Her Dream Come True. Donna Clayton

easy,” he told her. “The people in this town aren’t going to let you come to Little Haven and tip Tammy’s world off its axis. If you aren’t careful, you’ll send that child into a tailspin.”

      He turned on the heel of his leather work boot and stomped off across the grass.

      Hannah could have called after him. She could have informed him that she didn’t need his warnings. That he had no rights here whatsoever. And neither did anyone else in Little Haven for that matter. But she didn’t say any of these things. She was just glad to see the last of Adam Roth.

      In fact, she was so relieved to see the man go that she wasn’t the least bit aware of how her gaze had latched on to his arrogant, sexy swagger until she’d lost sight of him when he’d turned the corner of the house. Had she been aware of the hungry manner in which she’d stared, she’d have had to admit to wearing one of those imaginary tall, white hats designating her culinary chef of the day.

      

      Adam unbuckled his tool belt, tossed it onto the worn seat and then slid behind the steering wheel of his ancient, battered pickup. He was fuming inside. Fuming to the point that he wouldn’t have been surprised to see smoke coming out his ears if he were to glance at his reflection in the hazy rearview mirror. He felt like a caged grizzly bear who had been poked and prodded with a pointy stick.

      Bobby Ray’s family had finally responded to the letters that had been sent. And Hannah Cavanaugh had come to town.

      Despite his anger, a vivid image flashed before his eyes. He’d been up on the roof when a noise down below in the yard had caught his attention. At first glance, he’d thought the woman had been Tammy. But he soon discovered he was wrong.

      For the rest of his life the image of Hannah Cavanaugh standing on the back lawn would be burned into his brain; the golden, midday sunlight gleaming on her coppery-blond hair, the royal blue of her formfitting dress complimenting her milky skin to perfection, her high-heeled shoes showing off shapely calves. She’d been a dazzling spectacle he wouldn’t soon forget.

      However, the fact that she was a stunner didn’t make her any less irritating.

      He couldn’t believe she actually meant to waltz into Little Haven and upset Tammy’s whole existence. Granted, Tammy was no child. At least, not in the state’s eyes. She was twenty-four, and had the height and build of a woman to prove her age. However, in her mind she was young and innocent, extremely naive and in need of protection.

      Hannah Cavanaugh had referred to her sister as “special” and that was an apt description for Tammy. Adam would be damned if he allowed Bobby Ray’s oldest daughter, or his ex-wife, to hurt the extraordinary young woman. He’d made a promise to Bobby Ray, and he meant to keep it

      Adam realized he was going to have a battle on his hands. He had no legal rights. Hank had warned him of that, over and over. But Adam didn’t care. He’d given his word to Bobby Ray. And to Adam, a man was only as good as his word and his reputation.

      As he made his way down the rutted lane that would take him to the main road, a vivid picture of Hannah Cavanaugh flashed before his eyes. He may never have met the woman before today, but he knew her. Or rather, he knew her like. High-handed feminists. They came rushing into every situation so intent on fixing things, they never stopped long enough to see if those things were even broke. And the mending and adjusting they did always benefited themselves more so than anyone else.

      He’d met more than his share of tyrannical, self-centered women in college and again during his political career in Philadelphia. Hell, he’d even married one of them and tried to make her happy. But he’d quickly discovered that doing so was an impossible feat. A sound of disgust rushed from his lips. Some women were so caught up in success and careers, so focused on what they intended to squeeze out of the world at large, that they couldn’t see or understand what was going on around them.

      Hannah Cavanaugh had said she had to get back to New York where, she’d intimated, she had an all consuming career to get back to. He doubted she had a husband. Or children. Nope. He highly suspected she was far too focused on herself for that.

      Well, he had news for the beautiful Hannah. He was making a vow, here and now. One way or another he was going to toss a wrench into those nicely greased cogs she called her plan.

      

      A plan? A plan? Had she really told Adam Roth that she had a well-thought-out plan?

      Well, she might have arrived in Little Haven with a strategy: sell the house and furniture and procure long-term housing arrangements for Tammy. However, discovering that her sister wasn’t living in an institution had changed everything.

      Hannah paced across the kitchen’s worn linoleum floor as she waited for Tammy. She’d found a note taped to the rickety screen door. Apparently her sister had written it to let visitors know she’d “Gon fishing.” And that she’d “Be bak soon.” And then Tammy had signed her full name.

      A smile had pulled at Hannah’s mouth when she’d read her sister’s carefully printed, block-lettered words. Hannah was pleased to learn that Tammy could write. And if she could write, she could surely read. At least at an elementary level, anyway.

      It was the note that had made Hannah realize how little she knew of her sister. All she had were a few perceptions that had been based on little, and sometimes no, information. The one time she’d forced her mother to talk about Tammy, Hannah had been disturbed by what she’d learned ... and what she’d learned hadn’t been much, before the incident had turned into a huge argument.

      So Tammy was a stranger. And Hannah only had a week, two at the most, in which to garner her sister’s trust.

      The thought was daunting.

      If you aren’t careful, you’ll send that child into a tailspin. Adam Roth’s words floated through her mind like an immutable echo.

      What did he know? Nothing, that’s what. Hannah was here to help Tammy. And she wouldn’t let Adam Roth, or anybody else for that matter, keep her from her goal.

      Afternoon sunlight filtered through the grimy window. Dust floated in the hot, dry air. The curtains were faded and dingy and full of what looked to be weeks’ worth of dust.

      This place needed a good cleaning, and since she could just as well ponder another plan while she was washing a few dishes and wiping down the countertops as she could standing idle, Hannah set to work.

      After washing what she guessed were Tammy’s breakfast dishes, she scrubbed the tabletop and the counters, too. Then she spent a full thirty minutes wiping down the massive stove. The thing was an ancient monstrosity. Hannah guessed it was one of the very first models of gas ranges ever to be manufactured.

      While she rubbed at the accumulated grease, she mulled over how she would deal with this new situation. She didn’t want to upset Tammy by selling the house. But Hannah didn’t see any way around it. She couldn’t very well leave her sister here in Little Haven all alone.

      Learning that Tammy had been on her own here in this house since Bobby Ray’s death made Hannah feel horribly guilty. Had her mother really received three letters alerting her to her ex-husband’s death before she’d responded? Hannah shook her head. Well, she did know her mother had thought Tammy was safe and sound in a state home.

      Hannah shook the curtains out on the back porch, scrubbed the grime from the window and then hung the curtains back on their rods. And as she attacked the floor with a broom and then a mop, she continued to reflect on what she should do about her father’s estate and Tammy’s living arrangements. Maybe her mother could give her some advice.

      No, came a firm, silent reply. You can handle this. Besides, every single time you ask for her guidance you always end up regretting it.

      Before Hannah realized it, the sunlight was casting long shadows across the floor. The linoleum was too worn to shine, but at least she knew it was clean.

      Where could Tammy be? she wondered, glancing out the now-crystal-clear window.