Hometown Hope Page 6

  He’d definitely done some dumb stuff in his time, but he couldn’t remember ever messing up quite this bad before. And he sure couldn’t fall back on his standby apology tactics. Imagine him...kissing Anna Delaney.

  How crazy would that be?

  A few minutes later, he realized he was still sitting in his truck, staring blankly at his dusty dashboard. He blinked and shook his head. He must’ve zoned out there for a minute.

  Anyway, he didn’t have time to sit here feeling guilty. He’d have to figure out how to apologize to Anna later. Right now he had even bigger problems to deal with. He’d get Jess back to the house and see if Dr. Mills could work in a quick phone consultation. Maybe together they could figure out some kind of damage control that would get Jess talking again.

  He just hoped that whatever they came up with didn’t hinge on asking Anna Delaney for any more favors.

  Chapter Five

  “So? What do you think I should do?” Relieved he was finally done stumbling through his retelling of the mess he’d made, Hoyt waited for Jacob Stone’s answer.

  He didn’t have to wait long.

  “I think you should ask Anna to talk to Jess and explain what happened.” The pastor of Pine Valley Community Church leaned back in his squawking office chair as Hoyt groaned. “What?”

  Two days had passed since the airplane incident, and Jess still hadn’t spoken a word. Hoyt hadn’t been able to get in touch with Dr. Mills, and the therapist’s voice message said her inbox was too full for additional messages. He knew she would call when she could, but he also had a gut feeling that he needed to act fast if he was going to get Jess talking again.

  He’d come to Jacob out of a desperate need to do something. The local minister was pretty good at figuring out dicey situations, and Hoyt had hoped Jacob might have a suggestion.

  A helpful suggestion. Not one that had disaster written all over it.

  Jacob frowned as he considered Hoyt’s expression. “Do you really want to hear my opinion on this? Because selective mutism is pretty far outside my wheelhouse.”

  “You know everybody involved, and I trust you. So, yeah. I want to hear your take on this. I’m just not sure dragging Anna back into this is the best idea.”

  Jacob’s lips twitched. “I can see why. That plane screwup of yours was epic.”

  Stone never pulled any punches. Normally that was something Hoyt appreciated. Right now he wasn’t so sure. “I apologized, but I seriously doubt Anna’s going to be willing to do any more favors for me.”

  “Maybe not, but the only way to find out is to ask her. I’m a big believer in being direct.”

  Hoyt knew that better than most. Back in the dark days after Marylee’s death, when Hoyt had started drinking to dull his pain, the preacher had squared off with him and said the hard things that had needed saying.

  Hoyt didn’t like to think what could have happened to him—or to Jess—if it hadn’t been for the unflinching honesty of the man sitting across this desk.

  “I could be wrong, of course,” the pastor continued. “But in my experience kids respond well to honesty. If I were you, I’d ask Anna to tell Jess exactly why she panicked in the airplane.”

  “I just don’t see what good that could do at this point. Anna’s mom died in a plane crash, remember, and that’s probably the last thing Jess needs to hear about right now. What if bringing it back up just freaks them both out all over again?”

  “First of all, don’t start thinking what if. Those two words almost never lead you down any path you’d want to be on. And second, I don’t know what the result will be, and neither do you. No matter how hard you try, Hoyt, some things, some important things, are always going to fall outside of your control. That’s where faith comes in.”

  “Maybe you’re right. It just sounds risky to me.”

  “Everything worthwhile involves some risk.” Jacob’s eyes cut to a photograph on his desk that showed his pretty wife, Natalie, holding his adopted son, Ethan, in her arms. A little smile tipped up his lips, and he spoke again without looking away from the picture. “God usually shines His light only on the next step we’re supposed to take. He wants us to trust Him for the rest of it.” Jacob stood and held out his hand. “But believe me, He always comes through. And when He does, it’s amazing.”

