Winning Heart by Laura Browning

Author:Laura Browning
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lyrical Press
Published: 2011-07-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Thursday evening Irene O’Reilly’s phone rang. Wythe was out of town wrapping up a complicated estate case, so it wouldn’t be him calling. Perhaps Wynter? Irene had been uneasy ever since her daughter’s call about her sprained ankle. It was more than the injury. She felt in her gut something was going on between her daughter and Nelson Anderson. When she’d shared her concern with Wythe, half-expecting him to tell her she was over-reacting, he’d also voiced concern.

So when she picked up the phone and heard Nelson Anderson identify himself, she was surprised—and cool.

“Mrs. O’Reilly, how are you?”

“I’d be a whole lot better if I heard from you how my daughter is doing. She’s never sounded as down in the dumps as she did when she called Tuesday.”

“That’s the reason I’m calling. I’d like to invite you here since Wynter can’t visit you. It would be a pleasant surprise for her.”

By the end of the conversation, she had agreed. Wythe, though he didn’t know it yet, would bring her down Saturday afternoon and they would spend the night. She hung up the phone feeling much better regarding Wynter—and Nelson Anderson. A man who meant her harm wouldn’t go to these lengths to please her.

* * * *

Wythe returned the following afternoon. When Irene heard the jeep in the driveway, she jumped up to meet him outside. Fall’s bright blanket of color was fading, leaving some of the trees behind the house bare. When Wythe rounded the corner of the trailer, he beamed at her. Those eyes always made her melt.

She knew he still saw Trish Staunton on occasion. Irene wasn’t sure how serious it was, but she didn’t want to know. If she discovered he was serious about Trish, it would be the blow that crushed any hope Irene held. She might be foolish for wanting him, but it didn’t stop how she felt—how she’d felt for a long time.

She smiled back, leaning against him to give him a hug before he started up the steps.

“Wythe,” Irene greeted him as she dragged him inside the house, “you’ll never guess who called yesterday.”

He tilted his head. “The President? The Pope? That’s it,” he decided, “the Pope is nominating you for sainthood for working at the Butlers.”

Irene laughed while she poured him a cup of coffee. “You’re so bad, Wythe Bradshear! And you’re the one who helped get me the job.”

His face sobered. “Don’t remind me.”

“Anyway,” Irene continued, not wanting to talk about the Butlers, “Nelson Anderson called. He’s invited me to visit Pheasant Run this weekend. He’s also invited you, that is, if you don’t already have plans?”

She almost sagged with relief when he answered, “None I can’t cancel. You know I’d be happy to take you down there, Irene.”

She smiled. “You do so much. I feel like we take and take from you.”

He surprised her then. Stretching out an arm, he caught her around the waist and pulled her onto his lap. When she started to bounce back up, he held her.

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