One Snowy Night (Sweet Home, Alaska #1) - Patience Griffin Page 0,40

get mighty uncomfortable while Piney fixed what the universe had messed up when little Izzie and Beau died. She should’ve hunted Donovan down after he left and told him Hope was pregnant. But she’d been there at Elsie’s funeral when he’d told Hope that he wanted nothing to do with her ever again. And Hope had been so upset that it seemed wrong to interfere. But for Donovan’s and Hope’s sakes now, Piney would take off the kid gloves and dish out a dollop of tough love.

It wouldn’t be easy.

But it would be worth it to have those two back together. She just prayed that Hope could forgive her for the lie she was about to tell.

Chapter 8

SLOWLY, HOPE DROVE along the curvy road leading out of town. The weather didn’t have anything to do with her keeping her speed down; no, her snail’s pace had everything to do with going back to the lodge, when she felt certain that Donovan must hate her. But if she couldn’t talk to Ella tonight, then she would speak with Donovan. Explain. Answer his questions. Maybe even beg his forgiveness.

But the memory of standing near Elsie Stone’s grave, Donovan telling her he never wanted to see her ever again, felt fresh. As new as the snow that was starting to fall.

Now that Hope knew Ella was okay, she felt bad for abandoning Sparkle. But hadn’t Rick said he’d get Sparkle home? Hadn’t Sparkle told her to go, giving her the nod of approval before Hope ran out? Her memory was clouded . . .

She had even more trouble thinking about what she was going to say to Donovan. Regret covered Hope and she swiped at a tear. If she’d told Donovan about Ella sooner, maybe Ella could’ve had a father all these years. But the truth was, Hope felt certain Donovan wouldn’t have welcomed the news that she was pregnant. And who knew whether Donovan even wanted to be a parent now?

Should she ask him?

Once she got to the lodge, it took everything in her to leave the car and go to the door. It was even harder to knock.

When she finally did, Rick answered with Boomer in his arms. He pulled her in for a quick hug, as if he’d known her forever. “Are you all right? Sparkle and I were worried sick about you.”

Hope wished her eyes weren’t red. She had to keep reminding herself: Ella is okay!

“Is Donovan here?”

“The back porch,” Rick said.

Probably cooling off. “Thanks.”

Hope gave Sparkle a small wave as she walked through the dining room. Sparkle’s eyes were filled with pity. That look was something Hope had become accustomed to from the folks of Sweet Home, but never from Sparkle. Stepping out on the back porch, Hope felt like she was about to face a firing squad.

Donovan was standing with his back to her, looking at the nearly frozen river.

“How’s Ella?” He didn’t turn around. “Is she okay?”

Well, she’s drunk. But Hope didn’t say that. “She’s spending the night at Lacy’s. Aberdeen called and told me.” Hope paused. “Can we talk?”

Donovan shook his head, still not looking at her. “I’m not sure I want to speak to you right now.”

Hope didn’t blame him for being furious.

“Don’t you have questions?” Hope said.

Silence. Hope waited. Just as she was about to leave the porch—and his life forever—Donovan turned around.

“Let’s go inside to Grandpa’s office and give Rick and Sparkle some alone time. I think we’ve aired enough dirty laundry in front of others for one night.”

“You’re not calling my daughter dirty laundry, are you?”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking defeated. Frustrated. Angry. “Of course not, Hope. I’m just a private person these days.”

“Then you’ve been away too long. Have you forgotten that no one gets true privacy here in Sweet Home?” She noticed that Donovan hadn’t corrected her by saying, She’s my daughter, too.

This wasn’t going well.

Why had she come back?

Apparently, she was into punishment.

She followed him inside, then through the kitchen. It was as if Donovan was keeping her out of Rick and Sparkle’s line of sight, sneaking her to Charles Stone’s office because he was embarrassed by her.

The office looked like a time capsule, exactly how Charles had left it, neat, tidy, with everything in its place, the opposite of Elsie Stone, who liked everything out so she could see it—papers, fabric, patterns. Hope still missed her. All of Sweet Home did.

Donovan shut the door behind Hope. His features were hard, taut. “Why did you