He didn’t even think about it. He just slid his arm around her and nudged her down onto the bench, across from where Hannah sat, watching them both with her evasive way of viewing the world around her. “Hannah,” he said calmly as he sat down beside the little girl, “this is my friend, Leandra. Can you say hello?”
She kept her gaze half-averted from them. “Say hello,” she repeated obediently. Her thumb steadily stroked the wheel of the matchbox car she was holding, turning it again and again.
“Tabby.” He caught his little sister’s attention as she was bustling around behind the counter. “Can we have some more coffee over here?”
“Coffee here,” Hannah repeated softly. She shifted, pressing her shoulder against Evan’s side. He smoothed his hand through her shoulder-length hair. Despite the convoluted history entwining their families, she was a light in his life.
“I should be going,” Leandra said.
“Wait until Tabby has a chance to top off your coffee. And when’s the last time you ate? I heard you order the special. So unless you plan on walking out on the order, you might as well relax.”
Her lashes shielded those dark, dark brown eyes. Bambi eyes, he used to think. Round, velvety soft and surrounded by lashes that were long and delicate, all at the same time.
Tabby arrived with the coffee carafe, saving him from his teenage, angst-ridden memories. “Your food will be up next, Leandra. Ev, you or Hannah want anything else?”
Hannah had made a typical mess of her toast and scrambled eggs, eating half of each and decorating the table with the other half. “We’re good, Tabby. Thanks.”
“No prob.” She was moving off in a flash.
“For some reason, I’m always surprised at how good she is at this. Tabby’s worked here for more than a year now, but it is still a surprise.”
“Your thoughts have her perpetually stuck in pigtails, playing with dolls?”
“Playing Little League baseball, more like. But, yeah.”
Leandra’s lips curved ever so faintly. The tiny smile was heartbreakingly sad, though. “I know the feeling.”
He hadn’t gone to California for Emi’s funeral.
He should have.
He was Jake’s best friend, wasn’t he?
Something, though, had kept him away. And he’d never forgiven himself for that particular display of cowardice. But before he could form any words, Leandra was looking—somewhat stalwartly, he thought—at Hannah.
“How old are you, Hannah?”
She didn’t look up from spinning the wheels on her little car. “Leandra is talking to you, Hannah,” he prompted calmly.
“Talking to you,” she repeated.
“It takes her a while to warm up to new people,” he excused.
“I understand.”
Did she? He wasn’t all that certain. Leandra Clay may have grown up in Weaver, but he knew her life had been fairly charmed—at least until the devastating loss of her daughter. And now she worked on a show that followed veterinarians around, for God’s sake. She observed life now, instead of living it.
“Four,” Hannah suddenly said.
If Leandra was surprised by the belated response, she didn’t show it. “Four is a fun age to be. I like your car, there. Is it your favorite one?”
“Yes. It’s red.” Hannah didn’t look up as she replied.
“I like red, too.”
Hannah’s thumb spun the wheels. She didn’t reply.
Tabby delivered Leandra’s meal, as well as two neatly wrapped packages of cinnamon rolls, and disappeared just as quickly. Leandra picked up her fork, but didn’t move it near enough her food to suit him. “How is Katy doing these days? Is she still in the service?”
“She’s in Afghanistan.”
Her eyebrows drew together, and he caught her sliding a glance at Hannah. “Scary,” she murmured.
“Yeah. But she’s supposed to be home soon.”
“You all must be relieved.”
He nodded. “Hannah’s been staying with her grandparents in Braden while Katy’s been serving overseas. She had been living in North Carolina near her base, but when she got sent to Afghanistan about a year ago, she brought Hannah here to Wyoming.”
“What about—” she hesitated for a moment “—Keith?”
He was surprised she remembered the name, since he was pretty sure Leandra had never even met his half-sister’s husband. “Yeah. Keith. He split a few years ago. Permanently.”
“Will Katy stay in Wyoming when she gets back?”
He shook his head. “She plans to go back to North Carolina.”
She slipped a glance at Hannah. “Does she visit you often?”
Not as often as he would like. “She spends a day with me now and then. Gives Sharon a break.”
She was silent for a moment, studying him, as if she were trying to put together a puzzle she’d never before noticed. “You’ll miss Hannah when she goes,” she finally observed.
He didn’t bother denying it. Just nodded and wondered darkly why the hell Leandra would sound so surprised by the realization.
“And your…Katy’s parents. How are they?”
His lips twisted. “You mean Darian, I suppose.”
“I mean both of them,” she said.
Given the way her brown eyes had flickered, he doubted it. “Sharon is fine.” If you didn’t count her increasing propensity for pretending Hannah was just like any other kid around Braden and Weaver.
“And Darian?” Her chin had come up again in that way he remembered from days of old.
“My old man is the same as ever,” he drawled.
Her lips tightened. “Drew is your dad.”
Thank the good Lord. And he felt his usual tangle of guilt for feeling the way he did when Drew was his dad in every way that ought to matter. “Yeah, and we all know why that came about.” Drew had married his mom after his half brother Darian had gotten her pregnant and left her flat.
Her eyebrows pulled together, making a crease in her pretty face. “Nobody in this town has ever thought that way.”
He let that slide, since she was probably right.
His feelings about Darian were his own.
Didn’t make it any easier to get rid of them, though.
“Is your grandmother well?”
“Other than that she still hates my mom, dotes on Darian, pretty much ignores Hannah and sort of tolerates the rest of us, she’s fine.”
“She never was the brightest of women,” Leandra muttered. Her cheeks turned pink. “Sorry.”
He shrugged. “Not everyone has grandparents like yours.”
“Well, Squire is a one-of-a-kind man.” Her lips curved faintly. “And Gloria’s pretty much a saint.”
“How’re the plans for the party shaping up?”
“Good.” She seemed almost as relieved as him at the change of subject. “The trick of course, is to keep Squire from finding out. Not an easy task when practically the entire