Mia Ross - A Place for Family

Sensing that John was angry with her didn’t help at all. Not that she could blame him for that, since it was her fault they’d grown apart. She wondered if everyone in Harland would give her the same kind of cool reception he had. With a mental sigh, she resolved to be patient and do her best to restore the connections she’d allowed to lapse. It had been easy to let them go when she’d been so far away. Now that she was back, rebuilding those neglected relationships could mean the difference between success and failure.

Finally, in the shade of an oak tree, Amanda saw the hand-carved sign that had stood in the same spot since long before either of them was born.

Sawyer Farm.

Those two simple words brought back a flood of wonderful memories, and they turned onto a dirt lane shaded by a canopy of ancient white oaks. Weathered split-rail fences bordered the winding driveway that led to a rambling white farmhouse. With broad, welcoming porches, it was framed by gardens filled with every kind of flower that grew in this part of North Carolina. Just walking toward that house made Amanda feel that things might actually work out for her.

Eventually.

They went up the back porch steps, and John dropped her smoky bag on the bench near the door. “That’s seriously all your stuff?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

Questions sparked in his eyes, but to his credit he didn’t voice any of them. “You used to take more than that to church camp.”

It had been ages since she’d even thought about church, so John’s mention of those simple, carefree times made her squirm. “I travel a little lighter now.”

Without responding, he opened the screen door and motioned her ahead of him. Despite his chilly attitude toward her, the gentlemanly gesture was a nice change from fending for herself. She’d been struggling for months to pull her life together in L.A., as one friend after another abandoned her. While John hadn’t exactly rolled out the red carpet, at least he hadn’t turned away when she needed his help.

“The living room looks a little different,” he warned in a hushed voice. “The doctor put Marianne on bed rest a couple weeks ago and she’ll be that way till she has the twins.”

“When are they due?”

“August tenth. Doctor says if she makes it to the end of July, he’ll be happy.”

John sounded nothing like the carefree farmboy Amanda remembered so fondly. The one who’d gallantly stepped up to be her date when her boyfriend broke up with her right before their senior prom. The one who’d paid the DJ to play a set of country ballads especially for her. Under the mirrored ball, with a corsage of tiny pink roses and baby’s breath strapped to her wrist, she’d spent a blissful evening in John’s arms. She’d been to the Academy Awards twice and countless Hollywood parties, but that dreamy high school dance was still the most perfect night of her life.

Looking at him now, she noticed some deep cracks among the laugh lines that bracketed his eyes. Worry, she realized. It didn’t look good on him, but it told her that the generous heart he’d always worn on his sleeve was still alive and well. That was something, anyway.

A cute redhead materialized in the doorway, giving John a flirtatious smile. She was eyeing him as if he was her favorite dessert, and Amanda wasn’t surprised when she batted her long eyelashes.

“Hey, handsome,” she cooed. “I was hoping to run into you.”

Clearly not put off by the very obvious display, he flashed her a grin that could weaken the knees of any female on the planet. “Hey yourself, Ginger. What are you doing here?”

“Interviewing for the nanny job. I think I’d be perfect for it, don’t you?”

Her honey-pie drawl made Amanda want to gag, but John didn’t seem to notice. After making a show of thinking it over, he nodded. “Could be.”

The woman might be perfect for something, Amanda mused, but domestic goddess wasn’t the first option that came to mind.

“Could you put in a good word for me?” Ginger asked. “This would be a great job for me, since I just love your niece and nephew.”

Her supposed affection for the kids was such a thinly veiled act, Amanda couldn’t help getting in on the fun. “Oh, that’s nice. What are their names again?”

Ginger blinked at her as if she’d just noticed someone else standing in the kitchen. “Keith and Emma.”

John’s barely suppressed grin told her the nanny hopeful had missed the mark. Satisfied that she’d correctly nailed Ginger’s intentions, Amanda called up a friendly smile. “I hope it goes well for you.”

“Thanks!”

After another adoring look at John, the clueless woman flounced down the steps and out to a sunny-yellow VW bug. It was the ideal car for John’s not-so-secret admirer, Amanda thought. It wasn’t like her to be so smug, but every once in a while she met someone so transparent, she just couldn’t help it.

Grinning, John shook a finger at her. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“What are the kids’ names?”

“Kyle and Emily. It still wasn’t very nice.”

Amanda recognized that he was trying to sound stern, but the twinkle in his eyes gave him away.

“She’s an empty-headed moron obviously more interested in you than your sister’s children. I can’t imagine she’d have gotten the job even if I wasn’t here to point that out.” An idea popped up, and she sighed. “Is she your girlfriend?”

“Nope. Just a friend.”

“One of many, no doubt.”

Her harsh tone surprised her. Evidently, John was still the fun, great-looking guy he’d always been, and it only made sense that he’d have his pick of the women around Harland. Who he chose to date—or not date—was none of her business.

Her grumbly train of thought was interrupted by a question from the living room. “Is that Amanda Gardner I hear?”

The fact that Marianne recognized her voice after all these years gave Amanda a warm, fuzzy feeling. She took the cue to step into the doorway and wave. “Hi, Marianne.”

She groaned. “Oh, don’t stand out there in the kitchen. It’s such a mess.”

The sink was stacked with soaking pans and dishes, and a jumble of boots and shoes were piled near the door. Some schoolbooks and a newspaper were strewn across the table, but it really wasn’t all that bad, and she said so.

Marianne’s laughter plainly said she disagreed. “You’re so sweet. Come on in.”

John moved aside and let Amanda go in first. A quick glance at him showed her no emotion on his face at all. She couldn’t tell if he was upset about her calling Ginger out or couldn’t possibly care less. The way things had been going for her lately, it was probably the second choice.

When Marianne saw her, she recoiled with the same shocked reaction John had. Quickly, the expression shifted to the kind a Southern lady plastered on when she disapproved of something but would never dream of saying so.

“Well, just look at you,” Marianne gushed in a motherly tone. “You’re so stylish, you could be on the cover of one of those Hollywood magazines.”

She wasn’t criticizing exactly, but she wasn’t pleased, either. Trying not to take it personally, Amanda changed the focus from herself to Marianne. “That’s nothing compared to what you’ve been up to. A new husband wasn’t enough? You had to go for the jackpot with twins?”

“I know, it’s crazy.” Marianne nodded toward the man sitting in a wing chair beside the bed. “This is my husband, Ridge Collins.”

Standing, he offered his hand. “It’s great to meet you.”

His clothes were covered in dust, and she asked, “Did Ginger interrupt your plowing?”

“Something like that. I don’t think she’s the right one for us,” he added, giving John a very male grin.