CHAPTER 7

Krista would have asked Hannah to clarify her reasons for practically plunking her down in Mark Vanbruger’s lap if Bobby’s boisterous return and wild story about losing track of Puddles again hadn’t interrupted their conversation.

When Hannah invited Bobby to spend the whole weekend at the farm, dog and all, Krista readily gave permission and drove home alone. This respite from motherhood would give her a perfect opportunity to finish unpacking. Once her son was surrounded by familiar objects, she hoped he’d settle in and accept small-town living without too much more fuss.

Except that the poor kid believed an arch villain lived practically next door. Maybe that was where she should begin. She certainly owed Mark an apology for the sore shin!

This time, she brushed her hair and touched up her lipstick before heading down the street. Not that she was primping. “Yeah, right,” she muttered, disgusted. If she didn’t care to impress him, why was her heart beginning to thump like a pocketful of rocks tumbling in a clothes dryer?

Krista chuckled. Leave it to the mother of an eight-year-old to think of an analogy like that!

As she approached Mark’s house she thought seriously of turning tail and heading home. That notion was so out of character it dismayed her. In two years of widowhood, she’d learned how to face anything life threw at her—with the help of prayer. She’d stopped going to church after being widowed but perhaps it was time to start attending services again. Bobby could use a serious dose of Christian love—and so could she.

Before she could climb the front porch steps, Mark appeared, startling her. She smiled. “Oh, hi.”

“Hello again.” He leaned to one side to look past her. “No bodyguard this time? No attack dog?”

“Nope. You’re safe. I’m all alone. They’re visiting Grandma.”

“Poor Hannah,” Mark quipped. “Oh, well, half the time she has a house full of foster kids so I suppose she can cope with your Bobby.” Seating himself on the top porch step, he gestured to a spot beside him. “Join me?”

“Sure. Thanks.” She settled herself as far away from him as the narrow stairs would allow, then asked, “Have you lived here long?”

“Not really. After I left St. Louis I worked in California but the pace was way too fast for a country boy like me. The more I thought about coming home, the better it sounded. So, I took a pay cut and here I am.”

“At least you had a position lined up. I’m still looking. I did manage to get my Emergency Medical Technician certification and do some volunteer rescue work for the fire department after Bobby started school, but that isn’t considered real job experience. It’s harder for me to find work because I never finished college.”

“That’s Len’s fault. He talked you into marrying him and then got you pregnant.”

Krista smiled. “Bless you. You’re just about the only person, besides Hannah, who hasn’t assumed I had to get married because I was already expecting.”

“I know you too well to ever think that.” Mark reached for her hand.

“Thanks.” His comment made her feel good. His touch made her feel even better. Realizing how much better, she pulled away. “I don’t suppose you know where I might find a waitress job.”

“I might. What’re you doing later tonight?”

“Going to bed,” she said without thinking how her comment might sound to him. A blush warmed her cheeks. “I meant I’m exhausted. As soon as I unpack the rest of my kitchen stuff, I expect to collapse in a heap and sleep till morning.”

“In that case,” Mark said, “why don’t we go out for coffee and homemade pie right now. There’s a little café on the Serenity Square that can usually use an extra hand. If you decide you’d like to work there, I’ll introduce you.”

“I’ll have to change first. I’m not going out in shorts and a T-shirt.”

“You look fine to me just as you are.”

Getting to her feet and hurrying down the stairs so he couldn’t see how deeply his compliment had made her blush, Krista called back, “Give me ten minutes.”

“I’ve given you nine years,” he said wistfully. “I think I can manage to wait a few more minutes.”