“Why would it be awkward, Mom?” Ella said, surprising Hope.
“No reason,” Hope lied again. “I thought you were listening to music?”
“I can do both,” Ella chirped. “So . . . awkward, why?”
Sparkle quietly cleared her throat and Hope knew she was being nudged. Fine!
“Donovan and I were neighbors growing up. We dated for a brief time in high school.” Then Hope added. “Ancient history.”
“The Stone Age.” Ella snickered.
The closer they got to the lodge, Sparkle seemed to squirm more. “Are you okay?”
Sparkle sighed. “I just can’t believe Rick wants to spend time with me.”
“I can believe it. You’re a smart, beautiful woman, Sparkle, so I’m not surprised at all. The more important question is: Do you like him?”
“He’s very . . . charming,” she said.
“Well, this should give you an opportunity to assess him, not the other way around. Do you hear?”
“I guess so,” Sparkle said.
“I know so,” Hope said.
A few minutes later, they pulled up to the lodge and parked. All three guys came out on the porch to meet them—Donovan, Rick, and Boomer, who, of course, was in Donovan’s arms.
Hope opened her door, but Ella scrambled from the car first.
She rushed up the porch steps, straight to Donovan. “What a cute dog!” It was like she was ten again. But teenagers could easily revert. Especially if it was her daughter and a dog was involved. “What’s his name? Can I play with him?”
“Boomer.” Donovan set him in Ella’s arms.
Hope realized Sparkle hadn’t budged. She looked too paralyzed to leave the car. Hope reached over and squeezed her hand. “We’re just going to have a little dinner and watch a movie. If you decide you don’t like Rick, then we’ll leave. No harm done.” But Hope couldn’t imagine any scenario where Sparkle wouldn’t like Rick. Hope had a good feeling about him, and her intuition was saying that Rick was one of the good guys. Rick had Donovan’s stamp of approval, which spoke volumes.
Though Hope was a jumble of nerves, she felt like she had to be the strong one here and went around to the other side of the car and opened Sparkle’s door for her. Sparkle took the hint and exited.
Hope slapped a neutral pleasant expression on her face. “I see my daughter Ella has commandeered your dog.” Hope walked up to the porch, modeling for Sparkle how it was done.
Ella had Boomer in the driveway, playing a game of chase with him.
“I’m glad they’re getting along,” Donovan said. “Maybe she’ll wear him out and he’ll quit gnawing on my moccasins.”
“Stop whining,” Rick said. “I’ll pick you up a new pair when I head back to Anchorage.”
Hope got closer and noticed a good portion of one moccasin had been chewed away.
“Come on in.” Rick held the door wide, smiling at Sparkle.
Sparkle glanced over at Hope.
Hope gave her an it’s-all-good look, then waved at Ella. “Are you coming?”
Ella scooped up Boomer and ran for the porch.
As Hope neared the door, she became aware of a wonderful smell from inside the lodge. “You put the roast in?” She was speaking to Rick as she stepped inside, but it was Donovan who answered.
“We got the Internet,” Donovan said. “I YouTubed it.”
“Don’t let him fool you, Hope,” Rick said, shutting the door behind Ella and Boomer. “Donovan is a great cook. If it weren’t for him, I’d be emaciated. I’m not sure what I’m going to do when he moves to Florida.”
“I told him to move to Florida, too,” Donovan said. “My business manager needs to be close to the business, right?”
“What’s in Florida?” Ella asked, as she slipped off her snow boots and set them on the mat.
“My dad lives in Florida,” Donovan said. “He’d be here with me now, but he’s recovering from back surgery.”
“Is he going to be all right?” Hope asked. She’d always liked Mr. Stone. And he was Ella’s grandfather, something Hope had never considered before.
“He’ll be fine. He’s starting physical therapy next week. All this is bad timing.”
Hope knew what he meant. With Charles Stone’s passing this past month, she wondered if Donovan’s dad had to miss the funeral. But she wouldn’t ask.
“Where’d you get Boomer?” Ella inquired.
“Mr. Brewster. Do you know him?” Donovan said.
