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And here's a teaser from Lucky Me!
Just
get it over with.
Diane Varney pulled her old Buick
into the long driveway leading to the two-story gray house on the outskirts of
Best Bay. It had been called the Harper Homestead for as long as she could
remember. The driveway was plowed, the walk shoveled. It looked like Jason was
doing a good job helping his father while he was down. Ford had to be going crazy
not to be able to do it himself.
The sunlight glittered off the smooth
expanse of snow behind the house, and the sky was that brilliant blue that
seemed to appear only on crisp winter days like this. The texture of the clouds
overhead made her fingers itch with the desire to capture the scene.
There’d been a time when she carried
a sketch pad with her all the time, when every moment was an inspiration. It had
been so long since she’d indulged her creativity she worried it was too late to
recapture. But her appointment this afternoon wasn’t what was causing the
nerves zinging through her body at the moment.
Stop dragging your feet.
Diane picked the
take-out box off the seat beside her and got out of the car. After the damned
fool had his accident, she’d heard that nearly every single woman of a certain
age in the area had high-tailed it over here, offering home-cooked meals, baked
goods, and who knows what else to the injured widower.
Diane had made
sure she wasn’t part of that crowd.
But here she was,
stopping by with food after all. Diane pushed the doorbell and heard it echo
through the house. Ford had to have expected Jason to come back with his lunch,
but he didn’t answer the door. Of course, his son probably would have walked
right in.
Couldn’t Ford get
around well enough to come to the door? Had all those other women simply walked
into the house with their cakes and chicken casseroles? Diane rang the doorbell
again. When there was still no answer, she began to worry. What if he’d fallen
again? What if he was lying unconscious or bleeding?
She tested the
doorknob and it turned in her hand. Her heart began to race as she pushed it
open slightly. “Ford?” she called out hesitantly.
“Well, get in
here.” His deep, gravelly voice rumbled through her system.
The front door
opened into a large foyer. The last time she’d been in this house was after the
funeral of her old friend, Irene, who died suddenly of a brain aneurysm. How
many years ago was that now? Diane kicked off her boots, hung her coat on a
hook by the door and then headed into the hall that ran down the middle of the
house. Pictures of members of the Harper family going back several generations
covered the walls of the narrow space. “Ford?”
“In here.”
Following the
sound of his voice, she turned right into the living room. He sat in an old
recliner, wearing a gray T-shirt and black gym shorts. His legs were raised,
one encased in a cast from toe to thigh. Her gaze finally made it past his
broad shoulders and she caught a glimpse of the face that she’d thought was
amazing when he was younger and had simply improved over the years.
She swallowed.
Butterflies in the stomach was a cliché for a reason.
His thick hair was
now a shiny silver and the wavy strands were tousled as if he’d run his fingers
through them. He obviously hadn’t shaved in a few days and if she’d been close
enough she might have reached out to brush her fingers along his light scruff
before she realized what she was doing. His blue eyes didn’t sparkle this
morning as much as they used to. Dark circles gave away his lack of sleep.
His lips lifted in
a small smile. “Hey, Di. What are you doing here?”
She was going to
ignore the butterflies. “You look like shit.”
He barked out a
small laugh. “I could always trust you to cut out the bull.”
She set the take-out
box on the arm of the long, upholstered sofa. The small table beside his chair
had a stack of dirty plates. Three remotes were lined up on one of the arms of
the chair. She didn’t see his crutches.
Diane fought the
instinct to pick up and straighten. “Jason asked me to stop by with your
burger. He had to leave in a hurry.”
“I heard the rescue
call go out, thought it might be something like that.” He shifted in his chair
and looked around. For the missing crutches, perhaps?
“Need some help?”
She couldn’t resist making the offer. She should turn around and get out of
there but she couldn’t leave him like this.
He grimaced, his
hands gripping the arms of the chair. “I don’t want any help.”
She folded her
arms. “I know you don’t want any
help, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need some.”
“I’m sick of
needing help.” Ford dropped his head back. “Hell, I’m too old for this shit.”
“Don’t tell me you
walked under that ladder before you climbed up it.”
“I would never do
that.” He grinned then and her heart did a flip. “Just like I’d never open an
umbrella inside a building and I always pick up a penny when I find one. You
taught me well, Di.”
He was too damn
cute but he wasn’t going to distract her. “What were you doing up on a ladder
in the first place?”
“The gutters
needed cleaning out.”
“You can hire
someone to do that, you know.”
His eyes narrowed.
“I’m perfectly capable of cleaning out my own damn gutters. I’ve climbed
ladders my whole life.”
Thinking about him
crumpled at the foot of that ladder made her heart race again. “You could have
broken your stupid neck.”
“Well, I didn’t. I
just broke my stupid leg.”
She locked her
gaze with his. “And now you need help.”
He shook his head.
“All the other women who bring me food are nice to me. They don’t call me
stupid.”
“Guess they don’t
know you very well.” She used to know him. Back before he married her best
friend.
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