Page 15 of There I Find Hope

I’m not going to be too long, because I don’t know whether you want me to keep writing or not. If I don’t hear from you again, I’ll assume that it’s a no.

Thanks again for your letter. It made me smile. I’m glad you’re doing better.

Sincerely,

Business Boy

Chapter 6

Sunday walked into her mom’s bed-and-breakfast. She just had lunch with Kristin at the diner, and it had been bittersweet. Some laughter, some tears, and a sweet hour with a beautiful friend who truly cared about her.

It had done her so much good.

Not so much good that she felt like she could go to the candy shop or step into her apartment. Not just yet.

So she was back at her mom’s house.

Her mom usually took a walk in the morning to go see her lighthouse friend, to check on him and make sure he was okay. At least that’s what she said. Sunday figured that she took a walk just so she could be sure she got stocked up on her espresso bean habit.

But whatever it was, she had promised her mom that she would be at the bed-and-breakfast to answer the phone and take care of any request the guests who were staying over might have.

Her mom had left ten minutes ago, and so she didn’t expect her back for two hours.

She busied herself in the kitchen, taking the canisters and Tupperware out of the cabinets and wiping them down. She couldn’t just sit and do nothing. She had to stay busy. Right now, anyway. If she didn’t stay busy, she would end up thinking about Blake. And since she had gotten out of bed a week ago, she had been doing a lot better.

“Excuse me. Is Miss Lena around?”

She startled, turning so quickly she stumbled off the step stool she stood on and tripped. The canister of flour she held slipped from her fingers as she caught herself on the counter. It fell to the floor in a cloud of dust.

“Oh!” she said, barely keeping herself upright, as her eyes landed on the mess on the floor. Just what she needed to do in front of a potential customer. She was supposed to welcome them, not chase them away with flour canisters and messes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” the man said, and his voice was rich and smooth and soothing.

Her hand rested over her heart as she slowly straightened from the counter and looked him over.

He had on business attire, casual. No tie, and the top button of his shirt was unbuttoned. He wore dress pants, but instead of the typical business shoes, he had on a pair of cowboy boots.

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