“Yeah. I help out sometimes at the kennel, especially in the summer.”
Just like Donovan did.
Ella looked lovingly down at Boomer. “Is this the runt Mr. Brewster told me about?”
“The one and only,” Donovan said.
Ella gave Boomer a little squeeze and then kissed his head. “I always wanted a Berner.”
“Really?” Donovan glanced over at Hope. “Maybe your mom can get you one. Or your dad?”
Ella shook her head. “My dad’s dead.” She said it matter-of-factly, as if stating Boomer was a dog.
Izzie had had that kind of candor and it was surprisingly comforting to see it in her daughter.
Donovan, though, looked as if Ella’s words had thrown him off guard. After a moment, he seemed to recover . . . sort of. “I’m sorry to hear about your father.”
“No worries,” Ella said. “He died before I was born.” She glanced at Hope, but then she frowned. “Mom, why do you look so weird?”
“Nothing,” Hope answered quickly and wrongly. “I mean, I don’t look weird.”
“Yeah, you do. You were weird at home, getting ready. And now you’re starting to freak me out.”
Hope shoved her hair behind her ears, something she did when she was nervous. Thank goodness, Rick came to the rescue. “Everyone, go stand by the fire and get warm.” He helped Sparkle off with her coat.
The visit was just getting started and Hope already wanted to head home. She realized then that “The Little Drummer Boy” was playing quietly in the background. She pointed to the air, as if she could touch the music. “Which one of you is in the Christmas spirit?”
“Guilty,” Rick said. “I’m a sucker for the holidays. Since the stores in Anchorage were already gearing up for Santa, I took advantage and bought a bunch of decorations, too.”
“Yeah, you can no longer park a vehicle in the garage. Packed,” Donovan added, shaking his head. “Thanksgiving isn’t even here yet.”
Hope scanned the interior of the lodge. It looked totally different now than when she’d shown up with the grocery delivery, when the only illumination came from lanterns. Now, the overhead lights were lit, along with every lamp. This was how Hope remembered it, except there was no laughter resonating from the Sisterhood of the Quilt. Also, two large beanbag chairs were parked in front of the television set, the same TV that had been there seventeen years ago.
Hope raised her eyebrows at Donovan. “I’m surprised that, being a man and all, you didn’t upgrade to an eighty-five-inch flat screen while you were in Anchorage.”
“It’s on back order.” Donovan stared at her for a long moment.
Thank goodness Rick jumped in, because Hope couldn’t help but stare back.
“We went to the furniture store to buy new couches and chairs, but my man here”—Rick jabbed a thumb at Donovan—“couldn’t make up his mind. I don’t understand it. He had no trouble decorating his apartment in San Jose.”
Ella plopped down in one of the beanbags. “I like them.”
Donovan shrugged. “The industrial look in San Jose won’t work for the wilds of Alaska.”
“Need I remind you that you are from Alaska?” Rick turned to her. “Hope, you have to help him. This place needs a woman’s touch if he’s going to turn a profit come sell day.”
“Wh
at about Courtney?” Hope shouldn’t have blurted that out. But now that she had, she waited, feeling morbidly curious to see how Donovan felt about the always-perfect-nearly-Miss-Alaska. It wasn’t like she wanted Courtney to overhaul Home Sweet Home Lodge. Just the opposite. Hope just wanted to know if Donovan would fall for Courtney’s womanly wiles like he’d done before. Before he and Hope got together.
Donovan’s brows furrowed. “Courtney isn’t exactly the Alaskan lodge type. Her tastes run closer to the big city than to Sweet Home.”
Hope tried to keep her face from contorting, but her thoughts and emotions were definitely taking sides. He might as well have come out and said that Courtney would get along great in the big city . . . with him.
Ella grabbed a piece of cheese from the tray on the coffee table. “Why don’t you just keep the place?”
“I can’t,” Donovan said, at the same time Hope said, “He can’t.”
She was so embarrassed. Even Sparkle looked embarrassed for her.
