Mainly because he figured that if he didn’t, Anna would do it the minute he left.
Then he picked Jess up and settled her back against his chest. “That’s the best I can do for now. I’ll be by first thing in the morning to take some measurements so I can get the materials I’ll need for the repair.”
“You’re fixing it?” Anna looked so jittery at the idea that it was almost funny.
Almost.
“I’m a building contractor, Anna. Fixing things is what I do.” That doubtful expression she was wearing was a little insulting. “Is that a problem? Because I can get somebody else to handle the repair, but I can’t promise you when it’ll happen. Summer’s a busy season, and every man worth his salt is up to his elbows in work right now. But if you’d rather have somebody else fix this—”
“No! You fix Miss Anna’s bookstore, Daddy. I don’t want Miss Trisha to make this place go away.”
A man’s life could change on a dime. Hoyt had lived long enough and hard enough to know that firsthand. And when it did, for a second or two, time just sort of...stopped.
As he looked down at Jess, Hoyt could hear the ticking of the old clock on the wall of the bookstore and the flapping of the flimsy awnings Principal Delaney had paid some jackleg out-of-town guy to install on the front of the building. But as far as Hoyt was concerned, the whole world had narrowed down to a tiny girl in a pink T-shirt.
After three long years of silence, Jess had finally spoken.
Dr. Mills had assured him this would happen one day, but he’d almost stopped hoping for it. Even the therapist had started to worry. He’d seen it in her eyes the last time he’d taken Jess to Atlanta for an appointment. Both of them knew the statistics for selective mutism, and they knew Jess’s silence had dragged on way too long.
Act normal when it happens. The counselor’s optimistic instructions replayed themselves in his head. It’s a delicate moment. Don’t make a big deal out of it.
Yeah, right. Turned out that was a lot easier to talk about than it was to do. He’d never been much of a crier, but right now his eyes were stinging like he’d been chopping onions.
“Wh—” His own voice came out so rusty that he had to clear his throat and try again. “What did you say, sweetheart?”
Jess put her small hands on each of his cheeks, tilting his head down until their foreheads bumped together. She looked deeply into his eyes. “Fix Miss Anna’s bookstore, Daddy. Pretty please promise?”
Pretty please promise. His gut twisted as he remembered the last time he’d heard that cutesy phrase. The memory was sharp. He could almost smell that weird hospital odor again and see a smaller Jess’s tear-streaked face.
The moment wasn’t something he was likely to forget. It was the last time he’d heard his daughter speak...when she’d asked him to keep the promise he never should have made in the first place.
Mommy will get better, honey. I promise.
He shook off the memory. This time was different. This time Jess was asking for something he could do.
“Sure thing, baby. Daddy’ll fix everything, don’t you worry. This bookstore’s not going anywhere. I promise.”
Anna cleared her throat, but Hoyt jerked his head sharply and cut her a pleading look.
Not now.
Anna must’ve read his face correctly. She bit her lip. “We should talk, Hoyt.” Her voice was carefully calm, but her expression wasn’t.
“We will. I have to get Jess home now, but I’ll come back tomorrow. We can talk everything over then.” He didn’t wait for her to respond.
He had no idea why Principal Delaney’s run-down old bookstore had been the key to unlock Jess’s speech when nothing else had worked, but he wouldn’t waste time wondering about it. The game he’d been losing had finally changed, and Hoyt had possession of the ball for the first time in three years.
Tomorrow he’d find out exactly what that funny expression on Anna’s face meant, and he’d work his way around whatever problem was standing between him and the end zone.
Whatever it was, he already knew it didn’t stand a chance.
At six thirty the next morning, Anna set her devotional book down on the counter and refilled her coffee mug. She was going to need all the caffeine she could get today.
She hadn’t slept well. Yesterday’s events had played on an endless loop in her mind. Trisha’s mean-spirited offer on the building, followed by Hoyt’s frantic visit and the horrifying discovery that Anna had locked an emotionally traumatized five-year-old in her storage room.
Then the astonishment of Jess speaking. That was the memory that got to her most of all. The incredulous joy on Hoyt’s face... She still got choked up, thinking about it.
The Bradley family had been through a lot. The whole of Pine Valley had sympathized with Hoyt in his grief and worried over Jess’s long silence.
Especially Anna’s father. He’d written Jess and Hoyt’s names on the very top of the prayer list he’d kept tucked in his Bible. Her father loved everybody in his small town, but Jess Bradley held an extra special place in his heart. He’d always considered the little girl’s love of books one of his biggest successes as an educator.
Before his memory had completely failed him, her father had told her proudly about how Hoyt’s wife had brought Jess in for story times and other special bookstore events.
“Neither I nor his teachers could ever get Hoyt interested in literature, but we did manage to reach Marylee Sherman. She was an avid reader, and she was doing her best to make sure that baby of theirs loved books, too. It’s a shame how things work out sometimes. It truly is.”
Her father would have been so pleased to see how Marylee’s efforts continued to pay off. Jess’s passion for books had grown until it rivaled Anna’s own. Come to think of it, because of Jess, Anna had sold more books to Hoyt Bradley over the past couple of years than to anybody else in Pine Valley.
Her father would’ve chuckled over that.
Anna might have appreciated the irony a lot more herself if it hadn’t meant seeing Hoyt on a regular basis. Even after all these years, Hoyt Bradley made her feel...uncomfortable.
She hadn’t always felt that way. Once upon a time she’d actually tried to run into Hoyt, hanging around hallways where she knew he had classes, making long detours by the athletes’ boisterous lunch table, hoping he’d look up and say hi.
That was the sort of thing that happened when you were shy and socially invisible, and your beloved English teacher asked you to tutor the local football star. Anna’s job had been to keep Hoyt eligible to play, but she hadn’t stopped there. She’d boosted Hoyt’s GPA enough that he’d qualified for a college football scholarship.
Then copies of senior exams had been discovered in the gym locker room, and all eyes had turned on Anna. After all, people had said, as the principal’s daughter, she had access to the school after hours, and Hoyt was...well, Hoyt Bradley. Any girl, especially a nerdy bookworm like Anna, would be willing to do whatever a guy like that asked her to do.
It all made perfect sense.
It just wasn’t true.
Anna had no idea how Hoyt had managed to get those test keys, but whatever he’d done, he’d done without