One Snowy Night Read online

  The truth was, with Sweet Home being so small, it would be hard to avoid him. Nearly everyone came into the Hungry Bear for supplies or to have lunch in one of the booths in the front corner of the building. She would have to come up with a plan to avoid Donovan, if he showed up.

  Hope entered the Hungry Bear and saw Sparkle waiting on two men, probably linemen, if the truck outside belonged to them. She waved to Hope.

  Sparkle was anything but sparkly. She and Hope had been born the same day; Hope’s mom and Piney had shared a room at Regional Hospital. Sparkle and Hope were never friends in school, as Sparkle had been super quiet, her strawberry-blond hair curtaining her face and her expressions. The kids talked about her behind her back, but she didn’t seem to notice. For the last seventeen years, though, Hope had considered Sparkle her closest friend. Living in a bus with Sparkle and Piney had shown Hope that they’d all been wrong about Sparkle. She was quirky and funny when she felt comfortable enough to open up, and Hope couldn’t imagine her life without her now.

  “How are you feeling today?” Hope asked, referring to her recovery from surgery.

  “Better,” Sparkle said.

  Hope touched her arm. “Don’t overdo. Your mom and I can handle things down here. You know that.”

  Sparkle shot Hope one of her impish smiles. “I just don’t want you two to replace me with one of the out-of-work lumberjacks.”

  “Not a chance.”

  Piney was waving Hope over to the cash register, where she was checking out Miss Lisa, one of the older women in town.

  Miss Lisa grabbed Hope’s arm, bringing her to a stop. “Did you hear Donovan Stone is coming back to Sweet Home?”

  Normally, Miss Lisa’s gossip felt harmless, but right now, it was a wallop to Hope’s stomach. “Yes, I heard.” She tried to keep moving, as if there were an emergency in the back, but Miss Lisa’s bony fingers had turned into vise grips.

  “You and that Stone boy were thick as thieves when you were children. Do you remember?”

  “Yes, we were good friends.” Until I killed his brother.

  Miss Lisa gave her an exaggerated wink. “More than friends, weren’t you?”

  Hope pulled away. “Don’t believe everything you hear.”

  Before Hope could sprint away, Piney must’ve taken pity on her and said, “Hope, I need you to work in the stockroom today. To figure out what needs to be ordered for next week.”

  Perfect! This would keep her out of view from Donovan, if he showed up, and of course, anyone else who wanted to speculate about who Ella’s father was. But hiding in the stockroom wouldn’t stop the tongue-wagging that was certainly going on around town. “Sure.” Hope headed down the aisle toward the back of the store.

  But Miss Lisa got in the last word. “If I see Donovan, I’ll be sure to point him toward the Hungry Bear to find you.”

  What could Hope say? Thank you? This wasn’t the first time Miss Lisa had embarrassed Hope. And just like that, Hope felt thirteen all over again, as that bittersweet memory came over her.

  During a Sisterhood of the Quilt gathering, Miss Lisa had teased that Hope had a crush on Donovan, just because she was talking to him in the doorway. When Hope ran from the room, red-faced and on the brink of tears, her mom had followed.

  “Don’t let Miss Lisa get under your skin,” her mother said.

  “She has no right to say those things. She’s so obnoxious.”

  “I know it seems that way, but you should feel sorry for her. She has no family—no kids, no husband. This community is all she has, and what seems like teasing or gossiping is just her way of connecting with other people.”

  “Tell her to stop!” Hope said.

  “Here is what’s good about Miss Lisa. She’s an excellent quilter and loves to teach others. Ask her to show you how to hand-appliqué and I bet she’ll be nice to you in the future.”

  Mom had been right. The next time Hope saw Miss Lisa, she asked for help on a Sunbonnet Sue quilt for Izzie. Miss Lisa had beamed and been a patient teacher to Hope. That connection had kept Miss Lisa in check even when Hope had turned up pregnant at seventeen. But apparently there was an expiration date on praising Miss Lisa’s quilting abilities, because she seemed in rare form today. Hope’s mom wasn’t here anymore to make her feel better. And the Sisterhood of the Quilt was no more, too.

