Small-Town Homecoming. Lissa Manley

houses, he’d thought all parents were in a constant war. Turned out it was just his.

      That had been a significant turning point in his life. Unfortunately, he’d turned the wrong way.

      And now, not surprisingly, his parents were divorced. Mom had done well. Dad? Curt wasn’t exactly sure.

      “Don’t get any ideas,” Jenna said to Sam. “This glue is for car models only.”

      “Right,” Curt said, trying to sound stern, hoping he hadn’t inadvertently given Sam any ideas. “Models only.”

      “Yoo-hoo, I’m back,” a female voice called.

      Curt turned and saw a little gray-haired woman toddling into the kitchen, a huge pink purse slung over her shoulder. She wore a powder blue pantsuit with thick-soled snow-white tennis shoes and sported bright red lipstick on her thin lips.

      Curt rose.

      “Miss Landry, you’re back,” Jenna said. “Join us.” She pulled out a chair.

      As she moved toward the chair, Miss Landry’s gaze landed on Curt. “Well, who is this?” She slowly sat in the chair, holding her purse across her body as if it held the crown jewels.

      Jenna made the introductions. “Miss Eileen Landry, this is Mr. Curt Graham, our new guest.” Jenna regarded Curt. “Miss Landry has been staying with us while she is in town visiting her ill sister.”

      Curt held out his hand. “Good to meet you, ma’am.”

      Miss Landry took his hand in her tiny one. “Yes, it is.” With shrewd blue eyes she looked him over from her perch on the chair. “My, aren’t you a handsome fellow.”

      Her directness took him by surprise. “Um...thank you.”

      She turned sharp eyes to Jenna. “I assume you noticed, my dear.”

      Jenna stilled. “Er, well, of course.” She smiled brightly as she went to the stove, seemingly studiously avoiding Curt’s gaze. “Can I get you some of that chamomile tea you like so much?”

      “That would be wonderful,” Miss Landry said. “Then I’m going to go take a little nap before dinner. I wore myself out shopping on Main Street. Of course, the exercise does me good, but I’m old, and I am a bit weary.”

      “Do you have anything that needs to be brought in?” Curt asked at the mention of shopping. “My mom never returned from shopping without at least one bag.”

      “Why, yes, I do, actually.” She slid a set of keys attached to a stretchy thing off her slender, age-spotted wrist and held them out to Curt. “The bags are in the trunk.”

      Curt took the keys, then crooked a thumb over his shoulder, looking at Sam. “You want to help me, bud?”

      “Yes!” Sam said, springing to his feet. “Can I push the button that opens the trunk?”

      “You bet,” Curt said.

      Miss Landry patted her purse, regarding Sam. “I have some candy in here. You can have a piece when you get back.”

      “Okay,” Sam said, tugging on Curt’s elbow. “Let’s go!”

      He and Sam went out to Miss Landry’s car, a huge baby blue boat of a luxury car, circa 1995. He noted that light blue seemed to be a theme with her.

      Sam gleefully pushed the button on the fob and the trunk popped open. He and Curt grabbed the bags in the trunk and carried them back into the house, setting them at the base of the oak staircase near the front door.

      Curt followed a skipping Sam back into the kitchen.

      “Excellent work, young man,” Miss Landry said to Sam. “Here’s your reward.” She handed Sam two snack-size candy bars.

      Sam took the candy.

      “What do you say, Sam?” Jenna asked.

      “Thank you,” Sam said dutifully.

      “Would you like some, Mr. Graham?” Miss Landry asked.

      “I never turn down chocolate.”

      Miss Landry dug two more pieces of candy out of her cavernous purse and handed them to Curt. “So, Jenna told me you grew up here in Moonlight Cove.”

      “Yes, that’s right,” Curt said, leaning a hip against the counter as he unwrapped the candy bar. “I’m here to run the Sports Shack for my brother Seth, while he and his family are in Seattle getting a new store set up.”

      “It’s too bad you couldn’t stay at his house.” Miss Landry turned to Jenna. “No offense, dear.”

      “None taken,” Jenna said.

      “I would have,” Curt replied, “but while Seth and his family are gone, they’re remodeling the house to add a bedroom for their new baby girl, and to bump out the kitchen, too. With construction going on, it made more sense to stay here.”

      “Ah, I see,” Miss Landry replied, nodding. “So, what took you away from this lovely burg, in the first place?”

      Miss Landry’s question hit him like a bullet and filled him with dread. Of course, he was going to have to explain things to people. But he couldn’t just blurt out the truth. It wasn’t as if he could say, “Oh, well, yes, I ran around town as a surly teen, creating trouble, crashed my motorcycle while drunk, and left with my tail between my legs and now I’m back ’cause I’m clean after three tries in rehab and I want to start over.”

      He settled for part of the truth. “I’m a musician, and I went to L.A. to play in a band.” The heady lifestyle of L.A. had called to him. Especially after what happened with Dad.

      “Hmm.” Miss Landry’s eyes sparkled. “A musician. I went steady with a musician once. He played piano.” She opened a candy bar. “What do you play, dear?”

      “Guitar.”

      Miss Landry nodded approvingly. “Excellent. An artist. And handsome. And single, I presume?”

      Curt could only nod.

      “Just as I thought—no ring.” Miss Landry slanted a glance at Jenna, who was checking the pies on the counter. “Are you paying attention, Jenna?”

      Curt’s jaw fell. Miss Landry wasn’t wasting any time at trying to get him and Jenna together, was she? He’d have to keep his eye on her. She was sharp and dating wasn’t on his to-do list. Staying on the straight and narrow and proving himself capable was.

      “Why, Miss Landry, are you matchmaking?” Jenna said without missing a beat.

      “Well, maybe just a bit,” Miss Landry said with a sheepish smile. “I don’t want someone as lovely as you to be alone forever.”

      “What makes you think I’m going to be alone forever?” Jenna asked, taking the teapot off the stove.

      Curt’s ears perked up.

      “Well,” Miss Landry said, “if you don’t come up with a more realistic checklist for the man you want, you’re never going to find him.”

      Curt frowned. Jenna had a man checklist?

      “I like to think I can keep my list and still find love eventually,” Jenna said, pouring boiling water into the flowered mug she’d set on the counter.

      Apparently, she did. Huh.

      “We’ll see,” Miss Landry replied with a quirk of her lips.

      Jenna’s comment reminded Curt that with his troubled history, he wasn’t sure any woman with any kind of checklist would be interested in him. No way. The scars of his past ran deep and would be hard—perhaps impossible—to overlook. And with small-town gossip at work, it wouldn’t be long before Jenna knew all about his checkered past—or maybe she already did. His gut clenched at that idea.

      Miss