AllFreeNovel
Share Us
That wasn’t enough. Despite Bridget’s assurance, Margaret Harrison seemed to believe it was her duty to remind her daughter of her warning every time they met. She was constantly cross-examined as to whether she had seen or talked to Jonas just about every day for the following two weeks. Margaret was invariably skeptical of Bridget’s answers, which was just as upsetting as Jonas’s return to Randolph.
Bridget wasn’t always going to be able to avoid him, but right now it was her mother she wanted to avoid, though. Bridget was dreading another interrogation as her parents’ large white house came into view around the road’s curve. Her own small A-frame was hidden briefly by the thick leaves of the trees. Slowing the car, she saw Molly in the garden with her grandfather and honked the horn, relieved that she wouldn’t have to go to the house to get Molly.
Glancing up, Molly waved and began sprinting to meet her, tawny chestnut hair tied in pigtails flying behind her. Instead of turning into the driveway of the big house, Bridget turned the car into her own. A breathless Molly reached her as she stepped out of the car.
“You’re late,” Molly panted. “What happened?” She answered her own question. “I guess someone came in the shop five minutes before you were going to close.”
“I stopped for groceries.” Bridget took one of the bags from the back seat. “You can help me carry them in.”
“I’m not strong enough.”
“Don’t give me that.”
Molly made a face, but obligingly gathered the bag in her arms.
“What did you do today?” Balancing a second sack, Bridget reached for a third.
“I worked on my quilt blocks. I finished April and May.”
A bunny and a somewhat crooked maypole, respectively. The little girl was proud of every stitch and was turning into quite a quilter.
“What’s next, Mom? Can I design something on your computer?”
“Sure. We’ll think of something good for June, sweetie. I’ve just been so busy—”
“We could do a watermelon. Or a bullfrog. There’s a big one in the pond. I want to catch him for a present for Grandma.”
Bridget smiled. Molly was still a tomboy at heart. “I don’t think your grandma would be happy if you gave her a frog.”
“She says I drive her up a tree sometimes.” Molly grinned impishly.
“Oh, Molly!” Bridget couldn’t help laughing as she shook her head. “Let me guess. Today you kept on saying you wished you had something in-ter-est-ing to do.”
“You sound just like me,” Molly crowed.
“I was trying to.”
Molly sighed. “Grandma has just been in a bad mood lately. What’s wrong, Mom? Why is she so upset?”
Pushing the car door shut with her hip, Bridget tried to avoid the true reason. “Everyone has bad days now and then.”
“But she keeps talking about the same thing. It’s boring.”
“Oh? And what would that be?” Bridget blew out her breath, wishing her mother had the self-discipline to watch what she said around an impressionable kid. Apparently not.
“That man, that man, that man. Why did that man have to come back? Over and over. She bugs Grandpa about it and asks him if there isn’t some way to make that man go away.” Molly frowned, glancing up at her mother for an explanation as they crossed the driveway to the steps leading up to the chalet’s porch. “What man?”
“Walk ahead and open the screen door for me, will you?” Bridget requested, stalling for more time while she tried to think of a reply.
Molly shifted the bag of groceries to one arm as she put her foot on the bottom step, looking at her mother and almost knocking over a flowerpot on the near side. “Do you know who Grandma means?”
“I—” The sentence was never finished. That man was standing on the porch. Even though she’d anticipated such a meeting eventually, it took Bridget a minute to recover from the shock of seeing him. She took a deep breath. There was no sense in scaring Molly or even making her nervous. “What are you doing here, Jonas?”
“I decided it was time to visit my neighbors,” he replied calmly. “The porch seemed like a good place to wait.” His gaze drifted lazily around him. “Nice place.”
“Thank you.” Her tone was crisp. She didn’t invite him in.
“Are we neighbors?” Molly studied him curiously, not recognizing Jonas as the stranger she had seen so briefly weeks ago in her mother’s shop. “Oh—you must be the person who bought Mr. Hanson’s farm.”
