Secretly Smitten (25 page)

Aunt Violet went with Anna to the kitchen.

“You weren’t serious about that dating thing, were you?” Anna asked.

“Of course not. Though Zoe loves the idea. I just like to tease about it.”

“Well, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

They carried the deep-dish pie plates to the table and cut generous portions before placing them on dessert plates. The air was sweet with the scent of sugar, apples, and pumpkin.

“Speaking of love . . . ,” Grandma Rose said.

Clare groaned. “Not that again.”

“Bet you girls didn’t know your mom met Michael Conners at her shop.”

Tess brightened. “You did?”

“She did. And he’s a very nice
single
man her age,” Rose offered.

Anna rolled her eyes.

“Michael Conners. Is that the fellow who’s renting the cottage down the street?” Aunt Violet wanted to know.

“The very same,” Aunt Petunia answered.

“He is a nice guy. I bumped into him at the toy store when I picked up something for Sophia. Sometimes she and I go there just to look around for fun. I’ve seen him there a couple of times, in fact,” Tess said.

“Why would he buy toys?” Anna asked. “He doesn’t have any small children.”

“Who knows?” Clare said before biting into her apple pie. “Maybe he likes kids.”

Zoe had been clearing the table of serving dishes and walked into the room to hear Clare’s comment. “Who are we talking about?” She scooted back into her chair.

“Michael Conners. The guy down the street,” Clare said.

“Oh, right, I heard about that,” Zoe said, picking up her fork and taking a bite of pumpkin pie.

Anna looked up. “Heard about what?”

“I heard some people talking about it at church. They said Michael banged his leg up pretty good skiing. Fortunately, it’s just a bad sprain.”

Anna turned off the car ignition and maneuvered the multiple packages from the store.

Once out of the car, she clicked her remote button. One of these days she’d build a garage. The driveway was slippery from an earlier snowfall, so she walked her path carefully to the door. As troublesome as it was, she loved the feel of snowflakes on her eyelashes and catching them on her tongue. When it came to snow, she was a little kid at heart. If she thought no one was looking, she might even have plunged into the fluffy white mixture and made a snow angel. But of course she was much too dignified for that.

A giggle escaped her. What would Michael Conners think if he looked out his window and saw her making angels in the snow?

The air was cold but not frigid, with a clear sky. The glow of moonlight resembled soft lamplight in a cozy room. The quiet crunch of tires on packed snow from a neighbor’s departing car was the only night sound Anna heard. She loved moments like these when Smitten townsfolk had ended their busy days and taken to dinner around the table in the quiet of their homes. A tinge of sadness tugged at her for moments gone so fast, life already lived.

With a contented sigh she unlocked the front door and pushed through. Dropping her keys on the hallstand, she released her bags and fell onto the sofa. “Oh, my aching feet.” She kicked her shoes off and decided to fix some hot chocolate and settle in for the night.

The phone rang. With a groan she shoved herself off the sofa and answered the cordless. “Hello?”

“Anna, dear, I hate to bother you, but it’s my son,” Emma Conners said.

“Oh, hello, Emma. I heard about his accident. Is he doing all right?”

“He says he is, but I’m worried. He lives right down the street from you. Would you mind popping in on him and seeing if he needs anything?”

Anna glanced at her watch. Seven o’clock. She could just call him. There were likely enough pot-roast-slinging widows taking him food, but she couldn’t tell his mother no. “I’d be happy to check on him.”

“Thank you, my dear. And you’ll call me when you get back?”

“Of course.” Anna hung up.

Her hot chocolate would have to wait. Good thing she’d left her coat on. That was one less step. Since the air was pleasantly cold, Anna decided to walk. Michael lived at the end of the street, not too far away.

Sinking deeper into her woolen scarf and mittens, she scrunched her cap snug over her ears and eased along the shoveled sidewalk. The last thing she needed was to have a sprained ankle alongside Michael. In the distance Sugarcreek Mountain stood bold and protective around the small valley of Smitten. Stars twinkled overhead as Anna whispered a prayer for guidance. What would she say? How could she help? She took a deep breath and released it in a puff. Why did she worry? God would give her the answers when she needed them.

She arrived at the house and stepped up on the porch. Though the cottage was older, it had plenty of character with strong wooden columns and an inviting porch swing. She knocked, then wondered how he would let her in. Oh dear, she hadn’t thought about that. Her visit would only cause him more problems. She should have called instead. Maybe he hadn’t heard her and she should just go. But what if he did hear her and he got up, and by the time he answered, she was gone?

