Mended Hearts. Ruth Herne Logan

do.”

      “Then might I suggest—”

      “I’m gone.” He switched his attention to the other woman. “A pleasure, Callie.”

      Callie nodded and swept them a look. “May I help? On the project, that is?”

      “Of course.” Hannah grinned, surprised but pleased. “We’d love it, Cal. Do you have time?”

      “More than I’d like right now, and working on this would be a good distraction,” the other woman admitted. “With Dad’s construction business taken over by the bank, there’s literally nothing to do right now except pray the economy improves and Dad can get back on his feet. Since I crewed for him and worked in his office, we’re taking a double hit. Waitressing doesn’t come close to covering the bottom line, so a well-intentioned distraction would be heaven-sent.”

      “We’d love your help.” Jeff made a mental note to see if he could track down her father’s business based on her name. The nice thing about small communities was the way they looked out for each other whenever possible. He turned back toward Hannah. “Can I call you later?”

      “I’m swamped.”

      Callie flashed them an understanding smile before she headed inside.

      Jeff understood swamped. “Aren’t we all?”

      “I’m here until four, then at the candy store until eight,” Hannah explained. “And I have every reason to expect to be tired by then.”

      Remembering the time on her emailed notes, he nodded. “All right. Tomorrow?”

      “No can do. I’ve got library hours in the morning, then I’m overseeing the mock-up of a weekend camper science project at Dunnymeade’s Campgrounds.”

      “You work there, too?”

      She glanced inside, her look saying she didn’t want to keep Jacob and his mother waiting. “They needed someone to help lay out their minicamp so I volunteered.”

      “You like science?”

      Her expression told Jeff he was on shaky ground. “Yes.”

      He nodded as if he hadn’t noticed. “Me, too. Hence the degree. Maybe we can experiment sometime? Together?” He grinned, lightening the moment, enjoying the bemused smile she shot him.

      “My experimental days are over.”

      “We’ll have to see about that.” He smiled, winked and headed for his car while he scolded himself silently for more reasons than he could count. “I’ll catch up with you soon.”

      “We have a meeting scheduled next week.” Hannah tapped a nonexistent watch. “Soon enough.”

      Jeff laughed at her from across the gravel. “Should we make it a contest? See who caves first?”

      “I never lose, Mr. Brennan.”

      “Neither do I, Miss Moore.” He grinned, opened his door and met her gaze. “You’re on. The first one to call or contact the other for reasons other than the library fund project buys dinner.”

      “You’d make me pay for dinner? On my salary?”

      “To make a point, yes. We’ll consider it valuable education.”

      “Since it won’t happen we’ll consider it moot. Goodbye.”

      She went into the library without a backward glance, at least not one he could see. But it wouldn’t surprise him if she tipped a blind, watching him. Grinning.

      And yeah, he knew there wasn’t time to pursue this. Not now. But if not now, then when? When will you let yourself embrace life?

      Reverend Hannity had done a series of sermons making that very point this fall. Thoughtful and thought provoking, his gentle words had tweaked Jeff’s conscience. The work demands that used to nibble his free time now consumed it.

      Was his dedication to work extreme?

      The fact that he didn’t want to answer that question said plenty. Sure, he’d grown up in the shadow of his father’s misdeeds, and their physical resemblance was so strong that Jeff felt required to establish degrees of separation. He accomplished that by being honest, faithful and self-reliant, qualities his father could have embraced.

      But chose not to.

      Hannah was right. He should squelch this attraction and cite bad timing as the reason. He needed to cover for Trent while putting the company’s best foot forward on current bids.

      Plus, the girl wasn’t interested. Correct that, she was interested, but didn’t want to be and Jeff sensed that reluctance. He didn’t need distractions or aggravations. Neither did she. And since they’d thrown down a challenge to see who’d cave first, maybe it was for the best if neither caved.

      It wouldn’t be easy to let things slide. And the thought of her walking home, even though it was only several blocks away … the image of her alone, on the streets, in the rain, the dark of night …

      That brought out his protective instincts. But she’d made it this far without his help, his protection. The fact that he wanted, no, longed to help and protect needled him.

      But he’d let it go. They both would. He knew she wouldn’t call. If self-preservation was a lock, Hannah Moore turned the key long ago.

      Sometimes God offered a distinct picture of right and wrong, and sometimes He let you figure it out for yourself. This time, Jeff was pretty sure of the message he’d been getting from Hannah.

      Put it on hold, as much as it scorched his take-charge mind-set.

      And with work tugging him in different directions, it might not scorch as much as he’d have thought.

       Chapter Six

      Hannah moved to the candy store counter and smiled at the teenage boy who walked in with his mother on Monday afternoon. He didn’t return the smile, just gave a semi-embarrassed “what am I doing here” half shrug.

      Hannah understood the adolescent gesture. When the woman moved off to examine preboxed candy, a note of desperation darkened the boy’s eyes, a quick flash, as if weighing escape routes and finding them lacking.

      A cold shudder coursed through Hannah; an icy prickling climbed her back, clawing her gut.

      She stood on her side of the counter, wanting to move, wanting to help, frozen in the press of memories, the boy’s stark look familiar.

      The boy read her expression and jerked his features into a quick semblance of normalcy. Then he ducked his chin.

      He’s a kid, Hannah reminded herself as she stepped forward. They’re all a little whacked-out at this age. Puberty does weird things to kids’ heads. You know that, Hannah. Get a grip.

      “May I help you?”

      He shrugged again, glanced around, then settled a look on his mother. “I’m just waiting for her.”

      His detached tone told Hannah he wasn’t here by choice. She nodded and raised a tray of freshly done candies. “Well, I’ve got a sampling here of some new twists on old favorites. If you’d like to try a couple for me, I’d value your opinion, sir.”