Her Family Wish

Hannah held one finger to her lips, before waving to the young couple on the wooden rink a few yards away. “Lucy’s on the local Derby team. And Mark is— Well, Mark’s…”

“In love?” Sophia supplied, as Mark wobbled helplessly on his skates. He would have fallen, if Lucy hadn’t grabbed his arms. The couple laughed, the happy sound bubbling over the low brick wall separating them from Hannah.

“Apparently.” Hannah shook her head, wondering what it would be like to be so committed to someone, you’d willingly embrace all their quirks—when it was obvious your interests vastly differed.

Mark attempted a slow circle on the floor with Lucy’s help, their elbows linked and heads bent close together. Hannah nibbled on her lower lip. What did God have in store for this couple? Would they still be smiling a year after their wedding? Would they immediately have children?

Must be nice to have the option.

She shook off the familiar pattern of bitterness before it could grow too dark, and turned her attention back to her friend. “Anyway, thanks for coming to help. It shouldn’t be too crazy though, since Lucy was able to reserve the rink for us to do this privately.” The skating rink might be a little unconventional, but most of the time, unconventional made for the best pictures. This would be fun—if she kept her focus on the job at hand and quit coveting a younger couple’s life.

Sophia pulled off her boots and slid her feet into a pair of skates that looked as if they hadn’t seen the light of day in a decade. “It’s no problem. I sort of owe you after all you’ve done for my class. Our first photography session with CREATE is tomorrow, don’t forget.” She bent and began tying the laces. “Man, I haven’t skated in forever.”

“Obviously.” Hannah gestured to her scuffed skates. “I’m surprised those still fit.”

“They were new—in college.” Sophia smirked as she yanked the laces into a knot. “What, you’re not going to take pictures while rolling around with us?”

“I sort of value my camera equipment too much to risk that.” Not to mention Hannah had zero balance on skates as a child, and she figured that fact hadn’t changed with lack of practice over the past fifteen years.

Sophia stood smoothly on her skates, just as Lucy let go of Mark on the rink. He immediately fell hard on one knee. Sophia winced. “Ouch. I hope you can edit out bruises.”

“Trust me, my editing program at home does wonders.” Hannah slipped the proper lens onto her camera. “I can fix frizzy hair, sweat—whatever the client wants.”

“Sort of like how the magazine people do for their models, I guess.” Sophia blew a strand of her hair out of her eye as she began inching toward the wooden floor. “Speaking of models, guess what I heard through the teachers’ lounge gossip mill?”

Hannah pulled a bouquet of fresh wildflowers from her prop bag and followed Sophia onto the floor toward the couple. “It’s really none of my business.” She hated gossip, especially after seeing people talking about her, gesturing to their own faces and whispering, wondering what had happened behind raised hands instead of asking her outright. No, gossip was not her thing.

“Are you sure?” Sophia’s voice was singsongy, as if her old skates were somehow bringing back her more immature college days. “It’s about Jude.”

Hannah paused, wishing that fact didn’t change her opinion about gossip in general. Then she shook it off. “You guys ready?” She motioned for Lucy and Mark to come to their side of the rink, then drew a deep breath, lowering her voice. “Sophia, it’s still none of my business.”

Unfortunately. She had to admit, though, she was a little curious how in the world Sophia went from saying “speaking of models” to this revelation. Surely Jude didn’t model on the side.

Though with his charm and those business suits…well, she’d certainly buy the catalog.

Sophia watched as Lucy turned back to help Mark wobble their way. “How is it not your business? You’re going out with him for coffee tonight.”

“Only to talk about Abby. It’s not a date.” But earlier she’d debated for a solid hour on what to wear, as if it were. Maybe it wasn’t supposed to be a date, but it could turn that direction. Maybe Jude was using his daughter as a cover-up for wanting to get to know Hannah better. It could happen. Anything could happen.

“It’s not really gossip, anyway, more like a new piece of that handsome puzzle.” Sophia took the flowers from Hannah and gave them a sniff. “Turns out, his ex-wife used to be a model.”

Any lingering hopes of Jude noticing Hannah over a white chocolate mocha crashed and burned in the bubbling pool that was now her stomach. As if on their own accord, Hannah’s fingers reached up and touched her scar, her spirits plummeting. Anything could happen? Right. And maybe Mark would be ready to compete in a professional Derby bout tomorrow.

“A model, huh? Like, for Sears?” Hannah’s voice cracked, and she cleared her throat.

Sophia fixed her with a look. “I think a little more exotic than that.”

