husband’s—favorite.” Nothing like a reminder of the tragedy that had brought her home to drop her back to earth with a thud.
His expression softened. “You still miss him a lot, don’t you?”
“Every day.” Her voice choked on the last word.
“In a way, I envy him.”
Jolted, she frowned. “Why?”
“Enduring love is in short supply in today’s world. He was a lucky man to find it. Save me a cookie, okay?” With that, he continued toward the coffee nook.
As Lindsey watched him go, another little unwanted electric charge fluttered along her nerve endings. It wasn’t attraction, though. Her heart belonged to Mark. She was just intrigued by this visitor from her past, who had secrets he’d hinted at but hadn’t shared.
And attraction and curiosity were two very different things.
Absolutely.
Chapter Five
“‘I t had been years since anyone lived in the di…’” Jarrod’s halting voice faltered.
“Let’s sound it out, okay?”
Letter by letter, Lindsey helped him work through the sounds until dilapidated emerged.
Nate tried to concentrate on his email, but the scene at the adjoining table in the coffee nook was more than a little distracting. Lindsey hadn’t been exaggerating. Jarrod’s reading skills were dismal.
“‘…dilapidated house, except for rats and pi…’” He stopped again.
Lindsey went through the process again. Jarrod finally got the word.
“‘…pigeons. Everyone in my class walked on the other side of the street when they passed, es…’”
Nate took a sip of coffee. This was downright painful.
The phone rang behind the counter, and Lindsey rose. “My dad had to run to the post office, Jarrod. You read ahead and work through the words while I answer that, then you can read it out loud when I come back.”
The boy watched her go, gave the book a disgusted look, and heaved a loud sigh.
Nate leaned back in his chair and shifted toward him. “What are you reading?”
Shooting him a wary glance, Jarrod held up the book. Based on the somewhat eerie cover, it looked like the kind of suspenseful story an eleven-year-old boy would like.
“Any good?”
“I don’t know. I hate reading. And writing.”
“How come?”
“It’s boring. And it’s hard.”
“It doesn’t have to be either. I read and write every day in my job, and it’s pretty exciting.”
“Yeah?” Jarrod regarded him, clearly skeptical. “So what are you, a lawyer or something?”
“No. I write for a newspaper. I just got back from Afghanistan, writing stories about the war.”
“Yeah?” The youngster’s interest picked up. “Were you around the tanks and guns and everything?”
Nate’s fingers tightened on the coffee cup. “Every day.”
“That must have been cool.”
“Most of the time it was scary.”
“So why did you do it?”
Even kids were asking him that question now. “I like to write. And there were interesting stories to tell. But I’ve also been a lot of other places around the world, writing different kinds of stories. And I read a lot. Most of it on this.” He tapped his laptop. “That’s how I do some of my research. Do you use the computer very much?”
“When my mom lets me. I like playing games.”
“You ever use it to look up stuff you’re interested in?”
He wrinkled his nose. “Not unless they make us at school.”
“Too bad. I’m getting ready to start on a story, and I could use some help with research. I’d even give an assistant a credit line.” Nate frowned as the words left his mouth. What was that all about?
“You mean the person’s name would be in the newspaper?” Another flicker of interest sparked in Jarrod’s irises.
Okay, he was in now. He’d just have to wing it. “Yeah.”
“What’s the story about?”
Good question.
As he tried to come up with an answer, more unbidden words tumbled out of his mouth. “Children who lose one or both of their parents, and what that means in their lives.”
Now where had
His expression softened. “You still miss him a lot, don’t you?”
“Every day.” Her voice choked on the last word.
“In a way, I envy him.”
Jolted, she frowned. “Why?”
“Enduring love is in short supply in today’s world. He was a lucky man to find it. Save me a cookie, okay?” With that, he continued toward the coffee nook.
As Lindsey watched him go, another little unwanted electric charge fluttered along her nerve endings. It wasn’t attraction, though. Her heart belonged to Mark. She was just intrigued by this visitor from her past, who had secrets he’d hinted at but hadn’t shared.
And attraction and curiosity were two very different things.
Absolutely.
Chapter Five
“‘I t had been years since anyone lived in the di…’” Jarrod’s halting voice faltered.
“Let’s sound it out, okay?”
Letter by letter, Lindsey helped him work through the sounds until dilapidated emerged.
Nate tried to concentrate on his email, but the scene at the adjoining table in the coffee nook was more than a little distracting. Lindsey hadn’t been exaggerating. Jarrod’s reading skills were dismal.
“‘…dilapidated house, except for rats and pi…’” He stopped again.
Lindsey went through the process again. Jarrod finally got the word.
“‘…pigeons. Everyone in my class walked on the other side of the street when they passed, es…’”
Nate took a sip of coffee. This was downright painful.
The phone rang behind the counter, and Lindsey rose. “My dad had to run to the post office, Jarrod. You read ahead and work through the words while I answer that, then you can read it out loud when I come back.”
The boy watched her go, gave the book a disgusted look, and heaved a loud sigh.
Nate leaned back in his chair and shifted toward him. “What are you reading?”
Shooting him a wary glance, Jarrod held up the book. Based on the somewhat eerie cover, it looked like the kind of suspenseful story an eleven-year-old boy would like.
“Any good?”
“I don’t know. I hate reading. And writing.”
“How come?”
“It’s boring. And it’s hard.”
“It doesn’t have to be either. I read and write every day in my job, and it’s pretty exciting.”
“Yeah?” Jarrod regarded him, clearly skeptical. “So what are you, a lawyer or something?”
“No. I write for a newspaper. I just got back from Afghanistan, writing stories about the war.”
“Yeah?” The youngster’s interest picked up. “Were you around the tanks and guns and everything?”
Nate’s fingers tightened on the coffee cup. “Every day.”
“That must have been cool.”
“Most of the time it was scary.”
“So why did you do it?”
Even kids were asking him that question now. “I like to write. And there were interesting stories to tell. But I’ve also been a lot of other places around the world, writing different kinds of stories. And I read a lot. Most of it on this.” He tapped his laptop. “That’s how I do some of my research. Do you use the computer very much?”
“When my mom lets me. I like playing games.”
“You ever use it to look up stuff you’re interested in?”
He wrinkled his nose. “Not unless they make us at school.”
“Too bad. I’m getting ready to start on a story, and I could use some help with research. I’d even give an assistant a credit line.” Nate frowned as the words left his mouth. What was that all about?
“You mean the person’s name would be in the newspaper?” Another flicker of interest sparked in Jarrod’s irises.
Okay, he was in now. He’d just have to wing it. “Yeah.”
“What’s the story about?”
Good question.
As he tried to come up with an answer, more unbidden words tumbled out of his mouth. “Children who lose one or both of their parents, and what that means in their lives.”
Now where had
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