Her Sister (Search For Love series) Read Online Free PDF Page B

flying to Texas would do us any good—"
    "You've
got to let the authorities handle this."
    "Like
they did before?  Maybe I could get those records unsealed faster.  I'm the expert in juvenile law."
    "Maybe
Grove doesn't need an expert.  Maybe he just needs a little time."
    "Time? 
We've waited twenty-seven years!"
    Her
ex-husband's voice was sharp.  At one time his tone would have hurt her.  Now
it didn't.
    They
stared at each other—long, hard moments as they remembered other words...other
times.
    "I
shouldn't have come.  I thought it would do us both some good, but I was
wrong."  He strode to the door.
    "Max."
    With
his hand on the knob he turned to her.  "What?"
    "Why
can't we just be people together?  Why can't we just be parents together?"
    "Because
we still blame each other for losing Lynnie."
    Before
she could say, "But I don't blame you anymore," he was gone. 
Just like that.
    Arranging
the spices in alphabetical order just didn't have the allure it had fifteen
minutes before.
    Trying
to ignore the mess, she went to the refrigerator, took out the carton of orange
juice, found a stray glass on the counter and poured.  Max had always stirred
up more emotion than she ever wanted to feel.
    Crossing
to her living room, a feminine haven of cream roses, fern-green drapes, a pale
pink and white Aubusson rug, she headed straight for the mahogany end table and
opened the drawer.  She removed a round tin with the picture of a saddle on the
lid.  Opening it, she took a whiff of the candle inside.  Leather.  Actually,
it was more than the smell of leather.  Mingled with it was a scent like old
wood.
    She'd
found the candle on a buying trip last winter.  It had been tucked into the
corner of a hutch in a little shop that had sold secondhand items.  As soon as
she'd uncapped it, the scent had taken her back to a time and place where
happiness was still a butterfly that could land on her shoulder.
    Sinking
down onto the sofa she took another whiff, and there she was, eighteen, helping
her dad with the summer crop of tobacco.  She'd lived on a farm in Pine Hill
with her parents.  Her dad had raised tobacco for many years, along with corn
and hay.  He'd also raised turkeys, and every Christmas opened his fields for
anyone who needed a Christmas tree.  Farming had been tough even back then.
    The
summer after her senior year in high school she'd been helping her mom make
sticky buns when Max had come into the kitchen with her father.  She'd
recognized him, of course.  They'd taken an advanced geometry class together. 
Physics, too.  There were lots of stories buzzing about Max, but she didn't
know which ones were true and which weren't.  She'd heard his mother had died
in childbirth.  She'd heard his mother had left when he was just a little boy. 
She'd heard his dad drank a lot and couldn't hold a job.  That day she hadn't
cared what she'd heard.
    When
her gaze locked to his, the sensation she experienced was as if the hot, gooey
syrup from the sticky buns was running through her, making her feel all melty
and weak.
    Her
father, a short balding man who was getting heftier each year, gave his wife
and daughter a grin.  "Just wanted to introduce you to my new help.  Max
Thaddeus, meet my wife, Mrs. Fogelsmith and my daughter, Amanda.  Do you two
know each other from school?"
    "Yes,
sir," Max answered without hesitation.  "Amanda and I had a couple of
classes together."
    "Well,
good, because you two will be working side by side some of the summer.  Amanda
helps with everything around here, including spearing the tobacco leaves on the
laths.  I don't let her have anything to do with hanging them up to dry, but
she works beside me whenever she can."
    Amanda
felt like an idiot, standing there staring at Max, as if she didn't have a brain
in her head.  "Are you going to be working here today?" she asked,
then realized maybe she shouldn't have.  Maybe she shouldn't have sounded as if
she'd be glad if he