  Hope stopped by the canned peas, turned around, and came back to the front of the store with purpose. “Do you still quilt, Miss Lisa? I remember your quilts were the most exquisite in the borough. I loved your Baltimore quilts. Do you still have them?”

  Miss Lisa’s brows knitted together and she looked sad. “I haven’t quilted in years. My eyes don’t work good anymore.”

  Hope felt sorry for her and took a step nearer. “I’d love to come over sometime and look at your collection.” She didn’t know where the offer had come from. Where was she going to find the time to pay a call on Miss Lisa?

  The old woman perked up. “Would you bring your daughter with you?”

  “Sure.” If Hope could get her to come.

  “How about tomorrow evening?”

  “Let me check with Ella to see if she’s free.”

  Miss Lisa dug in her purse and came up with a pad of paper. “Write down your number so I can call you in the morning.”

  Hope started questioning whether she’d done the right thing. But she took the paper and wrote down her number.

  “Eighteen-fifty,” Piney said to Miss Lisa.

  Miss Lisa smiled brightly at Hope but spoke to Piney. “Hold my groceries. I need to get some more.”

  “Talk to you tomorrow.” Feeling resigned, Hope walked away, kicking herself for taking on one more thing. She couldn’t imagine a life where she had time for herself once in a while—to soak in the tub, read a magazine, or just time to daydream.

  But the reality was she had inventory to count and a list to make for next week’s order. She settled into her two-hour shift, alone in the back. An hour and a half later, Piney called on her phone.

  “I need you to come to the front and watch things here. Sparkle isn’t feeling well, and I need to get her upstairs. You can close up, can’t you?”

  “I’ll be right there.” Hope wanted to stay in the back. But being in the back room hadn’t given her anxiety a rest. Instead, being alone gave her mind time to wander to old memories and good times with Donovan. Though her heart would like to see him again, she couldn’t. It wasn’t just that she wanted to grant him his wish of never seeing her again; she also didn’t want him to see that she’d never become the person she’d envisioned for herself, that she’d never even left Sweet Home. Hope trudged to the front, passing Sparkle on the way.

  “Sorry to take you from inventory,” Sparkle said. “Mom insists she has to go up to the apartment with me. Between you and me”—Sparkle leaned toward Hope conspiratorially but winced from the movement—“I think Mom’s feet are bothering her today.”

  “You go rest. I don’t mind watching the front.” As long as a certain person from her past didn’t come in to haunt her.

  Piney squeezed Hope’s hand as she walked by. “See you bright and early in the morning.”

  “You bet.” Hope smiled at Mr. Brewster, who was making his way to the front with a loaf of bread. “How are you today, Mr. Brewster?”

  He grinned at her. “Better than I’ve been in a long time.”

  Hope wondered what was up with him. He was a nice man, but he never looked this happy. She took his money, stashed his bread in his reusable shopping bag, and wished him a good evening. Only twenty more minutes until closing.

  There was a steady stream of last-minuters, picking up tidbits for tonight’s dinner and tomorrow’s lunch. At five to five, a tall man in a parka came through the door with a puppy peeking out of his jacket.

  Hope reached forward to pet the
dog. “Hey, cutie, what’s your name?”

  The man pushed back his hood and Donovan emerged. At least a version of the Donovan she’d known.

  Donovan appeared as shocked as she was.

  Every emotion hit her—surprise, happiness, regret, longing for the life she gave up long ago. And on top of everything else, utter embarrassment, as she was dressed in this-is-all-I-have-to-wear-as-I’m-out-of-clean-clothes-and-I’m-doing-laundry-at-Piney’s-tomorrow.

  Perhaps the greatest shock to her system was seeing that the boy she’d loved with all her heart had turned into a man. She barely recognized him. His smiling blue eyes had turned serious with worry lines beginning to show. His boyish face was serious now, too—rugged, with a shadow beard. He was handsome, knock-down gorgeous, while Hope had become a hollow shell of the girl she’d been in high school. It was humiliating.

