Thank you, God, for keeping them off the roads.
“I’m so glad they’re safe,” Hope said, feeling genuinely grateful.
“About everything that happened at the lodge, I never meant to cause you and Donovan trouble,” Aberdeen continued. “I shouldn’t have been gossiping on the phone with Lacy in the room.”
You shouldn’t have been gossiping at all! Hope kept her mouth shut, but it did bring up an important point. “How did you know Donovan was Ella’s father? I never told a soul.”
“Oh, Hope,” Aberdeen started. “We all guessed. But if anyone dared mention it Piney shut us down.”
“How?” Hope would like to have that kind of power.
“She warned all of Sweet Home that if we didn’t keep our noses out of it, she was going to close the Hungry Bear . . . for good. We believed her.” Aberdeen paused. “And since the town had just lost the hardware store, everyone did as she said. I remember my own mom getting onto one of her friends when she started to speculate about who had knocked you up. My mama’s words, not mine.”
“Apparently you forgot Piney’s warning tonight,” Hope said bitterly.
“I feel terrible about it,” Aberdeen whimpered. “Please, Hope, know how sorry I am.”
Hope couldn’t say, Oh, sure, it’s okay. No harm done. Because harm had been done. Irrevocably.
The good feeling of knowing that Ella was okay had faded, and anger had taken its place. Tonight was supposed to be a drama-free night!
“Can I speak to Ella?”
“If it’s okay, Ella wants to sleep over,” Aberdeen said instead. “Is it?”
No! It’s not okay for Ella to sleep over! But Hope didn’t want to make things worse. She’d always chosen her battles with Ella. Apparently, Hope had lost this one. “Let her know that I’ll pick her up at ten in the morning.”
“Okay.” Aberdeen sounded hesitant.
Hope knew it would be early for the girls, but it was the best time for Hope, as she could slip away from the Hungry Bear for a midmorning break. Getting Ella alone in the car and taking a drive out to the cemetery would give Hope a chance to say what needed to be said. Explain all of it. Okay, not necessarily all of it, but enough for Ella to get the idea. She didn’t want to demonize Donovan, who had been grieving back then, but she also didn’t want to be the villain of the story. The truth was always hard to pin down. Between now and then, Hope prayed she’d find the right words that would help Ella feel better.
Hope should go home and get some sleep. Or work on Izzie’s Memory Tree quilt. Instead her mind was filled with Donovan Stone. No time like the present. She put the car in gear and headed back to the lodge.
* * *
• • •
PINEY WATCHED HOPE drive away, knowing she had to do more. Bill would tell her that she should mind her own business and stay out of Hope’s. But Hope was family. Ella, too. And it was time to make sure that Donovan was brought into the fold.
Absence did not, alas, necessarily make the heart grow fonder, but proximity did.
Unfortunately, Hope was going to get mighty uncomfortable while Piney fixed what the universe had messed up when little Izzie and Beau died. She should’ve hunted Donovan down after he left and told him Hope was pregnant. But she’d been there at Elsie’s funeral when he’d told Hope that he wanted nothing to do with her ever again. And Hope had been so upset that it seemed wrong to interfere. But for Donovan’s and Hope’s sakes now, Piney would take off the kid gloves and dish out a dollop of tough love.
It wouldn’t be easy.
But it would be worth it to have those two back together. She just prayed that Hope could forgive her for the lie she was about to tell.
Chapter 8
SLOWLY, HOPE DROVE along the curvy road leading out of town. The weather didn’t have anything to do with her keeping her speed down; no, her snail’s pace had everything to do with going back to the lodge, when she felt certain that Donovan must hate her. But if she couldn’t talk to Ella tonight, then she would speak with Donovan. Explain. Answer his questions. Maybe even beg his forgiveness.
But the memory of standing near Elsie Stone’s grave, Donovan telling her he never wanted to see her ever again, felt fresh. As new as the snow that was starting to fall.
