Heath's Hope (The Brothers of Beauford Bend Book 5)

by Alicia Hunter Pace

  “No. I made promises to Miss Sticky and Miss Julia—promises I mean to keep. But before you go altering Noel’s door, you might want to speak with her about it.”

  “All I have to do is tell Nickolai that a peephole would keep ‘his Noel’ safe. It would be a done deal.”

  It was difficult, but Hope reached down inside and found some laughter. He had tried hard to make a joke, and she wanted to reward him.

  He looked pleased. “You left your knitting on the bench.” He held up her bag.

  And that’s when her heart finally got the message. He’d only come to return her knitting. She had to swallow the ache and find some words. Any would do.

  “Oh, I hadn’t missed it. But I would have. I’ve found that I love to knit. I’ll never be an artisan, but I do understand better why you had to make stained glass, even back when you had no idea you could support yourself.”

  He nodded and looked at the floor.

  “I’ll take that.” She reached out to take the bag.

  He tightened his grip on it. “I’ll take it upstairs for you.”

  Hope did not have the mental energy to ask him why or tell him no, so she nodded and led him up the stairs.

  He set the knitting bag on the coffee table and sat down on the sofa. She smiled a little to herself. Unlike the Beaufords and so many others who’d gone through Amelia Beauford’s etiquette classes as teens, it would never have occurred to Heath to wait to be asked to sit down or to stand until she sat. Sofas were for sitting like air was for breathing. But none of that mattered. He was the kind of man who had done his best to make a dying girl happy when he was heartbroken himself.

  “Can I get you something, Heath?”

  “Not tonight. Tomorrow I’d like you to buy me some barbecue and corn light bread, because you threw away my leftovers.”

  She studied him intently. If that was a joke, it was a very bad one. If he meant it, he would be disappointed. She really could not stand to be around him anymore. Since returning to Beauford, she’d learned something besides how to knit. She would never get over loving this man, but in order to function, she had to get as far away from him as possible.

  “I brought you something.” He removed a small, flat, tissue-wrapped package from his pocket.

  She waited for him to cross the room and give it to her. When he didn’t, she went and sat beside him on the sofa.

  He handed her the package. “I made it for you because I was sorry about how I treated you Halloween night—especially when I found out your dad had gotten hurt. I didn’t know it at the time.”

  “But you didn’t give it to me. Did that mean you weren’t sorry anymore?”

  “No. I still was. But I kept getting mad all over again.” He gestured to the package. “Open it.”

  She untied the string and found inside a stained glass jack-o’-lantern about the size of her palm.

  This was huge gesture. He really was sorry he’d given away her jack-o’-lantern to hurt her. Maybe this would help bring about the closure she needed. She couldn’t be friends, but she doubted he wanted that either. Though he did want that barbecue—probably only because she had wasted good food and owed him.

  “Thank you, Heath. This means a lot. More than you know.”

  “How does he look?” Heath gestured to the jack-o’-lantern.

  “Look? It’s beautiful. Everything you make is beautiful.”

  “No. His expression.” He let her into his brandy eyes, and she knew they were both thinking how she’d always said the other jack-o’-lantern looked like he was in love.

  She looked at the droopy mouth and slanted eyes. “Sad,” she said. “He looks sad.”

  Heath nodded. “That’s what I think. I thought he would look mad, but he just kept coming out sad.” He pushed his hair off his face. “Hope, I’m not good at this. I’m never going to be. If I were good with reading people and saying the right thing, maybe I could have kept you before.”

  Fire surged through her. “Don’t you dare blame that on yourself, Heath. Besides, if you weren’t the person you are I wouldn’t—” She stopped herself just in time.

  “Love me? That’s funny. I would think that would make me harder to love.”

  Might as well admit it. Not that it mattered.

  “I often choose the hard thing,” she said. “But I do love you. Just like you are. I always have.”

  He looked deeper into her eyes all on his own and nodded.

  “Then can’t we just pack up all this other stuff and forget about it? Because, Hope, I’m tired of being sad. I want to make you another jack-o’-lantern who looks like he’s in love.”

  That was her undoing. She began to cry.