Hope walked toward the kitchen. “What else needs to be done? Can I cut up some veggies?” She tried to sound perky, but it was hard to sound upbeat when everyone knew she was pathetic.
Unfortunately, Donovan followed her into the kitchen. “You have a great kid. She seems to love Boomer.”
“She loves animals,” Hope said. Just like you always did.
Hope had a solution to keep them from being alone. “Ella, get in here and help.”
“She just ran outside, saying her friend was here.” Donovan pulled romaine from the refrigerator and a colander from under the sink. “The knives are in that drawer.”
She wanted to snap at him, I know where the knives are. Back in the day, she’d spent almost as much time at the lodge as he had.
“Mom, Lacy’s here,” Ella called from the living room. A second later, she and Lacy were in the kitchen with them.
“Wow.” Lacy stared at Donovan as if he were Chris Hemsworth. Then she spoke to him. “My mom’s Aberdeen North. She said to tell you hi. She says that you, her, and Ella’s mom went to high school together.”
“Aberdeen,” Donovan said wistfully, or at least that was how it sounded to Hope. “Yes, I remember her. You do, too, don’t you, Hope? Aberdeen was a senior when we were freshmen.”
“Yes, I know Aberdeen well.” She didn’t point out sarcastically that she still lived here, and that Ella and Lacy were best friends, which brought Aberdeen and her together regularly. “Aberdeen comes into the Hungry Bear every Saturday.”
Lacy turned to Ella and grabbed her arm, but then glanced back at Donovan. “Your real dad is such a hottie! Why didn’t you tell me he’s still alive?”
* * *
• • •
“WHAT?” ELLA WENT cold, as if Lacy had pushed her into Icy Lake.
“My mom said that he”—she pointed at Donovan’s chest—“is your real dad. That your mom had a thing with him in high school.”
“You’re lying, Lacy! My dad died before I was born. Mom said so.”
“I’m not lying,” Lacy cried. “Just repeating what my mom said.”
Shaking, and knowing she was about to cry, too, Ella turned to her mom. “Is it true?” Her voice cracked.
Mom had gone sheet-white, as if all her blood had drained away. Fear gripped Ella. Her granddad had looked like that in his casket. Was her mom going to die, too?
Mom reached out a hand, but Ella backed away, wiping at the tears she couldn’t stop.
“This isn’t how I planned to tell you,” her mom said.
Donovan dropped the colander and it clanked across the floor. “It’s true?”
Well, at least Ella wasn’t the only one who’d been left in the dark. But it didn’t make her feel any better.
Her mom nodded at the guy who was supposed to be her dad.
“You lied to me,” Ella heard herself screaming, though she felt outside of herself. Tears completely blurred her vision. She was pretty sure she was going to hurl. She tried to run from the room, but her mom grabbed her shoulders.
“Let me explain,” her mom said.
But Ella didn’t want to hear it. She jerked away and ran from the lodge.
“Wait up!” Lacy was running after her.
“No!” Ella didn’t want to be friends with Lacy anymore. She’d done this because Ella had given her notes from history to Tad—Lacy’s boyfriend. And she was just being nice! It wasn’t like she liked him or anything. “You did this on purpose!”
“I didn’t,” Lacy pleaded. “I thought you knew. Why else would you be coming out to the lodge?”
That was a good question. But no way was Ella going back in there and ask her mom why. Why had she brought them here?
“Don’t be mad!” Lacy was blubbering like she’d just been betrayed and not Ella. “You’re my best friend.”
Ella stopped running. She needed a Kleenex. Snot was all over the place.
Lacy caught up to her and took her arm. “Let’s get out of here. We’ll go to my house. My mom’s on a date.” She tugged Ella toward her car.
And Ella let her. What else could she do?
Mom was a big fat liar.
Grandpa was dead.
And even though Ella had apparently gained a father tonight . . . she had never felt more alone in her life.
* * *
• • •
DONOVAN BACKED INTO a chair and sat. Hope looked as pale as a ghost, nearly as upset and looking as awful as she had the night Izzie and Beau died.
