snowy Night (Sweet Home, Alaska #1) - Patience Griffin Page 0,36

getting along,” Donovan said. “Maybe she’ll wear him out and he’ll quit gnawing on my moccasins.”

“Stop whining,” Rick said. “I’ll pick you up a new pair when I head back to Anchorage.”

Hope got closer and noticed a good portion of one moccasin had been chewed away.

“Come on in.” Rick held the door wide, smiling at Sparkle.

Sparkle glanced over at Hope.

Hope gave her an it’s-all-good look, then waved at Ella. “Are you coming?”

Ella scooped up Boomer and ran for the porch.

As Hope neared the door, she became aware of a wonderful smell from inside the lodge. “You put the roast in?” She was speaking to Rick as she stepped inside, but it was Donovan who answered.

“We got the Internet,” Donovan said. “I YouTubed it.”

“Don’t let him fool you, Hope,” Rick said, shutting the door behind Ella and Boomer. “Donovan is a great cook. If it weren’t for him, I’d be emaciated. I’m not sure what I’m going to do when he moves to Florida.”

“I told him to move to Florida, too,” Donovan said. “My business manager needs to be close to the business, right?”

“What’s in Florida?” Ella asked, as she slipped off her snow boots and set them on the mat.

“My dad lives in Florida,” Donovan said. “He’d be here with me now, but he’s recovering from back surgery.”

“Is he going to be all right?” Hope asked. She’d always liked Mr. Stone. And he was Ella’s grandfather, something Hope had never considered before.

“He’ll be fine. He’s starting physical therapy next week. All this is bad timing.”

Hope knew what he meant. With Charles Stone’s passing this past month, she wondered if Donovan’s dad had to miss the funeral. But she wouldn’t ask.

“Where’d you get Boomer?” Ella inquired.

“Mr. Brewster. Do you know him?” Donovan said.

“Yeah. I help out sometimes at the kennel, especially in the summer.”

Just like Donovan did.

Ella looked lovingly down at Boomer. “Is this the runt Mr. Brewster told me about?”

“The one and only,” Donovan said.

Ella gave Boomer a little squeeze and then kissed his head. “I always wanted a Berner.”

“Really?” Donovan glanced over at Hope. “Maybe your mom can get you one. Or your dad?”

Ella shook her head. “My dad’s dead.” She said it matter-of-factly, as if stating Boomer was a dog.

Izzie had had that kind of candor and it was surprisingly comforting to see it in her daughter.

Donovan, though, looked as if Ella’s words had thrown him off guard. After a moment, he seemed to recover . . . sort of. “I’m sorry to hear about your father.”

“No worries,” Ella said. “He died before I was born.” She glanced at Hope, but then she frowned. “Mom, why do you look so weird?”

“Nothing,” Hope answered quickly and wrongly. “I mean, I don’t look weird.”

“Yeah, you do. You were weird at home, getting ready. And now you’re starting to freak me out.”

Hope shoved her hair behind her ears, something she did when she was nervous. Thank goodness, Rick came to the rescue. “Everyone, go stand by the fire and get warm.” He helped Sparkle off with her coat.

The visit was just getting started and Hope already wanted to head home. She realized then that “The Little Drummer Boy” was playing quietly in the background. She pointed to the air, as if she could touch the music. “Which one of you is in the Christmas spirit?”

“Guilty,” Rick said. “I’m a sucker for the holidays. Since the stores in Anchorage were already gearing up for Santa, I took advantage and bought a bunch of decorations, too.”

“Yeah, you can no longer park a vehicle in the garage. Packed,” Donovan added, shaking his head. “Thanksgiving isn’t even here yet.”

Hope scanned the interior of the lodge. It looked totally different now than when she’d shown up with the grocery delivery, when the only illumination came from lanterns. Now, the overhead lights were lit, along with every lamp. This was how Hope remembered it, except there was no laughter resonating from the Sisterhood of the Quilt. Also, two large beanbag chairs were parked in front of the television set, the same TV that had been there seventeen years ago.

Hope raised her eyebrows at Donovan. “I’m surprised that, being a man and all, you didn’t upgrade to an eighty-five-inch flat screen while you were in Anchorage.”

“It’s on back order.” Donovan stared at her for a long moment.

Thank goodness Rick jumped in, because Hope couldn’t help but stare back.

“We went to the furniture store to buy new couches and chairs, but my man here”—Rick jabbed a thumb at Donovan—“couldn’t