Hometown Hope. Laurel Blount

a rock. That hurt in her eyes hit really close to home. “I wondered the same thing when Marylee got sick. People I expected to come by the hospital...didn’t. Jacob Stone said it didn’t mean they didn’t care. He said that people have a hard time seeing somebody they love suffering.”

      She nodded. “He said the same thing to me.” From the look on her face, she hadn’t found it much more comforting than he had.

      “I should have come by to see him. I’m sorry I didn’t. Your dad was always good to me. Even after what happened senior year—”

      “You know what? Let’s not get into all that.” Anna cut him off. “I’m here because you wanted to talk to me about Jess.”

      All right. If Anna wanted to leave the past in the past, that was fine by him. “Okay. How about I say grace, and we’ll talk while we eat?”

      They settled at the two places he’d set, and Hoyt reached across the table and took her hands in his.

      He always held Jess’s hands when he said the blessing. He hadn’t thought about how inappropriate that might be from Anna’s point of view until he felt her jump. She didn’t pull away, though. Hoyt said possibly the shortest grace in the history of table blessing and released her.

      She immediately put both hands in her lap. Okay, point taken. No more touching. In fact, from the look on her face, he’d better skip the small talk and get straight to the point of this visit before she ran right out the door.

      He pried up a cheesy square of lasagna, set it on her plate and nudged the salad bowl in her direction. Showtime. “You know about Jess, right? How she stopped talking after her mother died?”

      “Pine Valley’s a small town.” Anna frowned as she focused on transferring lettuce from the big bowl to the one by her plate. She didn’t lose a single leaf. “So, yes. I’d heard about that, and of course when she came into the store, I noticed she never said anything. Until last night.” Anna picked up her glass of sweet tea and looked at him over the rim. “Was that really the first time she’d—”

      “It was.” Hoyt couldn’t help smiling at the memory.

      “So is she still talking and everything?”

      “To me, yeah. Just a little bit at first, but more and more. Only me, though. Not anybody else so far.” Hoyt tried using the salad tongs and ended up dumping about half the lettuce on the table. How did Anna manage these things? “But talking at all is a big step forward, according to her doctor. Today she asked me for some syrup for her pancakes. That probably happens every day in other people’s houses, but it felt like Christmas morning over here, you know?”

      Anna’s expression softened. “I can imagine. I’m so glad she’s all right, Hoyt. I felt awful about locking her in. I still can’t believe I did that.”

      “Trust me. If there was ever a time when God took somebody’s goof-up and turned it into gold, this was it. I called her therapist after I left the bookstore last night and told her about the whole thing. Dr. Mills thinks that maybe it was the trauma of being locked in combined with the relief of me coming to find her that finally encouraged her to talk. So since your mistake might turn out to be an answer to some pretty desperate prayers, I don’t think I’d waste much time feeling bad about it, if I were you.”

      Anna studied him, a forkful of lasagna halfway to her lips, her expression unreadable. “I’m so glad,” she repeated finally.

      He probably wasn’t going to get a better opening than that, so he’d better get this moving along. “Me, too. I just hope it lasts.”

      “What do you mean?”

      He hated to say this out loud. He didn’t even like thinking it. “Dr. Mills says that usually once kids like Jess—kids with selective mutism, the docs call them—start speaking, that’s it. They keep on talking. But Jess’s case has never been typical.” As he repeated the therapist’s words, he felt that familiar lump forming in his stomach. “So Dr. Mills can’t say for sure what’s going to happen. But the longer we keep her talking and the more people she starts to talk to, the more likely it is that this will be permanent.” Hoyt paused, fumbling for the best way to say what he needed to say next.

      He should’ve known he wouldn’t have to spell things out for Anna Delaney.

      “I’m assuming I’m here because there’s some way you think I can help.” Anna set down her fork and looked him in the eye. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble. I’ll help Jess in any way I possibly can.” Just as Hoyt relaxed with relief, Anna went on. “I just hope this doesn’t have anything to do with my plans to close the bookstore.”

      His heart sank. “As a matter of fact, it does. Jess talked because of your dad’s store, Anna. The therapist thinks it’s all wrapped up with Marylee taking her there so much when she was little.”

      “But Jess was so young when Marylee died, Hoyt. How could she even remember that?”

      “I asked the same thing, but the therapist said that on some level, she can. Dr. Mills said this goes down deep for Jess. That’s why it’s been such a challenge. But Jess is finally talking again, and that’s all tied up with your store. If Pages closes right now, especially after I promised her it wouldn’t, it could throw everything sideways.”

      Anna looked unhappy, but she shook her head. “I’m really sorry, Hoyt, but there’s nothing I can do. Trust me, I’ve already tried everything to keep the store going. A blue-collar town like Pine Valley just isn’t capable of supporting an independent bookstore.”

      “Your father seemed to do all right.”

      Anna’s eyes flashed. He must have touched a nerve there. “My father devoted most of a good retirement pension and all his savings to keeping Pages afloat. What assets he left had to be sold off to pay his medical bills. There’s no money to subsidize the bookstore now.”

      “Look, I get it. When I inherited Bradley Builders from my own dad, it was circling the drain. But I built it back up, and it more than pays its way now.” He leaned forward, holding her eyes with his own, willing her to believe him. “Maybe I could help you do the same thing with your place.”

      “You run a construction business, though. It’s totally different, don’t you think?”

      Now it was Hoyt’s turn to feel irritated. “I think business is business, Anna.”

      She studied him, her dark brows pulled together thoughtfully. “Where did you learn what to do to save your father’s company? You never took any business classes back in high school. Did you go to night classes over at Fairmont Technical?”

      Hoyt could see where this was going...the same direction things always went with Anna Delaney. Schooling. Books. Classrooms. Those were the only things she’d ever put much stock in.

      “I learned on the job, by making mistakes and then having to figure out how to fix them.” He could see her drawing back. His desperation made him reckless, and he pushed harder. “It’s the best way to learn anything, if you ask me. Way better than reading some book.”

      He regretted the words the instant they were out of his mouth. You never insulted books in front of a Delaney. Anna’s frown darkened, and he hurried on. “Look, things may not even be that bad. I talked to Trisha, and from what she said, your main issue seems to be that you’ve got no reach. You’re basically selling to the same few people over and over again. You need to work on reconnecting with your customer base.”

      “You talked to Trisha Saunders about me?”

      From the tone in Anna’s voice, he was guessing he’d made another wrong step somewhere. This conversation was like walking through a minefield blindfolded. “Well, yeah. She owns the business right next door, so I knew she’d have a handle on how well the location works for foot traffic. And last night Jess said something about Trish wanting to close the bookstore. So, sure. I went and talked to her to get a feel for why you’re