Just then she heard uneven footsteps approaching the door.

The door swished open. “Anna, come on in.” Michael stood before her with a crutch snug under each arm. He seemed to be managing, but by the looks of his swollen ankle, he wasn’t going to get very far. He settled onto the sofa and lifted his leg onto the cushions. “What brings you here on this cold, wintry night?”

Closing the door securely behind her, she walked over to a chair near the sofa. “Your mother was worried and asked me to check on you. I’m sorry about your foot.”

“Stupid accident. I wasn’t paying attention.” He shrugged. “It happens.”

She glanced around at the clean hardwood floors, polished stands, simple rugs scattered about, plain boxy furniture, and sparse furnishings. In the corner lay an organized stack of magazines in a holder. Tidy, but sterile. A gas fireplace with flickering flames made the room feel cozy.

“So how are you getting along? I understand meals are being brought in for you.” Earlier she had wondered why everyone made such a fuss about a sprain, but she could see for herself that it was a nasty one.

“Yeah, Pastor Walden saw to it. There’s some leftover lasagna in the kitchen. Would you like some?”

“No thanks.” She tried to swallow the words that were scrambling to get out. “I suppose you could use help with errands and such for a few days. Places you need to go.”

“I’ll manage.” He moved his leg and winced.

“How? You can’t drive with that,” she said, pointing to his swollen right foot.

“I’ll figure it out.”

“Listen, we both know you want to do this on your own, but the fact is you need help. We all do from time to time, you know. I’ve certainly had my turn. It was humbling at first, but that’s what we’re here for, to help each other.” She’d never said that aloud before and wondered why she was confessing it to a virtual stranger.

He shook his head. “I don’t want to bother anyone.”

“I know. But as I said, you have to learn to let folks help you.”

He thought a moment, then seemed to resign himself to his current situation. “That’s good of you, Anna.” There he went again with that soft, vulnerable voice that knocked her guard right off-kilter.

“So will you call me when you need help for errands?”

He sighed. “I will. Thank you.”

He looked miserable, and a pang of compassion hit her. “Hey, anytime you need to get out or be with people, whatever, let me know. I’ll take you out.” Did she have to say it that way?

“Thanks.”

She could tell he thought she was just being nice. Despite her initial reluctance, she decided she would follow through. But once he was better, they would cut ties. Neighbors. That was all they would be.

“So how did your mom like the yarn you bought her?”

He hesitated. “I haven’t given it to her yet. Forgot to take it when I went to see her. I’m sure she’ll like it fine.”

“It’s a worsted weight cotton yarn you bought her. Easy to work with, very durable, just right for knitting dishcloths.”

He smiled. “You really know your stuff.”

“I make it my business to know.”

He nodded.

“Well, I’d better get home before it gets too late.” She pulled on her coat and fumbled with the buttons.

“Anna?”

She turned around to face him. “Yes?”

“I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow afternoon, three o’clock. Will that work for you?”

CHAPTER THREE

M
ichael leaned back into his feather pillow on the sofa. Anna had to have some interest in him or she wouldn’t have come down to his house, right? She could have just called. His ankle ached, so he shifted his weight. He wasn’t sure what intrigued him about her. Maybe the way she spent time with those ladies at her shop, teaching them to knit, making them feel as though they mattered. Which they did, but most people went about their business without paying much notice to others. Not Anna.

He liked that.

Though he didn’t want to get involved with anyone while he was in Smitten, it didn’t hurt to have a friend. Did it?

For some reason it intrigued him, too, that she kept her distance, as though she was afraid to get to know him. His mom said Anna had been married to a military man. Maybe she didn’t like men in uniform. A plump of his pillow and a grin. He was always up for a good challenge. Besides, working on her would give him something to do while he had to lie around with a bad ankle.

He didn’t like her waiting on him, though. Made him feel weak. He fumed a minute. Then a thought hit him. With her tending to his needs, they were sure to get to know one another better. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing. One could always use a good friend.

He reached for a pen and paper. In the meantime, he had a letter to write.

By the time Anna made it home and got ready for bed, she was exhausted. She sat at her vanity and rubbed the cream on her face that guaranteed youthful-looking skin until she was ninety-five. She shook her head. How did she fall for all those commercials?

She leaned into the mirror and scrutinized the laugh lines at the edges of her eyes. After a thorough examination, she picked up her jar of cream and said, “You aren’t doing your job.”