Lost and Found Groom, McLinn, Patricia [ebook reader for pc and android .txt] 📗

with windows peeking out of the eaves of the third floor, and with substantial wings to either side of the central core–bigger than the public hospital on Santa Estella and considerably better tended.

The house was painted fresh white with sharp black shutters. Deep blue awnings shaded first-floor windows. The sweep of lawn, the plantings clustered around the house, the patches of fall flowers and even the big trees shading the whole thing showed signs they’d received more water than the arid areas along the road but not as much as they would have liked.

“Yeah. That’s where we stayed,” Kendra said shortly. “There’s another thing to remember about child seats from those stories . . .” And she was back onto that track.

They pulled beyond the house to a fenced side yard with children’s playground equipment inside it and a trio of women standing outside it. As Kendra braked to a stop, he wondered if her detailed monologue on child seats was totally for his education or to avoid talking about the ranch around them–the place she’d talked about with such open longing during the hurricane.

To occupy his hands he scooped up a handful of fallen leaves as he got out of the passenger side. They crumbled like potato chips, leaving him with nothing but crumbs to wipe off on his jeans.

Arriving brought his third lesson.

Other parents were a lot more interested in a “new” father than kids were, including his own. Of course, Matthew didn’t know Daniel was his father.

And Kendra showed no inclination to tell him.

Daniel hadn’t questioned that yesterday. He didn’t have time to consider it now, either, not with three women staring at him with the half-abashed air and sudden silence of people who’d been discussing the person who’d just shown up.

One was Kendra’s aunt, Marti Susland. He’d half remembered that from Kendra’s confidings during Aretha; he’d confirmed it yesterday by getting the man at the gas station to gossip. The youngest of these three women, the one with the wounded eyes, had answered the door at Kendra’s yesterday. The third woman had run the meeting at the church last night.

Beyond them, he saw two grade-school aged kids leading horses into the stable, followed by the man who’d volunteered to throw Daniel out yesterday.

Luke, that’s what Kendra had called him. And that’s what Matthew had called Daniel.

The man looked over his shoulder now toward Daniel, as if he didn’t trust him. As if he might be hoping Kendra would give him the go-ahead to run off Daniel – to try anyway.

Kendra had said they were friends, she and this Luke. Was that feeling mutual?

Daniel waited for Kendra to introduce him to the three women, but she focused on Matthew, who in turn appeared intent on filling a bucket held by the dark-haired girl who’d been sleeping when Luke carried her out yesterday, Marti Susland’s daughter.

“I understand you’re Daniel Delligatti,” said the woman from the meeting, stepping forward. He shook her extended hand, work-worn but neat. “I’m Fran Sinclair. Glad to see you signed up for duty at the babysitting co-op. We need some men.”

Eyes wide, Kendra turned at Fran Sinclair’s words, but didn’t have a chance to comment before the woman addressed him again.

“Sorry I’ve got to run off now, but stop by the co-op any time if you’ve got questions.”

“Thank you, Fran.”

With a general wave, she walked off to a dusty, mid-sized car with a full decade under its hood.

Hardly noticing her friend’s departure, Marti gave him a chillingly neutral up-and-down survey, then announced, “Kendra, I need to talk to you. Inside.”

“Marti–”

“Go ahead, Kendra,” he told her. “I’ll watch Matthew.”

Kendra opened her mouth as if to protest his ability to do that, then shot a look at the third woman, yesterday’s door-opener, who responded with a nod.

Kendra pivoted and followed her aunt toward the house.

When the door closed behind them, he turned back, and found the woman watching him. She smiled, genuine and warm.

“Hi, Daniel. I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself yesterday. I’m Ellyn Sinclair. I’m Kendra’s nearest neighbor.”

The other people from yesterday had not been much more than blurs. But he recognized this curly-haired woman from last night at the church. She’d been the one to shepherd Marti and the woman he now knew as Fran Sinclair out of the room, leaving him alone with Kendra.

He also recognized an ally when he met one.

“Hi, Ellyn. Nice to meet you. Kendra pointed out where you live–Ridge House, right? And you have a couple kids.” He tipped his head toward the barn, with a questioning lift of his eyebrows.

“Right. Meg and Ben are mine. The charmer with Matthew is Emily Susland. Marti adopted her nearly three years ago, right after a hurricane hit Santa Estella and killed her parents.”

From her pointed tone, she clearly knew that he knew about Santa Estella and that particular hurricane.

“A lot of lives were changed by Aretha.” His words were neutral, but a flicker in her eyes indicated she knew how they applied to Kendra and him. “Orphanages there had more kids than they could handle. Still do. Emily’s lucky.”

“Yes, she is. Marti has a great deal of love to give. She’s very protective of those she loves.”

He’d already seen that.

“So, did you grow up coming here for summers, too, Ellyn?”

“Not exactly. I grew up in town, but Marti let me come out here whenever I could get away, so I spent a lot of time with all of them.” She hesitated, as if there might be more to her answer, then added a little stiffly. “We moved in about a year and a half ago.”

He watched Matthew level off the top of the filled sand bucket. “I envy you that year and half.”

She rested her fingertips on his arm in a fleeting gesture of sympathy. “There are lots more memories to come, believe me. And there is a bright side–you missed a lot of dirty diapers.”

She grinned, and he smiled back.

“Thanks for pointing out the bright side. But I’d have traded all those