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“I want to know about this New York project you’re working on.”
“Of course. Any time.” Abby turned, saw him. “Hello, Donovan,” she said, her voice as cool as an Arctic breeze.
“Hi, Abby.” His throat felt swollen, like a school boy’s. He drew Ariane forward to hide his sudden attack of nerves. “I want you to meet someone. Ariane, this is Abby.”
He’d been going to say, “my friend,” but dropped it at the last second.
“We’ve already met. Ariane stopped by a little earlier to check out my beads. Hello.” Abby stretched out her hand and gently shook Ariane’s. “Next time when you come we’ll make something really pretty. Okay?”
The little girl regarded Abby solemnly for several moments before nodding.
“You’re always welcome,” Abby told her with a smile, though it was clear she wondered why Ariane didn’t speak.
Brady and Brett came rushing up to invite Ariane to taste the punch. After a quick silent check with Donovan, Ariane followed, at a much slower pace.
“I hope she didn’t get in your way, Abby.”
“Of course not. She was just curious.”
“I should have told you this before but—” There was no easy way to say it. “Ariane doesn’t speak. She hasn’t since she witnessed her father’s accident. He was water skiing and another boat hit him. The doctors say it will take time before she feels able to talk again.”
“Oh, the poor thing.” Compassion glittered in Abby’s pretty eyes. “I wish there was something I could do to help her.”
Donovan frowned. A five-year-old conversation returned.
Abby detests kids. She puts on a good front, but she’s not interested in the things other girls are, like family. She’s totally focused on her future.
Could she have changed that much?
“We checked out her school this afternoon. She’s to start Monday morning.”
“I’m sure she’ll fit in beautifully.” Abby’s cool look was back. “You’ll do fine, Donovan. Excuse me. I want to speak to Sara.”
“Sure.”
Abby hurried toward his sister. The two shared a laugh before Cade offered them each a glass of the cranberry punch Winifred adored. Donovan felt as if Abby deliberately avoided looking at him when she turned to speak to Olivia.
“You’re frowning, Donovan. Is something wrong?” Winifred studied him with the same eagle eye she used to employ when he was a toddler in her Sunday school class. Her glance tracked to Abby.
“Nothing’s wrong.” One look told him she wasn’t satisfied with that response. “It’s just a bit awkward with Abby.”
“Bound to be, I imagine. You asked the girl to marry you, after all.” Winifred gave him a dark look. “Then you welshed on the deal. Still, you’re both adults now, pursuing your own careers. I’m sure you can get past it. Can’t you?”
The real question was, would he let the past influence the future?
“She seems so different.”
“Five years changes everyone. Including you. Now come over here. I want you to meet someone.” Her voice softened. “This is Art Woodward. He’s your grandfather’s stepbrother.”
“I didn’t know he had one. Nice to meet you, Art.” Donovan shook the older man’s hand and noticed how quickly the man’s other palm encircled Winifred’s waist.
“Neither did we know until recently. But we’re so glad Art’s here. He owns part of the local television station. He’s just come back from buying another in Tucson,” Winifred said.
“Well, that may come in handy for my publicity campaign,” Donovan teased. But his brain filed the look on his grandmother’s face, the way Art smiled at her, the sense of togetherness the two projected.
“Let me know what you need, Donovan, and I’ll aim to provide it,” Art told him. “But not tonight. This is a party and I want the first dance with this beautiful lady.”
Art and Winifred walked to the dance floor and slid into each other’s arms as if they’d been a couple for years. As they glided around the room, Donovan couldn’t help but admit they looked good together.
“What do you think of him?” Reese asked quietly.
“I don’t know what to think. Is he always that…friendly with Grandmother?”
“Pretty much. They’ve seen a lot of each other ever since he arrived and more so since she had her operation. She seems to adore him.”
“Who’d have thought?” Donovan looked for and found Ariane. She stood in a corner, sipping punch, her attention on Abby who was smiling and gesturing as she talked.
“Made your amends there yet?” Reese asked.
“I apologized. Abby said it didn’t matter, that she’d moved on.”
“You believe it?”
“I don’t know what to think. She’s changed a lot. More focused. Harder.” Donovan shrugged. “Not that it matters. I don’t have time for anything but my work here and Ariane.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Reese held up a hand. “I don’t need an answer. But if you want to talk, I’m available. It’s good to have you back, little brother.”
“Thanks, Reese. I hope I can share some of the burden for this place.”
“Just don’t make the same mistake I did in thinking work is the panacea for pain.” Reese clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Take it from me, it isn’t. Think I’ll go dance with my wife.”
“You do that. Olivia’s a beautiful woman. You’re a lucky man.”
Reese shook his head.
“Not lucky,” he said firmly. “Blessed.”
Donovan watched him nudge Olivia, then murmur something in her ear. She smiled and inclined her head toward the twins who were staring at the welcome-back cake that sat on a stand at the front of the room. Reese looked as if he’d go and get them, but Olivia shook her head and lifted her hand to his shoulder. They stepped onto the floor with the comfort of two people who understood each other.
Winifred, with Art in tow, touched Donovan’s shoulder, drawing his attention to his parents. He watched his laughing mother tease his grimacing father, who was not following her lead on the dance floor.
“Everyone seems to have a partner but you,” Winifred murmured. “Why don’t you ask Abby to dance?”
“She doesn’t dance,” he said, and then wondered if that was still true. So many things he’d thought he knew for certain had changed. Abby dancing was probably the least of them.
“Even if that’s so, it would still be nice to ask her.”
“It would be a little awkward, don’t you think, Grandmother? Dating isn’t in my future and I’m pretty sure Abby’s focused on her contest.”
“You don’t have to date her,” Winifred sniffed. “But it might be nice if you two could get rid of the barriers.”
