looked around as if the answer were off in the bushes or in the street. “I don’t know. I’ve tried everything—grounding her, lecturing, watching her every move. I even told her the whole truth about Izzie”—her voice hitched—“and Beau.”
“Where is she right now?” Donovan asked.
“This very minute? I don’t know. I asked her to come with me tonight but she said she was going to Tyler’s and afterward, Lacy’s.” She dropped her head and shook it, looking wary. “Aberdeen said she was going to lock up the liquor but I doubt that she did.”
Donovan took her arm. “Come on.”
Hope pulled away. “Where are we going?”
“To find our daughter.” Donovan hoped he was doing the right thing. In his gut, he felt it would help Ella to see both of her parents working together for her good.
“Aberdeen lives down the road from my rental.”
“We’ll check there first. If she isn’t at Aberdeen’s, then we’ll drive out to this Tyler person’s house.”
Hope nodded and they hurried to his car. The council members and attendees all stopped to watch as he opened the passenger door for Hope.
“Ignore them,” he instructed.
“Easy for you to say.” Hope slid into the car. “You don’t live here.”
He set Boomer in her lap before going around to the other side and getting behind the wheel. He didn’t want to talk about leaving Sweet Home, so he changed the subject. “What the council is asking me to do—reopening the hardware store by Christmas—is impossible.”
“Good.” Her happy tone wasn’t encouraging. She pointed at the signpost. “Turn right at the stop sign. Aberdeen’s is the first trailer on the left.”
Donovan did as she directed. When he turned the corner, Hope sucked in some air.
“My car isn’t there.”
“Don’t panic. Where does Tyler live?”
“Out on Cemetery Road.”
A road Donovan had traveled several times since he’d returned to Sweet Home.
Hope guided him to the boy’s house, but Hope’s car wasn’t there either and all the lights were out.
“No one’s home. Where is she?” Hope asked worriedly.
“Text her,” he said. “Just to make sure she’s all right.”
“I already did but she didn’t answer.”
“Does this happen often—you know, where Ella goes off on her own and makes you worry?”
“Unfortunately, it comes with having a teenage daughter.”
That certainly rang true. He’d only been a father for a short period of time and he was so anxious he was having trouble concentrating on the road.
“What next?” he asked.
“Home. I’ll go home and wait for her to return. I seem to be waiting for her a lot lately,” Hope said resignedly.
“If it’s okay, I’d like to wait with you,” Donovan said.
“You don’t have to,” Hope insisted.
“I know. But I want to anyway. For Ella’s sake.” And his own.
Ten minutes later he pulled up in front of Hope’s tiny house. It was almost small enough to fit inside his living room back in San Jose.
He grabbed Boomer and followed Hope up the shoveled walkway, thinking she really did have her hands full—keeping up with a house, a job, and an unpredictable teenager!
She unlocked the door, turned on the light, and he stepped in after her—straight into a puddle.
“What the . . .” Hope’s words died as she ran to the room at the back—looked like a kitchen—water splashing beneath her feet.
He set Boomer on the love seat. “Stay!” Then Donovan rushed after her . . . Boomer did, too, getting all wet. Nothing he could do about it now. Donovan hurried to Hope. “What happened?”
She was reaching under the sink, pulling out a wrench and muttering to herself, “A pipe must’ve broken. Or the water heater. Bad luck follows me around.”
“Hand over the wrench and tell me where the shutoff valve is.”
“I’ve got it—”
“Don’t make me wrestle you for it. I’m a half foot taller.” He gently touched her arm. “Let me do this one thing for you.”
“You already did one thing for me . . . the signing bonus, remember?” She fired her words as if she were at target practice and his face was the bull’s-eye. She frowned and then handed over the wrench. “The shutoff valve is in the dungeon.”
“Dungeon?”
“The basement. It’s a cellar, really. I certainly don’t go down there unless I have to. Here.” She went to the corner and scooted an area rug away with her foot, revealing a metal ring that was flush with the water-soaked hardwood floor. “You’ll need a light. There’s no electricity down there.” She opened a drawer, uncovered a flashlight, and held it out to him.
“Where is the shutoff