Now that Hope knew Ella was okay, she felt bad for abandoning Sparkle. But hadn’t Rick said he’d get Sparkle home? Hadn’t Sparkle told her to go, giving her the nod of approval before Hope ran out? Her memory was clouded . . .
She had even more trouble thinking about what she was going to say to Donovan. Regret covered Hope and she swiped at a tear. If she’d told Donovan about Ella sooner, maybe Ella could’ve had a father all these years. But the truth was, Hope felt certain Donovan wouldn’t have welcomed the news that she was pregnant. And who knew whether Donovan even wanted to be a parent now?
Should she ask him?
Once she got to the lodge, it took everything in her to leave the car and go to the door. It was even harder to knock.
When she finally did, Rick answered with Boomer in his arms. He pulled her in for a quick hug, as if he’d known her forever. “Are you all right? Sparkle and I were worried sick about you.”
Hope wished her eyes weren’t red. She had to keep reminding herself: Ella is okay!
“Is Donovan here?”
“The back porch,” Rick said.
Probably cooling off. “Thanks.”
Hope gave Sparkle a small wave as she walked through the dining room. Sparkle’s eyes were filled with pity. That look was something Hope had become accustomed to from the folks of Sweet Home, but never from Sparkle. Stepping out on the back porch, Hope felt like she was about to face a firing squad.
Donovan was standing with his back to her, looking at the nearly frozen river.
“How’s Ella?” He didn’t turn around. “Is she okay?”
Well, she’s drunk. But Hope didn’t say that. “She’s spending the night at Lacy’s. Aberdeen called and told me.” Hope paused. “Can we talk?”
Donovan shook his head, still not looking at her. “I’m not sure I want to speak to you right now.”
Hope didn’t blame him for being furious.
“Don’t you have questions?” Hope said.
Silence. Hope waited. Just as she was about to leave the porch—and his life forever—Donovan turned around.
“Let’s go inside to Grandpa’s office and give Rick and Sparkle some alone time. I think we’ve aired enough dirty laundry in front of others for one night.”
“You’re not calling my daughter dirty laundry, are you?”
He ran a hand through his hair, looking defeated. Frustrated. Angry. “Of course not, Hope. I’m just a private person these days.”
“Then you’ve been away too long. Have you forgotten that no one gets true privacy here in Sweet Home?” She noticed that Donovan hadn’t corrected her by saying, She’s my daughter, too.
This wasn’t going well.
Why had she come back?
Apparently, she was into punishment.
She followed him inside, then through the kitchen. It was as if Donovan was keeping her out of Rick and Sparkle’s line of sight, sneaking her to Charles Stone’s office because he was embarrassed by her.
The office looked like a time capsule, exactly how Charles had left it, neat, tidy, with everything in its place, the opposite of Elsie Stone, who liked everything out so she could see it—papers, fabric, patterns. Hope still missed her. All of Sweet Home did.
Donovan shut the door behind Hope. His features were hard, taut. “Why did you come back to the lodge tonight?”
“I told you, to answer your questions. I know you have to have some,” she said honestly. Why else would she put herself through this?
“Okay.” Donovan nodded, watching her closely as if she might try to steal somet
hing. “I’ll ask the big question first.”
Hope braced herself. “Fire away.”
“How could you keep this from me?” His voice cracked. “Keep Ella from me?”
Hope sighed heavily. “I assure you, it wasn’t deliberate. When I realized I was pregnant, it took a while for it all to sink in.” Izzie was gone. Beau was gone. You were gone.
“But after it sank in?”
“I was in shock over losing Izzie and Beau. My heart was broken and I felt lost. You had been clear that we were through. You told me never to contact you again.” Don’t call. Don’t write. Don’t ever do anything for me again. You’ve done enough. She’d been one hundred percent certain he didn’t want to be saddled with her baby. She could still see the hate in his eyes at Beau’s funeral when he looked in her direction.
“Oh, come on, Hope! That’s bull! You can’t honestly think that I wouldn’t want to know that we were going to have a child?”
