Mended Hearts. Ruth Logan Herne

the leather seat, considering the current circumstances. His brain refused to work without sleep. He’d catch a few hours, then jump into the specs for a new Homeland Security bid that included the mobile surveillance units his team designed. The forthcoming eight-figure contract would push Walker Electronics another notch up the ladder of military supply companies, and that meant more workers, more production, more jobs and a stronger local economy.

      But it stunk big time that his good-for-nothing brother got invited to dinner, because with the library meeting tomorrow, Jeff would be lucky to have time to scarf down a deli sandwich on the run.

      Sometimes life just wasn’t fair.

       Chapter Four

      “Jeff? May I see you a minute?”

      The sound of Grandma’s voice drew Jeff’s attention in the library parking lot the next evening. He smiled and crossed the lot, surprised but pleased. “You’re here. I thought you were attending that dinner for the Veteran’s Outreach tonight.”

      Helen tipped a thoughtful look his way. “I decided it was more important to see you.”

      Her words puzzled him. “Except … we saw each other off and on all day.”

      “But not about personal things.”

      True enough.

      He and Grandma didn’t discuss family things on the job. And the only family things of note that had happened recently were Meredith’s job loss and Matt’s return. Since Meredith was avidly looking for a place to open a salon of her own, Grandma’s visit could have only been spurred by one thing: Matt Cavanaugh.

      Wonderful.

      Jeff angled his head, silent. Waiting.

      Grandma took his arm and headed toward the library. “Everyone deserves a second chance, don’t they?”

      He nodded. Shrugged. “Sure. It’s the seventh, eighth and ninth that concern me, Grandma. Did he ask you for money?”

      She paused and offered him a sharp, shrewd look. “First, it wouldn’t be your concern if he did. I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions and you need to respect that. Second …” Her frown deepened and she gave him a quick, appraising glance that said she was deliberately holding back. “You’ll need to settle this thing in your head if Matt’s moving back to town.”

      “He’s not, is he?” Jeff read her expression and swallowed what he wanted to say. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

      “He’s looking for work.”

      “We didn’t offer him a job, did we?”

      Helen puffed an impatient breath. “What work does Walker Electronics have for a home builder? No, he’s quite self-sufficient, but I suspect he’ll be around awhile.”

      “Plenty of cause for concern right there.”

      Helen’s look sharpened. “Matt’s not the one I’m worried about.”

      Her words stung, just like his mother’s the night before.

      They weren’t bothered by Matt’s sudden reappearance? Then it was a good thing Jeff had enough concern for both of them. He shrugged off her comment, hid the hurt and angled toward the tiny library, which was in need of refurbishing. “I’m fine. You know that.”

      “Yes.” She paused again, hesitant but straightforward. “And no.”

      “Yes,” he countered firmly. “And this isn’t a topic of conversation we can pursue right now.” He straightened as a volunteer’s car angled into the small lot. Fat raindrops began to pelt them. “I’ve got a job to do.”

      Helen stepped back, nodded and opened her umbrella. “You do. And that’s the reverend so I’ll just walk over there and say hi before we get started.” She gave Jeff’s arm a light squeeze before she headed toward Reverend Hannity’s car, as if her touch would soothe the prick of her words.

      She was worried about him.

      Not Matt.

      The incredulity of that cut deep. Right now he needed to get inside, compare notes and goals with Hannah, dust off his bruised ego and get to work fulfilling Grandpa’s dream, a well-set library system throughout Allegany County. And he needed to do it with the polished veneer of a leader, ready to forge ahead, when what he wanted to do was …

      His hands clenched. His thoughts jumbled and frustration climbed his spine, settling in somewhere along the back of his neck.

      He had no idea, so he buried the angst as best he could and headed through the door, a part of him wishing Grandma had gone to the veteran’s dinner as planned.

      “Are we ready?”

      Hannah gave her heart a chance to come under control at the sound of Jeff’s voice. His kindness the previous night was a delightful new memory that had managed to interrupt her sleep. But tonight he sounded gruff, and Hannah was savvy enough to know that any guy could appear nice for an hour or two. Maybe Jeff had exhausted his limit the previous night.

      She turned, tamping her reaction. From the dozens of wet splotches on his clothes, the promised showers had come to fruition. “You’re wet.”

      “Rain does that.” He peeled off an expensive-looking trench, then swept the room a glance. “I’d forgotten how small this place is because I use the Wellsville branch.”

      “And that’s exquisite,” Hannah acknowledged. The Howe Library was a shining star in the economically roughed-up town.

      “We’ve really got our work cut out for us.”

      Did he realize his slight derision reflected her work for the past three years? She offered the tiny library a quick perusal. “It may be small, but it does the job.”

      “If it did, we wouldn’t be here, Hannah.”

      “Ouch.”

      He huffed a breath, ran a hand across the nape of his neck, then shrugged. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded, I just …” He stopped, glanced toward the exit and held up his jacket, pretending to head for the door. “Can we have a do-over? Please?”

      No, they could not. “Unnecessary.” She flashed him a cool, crisp smile. “Folders are on the table.”

      The door opened. Several committee members streamed in, lamenting the rain in mixed voices.

      Jeff turned to greet them, his manner inviting, more like the guy she’d shared food with last night.

       Just because he wears a suit, doesn’t mean he’s cut from Brian’s cloth.

      But he’d walked in here pretty tense and frustrated, and Hannah didn’t do uptight or overwrought. Or driven, for that matter. Not anymore.

      Jeff’s attention veered left as another voice joined the group. Hannah watched as Helen Walker greeted people much like her grandson, offering a warm smile and a firm handshake. And having met Helen back when she interviewed for the librarian position and the other day, Hannah wasn’t blind to the older woman’s work-first focus and drive. But Helen’s didn’t bother her.

      Jeff’s did.

       Because you’re constantly comparing him to Brian. Move on. Forge ahead. There is nothing wrong with focus. Got that?

      Hannah grasped Helen’s hand. “Mrs. Walker, hello.”

      “Helen, please.” Helen’s grip offered warm assurance, the perfect handshake. “And as cute as this is, Hannah—” Helen let her gaze wander the children’s corner, the faded carousel of computer stations and the narrow rows between labeled bookcases “—it’s time we did better. You understand that, right? And how essential your input is to the success of the final product we hope to achieve.”