  He was shaking when he put his hand on her cheek and met her eyes. “You know how I am. If you’re upset about something, you’ll have to come right out and tell me. Even then, I probably won’t know how to make you feel better. If I say anything, it’ll be wrong. But, Hope, I swear, I’ll try my best. And I don’t even have to try to love you. That would be like trying to sweat when I’m hot. It just is.”

  And her crying turned to laughter, because suddenly she was happy and hopeful—and also because he had unwittingly demonstrated just how badly he could mangle a romantic thought by likening his love to sweat.

  And she wouldn’t have taken the moon for that.

  He continued to look at her with stormy, questioning eyes. She’d have to give him a straight answer. He wasn’t sure she was laughing with joy.

  “Yes, Heath.” She put her hands on his cheeks. “We’ll pack up all the bad. I’ll buy you barbecue tomorrow. The first sweater I knit will be for you. We’ll be together.”

  He nodded and flashed that staccato smile. “You’ll marry me, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  “And the other thing. I’ll go if I have to but—”

  “You don’t like change. You like Beauford. You like your shop. You want to stay here.”

  “I do. But there’s no Bank of America.”

  “No. But there’s Beauford Savings and Loan, and I’m a fourth generation MacKenzie banker. It might be a hard fight to get my daddy to turn over any real work to me, but that’s a fight I’m willing to fight every day, as long as I have you to go home to.”

  And he said nothing at all. He clutched her to him and kissed her. In that kiss, she felt all the things he found so hard to put into words—longing, sweetness, love, promises, passion, and forever.

  And, if she were going to be honest about what was stirring inside her, there was also plain old, ordinary lust.

  She pulled away, breathless. “Heath. Could we take this to another room? And get rid of a few things?” She reached for a button on his shirt.

  “Oh, hell yes.” He was breathless, too. “But first. Could you do this?”

  He guided her mouth to that soft, sweet spot on his neck right above his collarbone.

  And she was home.

  Epilogue

  “I’m surprised you didn’t bring your knitting.” Heath handed Hope a plate with a piece of cake.

  They were on the terrace at Beauford Bend Plantation. It was the Saturday after Thanksgiving and a glorious Indian summer day. They had just watched Rafe Beauford marry Abby Whitman in the Rose Parlor.

  “I thought about it,” Hope said. “But I knew there’d be cake, and I didn’t want to get your sweater dirty.”

  “I would hope not for what that muskrat yarn cost.”

  “Arctic musk ox. Qiviut.”

  “Whatever.” He took a drink of his Champagne and then held it to her lips so she could take a sip.

  “Heath, the next time we see you feed her Champagne, there’ll be a wedding band on her finger.” Neyland slipped an arm around her cousin.

  “Can’t be soon enough for me,” he said.

  “I would like Daddy to be able to walk me down the aisle,” Hope said. “And meanwhile, I’m enjoying the ring I’ve got. Neyland, I may never stop telling you what a beautif
ul job you did.”

  No one would have guessed it was an engagement ring. The flat gold band was surrounded with pavé set diamonds, sapphires, rubies, and emeralds in a flower garland pattern that looked like stained glass.

  “It was interesting and an unexpected pleasure to make a ring designed by someone else,” Neyland said. “But Heath can design for me any time.”

  “It’s perfect,” Hope said.

  “I’m glad.” Neyland gave them both a kiss and went off to find Gabe.

  Hope was way too realistic to think that life, like her ring, was perfect, but it was awfully, awfully good. To her surprise, as soon as she told her father that she was staying in town, he had turned over a large portion of his investment clients to her.

  “You’re better at that than I am anyway,” he’d said. “Though you’re not the manager I am. But you will be by the time I die.” And by the time that happened, maybe she would have given him a grandchild who had a way with numbers and loved a spreadsheet—if he or she didn’t want to make stained glass. Or knit.

  But Hope only planned to work four days a week at the bank. She intended to spend Fridays at String. The classes were going well, and she had a strategy to increase Internet sales. Miss Julia and Miss Sticky were thrilled with her generosity, but on some level, she thought they understood that she needed to spend time in the shop, to feel the life in the yarn. And to just sit and knit.

  “Look, Hope,” Heath said. “Jackson’s going to sing.”

  Jackson had written a song especially for his brother’s wedding, and it was just what you would expect from Jackson Beauford for such an occasion—filled with love and riding on a cloud.

