Hope's Discovery (THE MATCHMAKER TRILOGY) (12 page)

“This is his wife. What can I do for you?” The voice was clear and sharp. The image of the grandmother from
Flowers in the Attic
flashed in his mind. The hair on his arms stood and his skin chilled.

“I’m a business associate. I can call at a later…”

“I said what can I do for you?”

“Nothing, ma’am. I’ll call another time. Thank you,” he said and disconnected the phone call.

What had he gotten himself into? Donald Buchanan had warned him against letting his wife know what was going on. He’d said he feared for Hope’s safety.

If Trevor couldn’t stop Donald Buchanan, he had to stop Hope.

“I can’t believe you told Dad and upset Mom like that.” Carissa’s arms flew in the air inside the confines of Hope’s car. “Did you see her face? She was heartbroken.”

“You would rather I didn’t say anything? You would rather I find out my answers behind her back and never tell her?”

“What I’m saying, Hope, is she shouldn’t have found out by overhearing it. You should have had them both right there with you when you discussed it. Not starting with Dad and then moving on to Mom.”

“I didn’t mean to tell him right then. It just came out,” she said as she drove down Carissa’s street.

“You’d better do this all fast. It’s killing Mom that you need to do it at all. I hope that Trevor knows what he’s doing.”

“
That
Trevor?” Hope was sure to hear Carissa’s opinion on him now. “You know, you weren’t very nice to him.”

“I don’t trust him.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Carissa snorted out a laugh. “He picked you up in a cemetery.”

“He didn’t pick me up.” She held back her own laugh and shook her head.

“Either way. He
meets
you in a cemetery, mourning over someone you shouldn’t have been mourning over anyway,” she added, living up to Hope’s prediction. “Then he comes into the school and inquires about our classes when his niece doesn’t even live here? And then…oh and then he happens into your store, and now you’re painting his picture.”

“I was already painting it,” she admitted, wrinkling up her nose. She caught her sister’s stare. “I couldn’t get his face out of my mind. I’ve seen it in my dreams. Just like Grandma Katie said,
He’ll come for you.
”

“I have decided you’ve lost your ever-loving mind.”

“I haven’t, but I might be losing my heart.” The smile was there. She felt it on her face and her whole body felt light.

“Oh, dear!” Carissa shoved though the contents of her purse for her keys. “I can’t believe you. You need a shrink.”

“So now you’re going to go to bed mad at me too? Mom’s mad. You’re mad. Dad’s not too happy…”

“And you think going on with this is going to change that? Stop while you’re ahead.”

“I can’t,” she said softly. “I need to do this.”

“Then be careful with who you hurt with it.” Carissa opened the door to the car. “And by the way, I’d really reconsider this Trevor guy too. I swear he’s hiding something. I don’t know what it is, but—”

“And when you’re wrong and I marry the man?” She raised her eyebrows as a dare.

“Then I’ll take it all back. But, Hope, don’t go run off to Vegas and get married tonight to shut me up. I’m allowed to worry about you. It’s been my job since the day Mandy walked into the juice store and told me she was pregnant with my sister.” She shut the door and waited until Hope rolled down the window. “I love you. Take care of yourself and I’ll be happy.”

“I will. I promise.”

How could she have hurt everyone she loved? But she had.

Hope tossed and turned and sat up in bed. She pulled her hair over her shoulder and huffed out a breath. Was it worth it? Did it really matter who had been part of who created her?

Yes, it did matter. It had always mattered.

Hope swung her feet to the side of the bed and set them on the floor. She slipped her feet into her slippers and walked to the kitchen. Opening the door to the refrigerator, she pulled out the orange juice and reached for a short glass in the cupboard. She sat down at the table and poured the orange juice into the glass. Then she sat with it in her hands, never taking a drink.

So many things had run through her head since she’d told her father about her plans. The pain in her mother’s eyes was enough to make her rethink the whole thing. She was used to Carissa being angry with her. That was normal. Sisters were always at each other for something. But it was what she’d said about Trevor that made her anxious.

Carissa didn’t trust him. The thought alone angered Hope, but it shouldn’t, and that angered her more. Carissa had always watched out for her and now wouldn’t be any different. But there were some things that didn’t click when Hope thought about them.

Why was Trevor still in Kansas City? What insurance investigation would possibly take so long? Why did he suddenly pop up at the cemetery, the school, and her store?

She finally drank down the juice. She hated herself for thinking too hard. There wasn’t anything she wanted more than for Trevor to have all her answers and to be her answer.

Her morning was shaky and dragged on. She’d had three snippy old ladies in her shop, all of whom took jabs at her art. Thomas had new students, and she wanted to tell them to try a quieter form of expression, but she was sure if she did, he’d hit her upside the head with a drumstick. The pants she’d put on didn’t fit quite right, and her hair had gone flat in a matter of moments. Had she not wanted Trevor to walk through the door, she’d lock it.

And then he did.

It was past one thirty. He carried a pizza and a two-liter bottle of soda. When he smiled, he looked a bit shaky too. That didn’t help her mood.

“Hi,” she managed, but it didn’t sound polite.

“Hey. I hope you like pizza,” he said, lifting it with a forced smile.

“Who doesn’t like pizza?” She walked around the counter, brushed his lips lightly with a kiss, and took the pizza from him.

“My sister.”

“What?” She turned her head as she walked toward the back of the store.

“My sister. She doesn’t like pizza.”

“Really?”

He shrugged. “She worked at a pizza place during high school. Might just be she’s tired of it for eternity.”

“I can’t imagine.” Hope opened a cabinet and took out two paper plates. She set them on the table and reached for two coffee mugs from her rack.

“I didn’t know what you’d want, so I got cheese.” He winced as he said it, and she laughed.

