Heaven Sent and His Hometown Girl. Jillian Hart

understand that completely. Poor Nanna won’t be happy until she thinks I’m taken care of.” The mop smacked against the floor. “She isn’t satisfied when I say I can take care of myself. As if any man will do.”

      Any man. A common, middle-class working man. Matthew knew it wasn’t a fair way to think, but even though Hope Ashton looked kind and casual and goodhearted and even though she was mopping a floor, she was a millionaire’s daughter. She was a renowned photographer. She wasn’t looking for just any man.

      The pipe stuck, and he gave it a hard tug. It split into pieces and tumbled into the sink. “These pipes look as old as the house.”

      “I’m sure they are.” Hope swept past him, leaving a lingering trail of sweet, light perfume. “Grandfather was notoriously frugal. Do you think you can get the water at least running today?”

      “Sure can.” He shook his head at the rot where the pipes had been leaking for some time. Better to concentrate on his work. “This wall is going to have to be replaced. And this set of cupboards.”

      “Nanna is going to be heartbroken. Grandfather made those cabinets for her. They’re custom—”

      “I’m not a bad carpenter. I bet I can match them.” He couldn’t help teasing her, she looked so serious, so concerned. “Have a little faith, Hope.”

      “I’m trying.” She smiled, soft and sweet, and he noticed the way her dark curls caught the light, shimmering like rare silk.

      Heaven help him.

      A bell rang, spinning her toward the front door. Long locks flicked over her shoulder, glimmering with such beauty he couldn’t look away. She hustled from his sight, padding across the damp floor and into the dim recesses of the entry hall.

      He recognized Helen’s voice and then heard only silence. Hope must have taken her out to see Nora in the flower garden. Matthew headed out the back door to grab what he needed from his truck. He’d put in new pipe, valves and a faucet.

      An older lady with a broken leg needed running water. He figured the McKaslin family wouldn’t mind if he was a day late finishing their barn.

      “How are you and Matthew getting along?” Nanna asked after she’d greeted, Helen, her lifetime friend. “Did you notice how wide his shoulders are? I just love a man with broad shoulders.”

      “Then you flirt with him,” Hope teased as she tucked a cushion in the black metal chair for Helen. “Let me fetch some iced tea. I’ll be right back.”

      “She’s hurrying back to him.” Nanna’s loud whisper carried on the sweet breezes.

      “To look at his shoulders,” Helen teased.

      Okay, so his shoulders were broad. Hope hopped up the back steps and she couldn’t help it—her gaze found and traced the strong line of Matthew’s muscled arms, corded as he worked to set the new pipe in the wall.

      “Would you like some iced tea?” She reached into the cupboards for three glasses, determined not to notice his well-honed physique.

      “Sounds good.” He didn’t look up from his work. As if he were afraid to make eye contact with her.

      Why now? Then she noticed the windows were open, and Nanna’s voice lifted on the breeze through the window. He couldn’t have accidentally overheard what they were talking about, right?

      The curtains fluttered with a gust of wind. “Goodness, Hope is so alone. Matthew’s mom and I thought since they were both so lonely, we’d try to toss them together—”

      The curtain snapped closed, cutting off the rest of Nanna’s words.

      A cold feeling gripped Hope’s stomach. She felt her heart stop as she met Matthew’s gaze.

      “I guess that’s as close to a confession as we’re going to get.” He stretched a kink in his neck, flexing the muscles in his left shoulder and arm. “Our own families are working against us.”

      “Nanna just promised to stop—” Hope’s knees felt weak. “No, she didn’t exactly say that. She sort of skirted the issue and changed the subject. You heard her. She doesn’t sound one bit sorry.”

      “It sure didn’t sound that way.”

      Hope set the pitcher on the counter. She remembered how he’d looked in the coffee shop, lost and sad and brokenhearted. “I’m sorry, Matthew. This must be painful for you.”

      “I’m used to it.” His words were as warm as spring rain. “This is what I’ve been up against ever since the boys wanted a mother for their third birthday. My mom has been on a nonstop campaign to find me a wife, and now she’s involving her friends in the search.”

      “Like any woman will do, right?” It hurt to see the shadows in his eyes, so deep hazel and mingled with pain. She didn’t know what to say. How to comfort him.

      He laid a packaged faucet, shiny knobs wrapped in plastic, on the counter. “It sounds to me like these women are pretty determined. Just how do you think we can stop them?”

      “It’s going to be a long awkward summer unless we find a way.”

      Matthew rubbed the heel of his hand against his brow. He looked tired. He looked as if a world of burden rested on those wide shoulders. Her heart ached for him.

      She poured iced tea into the three tumblers, and then inspiration gripped her. “I know! Proverbs. ‘If you set a trap for others, you will get caught in it yourself.’”

      “You mean…”

      “Have you noticed how your mother and my grandmother have all this time on their hands? Notice how they both live alone.”

      “I noticed.” Light began to twinkle in Matthew’s eyes.

      “Poor lonely widows. With no one to take care of them.” Hope tugged the curtain aside and caught sight of Nanna in the garden shaded by the tall maple. “Nanna mentioned a certain older gentleman she thought was very attractive. Maybe there’s someone your mother might like….”

      “Hope, you’re a genius.” Matthew laughed, relief chasing away the shadows in his eyes and the furrows from his brow. “We turn the tables on them. And why not?”

      “That’s right. Why not?” She topped off the last tumbler and handed it to Matthew. “Your mother and my grandmother had no qualms about torturing us.”

      “That’s right. We find the two of them husbands, and they’ll be so happy they’ll forget all about us.” Matthew leaned against the counter and sipped his tea. “It’s not deceptive. After all, we’re bid to let love be our highest goal….”

      “Like Nanna said, it’s not good to be alone.” Hope felt the sunlight on her face, warm and sustaining. She knew Nanna wasn’t alone, not truly, but she also remembered how years had slipped from Nanna’s face at the thought of Matthew’s handsome grandfather-in-law.

      Nanna had spent too many years in this empty house watching for the mailman to slip letters into her box or waiting for the phone to ring. That was about to change. Hope could feel it down deep in her soul.

      Maybe that’s why the Lord had brought Matthew to her in the middle of that dangerous storm. And why Matthew stood here now.

      If God kept watch over the smallest sparrow, then surely He cared about the loneliness in an old woman’s heart.

      Chapter Four

      The new morning’s sun had already burned the dew off the ground as Hope made her way through the neighbor’s fields. Dark green, knee-high alfalfa swayed in the warm breezes and brushed her knees as she spotted the Joneses’ barn and the man kneeling on its steep peak, tacking down new gray shingles with a nail gun.

      She only had to look at him for her heart to flip in her