  The couple looked just as happy as they had the night outside The Café Down On The Corner, but, somehow, Hope didn’t find it annoying anymore. Abby wore a pale blue dream of a dress that swirled around her as she moved in her husband’s arms.

  It could have been a scene out of a fairy tale—until one of Rafe’s twins ran onto the dance floor.

  “Mama!” She clutched the skirt of Abby’s dress. “Bite?” And she held up a messy, wet handful of chocolate cake.

  “Bella!” Emory Beauford ran behind the child. “Sorry. She found the groom’s cake.”

  Jackson stopped singing. “Don’t mind me,” he said into the microphone.

  Then everyone noticed the chocolate stains on Abby’s dress and went silent until Abby began to laugh. She lifted the child into her arms and took a bite of mashed chocolate cake.

  And everyone broke out into joyful laughter.

  “Where are Phillip and Alice?” Rafe called. “Beau, can you bring us the rest of our kids?”

  Rafe and Abby joined hands and made a circle with their children. “Jackson, can you start over?” Rafe called.

  And the newly merged family laughed and danced together, the picture of happily ever after.

  Hope turned to Heath and looked into his brandy-colored eyes. “We are them, aren’t we?”

  Solemnly, he shook his head and pulled her into his arms. “They wish. They just wish.”

  About the Author

  Alicia Hunter Pace is the pseudonym for the writing team Jean Hovey and Stephanie Jones. They are USA Today best-selling authors who live in North Alabama and share a love of old houses, football, and writing stories with a happily ever after.

  Find Alicia Hunter Pace at:

  Their website www.aliciahunterpace.com

  On Facebook at www.facebook.com/pages/Alicia-Hunter-Pace/176839952372867

  On Twitter @AliciaHPace

  Subscribe to their newsletter at:

  http://aliciahunterpace.us3.listmanage.com/subscribe?u=8dee88167294a57b8b340f8e7&id=2054b7cbe8

  To make your own pair of Must-Have Cable Mitts, turn the page for a free pattern excerpted from Interweave’s Family-Friendly Knits by Courtney Spainhower.

  Must-Have Mitts

  Fingerless gloves are my go-to transitional accessories. My youngest has an extensive collection in a range of colors so she can grab the pair that best suits her mood. My own vanish each spring with the melting snow, so I am usually back to the needles, making a new pair each year. Though worked in fine yarn and incorporate cabling, these mitts knit up surprisingly fast for gifts. They’re perfect for men, women, and children alike, and instructions are included for all.

  Finished Size

  About 43⁄4 (51⁄4, 6, 61⁄2)" (12 [13.5, 15, 16.5] cm) hand circumference and 41⁄4 (5, 6, 61⁄2" (11 [12.5, 15, 16.5] cm) length.

  TO FIT: Child S (Child L, Adult S, Adult L).

  Samples shown measure 43⁄4", 6", and 61⁄2" (12, 15, and 16.5 cm).

  Yarn

  Super Fine (#2 Light).

  SHOWN HERE: Madelinetosh Tosh Merino Light (100% superwash merino wool; 420 yd [384 m]/11⁄2 oz [100 g]): Adult L sample: charcoal, 1 skein; Adult S sample: Isadora, 1 skein; Child S sample: candlewick, 1 skein.

  Needles

  Size U.S. 2 (3 mm): set of 3 or 4 double-pointed (dpn).

  Adjust needle size if necessary to obtain the correct gauge.

  Notions

  Markers (m); cable needle (cn); stitch holders or waste yarn; tapestry needle.

  Gauge

  33 sts and 46 rnds = 4" (10 cm) in St st, worked in rnds.

  18 sts = 11⁄2" (3.8 cm) in Cable Rib chart.

  Note

  These mitts are worked seamlessly from the bottom up incorporating palm gusset shaping for the thumb and a cabled rib along the side.

  It is recommended to use a contrasting color stitch marker for the beg of rnd marker, to easily tell it apart from other markers used.

  Stitch Guide

  1/1RC

  Sl 1 st to cn and hold in back, k1, k1 from cn.

  2/1LC

  Sl 2 sts to cn and hold in front, k1, k2 from cn.