No wonder Abby was so gorgeous. Hannah’s former thoughts rose up in a chorus of too-familiar tormenters, and laughed in her face. How could she have ever even briefly entertained the idea that a man like Jude, used to physical perfection, could be interested in someone like her?

That’s not fair, Hannah. You barely even know him. Her conscience blared a warning that she was crossing an emotional threshold she had no business crossing. But her runaway thoughts wouldn’t obey and corral. She might not know Jude well, but she knew his temper—she’d had a front-row seat to that show, twice now. And she knew he must pride himself on image, always looking so professional and keeping such a close eye on Abby’s wardrobe.

Hannah’s hands tightened around her camera. And she knew how much he loved his daughter.

It’s just a scar. You’re not a mutant. People have seen worse. Hannah ran through the mental checklist of notes she tried to tell herself in the mirror every day after the accident, but failed now as she did then. Maybe it was just a scar—but when compared to a model, she might as well be significantly deformed.

But why was she comparing anyway? Before Jude’s coffee request, he’d given her no reason to ever think he was more than her unofficial boss. She needed to tone down the wishes welling up in her chest. Reality was reality. Her fiancé hadn’t wanted her after the accident. Why would someone like Jude? Especially after he knew the rest of her story.

“Are you okay?” Sophia tapped Hannah’s arm, yanking her away from the dark place that threatened to consume her. “Lucy said they were ready. Twice.”

Hannah inhaled sharply. “Of course. Let’s go.” She forced a smile for her clients’ sakes, and called instructions to Sophia. “Bring those flowers to this wall over here, will you?” She arranged Lucy and Mark in a smiling embrace at the end of the rink, forcing herself to work through the cloudy haze still fogging her mind.

“I don’t have to actually skate, do I?” Mark’s tone was light but his eyes wary. He held Lucy so tightly, Hannah wondered if she’d have to edit white knuckles from the photos.

“No, sweetie. You stand there and look nice.” Lucy reached up and playfully patted his cheek, humor lighting her eyes along with more than a little pity.

Pity. A second fist pummeled Hannah’s midsection and she nearly lost her grip on her camera. What if Jude felt sorry for her, and that’s why he wanted to talk about Abby over coffee? Make it at least feel a little like a date, because he figured that was as good as it would get for her? The only thing she hated more than feeling second-class was being pitied. She’d had enough of that in the weeks after her accident to last a lifetime. Being babied brought out the immature nature in her, made her deserve it. She refused to go back to that period in time.

“I don’t want to look stupid in the pictures.” Worry seeped through the nonchalant charade Mark had worn the past hour, wrinkling his bushy eyebrows.

Hannah leveled a smile at him before taking a quick practice shot to check the lighting. Click. “Don’t worry, guys. I’ll make you both look like Derby pros.” She offered a wink, hoping to lighten her own mood as well as Mark’s. Click. Her voice muffled as she took another shot. “Trust me—I’m great at masking the truth.”

Chapter Six

Hannah breezed inside the local coffee shop, silky dark hair blowing across her lightly pinked cheeks. Jude rose from his chair in the back corner and lifted one hand to catch her attention, his heart picking up its pace a little at her appearance.

She reached up to corral her hair as the door shut behind her, sealing out the wind. He waved again and Hannah finally saw him and smiled, but the expression didn’t seem to quite match her eyes. She motioned toward the counter and held up one finger, as if indicating she’d be over as soon as she ordered.

Jude had intended to buy the coffee for her, but she refused to look back in his direction. Rather than cause a scene by rushing to the counter, he sank slowly back into his chair, content to study Hannah from afar. Tension bunched her shoulders under the red sweater she wore with jeans. Casual—probably came from that photo shoot she’d mentioned yesterday. He stole a quick look down at his pressed dress shirt and slacks, a uniform he wore so often at school he rarely considered changing for other outings. Would he make Hannah uncomfortable being so dressed up?

Although, the distance in her expression as she made her way toward his table a few minutes later, coffee in hand, was already making him uncomfortable. What had he done? He was the one who was supposed to be distant tonight, holding back, making it clear this entire coffee meeting was about Abby. He didn’t want to give the wrong impression.

But judging by Hannah’s tight-lipped smile, one of them obviously already had.

He shifted in his seat. “Thanks for coming.” The words sounded even more stilted out loud than they had in his head, and Jude berated himself as Hannah slid into the chair across from him. He tried again. “Seems pretty windy out.”

That was worse. He shook his head slightly, determined not to speak again until Hannah did. Babbling niceties and commenting on the weather weren’t helping. Maybe she’d had a stressful day.