valve?”
“About three feet up on the south wall.” She pointed south.
He’d never liked dark enclosed spaces, but he would do this for Hope. And for Ella.
“What are you doing?” he asked as Hope grabbed a broom.
“Sweeping what water I can out the back door. Or else I might as well turn this place into an ice rink.”
It did seem unusually cold in the house. “Did the furnace go off, too?”
“No.” She looked defensive. “I turn it down when we’re out. Conserving energy. Saving the planet. I’m a good world citizen.”
He’d forgotten how it could be. He hadn’t grown up with much, like most people in Sweet Home. They were all used to getting by on little, even the essentials . . . like heat. Suddenly he was grateful he’d had Rick send Hope that bonus.
Hope was glaring at him with her Don’t you pity me face with an extra I’m fine! in her eyes.
“I’ll be right back.” He reached down and yanked open the door in the floor, flipping on the flashlight before descending the steps into what looked like hell. As he did, water splashed into the hole. Hope was quite possibly sweeping the water on his head on purpose.
He shone the flashlight side to side, illuminating a basement so empty and musty that rats, spiders, and ghouls would find it too spooky. No wonder Hope never came down here. He went to the south corner, located the valve on the wall, and shut it off. “All done!”
Hope cried out, and he nearly tripped up the stairs, afraid something had happened to her or Boomer.
“What’s wrong?”
He found her in the small coat closet near the front door, trying to pull out a wet box. Boomer was in one arm, wrapped in a towel, looking confused.
“Here, let me,” he said.
Hope moved out of the way and he stepped in, carefully lifting and maneuvering the soggy box out of the closet.
“Support the bottom. It’s Izzie’s things,” Hope cried. “Her trinkets and artwork.”
Donovan remembered Izzie’s talent for art. “Where do you want me to put it? Kitchen table?”
“Yes. It won’t hurt the Formica.”
But once in the kitchen, he set the box on a chair. He took Boomer. Hope pulled out two stuffed bears and a small jewelry box. He leaned over as she opened it and saw the cross necklace.
“It’s from Izzie’s first communion,” she said hurriedly. Finally she pulled out the box from the very bottom.
“No!” she cried in dismay. Water was dripping from it.
It had to be the artwork. “Let’s spread them out on the table and the counter. If we can get them dried quickly, maybe it won’t be so bad.” He knew of a good art restoration firm in California.
“The house is waterlogged. There’s no chance that they’ll dry out at all,” Hope said, sounding defeated.
“Okay. Then we’ll take them to the lodge and spread out the artwork on the cutting table in Nan’s studio.” Then he’d call that restoration firm . . . anything to keep the wobble out of Hope’s voice. “But first, let’s get them out of this smaller box.” Then he thought of something else. “Is there anything in Ella’s room that might be getting damaged?”
“Aside from the clothes she leaves all over the floor? I’ll go check.”
As soon as she left the kitchen, he pulled out his phone. Rick picked up on the second ring. “Can you and Sparkle come to Hope’s house right away? Bring a bunch of empty boxes from the Hungry Bear.”
“What’s going on?” Rick asked.
“Hope and Ella are moving in with me.”
* * *
• • •
“WHAT?” HOPE WAS this close to blowing a gasket. “Are you crazy?”
Startled, Donovan turned around but then spoke into the phone. “I’ll tell you everything when you get here. Hurry.”
She slammed her hands on her hips. “Call back whoever that was. I’m not moving in with you!”
“It was Rick. We’re going to get your stuff out of here. Tonight.”
Hope’s mind was spinning. Maybe Piney had room for her and Ella. But who was she kidding? That apartment was tighter than Hope’s minuscule house. “Just give me a minute to think.”
“Okay.” But his voice sounded as if her taking a minute wasn’t going to change his mind.
He had most of Izzie’s drawings spread over the counter—the fairy world Izzie loved to jabber about, the secret woodland home for animals who spoke, and drawings of a magical kingdom with a whimsical castle.
“What’s the damage in Ella’s room?” he asked.
“It may be a total loss.”
“Really?”
“Her clothes are