  For a moment, time stood still, some kind of game of chicken to see who was going to speak first. Donovan finally opened his mouth, but before he could say a word—and Hope’s ears were perked and ready to hear anything he had to say after seventeen years—the bell above the door jingled and Ella bounded inside.

  “Mom, we’re out of milk. Can you bring some home? I’m on my way to Lacy’s.”

  Hope should’ve reminded her that it was a school night and to be home for dinner. Then on a much higher plane, she thought maybe she should’ve had the wherewithal to introduce the two.

  Ella . . . this is your dad.

  Donovan . . . your daughter.

  But Hope could barely breathe, let alone speak. For the first time ever, father and daughter were in the same room together, sharing the same air, the same space. Hope couldn’t wrap her head around it. Fortunately, her daughter didn’t even look at Donovan. Which was weird, as Ella usually had a crazy radar for dogs and should’ve at least seen the puppy.

  Ella just grabbed a Snickers and then the door handle. “Can you pay for this? Lacy’s waiting.” And she was out the door . . . gone.

  Donovan was gone, too, down the aisle. Which was just as well. Hope had no words.

  Piney came down the stairs. “Sparkle wants crackers.” She stopped short. “What’s wrong with you? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

  Hope kept her eyes on Piney, while tilting her head in Donovan’s direction. Her peripheral vision said he was making his way up front with a bag of puppy chow.

  “You go, buttercup,” Piney said. “I’ve got this.”

  * * *

  • • •

  HOPE IS MARRIED? It never occurred to Donovan that she’d find someone else. Someone that’s not me. His stomach suddenly cramped as if he’d done a hundred crunches.

  But he was being ridiculous. He’d dated a lot of women. No one seriously, though. No one who had been like Hope. No one he’d cared for as much as her.

  And Hope has a kid? He just couldn’t shake the feeling of regret that he’d missed so much. For all he knew, Hope had a slew of rug rats at home. By the looks of the daughter he’d seen—a teenager!—Donovan had probably only been gone two minutes before Hope got hitched.

  She hadn’t changed a bit. Except she was too skinny and had a worry line between her eyebrows. She’d matured from a pixie into a woman. Her dark brown hair was a bit longer—just past her shoulders—but still straight, still the color of hot chocolate. Back then, she’d dressed nicely, but her long-sleeve green polo with the Hungry Bear logo had seen better days and her jeans were very worn.

  “Donovan Stone! As I live and breathe,” Piney exclaimed. She might act like she wasn’t expecting him, but Mr. Brewster knew, and if he knew, the whole town did by now.

  “Hi, Ms. Douglas.”

  Piney air-batted him. “Stop with that nonsense. I’m just plain Piney.”

  There was nothing plain about her. She glowed in her yellow peace sign tee shirt and long psychedelic skirt.

  “How have you been . . . Piney?” She hadn’t changed much, either, just a few extra wrinkles, a few extra pounds, and her dark hair was gray now.

  Piney raised an eyebrow. “I’m the same. I’m not the one who’s been out in the world, making something of himself. I read about you in a Forbes article on Hope’s computer.”

  Hope. There was that name again. And where had she gone while he was picking out dog food?

  “Who’s your friend?” Piney asked.

  Donovan didn’t want to talk about the dog. He wanted to talk about Hope. But Alaskans had a special relationship with their dogs. “Mr. Brewster brought this Berner by. I’m calling him Boomer.”

  She patted Boomer’s head and laughed. “He’s going to make a great work dog for you at the lodge.”

  Why did everyone assume he was staying? “Well, here’s the thing—”

  “I’ve got some chew toys in the back.” Piney stepped from behind the counter. “You’re going to need them. Follow me.”

  He did as he was told, but he planned on finishing his sentence before getting the dog anything else. “I’m only here to put the lodge and hardware store on the market.”

