The Growing Season by Diana Copland

Author:Diana Copland
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-06-30T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

It was nearly eleven o’clock and the massive house had settled into a restive silence. Danny was lying on the couch in the lounge, absently flipping through the channels on the muted flat-screen TV, unable to relax.

He couldn’t seem to settle anywhere, and he felt jittery. His mind kept returning to Sam. Was he okay? Was he sorry Danny had come to the hospice that afternoon? Ignatius senior had been too broken up to even notice Danny, but the older woman had certainly been transparent enough with her feelings. Danny had been on the receiving end of looks like that for much of his life, and he knew what she was thinking. He hoped he hadn’t made it more difficult for Sam.

There wasn’t much on but local news and infomercials, and Danny flipped unseeing past them all. Between the overly coiffed small-town anchors and the ads for walk-in bathtubs and high-powered blenders, he couldn’t find anything to engage his interest. Finally, he turned off the television, tossed the remote aside, and rose to head up to bed. He’d let Cal look at his foot when they’d gotten back from the hospice, and his job of bandaging was much more comfortable than Danny’s had been. He took the first two steps with little pain when the doorbell echoed through the large house.

He moved quickly to the front entry. Peering through the leaded glass oval in the heavy front door, he immediately recognized Sam standing on the porch, even with the porch light off. His head was lowered, his shoulders were hunched and his hands were in the front pockets of his jeans. He wasn’t wearing a jacket even though it was in the low forties, and Danny quickly threw the bolt and opened the door.

“Hey,” he greeted breathlessly.

Sam tried for a smile, but failed. “Hey.”

They stared at each other. “Aren’t you cold? Where is your jacket?”

Sam looked down, as if surprised to find he wasn’t wearing one. “I guess I must have forgotten.”

He looked so genuinely lost that Danny opened the door wider. “Come in here.”

Danny caught his arm, and Sam allowed himself to be pulled into the house and stood meekly as Danny closed the door behind them. He took Sam’s hand and led him into the lounge. Sam shuffled, moving like a sleepwalker.

“Everything all right?”

Danny looked up. Devon was standing on the landing, Will and Cal at his shoulder. Devon was still wearing jeans and a dark sweater, but Cal and Will were both dressed for bed.

“We heard the doorbell.” Cal studied Sam’s drawn face. “How’re you doing, Sam?”

Sam cleared his throat, frowning. It was almost as if he was having trouble understanding the question. Danny slid his hand across his back, and felt the chill clinging to his shirt.

“I’m okay,” Sam finally managed.

“I’m so sorry about your mom.” Will’s eyes were sad. “She was a nice lady.”

Sam nodded and Danny heard him swallow. “Yeah, she really was.”

There was an uneasy silence. What exactly did you say to

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