“Thanks,” he said politely with an upturned grin. “These are cool.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Did you make ’em?”
“Yes,” she replied, wanting to say more, but knowing she couldn’t. Especially since she felt the sting of tears. The cupcake was the first thing she’d given him…the first thing he’d been able to thank her for. Such a simple, ordinary occurrence.
And it meant the world.
She kept it together as she handed out the rest of the treats and then did cleanup duty. But her gaze continued to stray until the teacher divided the children into reading groups. Leah was supposed to help anyone who needed it.
Since the class, like all the others in the school, was small, so were the individual groups. Leah rotated between them as Miss Randolph had instructed, but she was drawn to Danny’s.
Danny read his section aloud without error.
It was a little girl named Lily’s turn. She was obviously much shyer. “The water hit the wall with a big…” She paused, trying to decipher the word.
“Splash,” Danny whispered.
Lily smiled. “Splash,” she said aloud, then continued reading.
Leah was pleased to see that he was kind to the children who didn’t work at his level. That behavior could come naturally.
Or from what he’d been taught.
She had to acknowledge the truth. Danny’s upbringing had been a good one. And that was because of Matt.
Beneath the man’s glower and glare, there must be something else. Something that had shaped Danny.
By late evening most of the guests at the bed-and-breakfast were either upstairs in their rooms or relaxing in the main parlor. The spacious old house had a small rear parlor off the kitchen that was Annie’s private space, one that she invited Leah to share.
“These old Victorian houses are great,” Leah said, relaxing in a bentwood rocking chair.
“Some people are put off because they’re too big. I think they’re cozy. Especially here by the kitchen.”
Leah smiled. “I always thought it would be nice to have a sturdy table right in the middle of the kitchen, the family gathering around for meals.”
“That not what you’re used to?”
“Oh, my mother likes things more formal, dinner in the dining room, using the china and crystal.” Leah shrugged, her eyes softening. “This just seems warmer, homier.”
“Do you have a very big family?”
“No. I’m an only child. My parents had me kind of late, when they were in their forties. And when I didn’t come along in the expected time line, I think they gave up. So I was a surprise. And by then they were used to giving dinner parties, entertaining clientele.”
“Sounds lonely.”
“I didn’t mean it to. They doted on me. Because they were older, their friends were, too, so I had lots of attention. We traveled, which was great. It’s just that, sometimes, I wondered about places, well, like Rosewood. Elegant is beautiful, but I wondered about simpler places where rustic is okay, too.” Embarrassed, Leah laughed. “Listen to me.”
“I’m enjoying it. I don’t have many friends from outside of Rosewood and I know practically nothing about city living.”
“How about you? How did you come to be the one who inherited your grandparents’ house? No siblings to share it with?”
Annie’s dark eyes saddened. “When I was a baby, my parents and older brother and sister were killed in a car accident. I was here with my grandparents.”
Horrified, Leah stopped rocking and laid one hand over Annie’s. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried.”
“It’s part of who I am.” Annie’s face was drawn. “Part of the family curse.”
“Curse?”
“I don’t know what else to call it. I told you my grandparents’ first home burned. Their other child, my mother’s only brother, died in the fire.”
“That doesn’t mean your family’s cursed, Annie.”
“When I was twenty-one I met…the most wonderful man in the world.” Annie’s voice thickened. “He wasn’t from here. He was a tourist just passing through. But after we met…well, anyway, we fell in love. And we got engaged. The day after, I was waiting for him so we could call his parents. When he didn’t show up, I got worried and went over to the hotel. He didn’t answer when I knocked on his door. The manager finally got the key, and when he opened the door, David was inside. At first I couldn’t understand how he could sleep through both of us banging on the door.” Annie paused, remembering. “He had died in the night. His heart. The doctor said he must have had a preexisting condition. He was twenty-five years old. I knew then what the preexisting condition was—my family curse.”
“Oh, Annie, no! It was a terrible thing to happen, but it wasn’t your fault.”
“If he’d just kept driving, hadn’t met me—”
“You can’t believe that!”
Annie leaned back in her chair. “I keep praying it isn’t true. But it isn’t safe for anyone to become part of my family. Look what happens.”
“So you intend to live alone the rest of your life?”
“No. I turned the bakery into a bed-and-breakfast so I have company.” Annie smiled, trying, but still not hiding her pain. “And sometimes, when I’m lucky, guests are as good as family.”
“I don’t believe in curses, and I’ve always wanted a sister. So, I’ll sign on.”
Annie’s smile faltered. “Don’t even joke.”
“I’m not. I took a huge leap of faith by trusting you with the most important secret I have. You proved that was the right thing to do. Let me prove this to you.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Leah. You haven’t lived with this fear.”
“I’ve lived with the fear of thinking I might not find my son alive every day of the last eight years. There isn’t a greater fear.”
Annie’s lips trembled. “I’ve prayed that this curse isn’t real.”
Leah held out her hand. “Sisters?”
Annie hesitated, then reached out, as well. “Sisters.”
Chapter Six
For the next few weeks, work on the teachers’ lounge was progressing to Leah’s satisfaction. The walls were freshly painted the color of sunwashed sand, and she’d done the trim in bright, clean white, with sections stained a deep mahogany for contrast. It was a drastic change from the dreary institutional green.
An ugly column stood in the middle of the room, and rather than trying to blend it in, Leah decided to make it a focal point. Using a trompe l’oeil technique, she turned it into a graceful willow tree, with a trunk, branches and leaves that reached around all four sides.
Continuing the theme, she used the same method to paint willow trees that faded in to the corners of the room, as well. The windowless, odd-shaped room was now open and inviting. The teachers were thrilled and there wasn’t a stick of furniture inside yet. That required Matt’s involvement.
He was the furniture man. She didn’t want to delay finishing the job, but she didn’t want to speak to him.
Problem.