He’d deal with Trisha Saunders later.
“Oh, Hoyt.” Anna’s ice-green eyes warmed with sympathy, but the change didn’t make him feel better. If Anna Delaney was feeling sorry for him, things were even worse than he thought. “You must be worried out of your mind.”
Yeah. Pretty much. He ran one hand impatiently through his wet hair. “I thought she might be here with you. She likes this place.” That was an understatement. Jess was crazy in love with this store. She tugged him in here every time they passed by, and she never wanted to leave.
That was why he’d been hoping...
“She’s not here, Hoyt.” Anna’s forehead was creased with concern. “Do you think you should go talk to the sheriff?”
“I’m headed there next.” He couldn’t believe this had happened. If Marylee were still alive...
But she wasn’t. The grief he’d lived with for three long years stabbed him like a broken rib. It did that sometimes. Mostly it was just a dull ache these days, but every now and then it flared back up and sucker punched him.
Especially when he felt like he was flunking single fatherhood big time.
Like now.
But he couldn’t waste precious time feeling guilty. Not until he found Jess.
“I’ll go talk to Sheriff Towers. If you see her—” He’d started to turn toward the door, but he froze, listening. His eyes locked with Anna’s. “I thought you said you were alone.”
“I am. That’s nothing. Just a silly possum I can’t keep out of my storage room.”
“Maybe not.” Hoyt shouldered past Anna and headed in the direction of the noise.
There was only one door at the back of the store. He tried the knob, but it was locked. He shot a questioning look at Anna.
“I’ll unlock it.” Anna moved to the checkout area and started opening and shutting drawers, riffling through their contents with hurried fingers. “But I’m telling you, it’s nothing but that stupid possum. I can’t get rid of him.”
Hoyt’s fear, mixed with his newfound hope, made him vibrate with impatience. He needed to know right now if Jess was in that room. “Could you hurry this up, Anna?”
“Hang on a second. I know the key’s here somewhere because I used it just a few hours ago. I moved some breakable items in there when the kids got wild playing hide-and-seek, and— Oh!—” She stopped, her eyes wide. “I unlocked the door while they were here,” she said slowly, “for just a few minutes.”
That was all Hoyt needed to hear. He wasn’t waiting for any key.
“Jess, baby, if you’re in there, move to the back of the room. Okay?”
He reared back and kicked the door. The flimsy lock broke instantly, and the door flew so wide that it banged against the wall like a gunshot.
And there she was, his little girl, crouched on the floor. She blinked up at him like a startled baby owl.
Hoyt crossed the room in two strides and swept his daughter up into his arms. Pressing her against his chest, he closed his eyes, breathing in the familiar scent of her baby shampoo.
“Daddy’s got you, honey. Are you all right?” Hoyt murmured the question raggedly against his daughter’s wispy blond hair. She nodded against his chest, but Hoyt pulled her gently away to check her over for himself. Her eyes, the blue of a robin’s eggs, were wide, but she didn’t seem to be hurt. He nestled her back against him, feeling her little fingers twining tightly into the fabric of his shirt.
Other than being a little spooked, Jess seemed all right.
Which meant everything else was all right.
Hoyt squeezed his eyes closed. Thank You, God.
As his heartbeat slowed back down into its regular gear, he opened his eyes. His gaze caught on the window across the room.
“Anna?”
“Hoyt, truly, I had no idea she was in there.” Anna spoke from behind him, her voice shaking. He turned to look at her. She’d gone so pale that the half dozen freckles on her nose stood out like flecks of golden paint on a white wall. “She must have slipped in while I was talking to Trisha. I guess I was so distracted that I didn’t notice her before I locked the door.” Anna’s worried gaze shifted to Jess. “Sweetie, I’m so, so sorry.”
“Not your fault.” Sure, he and Anna had been like oil and water ever since their big blowup back in high school, but Hoyt knew she’d never do anything like this on purpose. “This was nothing but a crazy accident.” One that had almost given him a heart attack, but now that Jess was safely back in his arms, he was feeling a lot more forgiving. Hoyt drew in a deep breath and shifted Jess’s weight on his arm. Might as well get this next part over with. “Speaking of crazy accidents, was that window over there already broken?”
“What? Yes. Three of the panes have been cracked forever, but—” Anna broke off and bit her lip as she studied her window. “Oh.” The damaged glass had fallen completely out of the frame and splintered on the floor, leaving gaping spaces behind. “Well, no. Not like that.”
That was what he’d been afraid of. “When I kicked the door in, the impact must have jarred the cracked panes loose.” He’d broken the door, too, but he didn’t feel as bad about that. It was a cheap hollow core not original to the building. He could get dozens of those down at the building supply store.
That window was a different story. Hoyt’s contractor brain kicked in. The watery-looking glass in the intact panes meant he was looking at an antique fixture. Not a standard size, either. It was going to be ridiculously expensive to repair, if he could even get glass to match, which was doubtful. The whole window would probably have to be replaced.
As he silently summed up the damages, gusts of wind blew in through the empty holes, bringing heavy splats of rain with them.
“Excuse me.” Anna made a worried noise as she brushed past him. She grabbed the flaps of a rain-spattered cardboard box and began tugging it away from the window.
“I’ll do that.” He reluctantly set Jess on her feet. “Stay put for a minute, pumpkin, okay?” He waited until she nodded and then made short work of moving boxes out of the danger zone while Anna hovered on the sidelines.
“Thanks,” she murmured. Opening one of the dampest boxes, she checked the contents. She made unhappy clucking sounds as she unpacked the books. She gave each one a quick once-over before stacking them on a nearby table.
Hoyt watched the process with a sense of confusion. There was at least six or seven hundred dollars’ worth of structural damage in this room, but Anna was worrying over a box of wet books?
He’d never understand this woman.
Anna made it to the bottom of the box and sighed. “Most of these are okay. I might have to discount a couple for water spotting, but other than that, I don’t think you did any real damage.”
Hoyt waited, eyebrows lifted.
Nothing.
“Except for your busted window and door,” he finally pointed out.
“Oh, right.” Anna considered the broken glass. “There is that. Not that it really matters now,” she muttered under her breath.
What did she mean by that? No telling. Hoyt shook his head.
Nope, he’d never understand Anna Delaney. Not in a million years.
He grabbed a broom leaning against the wall. “Hand me that dustpan there. I can’t do much tonight because I need to get Jess on home to bed, but I can at least get this mess cleaned up a little.”
“I can manage,”