She hung her head. “I was a mess . . . for a long time. Not thinking clearly, as I am now.” She was too embarrassed to tell him that she’d barely been functioning back then and didn’t know how to begin to explain that dark time to him now. And then the shame that followed. He’d gotten away from Sweet Home and made something of himself. She turned into a subpar version of the girl he’d known. She couldn’t tell him that her own mother had shunned her. How her parents divorced. How Piney had taken her in and nursed her somewhat back to life. Or at least woke her up and forced her to smell the coffee. That her former life was no more. No more Izzie, no more Beau. No more parents. No more stability. No more future. No more you! All of her energy had gone into surviving. Not trying to fix the past. She gave up hope of rising above like he had done.
He slammed his hand on the desk. “Why didn’t anyone from Sweet Home reach out to me?” He clutched a stone paperweight and she was certain he was going to hurl it against the far wall. “I would’ve wanted to know!”
Hope was startled by his transformation. And only now was she starting to comprehend what she’d done to him. The time she’d stolen away from him to get to know his daughter. And the damage she’d done to Ella by not telling the truth. She wasn’t going to make excuses anymore. Wasn’t going to point out that she’d only been a scared kid. It didn’t matter that she’d been sure then that he would’ve hated her for being pregnant. That was nothing compared to the hurt in his eyes now.
What in the world could she say to him? Okay, she would just give the facts and try to keep her crushed emotions out of it. Finally, she spoke. “I just found out tonight, from Aberdeen, why no one hunted you down and told you. It seems, back then, that Piney threatened to shut down the Hungry Bear if anyone gossiped about me being pregnant. No one was allowed to speculate about who the father was.” Hope watched him. “I wasn’t talking. I never told anyone that you were the father. Not even Piney or Sparkle.”
“Fine, you didn’t want me to know Ella. But why did you come up with this fictional father?” he ground out.
“Mom sent me away to Aunt Betsy in the Yukon.” The evenness of her tone didn’t betray the pain of the blow, when Mom had said Hope was to go with Aunt Betsy after Izzie’s funeral and not come back. Hope had begged not to be sent away. Dad had begged, too. At least he’d convinced Mom that Hope could return after several weeks—not back home, but to Sweet Home. “I got back to Sweet Home just a day before your grandmother died.” Hope hadn’t even gotten to tell Elsie how sorry she was for what she’d done to Beau. “I’m not sure if you want the details . . .”
“I do.”
“Well, when you came back for Elsie’s funeral I had just missed my period and knew nothing for sure. I did think about telling you, but we weren’t friends anymore, and besides, I was in denial. I was sure I’d missed my period because of the stress. I had heard somewhere that could happen.”
“You could’ve taken a pregnancy test to find out for certain,” Donovan accused.
“Yeah. Sure. Like I could’ve walked into the Hungry Bear to get one without half the town hearing about it. Or even worse, I could’ve gone to the clinic.” She looked in the direction of town and could see in her mind’s eye the clinic with its now boarded-up windows. “I know what I did to you and Ella is reprehensible, keeping you two apart. I’m sorry. It’s all my fault.”
Donovan just stared at her, as if he agreed one hundred percent. Couldn’t he see that her heart was breaking all over again, just being around him?
“Can I ask a question?” she said. Just this one thing. “Do you want to be a father to Ella?” Or is it too late? He didn’t answer immediately and something snapped inside Hope. “Do you already have children? Forget it. Sorry I asked! None of my business. You’re leaving soon!”
Anger flashed in Donovan’s eyes and she knew she never should’ve come back here tonight.
“Hell, no!” he said.
Hope didn’t know which of her questions he was referring to. She opened her mouth to ask, but Donovan was halfway through the door.
Come back, she wanted to cry out. But he was gone.
She’d gotten what she deserved. She’d left Donovan hanging for so many years and now it was his turn to do the same to her.
