Ami Weaver

An Accidental Family


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all fixed up, Ms. Keeler. Can’t say how long it’ll last. Could be one month. Could be six. I’m sorry I don’t have better news.”

      “The fact it’s running right now is wonderful,” Lainey said. “Thank you. I appreciate you coming on such short notice.”

      “Anytime. Have a good day, ladies.” He left the store and the bell above the door chimed, its cheerful sound mocking Lainey’s mood. She looked at the amount on the invoice and sighed.

      She’d known when she bought the shop nine months ago there were no guarantees on equipment. Even in her current financial bind she didn’t regret taking the plunge. This shop felt right to her in a way none of her other jobs ever had. Right enough, in fact, that she hoped to someday buy the building outright.

      Working steadily throughout the morning, they completed their orders. The repair seemed to be holding for now, thank goodness. Lainey slid the last of the arrangements into the back of the van and closed the door. “All set, Beth. Hopefully we’ll get more this afternoon.”

      “Fingers crossed.” Beth climbed in and turned the ignition. She leaned back out the window. “I’ll stop at Dottie’s Deli and grab lunch on the way back. I think we’ve each earned a cheesecake muffin after this morning.”

      “Mmm.” Lainey perked up at the thought. Everyone knew the calories in Dottie’s heavenly muffins didn’t count. “Sounds wonderful. Thanks.”

      She held her breath as Beth thunked the old van into gear and drove off. Relief washed over her. After this morning she’d half expected the thing to go belly-up out of spite.

      “Don’t borrow trouble,” she reminded herself as she turned and went inside.

      The chime of the door caught her attention and she hurried to greet the customer.

      Fifteen minutes later she started on a new arrangement, this one for a new mom and baby at the hospital. They really needed more of this kind of business—more happy occasions like …

      Babies.

      Pregnant.

      Lainey gulped and gripped the edge of the worktable, her eyes on the array of delicate pastel flowers she’d gathered. She only had about seven months to stabilize her shop and get ready to be a new mom herself. A single new mom.

      Seven months.

      No one could ever accuse her of doing things the easy way.

      Ben Lawless pulled into the driveway of his grandmother’s old farmhouse and stared. Same white paint, black shutters. The wide porch was missing its swing, but two rockers sat in its place. The two huge maples in the front yard had dropped most of their leaves. Funny, he’d been gone for so many years but this old house still felt like home.

      He frowned at the strange car parked behind his grandmother’s trusty Buick. Last thing he wanted was to talk to anyone other than his grandma, to deal with friendliness and well-meaning questions. Acting normal was exhausting.

      He pushed open the truck door, stepped out and scanned the layout of the front yard. Plenty of room for a ramp, though some of the porch railing would have to be removed, and it would block one of the flowerbeds lining the house’s foundation. He kicked at the leaves littering the cracked walkway. The uneven concrete posed a hazard even to an able-bodied person. Why couldn’t Grandma admit she needed help?

       Why did you assume she didn’t need it?

      His self-recrimination didn’t get any farther as the front door opened and framed his beaming grandmother in her wheelchair. He tried not to wince at the sight. She’d always been so tough, strong and able, and now she looked so small. He moved up the walk and the stairs to the porch.

      “Grandma.” He bent down to give her an awkward hug in the chair, afraid to hold on too tight. “How are you?”

      She hugged him back firmly and patted his face. “I’m good. Making the best of this, I hope.” She studied his face for a moment, her clear blue eyes seeing too much. “I’m so glad you’re here. Not sleeping well?”

      He straightened, not surprised by the observation. “Good enough.”

      She gave him a look, but dropped the subject and rolled back into the house. “Where are my manners? Come in, come in. I want you to meet a very good friend of mine.”

      Ben braced himself as he followed her across the familiar living room to the kitchen. Hopefully this friend wasn’t one of the mainstays of Holden’s Crossing’s gossip mill. Last thing he needed was word getting out and people asking him questions or making accusations. He stopped dead when he looked into the cool blue gaze of the gorgeous—and young—blond at the kitchen table.

      “Ben Lawless, meet Lainey Keeler. Lainey, this is my grandson. The one who’s a firefighter in Grand Rapids.” The pride in Rose’s voice made Ben’s stomach twist. “Lainey was a few years behind you in school, Ben.”

      No way. This was his grandmother’s friend? Long dark blond ponytail, a few strands loose around a heart-shaped face. Clear blue eyes, smooth creamy skin. Full breasts a snug pink tee didn’t hide. He gave her a brief nod, forced the proper words out. “Nice to meet you.”

      Her smile curved, but didn’t reach her eyes. “Same here. Rose has told me so much about you.”

      “Did she?” He tensed at her comment, then forced himself to relax. It didn’t mean she actually knew anything. He rested his hand on his grandmother’s thin shoulder. “Grandma, I’m going to bring in my things, okay?”

      Lainey rose. “I’ll walk you out.” She leaned down to plant a kiss on his grandma’s cheek and gave her a hug. “I’ll see you in a couple of days, Rose.”

      “Don’t work too hard, honey,” Grandma said, and Ben nearly laughed. If he remembered correctly, none of the Keelers had to work. They’d been given anything and everything on the proverbial platter.

      Ben caught a whiff of her scent, something floral, as she moved past him. Since he’d gotten boxed in, he followed her out into the cool early October night.

      Once on the porch, she turned to him with a frown. “She’s glad you’re here.”

      “And you’re not.”

      Those big blue eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure. She’s been struggling for months now. Where were you then?”

      Temper flared at the accusation in her tone. He’d felt bad enough once he’d realized how much help his grandma needed. He didn’t need this chick sticking her nose in, too. No matter how hot she was. “She isn’t big on admitting she needs help.” Seemed to run in the family.

      Lainey gave him a look that said he was full of it and stomped off the porch. “She’s in her eighties. How could you not come visit and check on her?”

      Guilt lanced through him. “She always said she was fine, okay? I’m here now.” Why did he care if this woman thought he was a total heel?

      She shrugged. “You still should have checked on her. How far is it up here? She’s so proud of you. But you never bothered to visit.”

      Even in the dim light he saw the sparks in her blue gaze, the anger on his grandmother’s behalf. “I’m here now,” he said, his own temper rising.

      “Till you leave. Then where will she be?” She spun around and strode across the yard.

      God help him, he couldn’t pull his gaze off her tight little tush. She climbed in the little car and slammed the door. The spray of gravel that followed her out to the road said it all.

      Well, great. He’d managed to tick off his grandmother’s hot little friend.

      Ben shook his head and stepped off the porch, walked to his truck to get his bags. He’d done something far worse than that. His best friend was dead, thanks to him, and any problems with Lainey Keeler were not even