A Love to Call Her Own Read Online Free PDF Page A

her next-door neighbor called her name.
    â€œHey, Luce! You’re taking food to someone who isn’t me?”
    Joe Cadore sat on his deck, feet propped on the railing, a fitness magazine in his lap and a bottle of water in his hand. His blond hair needed a trim—always—and his jaw looked as if he’d forgotten to shave that morning, turning his usual boy-next-door good looks into breath-catching isn’t he hot? sex appeal. Luckily, she was immune to it. With an appetite befitting a physically active guy, no kitchen skills, and no wife or significant other, he had a great appreciation for the goodies that came from her kitchen, thus the basis of their friendship.
    Reversing direction, she moved a few feet closer to him. “I’m taking it to Patricia’s. Did you hear? Her husband—” Her voice wobbled, and she took a breath.
    Bless his heart, Joe didn’t need to hear more to understand. Concern furrowed his forehead, and he dropped his feet with a thud, rising from his chair. “Oh, man. I’m so sorry. George was a good guy.” After a moment, his voice softer, he asked, “You okay?”
    His concern was sweet and eased the tightness around her heart just a little. “Yeah. Just…a lot of memories.”
    â€œDo you want me to come along?”
    The constriction eased a bit more. What kind of guy volunteered to wade into a situation that was sure to involve an overload of women, emotion, tears, and grief? Then she answered her own question: a good friend. She’d been blessed with so many of them. She hoped Patricia had a bunch, too, because she was going to need them in the months ahead.
    â€œI appreciate the offer, but…let me see how she’s doing first.” She started across the yard again, then glanced back. “By the way, there are two more loaves of bread on my kitchen counter for you if Norton doesn’t get to them first.” Joe had a key to her house so he could do favors like letting the dog out if she ran late, and she had one to his house so she could…Well, just because. He didn’t have any pets, not even any plants, and had never asked her to do anything for him.
    â€œI’ll share a piece with him.” His broad grin was dazzling. “I knew you loved me. Thanks, Luce.”
    She crossed the grass into Patricia’s backyard, then circled the house. Under normal circumstances, she would have gone to the back door and knocked, holding up her goodies to entice Patricia into letting her in. There wouldn’t be any normal circumstances for her friend for a long while.
    The only cars in the driveway were a government vehicle and a small red one she wasn’t familiar with. Though there were other CNOs—casualty notification officers—Lucy hoped Patricia had gotten Loretta Baxter. LoLo was so very good at her job.
    Lucy climbed the steps to the gracious porch with its wicker furniture and potted flowers that contrasted perfectly against the red and white stripes of the American flag rippling in the breeze. Thinking she should do something with her own porch, she turned back to the door when it opened and blinked in surprise. “Jessy! I didn’t know you knew Patricia.”
    â€œI don’t. I didn’t. I do now.” Jessy grabbed her arm and pulled her inside, closed the door, and swept her down the hall to the kitchen, where she put the bread and cream cheese on the counter. Of all their margarita sisters, Lucy would have thought Jessy the least likely to comfort in a tragedy. Not that Jessy wasn’t sympathetic and generous. It was just that she doled those things out in her own way, which was usually brash and blunt.
    In a few terse sentences, Jessy explained how she’d wound up at the Sanderson house. “Damn, can you believe it?” she muttered.
    â€œOf course I can. It proves what I have always suspected of you. You may be snarky and flippant on the outside,