Heaven Sent

“It means you’re the kind of person who needs roots, like me. To plant them deep and watch your life grow.” Nanna tapped her fingers against the dash. “Turn here. Right there in front of the blue shop.”

Hope eased Nanna’s old sedan into a parking spot. The hand-painted sign on the row of shops read Field of Beans. “I’m not a tree. I don’t have roots.”

“You know darn well what I mean, you’re being stubborn.” Nanna opened her door. “Kirby, dear, bring those crutches. I can handle the steps by myself.”

Hope saw the nurse’s exasperated look in the rearview. “Don’t tell me she’s always like this?”

“Usually she’s worse.” The young nurse hopped out of the car, hurrying to help.

Hope listened to her grandmother issue orders to Kirby as she situated the crutches beneath her arms. Nanna might be injured, but her spirit remained unscathed. Hope stepped out into the fresh spring morning to lend Kirby a hand.

Already the sun was hot, and dust mixed in the air. She smelled freshly ground coffee and baking muffins. “Nanna, is there anything you want from the store?”

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Nanna wobbled to a stop. “You’re coming to the meeting with me. You can do your errands-running later.”

“But you have Kirby—”

“Kirby has to go fill some prescriptions for me.”

“I have to run over to Zach’s garage and rescue my Jeep. Then I have to grocery shop.” Hope took hold of her grandmother’s fragile elbow. “Don’t worry, I’ll help Kirby get you inside—”

“Look, there’s Matthew Sheridan crossing the street.” Nanna took a stronger step. “It looks like he’s heading for Karen’s coffee place, too. Good. I’ve been needing to speak with him.”

“What you need to do is concentrate or you’re going to fall off those things. Maybe we should get the wheelchair from the trunk—”

“Don’t you dare. There’s only three stairs, and I’m starting to get the hang of these crutches.” Nanna hobbled forward, then stopped in the middle of the first board step. “Why, Matthew. The man I’ve been looking for.”

“Me?” He strolled to a stop on the sidewalk above, his face shaded by the brim of his Stetson. “Nora Greenley. I can’t believe you’re up and around.”

“It’s hard to keep an old warhorse down,” Nanna quipped as her fingers caught Hope’s sleeve. “Matthew, I have a terrible problem up at the house. Now, I could have called the McKaslin boy, but I hear you’re a better carpenter. I need some work done on my kitchen.”

“I’d be happy to come take a look.” He held out his hand, palm up. It was a strong hand with calluses thick on his sun-browned skin. “Do you need help up these stairs?”

“I can handle the stairs. You talk a minute with my granddaughter and find a time she can show you the kitchen.” Nanna was suddenly busy crutching up the steps and avoiding Matthew’s gaze. “Hope, be a dear and handle this for me.”

“You know I can’t say no to you, Nanna.” But Hope did feel suspicion burn in her heart. What was her grandmother up to?

“Kirby will see me in, dear. Just make sure you come and join me. If I need help, I’d hate to interrupt the meeting. You understand.”

“I understand.” Was that a twinkle in the older woman’s eye? Nanna knew better than to try to fix her up with poor Matthew Sheridan, didn’t she? “Try to behave until I get in there, Nanna.”

“You know me.” Her crutches creaked against the board walkway.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Hope’s chest felt tight watching the frail lady ease her way over the threshold and into the café, as determined as an Olympic athlete.

Matthew leaned against the wooden rail. “Looks like Nora’s keeping you busy.”

“Busy? I’m running like a madwoman. It’s not even lunchtime and she’s exhausted me.” Hope couldn’t quite meet his gaze. She remembered what Nanna had said about his wife’s death. She remembered the loneliness in his eyes. “I guess she wants some work done on her stove and sink.”

“Well, I don’t pretend to be the best in town when it comes to appliances, but I can take a look at that sink.” Matthew splayed both hands on the weathered rail. “I’m roofing the McKaslins’ barn this week. I can drop by, say, Monday morning, if that’s no problem.”

“That will be soon enough, I’m sure. I didn’t notice any leak when I washed the dishes this morning. I have this funny feeling there’s no real hurry. I think Nanna wanted to try to get the two of us together.”

“I had that feeling, too.” He shrugged one shoulder uneasily, looking off down the street. “Did Zach get your Jeep fixed?”

“It’s repaired and waiting for me. Thanks again for helping me out. It would have been a long miserable walk.”

“No problem.” He tipped his hat, a polite gesture. “Well, I better get going. Don’t want to be late for my first committee meeting.”

“You’re on the planning committee?”

“My mom talked me into it this morning. She extorted me, is more like it.” A wry grin touched his mouth as he took a step toward the open door. “She’s taking care of my sons, so I’m in a bind and she knows it. It’s a shame when you can’t trust your own mother.”

“Or grandmother.” Hope hated that she had to follow him toward the gaping door. A bad feeling settled hard in her stomach, the kind that foretold disaster.

“What does that mean?” he asked. Sunlight brushed him with a golden glow, highlighting the wary slant to his eyes. The wry grin faded from his mouth. “You don’t think my mom and your grandmother—”

“I sure hope not, but at this point do we give them the benefit of the doubt?”

“I don’t know, my mom’s been kind of sneaky lately.” Matthew shook his head. “And obviously off her rocker. She knows you’re only visiting. Maybe it’s coincidence.”

“Let’s hope so, or my grandmother is in big trouble, and I don’t care how fragile she is.”

“Somehow, I doubt she’s in much danger.” Matthew caught the edge of the open door and gestured for Hope to go first.

“You haven’t seen my temper.” Laughing, she breezed by him.

The wind caught her long curls and brushed the silken tips against the inside of his wrist. His grip on the door faltered, but she didn’t seem to notice that the bell overhead jingled furiously. She smelled like spring, like new sunshine and fresh flowers.

“Isn’t it marvelous that Hope has agreed to take my place on the committee?” Nora Greenley’s voice rang like a merry bell above the clash of conversation in the homey little café. “Matthew, that means the two of you will be working side by side. Doesn’t that sound terrific?”

“Nanna!” Shock paled Hope’s face. “But—”

“You know I’m not well, dear, and the doctor wants me to get as much rest as possible.”

“Yeah, but—” A fall of black hair cascaded across Hope’s face, hiding her profile as she leaned her grandmother’s crutches against the wall. Embarrassment stained her creamy complexion. She looked at him helplessly.

“It’s all right, Hope. I’m getting used to the manipulative behavior of old women with nothing else to do but interfere in my business.” He gave Nora a wink so she’d know he wasn’t mad. Well, not too mad.

“Watch who you’re calling old, young man.” But Nora’s eyes were laughing at him, as if she were enjoying this far too much. “Helen is calling the meeting to order. She’s about to announce Hope is taking over my position. I can’t tell you what a relief it is. Hope, dear, come sit down here between me and Matthew—”

It was too late to escape. Helen’s voice rose above the sound of the coffee grinder at the counter. And only two unoccupied chairs remained close by. If he wanted to escape, he would have to excuse himself through half of the crowded café.

Hope shot him an apologetic look as she took one of the two remaining chairs. Her hair, unbound and rich, tumbled across her shoulders, catching the sprinkle of sunlight through the curtained window. Her curls shone like polished ebony.

“Now, if Nora is settled,” Helen said as the room silenced. “I’ll let her tell about how her wonderful granddaughter, whom we haven’t seen in quite a few years, has agreed to take her position on our committee. Nora—”

“I didn’t agree to anything,” Hope leaned close to whisper. “Just so you know.”