A Hero's Child by Diana Whitney

Author:Diana Whitney [Diana Whitney]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781459273412
Publisher: Harlequin

Chapter Eight

“To tell you the truth, Madeline, I’m not sure how Hobie’s back is feeling. Better, I think.” Shifting the telephone, Rae glanced through the front window just as Steve’s car drove up. “I’ll tell him you called, though… Yes, I’ll remind him that acupuncture is the most widely used therapy in the world. Uh-huh. Right. Bye, now.” She hung up just as the front door opened. “Steve, what a nice surprise.”

He sat at the counter, laying his briefcase on a vacant stool. “I had business in Auburn this morning, so I thought I’d stop by for a late lunch. Is there any soup left?”

“Always.” She headed to the kitchen tureen, ladled out a steaming bowl of the diner’s trademark hearty vegetable beef, then hurried back to serve the dish. “This must be serendipity,” she said, arranging several cracker packages around the soup plate’s rim. “I was just thinking about you.”

Steve brightened, holding his raised spoon in midair. “Were you?”

Reaching under the counter, Rae retrieved the rolled plans Hank had drawn. She turned the sheet so it faced Steve, then spread it on the counter, holding the curled edges in place with squeeze bottles of ketchup and mustard. “Look, isn’t this wonderful?”

Steve laid down his spoon, clearly perplexed. “Isn’t what wonderful?”

“Why, Hank’s plans.”

“Flynn drew these?” The question was issued softly, expressing surprise tempered with annoyance. “For what purpose?”

Normally Rae was attuned to the nuances of Steve’s voice, but on this day excitement overshadowed caution and she blurted out everything Hank had told her about his idea to renovate the cottages into recreational rentals.

Steve listened carefully, studying the plans as Rae spoke, and had yet to look up as she completed her exuberant sales pitch.

“The panning trough would be visible from the street, so curious tourists would have easy access. Once they’re parked, they’ll see the bungalows, and we’ll have a visitor center here—”she pointed to a small sketch at the top left of the plans “—and a bunch of free brochures— with lovely color photos of the creek—that highlight fishing, swimming, hiking…and mining, of course, for those who actually enjoy swirling dirt in a pan for hours on end.”

Finally, her breath expended, Rae straightened, pushing an obstinate strand of hair from her flushed face. As Steve continued to study the plans without comment, her optimism faded.

Rae added a final hopeful plea. “With so many people around, the diner’s business is bound to increase, don’t you think?”

For several long seconds Steve said nothing. Then, when Rae felt the last shred of hope slipping away, he turned away from the plans and looked up. “It’s a fine idea.”

Rae pressed a palm against her chest, certain she’d misheard. “It is?”

“Yes, actually.” He angled another glance at the plans. “Simple, minimal capital requirement, well within the parameters of the grant terms. Quite viable, really. I wish I’d thought of it myself.”

Her breath rushed out in a relieved hiss. She steadied herself on the counter, thrilled yet not quite believing that the fiscally conservative Steve Ruskin actually favored Hank’s plan.

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