  “All right.” Hoyt shook the minister’s hand. “You win. I’ll ask Anna to talk to Jess. But you’d better toss up a few extra prayers because Delaney wasn’t any big fan of mine before I scared her out of her wits in that airplane.”

  “You never know.” Jacob grinned. “Anna might surprise you.”

  “She generally does.”

  At seven forty-five the next morning, Hoyt pulled his truck up in front of the bookstore and glanced in the rearview mirror. Jess blinked curiously at him from her booster seat.

  “Remember what I told you, sweetheart? We’re going to stop in and see Miss Anna before going to day care.” An instant smile lit up Jess’s freckled face.

  Not too long ago, those smiles had been the highlights of his days, but they weren’t enough anymore. He desperately needed to hear the sweet piping sound of his daughter’s voice again.

  Please, Lord, let this work.

  He hoped Jacob was right about all this. He wished he could’ve checked in with Dr. Mills before going ahead with the stunt the preacher had proposed, but she hadn’t responded to his text. He suspected that meant her mother’s condition had worsened, and he didn’t feel comfortable pestering the therapist while she was coping with a family crisis.

  Anna, on the other hand, had answered on the first ring about half an hour ago. He’d waited that long to call, even though it meant going in late to the job site on a busy day. He hadn’t waited long enough, apparently. Anna had sounded sleepy.

  And confused. “You want me to do what?”

  Hoyt tried explaining again, although he didn’t think he’d done a better job of it the second time. He trusted Jacob Stone more than any other man alive, but this still seemed like a low-down thing to ask somebody to do.

  I’m asking you to talk about your personal pain—about the thing that left such a big scar on your life that you’ve had to take pills to get over it—just on the slim hope that it’ll help my little girl start talking again. You don’t mind, do you?

  If somebody had asked him to do something like that after Marylee’s death, he’d probably have slugged them.

  Jacob Stone thought this was a good idea, but the minister never balked at asking people for favors—or at doing them. He seemed to feel that was all part of being a practicing Christian. But Hoyt didn’t much like approaching anybody with his hand out. And somebody like Anna? Somebody who right now probably felt like she owed him a swift kick rather than a favor?

  He definitely didn’t like asking her.

  But for Jess’s sake he had. And after a short hesitation, Anna had agreed.

  “If you and Pastor Stone think it would help, of course I’ll talk to Jess. Or I’ll try. I’ve never...talked much about that before to anybody. What if I make things worse?”

  What if. Jacob’s warning echoed in Hoyt’s memory.

  “Take a shot, Anna. That’s all I’m asking.”

  “All right. Come on in before the store opens. Maybe in half an hour? Would that work?”

  He’d told her, sure. That’d work. Of course, if she’d told him to show up in the middle of the night wearing a tuxedo and scuba flippers, he’d have made that work, too.

  So here he was.

  Movement inside the store caught his attention. Anna was unlatching the bookstore’s door. She looked up, and their eyes met. For a second, she studied him, chewing on her bottom lip. Then her gaze slid away from his toward the rear seat of his king cab, where Jess always rode. Anna tightened her lips, looked back at him and gave him a short nod.

  He rec
ognized that look. He’d felt it on his own face more times than he could count.

  Anna was cowboying up. She was steeling herself to go through with this, no matter how uncomfortable it made her, because he’d told her it might help Jess.

  That was Anna. She never backed down from doing what she thought was right, no matter how tough it was. You might not always know where you stood with Anna Delaney, but you sure always knew where she stood.

  Smack-dab in the middle of the straight and narrow.

  Every single time.

  Hoyt’s mind flitted back to the hopeful remark Jacob Stone had tossed off in his church office. She might surprise you.

  Nope, Hoyt realized. As a matter of fact, Anna hadn’t surprised him at all.

  * * *

  As Anna opened the door of the bookstore, the familiar smells of an early summer morning wafted in. There was a whiff of damp asphalt, the musty odor of the old canvas awnings shading her share of sidewalk and the comforting tease of cinnamon from the church coffee shop across the square.