“You can’t go wrong with that.”

Trevor nodded and reached into the box.

“Wait,” she said, stopping him.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m in a real lousy mood. The food can wait a minute.” She set down the mugs and closed the lid to the pizza. She walked a step closer to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I think we should kiss.”

“I thought we did that,” he said, holding his hands out to the sides.

“No, that was a peck. A spiteful one at that. Hold me and kiss me.”

“My hands have cheese and sauce on them.” He grinned.

“Fine. I’ll hold. You kiss.”

He dipped his head down until their lips were a breath apart. The anticipation of the kiss already lifted her spirits. But when his arms came around her, his hands careful not to touch her clothes, and he pulled her to him tight, the air whooshed out of her. He took possession of her lips. She felt the coarseness of his unshaven skin rub against her face as his tongue sought hers.

Hope pulled herself to him tighter and felt her knees go weak. He nipped at her lip, took her mouth again, and left her completely boneless when he pulled away and rested his forehead on hers.

“Okay,” she said, catching her breath. “That’s better.”

“Oh My, do you know what you do to me?” His words were carried on a breathless whisper as well.

She knew exactly what she did to him. She’d pressed herself extremely close and though she’d meant to lock the door she never had. “We’d better eat that pizza.”

“We’d better.” He stepped back to let her move away from him. Ripping a piece of paper towel from a roll on the table, he wiped off his hands. “Last night I…” He turned his head. “Oh, wow.”

Hope lifted her head up and watched as he was pulled toward his portrait.

“She’s going to flip. She’s just going to flip!”

“Well, that will be a sight,” she joked, but a warmth she’d never felt before washed over her as he admired her work.

“Oh, Hope… there are no words.” His voice was awed. He cocked his head as he moved in closer to the canvas. “Thank you.”

“I mean it.”

“So do I, now say thank you.” She waited for him to turn his eyes to her.

“Thank you.” His lips were soft, but the smile reached his eyes and bore right into her heart.

“I can’t wait to see her face when you give it to her.”

Trevor moved to her and gathered her in his arms again. “Thank you,” he said and kissed her gently. “Thank you.” He kissed her again. “Thank you.”

“You back there?” The moment fizzled when she heard her sister’s voice call from the front door.

“We’re back here having lunch,” Hope called out.

“We’re?” Carissa asked as she cleared the back wall. Her eyes widened and then narrowed as she looked at Trevor. “Oh.”

Trevor gave Carissa a nod. “Hello, Carissa. Nice to see you again.”

“Trevor,” she said coolly, at which Hope shot her a warning with her eyes. “Nice to see you too.” She added a smile and Hope took a breath.

“Want some pizza?” Trevor asked her, opening the lid to the box.

“No, I’m trying really hard to lose all that baby fat.” She pointed to Hope. “Don’t you even point out how old that baby is now.”

“Not a word.” Hope ran her fingers over her lips as if to zip them.

“Wow.” Carissa moved further into the small room and looked over the painting that Hope had finished the night before. “You will never cease to amaze me. This is wonderful.”

Hope exchanged glances with Trevor. “Thank you,” she said as the bell on the front door chimed. “Excuse me.” She left them alone.

Trevor swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the ball of dread stuck in his throat.

“I have some soda. Can I get you some?”

“No, I’m fine,” Carissa said, her voice unthreatening. He took that as a positive sign. “She really did a nice job on your portrait.”

“She really did. My mom is going to love it.”

Carissa nodded. “She sure is. Your mom is in New York?”

He nodded back to her. More examining the boyfriend of the little sister; he’d known this was coming.

“She tells me she has you helping her find out about Mandy.”

If nothing else, she was quick to the point of the tension between them. “Yes. She asked me to find out about her. Hope is interested in finding out who her biological father is.”

Carissa walked to the seat that Hope would have occupied had they ever had the chance to start lunch. She sat, rubbed her hands on her skirt, and looked up at him. “I don’t want her hurt.”

“I know. I have no intention of hurting her.” He gripped the back of the vacant chair, hoping to keep his calm as Carissa looked him over. Could she see that he was keeping things from Hope? From all of them?

“Ruth Marlow. Have you already found her?”

“Mandy’s mother.” He walked around the chair and sat down. The mere fact that Carissa had mentioned Mandy’s mother meant she was giving up information whether she’d wanted to or not.

Carissa laced her fingers together and set them in her lap. “I contacted her when I was fifteen.” Her voice was shaky. “The woman wasn’t too cooperative in helping me build a better picture of my mother. She asked me not to contact her again. As far as she was concerned, Mandy Marlow was dead to her when she walked out the door after begging for money.”

Ruth Marlow hadn’t been a wealth of information to him either.

She sat quietly for a moment. Her knuckles were white, and Trevor watched her shoulders tighten before she shifted her eyes to him. “That is the one and only time I’ve ever admitted that I sought out Mandy’s family. Please promise me you’ll never, ever mention it.”

“Not a word,” he promised, realizing it was a big moment between him and Carissa. She trusted him, and he wasn’t going to disappoint her.

“Thank you.” The wavering in her voice filled the small room with the tension of her disapproval over what Hope might discover. “I don’t know why she has to do this. It really pisses me off.”

“She just feels like it’s a piece that’s missing in her life.” The worst part was that he agreed with Carissa, but he had to support Hope.

“I suppose I understand that, but you’re encouraging her?”

He shook his head. “No. As a matter of fact, I told her that she wouldn’t be finding out anything good. Things don’t usually end well when children go in search of their birth parents.” He was speaking the words, but he already knew no matter what kind of picture they painted of Mandy Marlow, Donald Buchanan was waiting in the wings and he
would
be meeting Hope.