few words from him had straightened her out. She’d spent the day thinking he might like her again, be attracted to her, but apparently, he’d just been biding his time, trying to figure out how to tell her that she dressed like a hobo. She kept replaying every moment of the day and it still ended with him calling her a trooper and then telling her that she needed new clothes. She was an idiot.
“Hey,” Izzie said. “You want to talk about it?”
Hope turned over to see Izzie stretched out on the other pillow as if she were luxuriating in the room.
“You know he’s kicking himself for how he handled it,” Izzie said.
“I doubt it. When he gets back, Scrooge McDuck will probably toss his hundred-dollar bills on the bed and roll around in them.”
“I don’t think so. You know he just wanted to do something nice, to help, something you really need, too. He just went about it the wrong way.”
“Because he’s ashamed of me.”
“We’ve talked about this before. He feels bad. He has so much and, let’s face it, you could be the poster child for welfare.”
“Thanks for the reminder that I’m nearly destitute.”
Izzie rolled over and faced her. “But you’re not. It could always be worse.” She sounded just like their mother.
“What am I supposed to do?” Hope asked. “Say thank you for the handout?”
“You’re going to be gracious. You’re going to let him buy clothes for you and Ella. You’re going to allow it because it will bless him. What is the little prayer that you say every morning?
Hope didn’t want to repeat it but Izzie was waiting, giving her that pursed-lip look.
Defeated, Hope sighed. “Please let me be a blessing today.”
“That’s the one. It’s a fine prayer. It’s a perfect way for you to give to others—”
“Because I have nothing else to give,” Hope finished. She offered Izzie a smile, though it was sad. “Thanks.”
“Sleep well. Tomorrow you’ll have a chance to be a blessing again.”
Chapter 15
HOPE STARED SILENTLY out the window of Donovan’s car as they drove back to Sweet Home. Despite Izzie’s admonition to be gracious, Hope had been sullen all morning while Donovan dragged her around the mall from one clothing store to the next. She really tried to be open to his charity but she’d had a lot of practice in making it on her own. When he saw she was in the same mood that he’d left her in last night, he must have figured there was no point trying to cajole her into a happy-to-shop-with-you mood, but that certainly didn’t stop him from buying her several dresses, two pairs of sensible pumps, four pairs of slacks, two sweaters, and five blouses. She half expected him to pick out some underwear and socks for her, too.
Yeah, he must’ve thought he was being sly when, behind her back, he took a winter coat to the counter. She’d looked down at her brown puffy coat and thought, There’s nothing wrong with this. It was still functional and only had one small rip in the sleeve. She was already planning what to do when he presented her with the coat. She’d nod, then give him his money back . . . somehow.
But Hope was happy that they’d found some nice things for Ella. She had never had the cash to do a traditional back-to-school shopping spree, which was what this haul felt like. Ella would be thrilled.
Donovan broke the silence as he pulled into the parking lot of a small-town grocery store. “I need to stop for coffee.” So apparently he’d slept horribly last night, too. “Do you want me to get you some?”
“Thank you, I can get my own,” Hope said evenly, as if she were the queen of Cool, Calm, and Collected.
Although she was none of those things.
The quirky two-story grocery store was fairly empty. She browsed every snack aisle while he ordered his coffee from the only worker in sight. Hope grabbed a small bag of chips and then headed upstairs to see what was there, stalling until Donovan was done so she could order her coffee without him nearby.
Last night had proven she should put the dream of him out of her mind forever. He was nothing but her employer, who wasn’t even going to be in Alaska much longer. He was a stranger to her now, not the boy she’d loved for most of her life. Perhaps she’d never loved him at all, but had made it up,