Home to Hart's Crossing (26 page)

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Authors: Robin Lee Hatcher

Tags: #Domestic fiction; American, #Christian, #Neighborhood, #Neighborhoods, #Christian fiction; American, #Family Life, #General, #Romance, #Love stories; American, #Large Type Books, #Fiction, #Religious, #Contemporary

BOOK: Home to Hart's Crossing
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After she and Al had moved into their new home last March, Patti had kept everything in perfect order. Little Miss Susie Homemaker. That was Patti. She loved cleaning and shining and decorating, and her pregnancy hadn’t slowed her down one bit. She couldn’t have imagined the day would come when her home looked like a cyclone hit it.

She heard a knock on the back door and turned to see who it was. Amy Livingston, the thirteen-year-old girl from next door, grinned and waved at her through the glass.

“Come in, Amy. It’s unlocked.”

The girl opened the door. “Hey, Mrs. Bedford. How’re the twins today?”

“They’re sleeping.” She glanced at the baby monitor on the counter. Not a sound came through the speaker, to her great relief.

“Mom said it was okay if I came over as long as I’m not in the way. Will I be in the way? Can I help with something?”

“Amy, you’re a lifesaver. I could definitely use some help. Would you mind folding the laundry while I clean the kitchen and see what I can fix Al for dinner?”

“No, I don’t mind. Is there any special way you fold things?”

Patti laughed. “Any way that gets it done is okay with me.”

She rose from the chair and moved toward the dishwasher. In short order, she had the clean dishes in the cupboards and the dirty ones closed inside the machine. Then, with a bottle of spray cleaner in one hand and a damp cloth in the other, she wiped the countertops, the front of the microwave, and the handles on the refrigerator.

She was staring into the pantry, contemplating dinner, when she heard the first whimper through the monitor. The fullness in her breasts told her it was feeding time. It looked like Al would have to wait for his supper again.

* * *

“Hey, Bedford!”

Standing beside his 1991 Alfa Romeo Spider convertible
a college graduation gift from his parents
Al looked over his shoulder and watched as Jeff Cavanaugh, the town doctor, strode toward him.

“What’s up, Doc?”

Jeff rolled his eyes at Al’s Bugs Bunny impersonation
an old and overused joke
and ignored the question. “You look tired, buddy.”

“Yeah, it’s hard to remember what a good night’s sleep feels like.”

“But your babies are thriving. I was pleased when they were in for their six-week checkup.”

“That’s what Patti said.”

Jeff jerked his head toward the building. “I’d better get inside. I promised Penny I’d help her with a school project her first graders are doing.” He flexed his right arm. “I’m the muscle.”

“Things getting serious between you two?”

“Could be.” Jeff shrugged.

Love was definitely in the air in Hart’s Crossing. Al and Patti had been to two weddings in the past nine months. First there was James Scott and Steph Watson, childhood sweethearts who’d fallen in love again after fifty years apart. They’d wed in late autumn, before the first snows flew. In May, Angie Hunter and Bill Palmer, owner of the local weekly newspaper, tied the knot in a ceremony with the whole town turned out to witness the union. Now, word was Mel Jenkins had proposed to Terri Sampson, the mother of one of Al’s current students, and the wedding was set to take place in December.

Yes, love was in the air. Why not for Jeff and Penny?

Al opened the car door and tossed his briefcase onto the passenger seat. “Cavanaugh, you’re the most eligible bachelor this town’s got left. Good looking and a doctor to boot. What mother wouldn’t want you for her daughter? I’d say your days are numbered.”

Jeff gave him a good-natured punch in the shoulder, then walked toward the main entrance to the school.

On the drive home, Al’s thoughts drifted to the day he and Patti first met. He’d been taken with her from the start. Lucky he hadn’t tripped as he walked Olivia’s mother to her seat at the front of the church. In the months that followed, he made countless trips to Nampa, about a three-and-a-half hour drive from Hart’s Crossing. The more he saw her, the more he knew he wanted to spend his life with her. One of the best days of his life was when he proposed and she said yes.

