What the Heart Knows: A Milford-Haven Novel - Book One Read Online Free PDF

out from under the blanket and didn’t notice its long-forgotten coffee stains. He focused for a moment on the clock’s digital display. The last digit no longer illumnated, so it was always a guess. He hoped it was still within a minute or two of 7 a.m.
    Jack headed down the hall, his bare feet leaving an occasional imprint in the dusty floor. An hour-and-a-half from now, he’d be in his office and the irritating phone calls would start: from contractors trying to pick his brains; from prospects who said other contractors could outbid him; from incompetent workers with idiotic questions; from inspectorswith nasty notices. But at least his
home
phone wouldn’t ring, and he wouldn’t turn on his cell till later. Plus—today held the promise of a new client.
    He reached the bathroom and scowled at himself in the mirror. The fierce blue eyes were still clear. The hair had gone salt-and-pepper, the face a little jowly. Chest and arms remained firm, thanks to the fact he spent about as much time on his job sites as behind his desk. Jack’s gaze trailed down the rest of his six-foot frame—solidly packed with muscle, but with a little too much gut.
Not bad for over fifty. Besides, only one thing really matters. Everything still functions
.
    Just then, his home phone did begin to ring.
Damn! Who the hell would be calling me now
? A sudden fit of coughing seized him, loud enough that he missed the next two rings of his phone, and on the fourth one his answering machine picked up.
    “This is Jack Sawyer. I’m out. Leave a message if you expect me to call you back.”
He paid no attention to his own gravelly voice on the outgoing message. But after the beep, when an authoritative female voice began speaking, Jack started coughing again.
    “Jack, this is Sam calling.”
As if he didn’t know.
“I’ll leave a message at your office, but in case you don’t go there this morning, you should know you’ll be facing an injunction. Have a nice day.”

    Kevin Ransom loved the mornings better than any other time of day. In autumn, it was still dark and chilly when he got up. He never knew whether the sky would look pink or orange or lavender, so it was always a surprise. He liked that best of all.
    The view from Kevin’s porch raced down a steep incline through a stand of tall California pines. The smallness of the house was made up for by the size of the trees, which stood on protected land, so they’d never be cut down. The first rays of light penetrated the upper branches like the strobe lights of a
National Geographic
photographer.
Guess the storm last night cleared out all the clouds
.
    The squirrel who occupied the back yard stepped onto the railing of the deck and walked gingerly toward Kevin, chattering for his morning nut. Today it would be a cashew, and Kevin couldn’t decide whether his squirrel was demanding an early Halloween treat, or stocking up for winter.
    Kevin only had a few minutes before he had to leave for work. He liked to get there before Mr. Sawyer and make sure the coffee was made. It sometimes seemed to make Mr. Sawyer’s mood a little better.
    “Hey, little fella.” He spoke quietly so as not to scare the squirrel off. “Want another one?” he asked. He wondered why it was always so much easier to talk to animals than it was to talk to people.

    Sally O’Mally unlocked the back door of her restaurant and flipped on the kitchen lights, illuminating the gleaming steel sinks, pristine countertops, and the rows of shiny pans that hung from a large overhead rack. She caught the room’s faint odor of fresh lemons that lingered after last night’s cleaning. Though she’d been tired when she woke up this morning, she felt a spark of energy at seeing her workspace spotless and ready for a new day.
    Mama trained me well. Still, I never do get up as early as she does
. She pictured her mother in Arkansas, still living on the farm, still knitting, and still baking up a storm—biscuits, breads, and her