  Everything was perfectly ordinary, Anna reassured herself. Everything was fine.

  She could totally do this. In fact, if there was any hope that talking about her panic attack would help Jess, she had to do this.

  She pasted a wobbly smile on her face as Hoyt and Jess approached. Jess looked as adorable as always. Her blond ponytail bobbed, and her sneakers lit up with some sort of built-in sparkles as she skipped along the sidewalk, her little fingers twined trustingly around her dad’s hand.

  Anna had a sudden image of broad-shouldered Hoyt picking out tiny pink shoes, paying extra for the ones that lit up in order to tease a smile from his grieving daughter. A confusing flood of emotions washed through her.

  Hoyt could annoy the paint right off a wall, but there was no getting around it—the man definitely had his good points.

  Anna snapped the lid on her warm, fuzzy feelings as fast as she could and shoved them away. She didn’t need any of those weird, Hoyt-inspired flutters. Not right now. She already had more than enough to cope with. Still, she couldn’t help glancing up into his face as he neared her, and what she saw only made her jangled nerves swirl around more.

  He looked exhausted. Judging by the dark smudges under his eyes and those tense grooves around his mouth, he hadn’t slept much since she’d last seen him. Jess going silent again was killing him. He caught her looking and offered her a tired, hopeful smile. Immediately Anna’s already-hammering heartbeat accelerated into a gear she hadn’t known existed.

  Even exhausted, this man’s smile packed a serious punch.

  Anna drew in one of those good, slow breaths her psychology professor used to encourage. One thing was for sure. She was not going to have another panic attack in front of Jess. She’d already taken one of her pills as a precaution, and, given the way her pulse was skittering around right now, it was a good thing she had. She doubted she could make this situation any better, but she was determined not to make it any worse.

  “Good morning!” The greeting echoed in the empty store, too loud and too cheery. Anna didn’t need the startled look Jess threw at her to know that she was already blowing this.

  The little girl started toward her favorite bookshelf, then halted and glanced at Anna. Her father must have explained that they weren’t here for an ordinary book-browsing expedition. Anna swallowed hard and smiled.

  “Jess, there’s something I wanted to show you up in my apartment. Want to come see?”

  Jess nodded, curiosity sparkling in her blue eyes. So far, so good. As Anna led the way over to the worn wooden steps that led to her loft, she realized that Hoyt was following them.

  Wait a minute. Hoyt was coming, too? She definitely hadn’t counted on that.

  She’d rehearsed her fumbling little talk half a dozen times since Hoyt’s unexpected phone call, but never once had it occurred to her that he’d be listening in. What she planned to talk about was—personal.

  It was hard enough to share it with Jess, but talking about it with Hoyt in the room, looking at her the whole time? She’d never be able to pull that off. She tripped over the top riser of the steps, and Hoyt reached out a quick arm to catch her elbow.

  “Steady, there.” His voice was casual and so was his touch, but Anna’s stupid flutters shot into the stratosphere anyway.

  Okay, it was official. She was toast.

  Hoyt scanned the loft area with interest, apparently oblivious to her uneasiness. “I’ve never been upstairs in one of these store buildings before. I guess back in the day a lot of the store owners lived above their businesses. Pretty convenient, really.”

  “My apartment’s on the left. These rooms on the right are just storage.” She pulled the door closest to her shut, but it immediately popped back open again. “This one never shuts well.”

  “You probably just need a new doorknob. Let me see.”

  “That’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

  Too late. Hoyt had grabbed the knob and pushed the door fully open. Or as far open as it would go. He whistled through his teeth. “You’ve got a lot of stuff crammed in here, Anna.”

  Well, this was embarrassing. She’d spent the whole last half hour tidying up her apartment while talking out loud to herself, practicing what she was going to say. And now Hoyt had zeroed in on the one area in the whole building that she was most ashamed of.