  2/1RC

  Sl 1 st to cn and hold in back, k2, k1 from cn.

  2/2LC

  Sl 2 sts to cn and hold in front, k2, k2 from cn.

  2/2RC

  Sl 2 sts to cn and hold in back, k2, k2 from cn.

  1×1 Rib (multiple of 2 sts)

  RND 1: *K1, p1 rep from *.

  Rep Rnd 1 for patt.

  MITT

  Cuff

  CO 40 (46, 52, 56) sts. Divide sts evenly over 3 or 4 dpn. Place marker (pm) for beg of rnd and join to work in the rnd, being careful not to twist sts.

  Work in 1x1 rib until piece meas 11⁄4 (11⁄2, 13⁄4, 13⁄4)" (3.2 [3.8, 4.5, 4.5] cm) from CO edge.

  Gusset

  SET-UP RND: K16 (20, 22, 26), pm for gusset, k3 (4, 6, 6), pm for chart, k18, pm for chart, k3 (4, 6, 6) to end.

  INC RND: Knit to gusset m, sl m, M1L , knit to chart m, sl m, work Cable Rib chart to next chart m, sl m, knit to end, M1R —2 sts inc’d.

  NEXT RND: Knit to first chart m, sl m, work Cabled Rib chart to next chart m, sl m, knit to end.

  Rep the last 2 rnds 7 (9, 10, 12) more times—56 (66, 74, 82) sts.

  Cont working even as est for 3 (4, 4, 3) more rnds.

  Hand

  Remove beg of rnd m, place next 16 (20, 22, 26) sts onto st holder or waste yarn, use the backward-loop method to CO 2, pm for beg of rnd, CO 2 more sts, remove m on left needle, and join to work in the rnd—44 (52, 56, 60) sts.

  Cont working even as est for 7 (9, 14, 18) rnds, ending after Rnd 4 (11, 7, 3) of Cable Rib chart.

  Knit 1 rnd.

  Work in 1x1 rib for 1⁄2" (2 cm).

  BO all sts in patt.

  Work second mitt the same as the first.

  THUMB

  Return 16 (20, 22, 26) held sts from 1 mitt evenly onto 2 dpn. With RS facing and using a third dpn, pick up and knit 2 sts from CO sts, pm for beg of rnd, pick up and knit 2 more sts from CO sts and join to work in the rnd—20 (24, 26, 30) sts.

  Knit 1 rnd.

  DEC RND: *K2tog, k6 (8, 9, 11), ssk; rep from * once more—16 (20, 22, 26) sts rem.

  Redistribute sts evenly over 3 dpn.

  Knit 0 (2, 4, 6) rnds.

&n
bsp; Work in 1x1 rib for 1⁄2" (2 cm).

  BO all sts in patt.

  Work thumb on second mitt the same as the first.

  FINISHING

  Using tapestry needle, weave in all ends neatly.

  Block to measurements.

  Excerpted from Interweave's Family-Friendly Knits by Courtney Spainhower © November 2015

  love, knit, wear

  Create garments and accessories your entire family will love with Family-Friendly Knits. From an awesome selection of comfy yet stylish pullovers and cardigans to a fabulously furry raglan sweater, the modern silhouettes and clever construction techniques in this new book will leave your family begging for more! Whether you’re stocking the family mitten basket, knitting yourself a Fair Isle cardigan you’ll want to hand down to future generations, or whipping up gifts for loved ones near and far, Family-Friendly Knits has you covered.

  * * *

  Available Now

  InterweaveStore.com

  9781632500038 | $22.99 | 144 pages

  More from This Author

  (From Redeeming Rafe by Alicia Hunter Pace)

  Nothing like a pair of screaming two-year-old twins to keep a man awake.

  If not for the ear-splitting racket coming from the back seat of his Super Duty F-350 Ford pickup truck, Rafe Beauford would probably have fallen asleep at the wheel two hours ago. Though it was supposed to be a ten-hour trip from Denton, Texas, to Beauford, Tennessee, he’d already been on the road for fourteen hours. He’d stopped at least fifteen times since he’d left Denton last night to try to quiet those kids, but fact was, he didn’t know how. Beauford was still an hour in front of him, and the girls had been screaming bloody murder the entire time.