Precious Blessings. Jillian Hart. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Jillian Hart
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Современные любовные романы
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missed the gentleness of a woman in his life. Katherine McKaslin made him remember a time when he hadn’t been so isolated. When he’d been a man unjaded by life and believing in love’s illusions.

      Yep, buddy, it’s best to just keep on going.

      So he put the car in Reverse, backed away from the curb and didn’t stop until the bookstore disappeared from his rearview mirror. Until there was just blinding snow behind him and a long, lonely night’s work ahead.

      Katherine knew what her sister was going to make of it. The moment the back door swung open, she braced for the worst. She was about to get hit with double barrels.

      Aubrey, Ava’s twin and mirror image, rushed down the devotionals aisle. “Are those the flowers? You were so totally right, Av. White roses. Talk about classy.”

      Behind the cash register, Katherine tried to take the kidding with the love it was meant. “Nothing says thank you like white roses, don’t you think? It’s a thank-you, girls, not a sign of romance.”

      Ava abandoned all pretense of shelving and trotted up to add her two cents. “That’s the story she’s sticking to—”

      “—but we know better,” Aubrey finished.

      “You should have seen how he was looking at her.”

      “Like on the tape?”

      “More.”

      The twins nodded together, looking as if they were having a twin moment of shared thoughts.

      Katherine grabbed the cash tray and closed the empty drawer. “I hope you two are headed home. The state patrol just closed the highway outside of town.”

      “The state patrol.” Ava’s tone held huge significance.

      “Exactly. She didn’t seem riveted to their bulletins before.”

      “You two.” Her face felt hot. Couldn’t they see they were embarrassing her? It wasn’t easy being the big sister. No respect. “Go. Shoo. Call me when you get home.”

      “She just doesn’t want to talk about him,” Aubrey said to Ava.

      “Nope. We’ve seen this stage before.”

      “The denial stage?”

      “Uh-huh.” The twins bobbed their heads together. “Are you sure you don’t want us to stay?” they asked in perfect unison.

      “I’m sure.” She loved her sisters. It was impossible not to. They were dear, even at the ripe old ages of twenty-seven, dressed in similar colors and style, naturally identical in just about every way, from the long sweep of their platinum hair to the lopsided crook of their grins. From the day they’d come home from the hospital, she’d always known they were special. A girl couldn’t have more loving and loyal sisters anywhere. “Go. I’ll give you twenty minutes to make it home and if I don’t hear from you, I’m calling.”

      “Okay, okay.”

      “Bye.”

      The twins walked away together, their voices cheerful and growing faint, and then fainter. The back door closed, and she was alone.

      And why did Jack Munroe stay on her mind the entire time she closed up and totaled the day’s deposit? Maybe it was the delicate perfume from the tightly closed rosebuds. Maybe it was the big deal the twins had made about the man who was showing simple courtesy by bringing flowers as a thank-you. Either way, she was not in denial about liking Jack.

      Jack Munroe with his grizzly-bear temper and his rigid-spine stance was a black-and-white kind of man. No gray areas allowed. He was an officer of the law. He spent his work life judging others, finding them guilty of speeding or reckless driving or worse. She’d seen the mortification on his face when he’d admitted what his daughter had done. He was a play-by-the rules kind of man.

      She was looking for that kind of man, but she would guess that Jack Munroe had never made a major mistake in his life. He might have a blind spot when it came to his daughter, and rightly so, otherwise he didn’t look like the kind of man who forgave mistakes easily.

      So, that was that.

      Chapter Four

      “This is lame, Dad. I won’t do it.”

      Jack lifted his gaze from the mountainside road long enough to take in the confrontational jut of Hayden’s chin and the fury in her cool eyes.

      Uh-oh. He knew that look. It was the same one he’d been dealing with for most of the week, ever since he’d hauled her home from Katherine McKaslin’s store.

      “I won’t and you can’t make me.”

      Keep your cool, Jack. Through the haze of falling snow, he negotiated the final curve and spotted the exit for the ski resort. “You’ll choose to do this or I’m adding more volunteer time to your sentence.”

      No answer came, but the fury of her silence increased the temperature in the car by a full ten degrees.

      It didn’t matter. Nothing could change his mind. He’d decided Hayden was going to join Marin’s youth group and participate in every single youth-group activity until he got his good Hayden back. He knew she was hiding somewhere behind the sullen belligerence. If he had to devote his day off to that cause, then fine. No sacrifice was too great for his little girl.

      I saw that in her. That she’s good, without a doubt.

      Why did Katherine’s words come back to him? He could hear her dulcet, precise tone. Could remember the play of the overhead lights on her straight blond locks, held neatly in place by a sensible barrette over each ear. She’d been understated elegance in her modest black sweater and slacks. Katherine didn’t need makeup or high fashion to be lovely.

      Eventually Hayden would come to the same conclusion about her own appearance. His ears still rang from the heated argument they’d had over her makeup and shocking fashion statement. She’d been wearing her approved school clothes when she left the house each morning, he’d learned, and then had changed at Jan’s house, reversing the process after school.

      And you didn’t even guess it, man. That’s what ate at him the most.

      Hayden stared out the window with enough hatred to melt half the snow pack on the mountain peaks. “This is all that awful store lady’s fault.”

      “Miss McKaslin is the reason I didn’t have to bail you out.”

      “Right. I can’t believe how wound up everybody got over some lousy figurines. Just chill.”

      Jack hit the brakes and the Jeep skidded into a parking slot. “What has gotten into you? Do you think if you push me hard enough, I’ll move us back to Phoenix? Is that what this is about? Then you’re flat wrong, missy.”

      “I hate this place. I wanna go home.”

      “This is home. If you don’t want to like it here, fine. But you will do one more week’s volunteer work—”

      “Dad!”

      “Another word, and it’ll be two.” He waited for the red haze of rage beating dully in his eye sockets to fade. The heartbreak of a disappointed father did not.

      Hayden’s face had scrunched up in resentment, but at least she held back. It was an effort, he could see that by the hard cinch of her mouth, but she stayed silent. That was an improvement.

      Relief cooled some of the anger, but didn’t begin to touch the ache in his heart. “Get your things. Pastor Marin said you kids are meeting for prayer and fellowship in the lodge before the group lesson.”

      More sullen silence. Hayden whipped her door open and shot out of the car, not so eager to join the youth-group meeting, he figured, but to get away from him. Well, he could handle anything she could dish out because he was her father and he was committed. One hundred thousand percent.