  “I know. It’s stuff from the old house. My dad’s book collection mostly. The house sold fast, and I had to clean it out in a hurry. I haven’t had the time to finish going through it.”

  Or the heart. Not since she’d stumbled across her father’s journal.

  After reading that, she’d stopped going through her father’s belongings. She really couldn’t handle any more emotional land mines right now.

  She’d made a feeble attempt to organize all the junk. She’d even bought some cheap shelves and put them together all by herself. She hadn’t done a very good job; they swayed a lot when you touched them. But at least they helped get some of the stuff off the floor until she felt capable of coping with it.

  She reached past him and pulled the door firmly closed. Of course it didn’t catch and popped right back open, but Hoyt took the hint and stepped back into the hallway.

  As Anna opened the door to her small living area, her embarrassment lingered. Hoyt’s home had been so airy and well planned and attractive. Hers was exactly the opposite, cramped and makeshift, with a generous side of shabby. On a good day, she told herself the place had the feel of a trendy bohemian loft, with its exposed wooden rafters, scarred floorboards, and mix-and-match furniture in various hues of blue and green.

  On a bad day, she fixated on the impossibly stained fixtures in the tiny bathroom, the musty smell she couldn’t seem to get rid of and the fact that every stick of furniture in the place was older than she was.

  She’d moved into the apartment after her father’s death, when she’d been forced to sell their cozy suburban brick home to settle outstanding medical bills. At the time, she’d just been thankful to have someplace to go. The financial situation she’d been left with had been pretty scary. But now she felt uncomfortably aware that, while a place like this would be perfectly fine for a young undergrad, for a woman her age and with her level of education, it was a little...pathetic.

  Hoyt glanced around, his hazel eyes sharp with interest. He flicked the wobbly light switch off and on and frowned. “Has this building ever been rewired?”

  “I have no idea. Probably not.”

  Hoyt stooped to inspect an outlet. His frown darkened. “You might want to think about having it done. These fixtures are really outdated. Mind if I poke around a little while you and Jess talk?”

  “Go ahead.” If Hoyt wanted to do an impromptu building inspection, at least that would give her some privacy while she talked to Jess. He was wasting his time f
inding things that needed fixing, though. She could barely manage to pay her electrical bill these days; there was no way she could afford to have the place rewired.

  Hoyt disappeared into the kitchen, and Anna sat on the couch, patting the worn cushion beside her invitingly. “Come sit by me, Jess.”

  Jess obediently sat, giggling as the cushion dipped deeply under her slight weight. Anna smiled.

  “This couch is pretty old. But you know what? I still like to take naps on it. I’ve had it forever, and I really don’t mind it being saggy. It almost feels like it’s hugging me when I lie down.”

  Jess’s smile broadened. She bounced silently on the couch, making the spent springs squeak. Anna heard a door creak as Hoyt moved from the kitchen into the bathroom. She’d better hurry up. Reaching behind a green throw pillow, she produced a very worn, very limp brown-and-white stuffed dog.

  When she’d quickly prayed for help with this talk, this toy was the only thing that had come to mind. At first she’d hesitated, but then she’d gone to the box in her closet and taken him out.

  God specialized in bringing beauty from ashes, didn’t He? She’d see what He could do with this.

  She handed the toy to Jess. “This is Chester. I’ve had him since I was a little girl.”

  Jess examined the dilapidated puppy carefully and glanced back up at Anna, one eyebrow cocked.

  What’s this about? the little girl seemed to be asking.

  This was even harder than she’d thought. Please, God, help me here. I have no idea how to talk about this.

  “You know how your mom passed away when you were really little? Well, when I was eight, my mom died in a plane crash.” There. It was out. Anna braced herself. Jess’s expression didn’t change much. She just looked down and started toying with one of Chester’s floppy ears. “That’s why I got so scared in the airplane the other day, even though your dad is a really safe pilot. Sometimes when I think about my mom or about airplanes, my feelings can get a little too big for me to handle. I’m really sorry if I frightened you.”