She sat there for at least five minutes, trying to be patient, telling herself—no, fooling herself—that he’d come back. That he’d be sorry for leaving her—now and then. But he didn’t. Finally, Hope rose and snuck out through the door in the garage, unable to face any of them.
She drove back to town, wanting desperately to get Ella and take her home with her. She didn’t want to be alone tonight. But Ella wouldn’t want to be with her either. Ella would probably want to live at Lacy’s trailer forever.
Hope parked her car and saw that next door, Bill’s light was still on. For no reason, she started walking to his cottage. But she hadn’t made two footfalls when the lights went out. Feeling paranoid, she wondered if the news had spread of how she’d treated Ella and Donovan, keeping them away from each other.
She turned around to head back to her place, except a moose had wandered near her minuscule porch, nibbling the branches she should’ve trimmed in early fall.
“Come on!” she said to the moose. “Give me a break!”
But he just stood there, taunting her, glancing over at her every now and then, as if to say, I’ve never given you a break before. Why should I start now?
It felt as if everything was coming to one defining point. Donovan back in town, Ella finding out that he was her father, and now the moose. Just as she was ready to sit down in the snow and cry, the moose wandered back into the woods behind her house.
She scrambled for her door, slung it open, then shut herself inside.
She was too tired to wash up the few dishes in the sink, though to her credit at least she thought about it. Instead, she went into her room and dressed for bed. She was miserable. This evening couldn’t have gone worse.
She stopped in the middle of pulling on her nighttime kuspuk. Yes, tonight could’ve gone worse. She eased the nightshirt the rest of the way.
She didn’t do it often, but now she got to her knees, leaned her elbows on her bed, and then properly thanked God for watching over Ella tonight, keeping her safe. Now, if only the Big Guy Upstairs would make her daughter see the light and forgive Hope for what she’d done. And make Donovan forgive her, too. While she was at it, she asked if He could help Ella stop drinking this very instant to keep from killing off more brain cells than she’d already done. But those were only pipe dreams. Tonight, she’d settle for Ella being okay.
Hope shut off the light and climbed into bed. But sleep wouldn’t come. Her brain buzzed with anxiety.
Losing Izzie had set a certain standard for Hope’s life. Hope was constantly telling herself that her troubles were nothing compared to Izzie dying. It could always be worse had become her mantra.
“H
ope,” Izzie said, making Hope jump. Apparently, she had fallen asleep, because Izzie was sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed, looking like a yogi, or the young child that she’d been. “I know you’re thinking about me and I don’t like that you use me that way.”
“What way?” Hope asked, feeling too tired to fess up and too tired to hash out the evening with her little sister.
“You’re being morbid,” Izzie chastised. “Maybe, instead of saying that things could always be worse, you should start a gratitude journal.”
“What do you know about gratitude journals?”
“I know things,” Izzie said. “I know you have a mess to clean up from tonight.”
“The dishes?”
“Don’t be funny.”
“I’m not. I just don’t want to talk about it.”
“But you have no choice. I’m here, so we’re going to talk.”
“It’s simple, really. I’ve lied to my daughter since the day she was born. And I never told Donovan that he has a daughter. I think that covers it.”
Izzie hung her head back and looked up at the ceiling. Either she was frustrated with Hope or she was conferring with someone up there.
Her silence propelled Hope to continue. “As you said, I messed up tonight.”
“That’s not what I said. I said you have a mess to clean up. I think it was a good start being grateful that Ella was safe.”
“That was private,” Hope complained irrationally, especially since this was just a dream.
“It’s going to take some time, but I’m certain things are going to work out.”
“How can you be sure?” Hope asked.
Izzie gave her a look that said she had to have the patience of Job when it came to dealing with her older sister. She sighed heavily. “I told you, Hope; I know things.”
Chapter 9
FOR EIGHT DAYS straight, Hope woke up feeling hungover. It always took a minute to remember why her heart was heavy and why her emotions were spent. Ella was giving her the silent treatment—the teenage version of a toddler holding her breath. But at least she was home. Hope would just have to wait it out.
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