Sara went across the street to the coffee shop and ordered a large mocha latte. Drink in hand, she started walking toward the library. The party was two weeks away and too big to contemplate at the moment. She needed to tackle one issue at a time. The most immediate problem was the after-school program.
Who on earth could she get to run it? Only one name came to mind. Grant.
She winced, thinking of the way he bailed on them after baseball practice. It would be easier to find someone else, but there was no one else. The first program was tomorrow afternoon. Grant was good with kids, and he was in town on vacation. At the very least, maybe he could do one or two programs to buy her time to find someone new.
Would Grant be willing to do it? There was only one way to find out.
Sara downed the last of her coffee and raced inside the library to grab her purse and keys.
Jennie was stationed behind the front desk and lifted a stack of messages. “These are the complaints from the Coffee and Coloring event today. We’ve got to do something about the coffee maker.”
Another problem to solve. Sara nodded. “We will. I’ll handle it when I get back. I’m going to run an errand and pick Ben up from school. Be back in a flash.”
The wind fluttered Sara’s hair as she crossed the parking lot. Rain was definitely coming.
Sara slid into the front seat of her Honda. “Come on, baby, come on.” She turned the ignition. The car rumbled to life, and she kissed the steering wheel. “Thank you.”
It took ten minutes to drive to the Edwards’ home. The curb was taken up by parked cars, so Sara pulled into the driveway next to a small SUV. Not Grant’s. It was his mother’s, and it appeared several of the tires were low on air. The vehicle was also covered with dust.
The house looked run-down as well. The wood was chipped around the door, and paint peeled on the porch. All of the flowerbeds had been overrun with weeds. Hadn’t Grant told her yesterday that his mom was redecorating? Maybe he only meant the inside of the house.
Sara killed her engine, and the vehicle gave a final shudder before going silent. She sent up a silent prayer that it would start again and then got out.
The garage door was open, but no one was inside. Unlike the house and the SUV in the driveway, the inside of the garage was immaculate. Tools were lined up neatly on pegboards. Clear organizational drawers for screws, nuts, and bolts sat on the workbench. The concrete was swept. Another vehicle sat on the left-hand side, concealed under a tarp.
Sara went up the cracked walkway to the front porch. Someone called her name, and she turned. Grant hurried across the street from his aunt’s house. He was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that strained across his broad chest. A baseball cap covered his hair, but nothing could disguise his thunderous expression.
Sara had no idea what would cause Grant to be so angry. She went down the porch steps. “Hey.”
“What are you doing?” Grant stopped in front of her, his gaze shooting to the house before focusing back on her. “I asked you a question.”
Actually, he’d barked it, and she didn’t appreciate his tone. This conversation was not off to a good start. Sara squared her shoulders. “I came to see you.”
“Without calling first?”
Okay, she hadn’t called before showing up on his doorstep, but it wasn’t uncommon in Hidden Hollows for friends to pop over unannounced. Then again, Grant had been gone for a long time. Sara licked her lips. “Sorry. I didn’t think you would mind.”
“Well, I do.” Grant glared, his stance broad. “Don’t come over here, ever, without calling first to let me know.”
Wow, okay, he was being a real jerk. Sara took a deep breath to tamp down the anger rising in her. “Noted.”
Lightning flashed, and the sky opened up. Rain pelted Sara, instantly soaking her hair and shoulders. Grant grabbed her wrist, his grip firm and warm. He broke into a jog, pulling her along the walkway with him, into the protection of the garage.
Inside, he released her. Sara shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. “I knew it was going to rain, but I didn’t think it would go from zero to a hundred.”
Grant went over to the workbench and ripped off some paper towels. “They’re clean.”
“Thanks.” She wiped the water from her face and wrung out her hair. Water dropped onto the concrete.
Sara tried not to notice how Grant’s dampened T-shirt clung to the muscles on his biceps, but it proved difficult. He leaned against the workbench and crossed his arms over his chest. That only made his biceps flex. The poor sleeves were going to rip off like some bizarre, real version of the hulk.
No, no, no. She was not here to study his muscles or worry about his sleeves.
Sara tore her gaze away. It settled on the vehicle covered by a tarp. She touched it. “Is this the truck you were building with your dad?”
Grant nodded, and his mouth tightened into a flat line. She pushed a corner of the tarp aside, revealing the open hood of the classic truck. Bits and pieces were assembled, but it was missing a lot. “You never thought about finishing it?”
He released a long breath. “I didn’t know it was still here until this morning. After my dad died, I never came in the garage. When I left for the navy, I figured Mom had gotten rid of it.”
“Maybe she was holding on to it for you.”
Grant glanced at the nearby toolbox. “I doubt it. I don’t think Mom’s been in the garage since Pop died either.”
That was a strange way of phrasing things. Sara tilted her head. “How do you know? Is that what she said?”
“Yeah.” His voice was tight. “That’s
