Raeanne Thayne Hope's Crossings Series Volume One: Blackberry Summer

He didn’t answer for a moment. When he did, his tone was solemn. “If not for me, you’d be up and around and handling your own life with your usual terrifying efficiency.”

She stared at him as all the pieces clicked into place. “Are you still hung up on that? I told you, you’re not responsible for that accident.”

His jaw tightened but he said nothing.

“That’s what this is about,” she said. “All of it. Why you think you have to help me with my shed roof, why you’re fixing Owen’s bike, why you picked up my branches the other day. You think you owe me something because of the accident. Because you feel responsible.”

He gave her a cool look. “Of course not,” he drawled, even though she could see her words had struck home. “Haven’t you figured it out yet, Claire? I’m a guy. I just want to sleep with you.”

The air suddenly thickened with tension, currents seething in the air like the swirls and rivulets of melting snow running fast and high in Sweet Laurel Creek.

She had a wild image of them together, mouths and bodies tangled, heat and fire and glorious passion.

A shiver rippled down her spine, but she wasn’t sure if it sprung from her poor, neglected libido reacting with grand enthusiasm to the idea or the rest of her plunging into full-fledged panic.

“Relax, Claire. That was a joke. I’m not going to jump you right here in your kitchen.”

“Of course you’re not. I never thought you would.”

That incongruous dimple flashed. “One never knows.”

Her stomach trembled and for once she was grateful she couldn’t stand without difficulty because of her stupid cast. She had a feeling if she tried, her knees would barely support her weight.

Much to her relief, she was spared from having to answer by the return of Owen, followed by a waddling Chester.

“Hey, Mom, something’s wrong with the internet. I can’t get on the game site.”

She drew in a breath and tried to shift gears. “I’ll have to figure it out after Chief McKnight leaves.”

“Which I’m just about to do.” Riley grabbed his jacket off the hook by the back door.

“I didn’t mean you had to leave now.”

“You’ve got to help with homework and fix computers and I’ve got about four hours of paperwork to do. Owen, I’ll be by after school tomorrow with a load of replacement shingles. You still in?”

Her son looked suddenly sly. “Can I use a hammer?”

“I’m counting on it, ace. Claire, I’ll see you tomorrow. Take care of yourself.”

Good advice, she thought as she watched him go. If she were sincere about following it, she would tell him firmly not to bother coming back. She didn’t need the sort of heartache that was bound to follow Riley McKnight.

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#ulink_e3abb7ec-3282-5f0b-930a-d0bd7753c3b4)

THIS TIME WHEN RILEY worked out in her yard, Claire forced herself not to gawk out the window at him. She focused instead on her first beading project since the accident, a fairly simple bracelet she was making out of recycled glass beads from Ghana in lovely aqua tones, with metalwork starfish charms.

She had her supplies set out in the family room—the beads, the spacers, the pliers and cutters—but the limitations of a broken arm presented definite challenges. Claire had sympathy for some of the senior citizens she used to teach at the community center, their hands gnarled and swollen from arthritis.

Usually she found a quiet sort of peace when she worked, the tactile pleasure of the textures and shapes, the unmatched delight of creating something beautiful from only her imagination, her ever-growing bead collection and a little hard work. But this afternoon, even threading the waxed cord onto the needle was an exercise in frustration and she almost quit a half-dozen times.

Every time she was tempted to put the project away, though, she reminded herself that she was exercising, working her arm, hand and wrist muscles as her occupational therapist insisted.

She found even something as basic as a wrapped loop a challenge. She was struggling to hold the pliers and bend the wire when her cell phone rang.

Usually she hated interruptions while she was beading and tried to remember to turn off her ringer. In this case, she jumped at any excuse to take a rest, especially when she saw the identity of her caller on the phone display.

“Hi, Evie. How’s the most brilliant bead store manager in the entire Mountain West?”

Her store manager snorted. “Suck-up. You really think that’s going to work with me?”

Claire smiled, her frustration subsiding in the sheer joy of talking with one of her dearest friends. “It’s worth a try. How are things?”

“Crazy-busy. You wouldn’t believe the pre-Mother’s Day business we’re seeing. We’re rocking right now. That class we did for that memory charm bracelet you designed was standing room only. Seriously.”

“That’s great, Evie. Thank you so much for covering everything for me.”

“No worries.”

“I’m still planning to be back Monday. I got the all clear from Dr. Murray today. I hope I can make things a little easier for you then.”

“Don’t push it. There’s no need for you to rush back before you’re ready.”

“I’m so ready. If I don’t get out of this house for something besides doctor appointments and therapy, I might do something crazy. Like take up knitting or something.”

Evie laughed. “We wouldn’t want that. You’ve got enough hobbies, hon.”

“I can’t afford any more.”

“You know you’re going to have to pace yourself. When you first come back to work, you’re going to want to jump back into everything you did before, but you’ll have to take things slow.”

“Are you speaking as my friend or as a physical therapist?”

“I’m retired,” Evie said automatically. “But, okay, both.”

“I know, I know. I promise, I’ll be good.”

Evie made another sound of disbelief but didn’t argue. “I’m actually calling because we’re running low on our heavy-gauge wire. If I place the order before the close of business today, we can get a shipment Monday, but I thought I’d better run it past you.”

“Whatever you think best.”

“We need it, obviously, but our usual distributor raised their price five percent a few weeks ago. Do you want me to shop around to try to find a better deal?”

She did a quick calculation in her head of the discount they received buying in bulk. Even though math wasn’t her strong suit, she’d become rather more adept than she ever expected at figuring percentages in the two years she’d owned the store.

“Let’s do half of what we normally order. What we lose for the quantity discount, we might be able to make up by finding a different supplier with a better price point.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking, but thought I should check with you.”

“You don’t need me, Evie. We both know you could run the store in your sleep.”