One Snowy Night (Sweet Home, Alaska #1) - Patience Griffin Page 0,7
He was freezing.
But three miles later, he was disappointed once again. Seeing the neglected condition of the lodge and the three surrounding cabins was like taking an ice pick to his heart. If his grandparents were still alive, they’d be devastated at how the pride of the borough had decayed into a shabby mess. His grandparents had always kept Home Sweet Home Lodge in pristine condition, making sure the exterior was welcoming for guests and for the women of his grandmother’s monthly Sisterhood of the Quilt gatherings. He chuckled derisively. “Now it’s not even fit for the Addams Family.”
Donovan fought the urge to turn the rental car around and drive back to Anchorage. Instead, he pulled the car around the circular driveway and parked near the door. As he got out, a 4×4 truck pulled in behind him. At first, Donovan assumed the driver was looking for a place to turn around, but then the vehicle stopped and an old man eased out of the truck. He didn’t immediately walk Donovan’s way but reached back into the vehicle, pulling something out and holding it in his arms. Two seconds later, Donovan recognized both the man and the “package.”
Mr. Brewster waved his free hand. “I saw you driving through town and decided to bring you a present.”
“Nice to see you, Mr. Brewster. But that doesn’t look like a present. That looks like a dog.” A puppy. A very small puppy, but definitely a Bernese Mountain Dog. Donovan used to earn extra cash helping Mr. Brewster with his prize Berners, especially when there was a new litter.
Mr. Brewster handed over the puppy. “I brought you this runt. I don’t have time for him, as he’s not worth anything to me as he is. He’s not thriving, and I remember how, back in the day, you had a soft spot for the sickly ones.” He patted the pup in Donovan’s arms. “Thought you could do your magic with this young’un.”
“I-I—” Donovan tried.
“You always wanted a Berner for yourself. Now you’ve come home at last, he can keep you company while you fix up the place.”
Donovan went speechless, unable to tell Mr. Brewster that he had it wrong on all accounts, except for how he’d wanted a Bernese when he was a kid. Dad had said no, not out of meanness, but because he had his hands full with the pups he had already, as he put it. Donovan understood better now that Dad really had a lot on his plate—working full time, raising him and Beau all alone. Donovan’s mom had walked out on them when Donovan was only six. Carrie Stone ran to places unknown was what he heard one of the women of Sweet Home say about his mom. He didn’t know where his mother was . . . and he didn’t care. She’d left him a couple of legacies that he fought against every day: alcoholism and the urge to run when things got tough.
When Mommie Dearest left, he and Beau started hanging out with Hope, their next-door neighbor. Hope scolded and mothered them, as if she’d known exactly what they needed. To be fair, he and Beau helped the then-prissy Hope toughen up, playing war in the woods behind their houses and later hunting, fishing, and foraging in the forest.
Mr. Brewster was walking away quickly, waving a hand over his shoulder. “See you soon. Call me if you need help with the hardware store.”
Donovan got the sneaking suspicion that the old man was trying to coerce him into staying. But it just wasn’t happening—runt or no. Donovan no longer called this place home.
He looked down at the dog. “What am I going to do with you?”
The helpless furball gazed back, wagging his tail a mile a minute and staring up at him with unadulterated love in his eyes.
Donovan hadn’t seen that kind of adoration since he was a teen. Instead of a dog, it was Hope who’d been looking at him then.
Man, he needed to stop thinking about her. Yes, every now and then in the last seventeen years, she’d crossed his mind. Maybe once or twice a day. But since his grandfather died and the will had been read, Donovan couldn’t keep thoughts of Hope from constantly popping up. The way her dark hair framed her pixie face, her taking-it-all-in brown eyes, and her indelible smile. Except after the accident.
The puppy slobbered on his hand. Donovan frowned at him, but the darn dog just gazed back lovingly.