One Snowy Night (Sweet Home, Alaska #1) - Patience Griffin Page 0,73

before Grandpa died, Donovan had exited the company, setting himself up financially for years to come. Or at least he’d thought so. Now a lot of the profits would be going toward the lodge and the hardware store.

“I’m not sending Ella off to military school, if that’s what you’re proposing,” Hope said.

“I was just telling you about my first wake-up call. AA is what saved me,” Donovan clarified.

“There aren’t any AA meetings nearby. I’ve checked.” Her expression was thoughtful. “But there should be. We have a real problem here in Sweet Home.”

Donovan wondered what he could do to bring AA here. But Rick had made it clear last night that they already had their hands full with the lodge and the hardware store. It didn’t matter. “We’ll think of something for Ella,” he promised. Donovan would do anything for his daughter.

“Think of what for Ella?” Ella stood in the doorway. Her eyes were scrunched together as if the kitchen light were actually causing her pain.

Hope set the eggs on the counter and hurried over to her, pushing her hair back from her face. “I’m making French toast. I hope you’re hungry.”

Donovan would bet that Ella’s hangover would keep her from eating. He opened the pantry and pulled out a bottle of Advil. “I’ve got something for that headache.”

Ella looked too miserable to argue and dropped into a chair.

“Most of your clothes are in the laundry room down the hall,” Hope said.

“Why?”

“A consequence of leaving them on the floor. They all got wet,” Hope reported. “Everything is washed, thanks to Donovan, but you might need to throw something into the dryer.”

“I’m supposed to be at school early this morning.”

“What for?” Hope asked.

“Makeup exam,” Ella answered.

“Makeup for what?” Hope’s pitch had risen.

“Chemistry.” Ella held up her hand. “Do me a solid. No third degree this morning.”

Hope sighed. “Fine. We’ll talk after school.”

“I’m busy after school.” Ella dropped her forehead to the kitchen table.

Donovan set a couple of crackers, an Advil, and a glass of water in front of her. “Eat the crackers, then take the pill. It should help.”

Wordlessly, Ella looked up at him with bloodshot eyes.

“I promise it’ll make you feel better,” he said.

Ella put her head down again. “I don’t need a father,” she said into the table.

He tamped down his hurt. “How about a friend, then?” For as long as he was here, he was going to be parental backup for Hope . . . if she’d allow it. Maybe he and Ella could grow into a father-daughter relationship. It was going to be hard since he was leaving soon, but he was going to try.

Hope cracked eggs while speaking over her shoulder. “Whatever you have going this afternoon, Ella, you need to cancel it.”

“Why?” Ella groaned as if the single syllable took too much effort.

“You’re starting your new after-school job.”

Ella glared at her. “What are you talking about?”

Donovan jumped in. “We’re going to revive the Christmas Festival here in Sweet Home. We’re on a tight schedule and we could really use your help around here.”

She stared at the crackers as if they were poison. “What if I don’t want to?”

“Non-negotiable,” Hope said with mock cheeriness as she dipped the bread in the whipped eggs.

Donovan was in awe of Hope’s patience and even keel with Ella . . . and he wanted to participate. “Did I mention, Ella, that I pay my employees pretty well?”

“Well, that’s something.” She picked up a cracker and nibbled at it.

Boomer wandered in. As if Ella had puppy radar, she popped up and grabbed him. “You are so stinking cute!” Her transformation from moping teen to happy kid was evidence that Boomer cured hangovers.

“Can you take him outside?” Hope asked. “Donovan needs to fill me in on what needs to get done today. Wear my boots. They’re by the front door.”

Ella didn’t need to be told twice. She took the dog and Donovan couldn’t help but follow, just to watch his daughter. He was in awe of her, too.

She put Boomer down for just a moment while she slipped on Hope’s boots, all the while chatting with his dog about how cute he was.

When she opened the door, she stopped short and turned back to Donovan, a quizzical expression on her face.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I’m not certain. But I think you have company.”

Donovan stepped in front of her and peered out, unsure of what he was seeing. At least half a dozen vehicles were packed into the lodge’s driveway, with more idling in