“We’ve done that already.” Because he was watching Winifred so closely, Donovan saw the slight rose flush that colored her delicately powdered cheeks. “Don’t matchmake, Grandmother. Whatever was between Abby and me in high school died five years ago.”
“I wouldn’t dream of matchmaking,” Winifred sniffed. “I know you’re trying to be responsible. I know you’re working hard to be a good father to Ariane and I applaud you. But being a father can’t and shouldn’t become your whole life. Reese can tell you about that.” Winifred asked Art for some punch, then threaded her arm through Donovan’s and drew him toward a table where he helped her sit.
“Are you all right?” he asked, worried by her pale color.
“I’m fine. Listen to me. Abby’s become as precious to me as if she was my own granddaughter. I want her to achieve all of her dreams. I believe she has the capacity to reach great heights.”
“So do I,” he agreed.
“I don’t want her to feel awkward about working here just because you’re back, Donovan.”
“I don’t think Abby’s that easily upset,” he murmured, watching as she danced with the twins, laughing at their antics. So she did dance.
Abby detests kids. It hadn’t rung true then and it didn’t now. Her eyes sparkled with fun, her smile spread across her face.
“Abby hides her feelings. She’s had to. Talk to God, Donovan. Find out how he wants you to respond to Abby.”
Having said her piece, Winifred signaled Katie who asked everyone to have a seat. Donovan beckoned Ariane to sit beside him as the others all found places. Art sat next to Winifred.
When the room was silent again, Katie took the microphone.
“Welcome to our welcome-back party,” she said, grinning. “It is our greatest pleasure to have Grandmother with us tonight and my special pleasure to tell you that come Monday morning, she expects to be seated behind her desk, making sure we’re all hard at work.”
The room erupted in cheering. Katie waited until there was relative silence.
“Dad?”
Thomas Woodward rose, lifted his glass.
“I’d like to propose a toast to my mother. May she be behind that desk for years to come. Welcome back, Winifred.”
“To Winifred.”
Donovan tinkled his glass against Ariane’s and waited for her to taste the apple cider. She wrinkled her nose after a sip, but gamely gave it another try. Katie turned to him.
“My brother Donovan has at long last returned from Europe to head up our own in-house marketing department. We’re glad he’s back and thrilled he brought his goddaughter Ariane with him. Welcome home, Donovan and Ariane.”
Slightly embarrassed, Donovan rose, bowed and promised he’d do his best for Weddings by Woodwards while Ariane stared at everyone with her huge dark eyes. Finally, Fiona rose to say a blessing over the food. When Donovan looked up, Abby had slipped into the seat across from them.
“There wasn’t anywhere else,” she apologized in a whisper.
“No problem.”
“I saw Winifred talking to you earlier. Is she all right?”
“She’s fine.” He waited until their salads had been served. “Ariane’s been admiring you.”
“Oh.” Abby blinked, then glanced at his goddaughter. “Why?”
“I think it’s your earrings. She loves all that sparkles. Your design?”
Abby nodded.
“They’re lovely.”
“Thanks.” She averted her eyes and concentrated on eating.
“Abby makes lots of jewelry, Ari. She’s a quite-famous jewelry designer.”
“Not yet, but soon, hopefully.” Abby smiled at Ariane who seemed intrigued by the bracelet Donovan had given Abby. “Do you like jewelry, Ariane?”
The little girl nodded eagerly and after signaling that she needed a pen from Donovan, she drew an altered picture of the bracelet she’d helped Olivia form.
“Ah, I see you’ve had a change of idea. That’s what we designers do.” Abby smiled at her. “The bracelet’s in my office, waiting for you.”
Ariane seemed happy to hear that and settled down to dinner, like everyone else. Donovan couldn’t reconcile the easy camaraderie she and Abby shared, with what he’d been told. As the meal drew to a finish, his suspicions about that conversation multiplied, but Donovan stuffed them away and focused on enjoying the evening.
Reese took his turn as MC. Sara sang a song about homecomings and Cade announced their pregnancy. Once congratulations had died down, Katie had her parents act out a charade about the Chicago store.
Donovan took it all in like a bystander and realized that his sisters, his brother, Grandmother, his parents were all genuinely enjoying life, friends and family. Only he felt as if he had to work to smile. Even though Ariane was beside him and Abby across from him, even though the room was full of his family, he suddenly felt lonely. In that moment, he realized something else.
Abby wasn’t the only one with a pressing goal.
He wanted to be an integral part of his family’s lives now. He wanted to be the one they turned to when they needed to talk things over, the one they called on when they needed a shoulder to lean on. He wanted to be the son they counted on.
The prospect both terrified and tantalized Donovan. He’d never been good with long-term anything, especially commitment, although he’d wanted to try with Abby. A few hours talking to God might help him figure out how to become more than the carefree role he’d always defined for himself.
Maybe then Abby wouldn’t look at him with that funny little smile that clearly said she felt sorry for him for having missed so much.
Chapter Four
Monday mornings were always hectic.
Today leaned more toward crazy.
Anticipating the furor, Abby had arrived early. She filed her approved sketch for a newly commissioned diamond engagement ring, made changes another customer had requested on an anniversary ring and released the delicate tiara she’d created for a local fashion show.
Then she allowed herself a coffee break and a few moments to study the ring she wanted to send in for her contest entry. It was almost ready. A tweak or two and—
A child’s wail erupted from the front of the store. Assuming it was Brett or Brady, both of whom knew exactly how to create disaster at Weddings by Woodwards, Abby hurried toward the sound. She found Donovan kneeling in front of Ariane, his face taut with worry.
“It’s okay, Ari. Just tell me what’s wrong? Are you sick?”
One negative head jerk.
“Is it your clothes? But this is the school’s uniform.”
