Mother's Day Miracle by Lois Richer

Author:Lois Richer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2000-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

“I’d love to give him the message, Mr. Chapman, but he hasn’t come home yet this evening. Mm-hm.” Clarissa shifted from one foot to the other uncomfortably. It was so hot, and she was so tired. Why had Tildy picked today to bake?

“They’re trying to finish up the golf club, so every moment counts. I’m sure he’ll get to your garage door as soon as he can. But if you can’t wait, I know Wade will understand if you have to hire someone else. Actually, it would be easier on him, too. His list is so long.” She listened to the protest with a tiny smile curving the corner of her lips, then rang off thoughtfully.

Over the past six weeks, the remarks about Wade’s heritage had died down until almost everyone in Waseka wanted him for one odd job or another. His workmanship was top-notch, though Clarissa felt his prices were a little low. She intended to speak to him about it, if he ever showed up before she was asleep and stayed until she was awake. The only way she knew he’d been there was the stack of laundry and the wet towels he left behind.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to tell them it’s all right to go elsewhere, Clara. I need those jobs to pay the bills.”

She jumped at the sound of his low voice, then whirled around. “I wish you wouldn’t sneak around like that. I almost dropped the teapot.” She inspected his dear face and winced at the lines of tiredness around his eyes. “Are you going to finish in time for the grand opening on Saturday?”

“Of course.” There was nothing but exhaustion in the words.

“You don’t have to push yourself so hard, Wade. The people here know you do a good job. You’ve got them lined up until Christmas, according to my list.” She held out the sheet on which she’d compiled the incoming calls. “I only gave approximate dates because I didn’t know how long each project would take. You’d better look it over while I get you something to eat. Is a salad platter okay? I fixed fruit salad for dessert. The kids are upstairs. Asleep, I hope.”

He flopped into a chair and began unlacing his boots. “I don’t need anything. I’m too tired to eat anyway.”

She ignored that and began pulling things out of the fridge. “Nonsense. You have to eat. You’re working yourself to the edge as it is.” Clarissa smacked the plate on the table in front of him, poured out some of her freshly made iced tea and added six ice cubes.

Wade ignored the food, long enough to take a huge gulp of the tea. “I’m fine, Clara. Don’t fuss.”

“Fuss?” she sputtered. “I haven’t begun to…why do you call me that? Clara?” The indignation died away to curiosity. “That’s the second time you’ve said it.”

“Well, it’s better than Prissy, which is what I heard Blair call you.” His eyes dared her to deny it. “Anyway, that’s how I think of you.

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