Rick hurried into the kitchen. “What’s going on? What’s wrong with Ella?”
Donovan hung his head, feeling too shocked, too stunned. I have a daughter? “You tell him, Hope. In fact, tell us both how this happened.” He looked up at her, just in time to see her anger rise to the surface.
“You were there, Donovan Stone!” She put her hands on her hips. “Or do I need to remind you of ‘going all the way’ with me?”
“How could you have told Ella I was dead?” Donovan just couldn’t wrap his head around it. Any of it!
“What is going on?” Rick repeated.
Hope seemed to give up her holier-than-thou act and pushed past Donovan. “I don’t have time for this. I have to find my daughter.”
Donovan grabbed her arm. “Give her a minute to process.” He certainly needed one. Maybe seventeen years’ worth.
Hope glared at him. “You’ve been a father all of ten seconds and you’re telling me how to raise my daughter?”
“Father?” Rick said. “What is she talking about, Don?”
Sparkle came into the kitchen and led Rick away. “Let me explain about Hope and Donovan.”
Donovan felt defeated. “I wasn’t trying to tell you how to raise Ella. I could just tell she needed some time to take this all in.”
“She doesn’t have time.” Hope broke free. “You don’t understand. I have to stop her.” Then Hope was gone.
Donovan dropped into a kitchen chair and let his head fall into his hands. “Man. This is so messed up.” He still couldn’t comprehend why she hadn’t told him he had a daughter.
But apparently he did have one.
He just didn’t want to admit that maybe some of this was his fault.
* * *
• • •
HOPE PARKED HER car in front of the Hungry Bear and got out. She looked up and down the dark empty street, but there was no sign of life. Where are you, Ella? She wasn’t answering her phone and Hope hadn’t been able to find her at the usual spots. She’d knocked for fifteen minutes on Aberdeen’s door, thinking the girls might’ve parked elsewhere and were drinking inside. But no such luck. No one answered.
Hope didn’t know what to do. She texted Piney. Can I come up?
Piney pulled back the curtain from the front window and motioned her to come on in.
Hope unlocked the door to the store, careful not to set off the noise-activated alarm as she quietly let herself in and made her way upstairs.
Piney was waiting in the doorway of her apartment. She put an arm around Hope’s shoulders. “Get in here, buttercup. Sparkle called and told me everything. The herbal tea is steeping.”
“Have you heard from Ella?” Hope asked anxiously.
Piney shook her head. “Not a word. Go sit down. You look as wound up as my yarn.”
“I can’t stay. I have to get home.” But being with Piney felt like home. If only she could stay forever. “Ella is never going to forgive me!”
Piney took both of her hands and squeezed. “That’s not true. Ella’s going to be fine. I’ve seen it.”
“I better go.” Hope didn’t have time for Piney’s crystal-ball talk now. “I just wanted to make sure Ella wasn’t here.” And she’d thought seeing Piney would make her feel less frightened, but it wasn’t working. “I’ll see you at the store tomorrow.”
“Get some rest,” Piney said, as Hope left. But sleep would be elusive tonight until Ella was home, safe in her bed.
Back in her car, Hope tried to put the key in the ignition, but her hand was shaking too much. “Pull it together, Hope,” she said aloud. Ella was probably hurt somewhere, and she had to find her. Hope had to search each byroad—paved or gravel. She wouldn’t give up!
A sudden crash of music from her phone startled her. It was Lacy’s number! With fumbling fingers, Hope finally answered the call. “Ella?”
“No. It’s Aberdeen.”
Dread spread through Hope’s body. Ella has been in an accident. “Is Ella all right?” But Hope’s nervous system was preparing her, telling her that Ella was dead.
“Yes, of course Ella’s all right. Sort of,” Aberdeen said. “Lacy told me what happened out at the lodge. I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.”
“What do you mean sort of?” Hope asked. “What’s wrong with Ella? Did they get in a car accident?”
“No accident. I just got home from a date and found both girls in Lacy’s room with a bottle of rum, drunk. I’m sorry about that, too. I need to put a lock on my pantry.”
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