Love on a Spring Morning Read Online Free PDF Page A

it.
    “Let Beth be the boss, okay? She calls the shots on feeding.”
    Finn nodded as he rubbed his knuckles along his jaw. “We’ve taken these classes, but yeah, there’s so much I don’t know.”
    “You’ll figure it out. Shit has a way of working itself out.” Even as he said it, Ryan knew the reminder was true for himself as much as his brother. “Yeah, shut up. I know.”
    Finn bumped his shoulder as he stepped toward the door. “Good. Let’s have another beer.”
    That conversation with his brother rolled around in Ryan’s head for the rest of their visit.
    The next night, once his kids were in bed, he powered up the computer and sent an email to the Bereaved Spouses group coordinator.
    Then he went to the kitchen cupboard and poured himself a finger of scotch.

    — —

    Holly tossed her script across the empty living room. Emmett had gone up to his room to call his partner. She could text him and ask him to come down and run lines with her, and he would. But that would just be torturing them both, because she knew her scenes for the next day inside out—this nervous energy was about something else. The subtle strain of unspoken discord on the set, maybe. Everyone could feel it, but the source hadn’t yet made itself known. They were still in the early days of pleasantries and negotiating alliances.
    The politics of a film set were something Holly would happily never experience again…except that would mean not acting. And despite the drama, she loved nothing more than sliding into the skin of another person and bringing a role to life.
    Just thinking about being Kathleen made her legs tingle. She’d spent weeks in the wheelchair in L.A., working with a paraplegic choreographer to really nail what she could feel and do and what she couldn’t.
    She’d already worked out tonight before dinner. But all last week, as they’d driven away from the cottage before dawn and returned after dark, she’d thought the slightly inclined lane up to the highway would be perfect for hill repeats. She hadn’t had the energy to actually do that, instead letting the elliptical drag her through her hour of mandatory calorie burn each night.
    Tonight would be her last chance for the week, because she knew herself—hill repeats weren’t going to happen after a fourteen-hour day of filming.
    She grabbed her shoes.
    The first climb she kept her speed under control, but after walking back down, she let herself sprint hard on the second go. This wasn’t a workout, she didn’t have a trainer watching and judging, and it didn’t matter if she kept any energy in reserve.
    And it felt good to pound against the gravel, pump her arms hard to drive herself faster, and hit that point where everything burned from the inside out. She’d been wound tight all week, waiting for something to crack on set—and now after a single day off, which was hardly enough of a break, they’d do it all over again. Long days of work, trying to make the vision of a crazy man happen.
    At least, she assumed James Spencer was crazy. Her shoulders hunched together and she forced them to relax. The movie director was known for being difficult, but he created art. She needed to focus on that promised end result.
    The house at the top of the lane was lit up again, after two nights of darkness. The Viking family had returned from wherever they went. She glanced through the kitchen window, but nobody was in there—the lights upstairs probably meant the kids were going to bed.
    What would it be like to be tucked in? Have someone draw you a bath and read you a story?
    Maggie must have done that for her when Holly was really little. But her earliest memories were of already being self-sufficient at ages five and six. Babysitters and roommates had been just as responsible for overseeing little Holly’s teeth brushing and face washing as much as the pretty young model who didn’t want to be a mother because being a party girl was so much more fun.
    She