Maybe Patti was right. Maybe he should look for work outside of Hart’s Crossing. His teaching salary was stretched to the limit with a wife, two babies, payments on a used Honda Odyssey, and a hefty mortgage. Only he didn’t want to leave his hometown. Patti knew that was how he felt before they got married. She’d been in agreement with him. At least, that’s what she’d told him in the beginning.

Approaching their house on White Cloud Drive, Al pushed the button on the remote clipped to the visor, slowed as the garage door opened, then drove in beside the Odyssey. He glanced at the front yard as he exited the car. The lawn needed to be mowed, but he wasn’t keen on doing it with the temperature still hovering around the ninety-degree mark. Cooler weather couldn’t get here fast enough to suit him.

As he opened the door into the house, he called, “I’m home.”

A moment later, Amy Livingston poked her head into the kitchen. “Hi, Mr. Bedford. Mrs. Bedford’s upstairs feeding the twins. I was on my way home.” She waved before making a beeline for the back patio door. “Bye!”

“See ya.”

Two years ago, Amy had been one of his students. She was bright, friendly, and as kids her age go, dependable. From the moment the Bedford’s moved to this house, she’d been a presence in their lives. Maybe because she was an only child with a working mom and a father who traveled a lot for his business. Plus she was crazy about the twins.

She wasn’t the only one who could say that.

Al dropped his briefcase near the entrance of the den before taking the stairs two at a time. He paused in the doorway of the master bedroom.

Patti sat in an overstuffed chair, her legs tucked to one side, one of the babies nursing at her breast. Her long, black, wavy hair was pulled into a ponytail, keeping it out of her face and out of reach of an infant’s grasping fingers.

“Hey, beautiful.”

She looked up with a smile. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I came in as Amy was leaving.” He strode across the room to look at the baby in her arms. “Wes’s turn?”

“Mmm. Sunni ate first.”

He stepped to the side of the pink bassinet. His daughter stared up at him with wide, dark eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be sleepy after you eat?” He lifted her into his arms and kissed the top of her downy-haired head.

Did every dad feel like his heart might explode with joy when he held his child? There wasn’t anything like this. Nothing to compare.

“Al, I’ve been thinking I might want to start supplementing with formula.”

“Really?” He turned to look at Patti.

“I’m not sure I’m making enough milk.”

“Jeff said their weight’s good.”

Tears flooded her eyes and slipped down her cheeks. She lowered her gaze to Weston, but not before Al felt like a complete heel for making her cry
even though he didn’t know what he’d said wrong.

“Patti, I thought breast-feeding was the better way to go. That’s all.”

“Better for you, maybe,” she said softly.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m just tired.”

Al sank onto the ottoman near the chair. “Hey, if you think that’s what you should do

“I don’t know what I think I should do.” She met his gaze again, giving him a tremulous smile. “I love the ease of nursing, and I know it’s better for them. I’ve tried using that pump I got at my baby shower, but…Oh, I don’t know. I just feel like if the twins were on bottles, things would be easier. We could even ask someone to watch them for a little while. Maybe you and I could go to dinner or to a movie instead of staying home all the time.” Patti moved Weston to her shoulder and started patting his back. “Would you order a pizza to be delivered?”

Pizza? That was the fourth time in two weeks.

Al swallowed his objection. His wife was in one of those moods, and he didn’t want to make her cry again.

“Sure. I’ll call it in now.” He glanced at the baby in the crook of his arm. “Come on, Sunni. You can help me decide what to get.”

Chapter 3

PATTI PAUSED A MOMENT in her housecleaning to watch Al as he mowed the back lawn. A blue baseball cap covered his blond hair and shaded his eyes from the sun as he strode toward the east. Clad in a loose tank top and khaki shorts, he walked with a long, easy gait, his bare legs and arms tanned to a dark bronze after a summer of yard work.

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