  “Oh, here they are.” Piney handed them over as if she hadn’t heard him. “I’d get him at least a couple.” She glanced down at Donovan’s feet. “You don’t want to turn your fancy loafers into chewed leather, do you?”

  Donovan took four, deciding not to waste his breath on convincing her of his intent. She’d figure it out—they all would—when he headed out of town for good. He frowned, wondering what he was going to do about getting Boomer a new home. The puppy whined.

  “Can you ring me up while I take him out for a minute?” Donovan asked.

  “Sure.” Piney pulled a box of Greenies from the shelf. “You might as well get these, too. You’re going to need these to help clean his teeth when he’s a bit older.”

  “Fine.” Donovan walked to the front and then out the door. Boomer took his sweet time finding the right place to take a whiz. The temperature was dropping and Donovan still had other things on his list.

  The dog finished and Donovan picked him up, holding him like a football this time, and headed back inside.

  Piney was bagging up his dog-related items. “We don’t have single-use plastic bags in the store. You’ll have to buy a few of these for your things. Hope makes them out of old shirts and jeans that folks in Sweet Home are done with. Would you like to choose your bag?” There was quite a variety—pink flowers, blue checks, camouflage.

  “Whatever is fine.”

  Piney gave him the one with the pink flowers and a purple striped bag. He should’ve chosen.

  And since Piney was pulling a fast one on him, he decided to pump her for information. “Who did Hope marry?” Donovan figured it had to be a local boy. Maybe Jesse Montana? That was who she’d dated before.

  Piney raised a knowing eyebrow. “That’s really not for me to say. You’ll have to ask Hope.”

  “But—”

  “You better take some food with you. I have reindeer sausage left over from the lunch crowd. And some salmonberry pie. It’s good. All the sweeter since I had to fight off a bear for those berries.”

  He was getting hungry. “I could just get some cheese and crackers.”

  “I won’t take no for an answer.” Piney was out from behind the counter again and heading for the diner part of the store. “Grab yourself a bag of chips to go with your dinner. We’ll get you fixed right up.”

  Donovan acquiesced. “Do you have enough reindeer sausage for two hungry men?”

  Piney looked around, as if someone else had snuck in the store without her seeing.

  “It’s my business manager—Rick. Didn’t he stop by here?”

  “Don’t know. Maybe Sparkle or Hope took care of him.”

  “Anyway,” Donovan said, “Rick is here helping me wrap things up.” Maybe Piney would take the hint this time.

 
“Sure, I have plenty.” She opened the lid of one of the steamers. “Forget the chips. There’s a couple of baked potatoes in here. Just the thing for hungry men.”

  A hot meal did sound good. “Thanks, Piney.”

  She finished packaging up his dinner on paper plates covered with aluminum foil before walking back. As she got close, Boomer started sniffing, as if there might be a manly meal in there for him, too.

  Piney grabbed the camo bag this time and put the plates inside. “I wouldn’t give him any reindeer sausage, no matter how much he begs. It’ll be too spicy for him.”

  Donovan looked down at Boomer. “Did you hear that? No reindeer sausage for you.”

  The dog looked away, as if pretending not to hear.

  Donovan handed her his credit card. “Where does Hope live?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “Just curious.”

  “On Rescue Drive.”

  Where the cheap rentals and trailer park were. Donovan felt sorry for her that she’d married a man who couldn’t take care of her.

  Piney handed back his card. “You know we have grocery delivery, if you need it. Just give me a call.” She passed him a business card.

  “I’m not going to be here long enough to need groceries,” he said, driving the point home.

  Once again, she didn’t respond.

  Donovan gathered his homemade bags. “Thanks for dinner.”

  She laughed. “Don’t worry. I put it on your card.”

  “I expected you would.”

  “See you soon,” Piney said.

  But Donovan didn’t think so. He might be curious about what Hope had been up to, just to fill in the blanks. That didn’t mean he wanted to come face-to-face with her again.