The Sweetheart Bargain (A Sweetheart Sisters Novel) by Shirley Jump Read Free Book Online Page B

burning through fuel too fast. Hurry the hell up, it’s getting bad out there—
    Then watching the cable whip in a wild arc, then catch in the mast, and like a rebounding yo-yo, jerk back up. Luke tried to shift the helo away, but the cable was faster, snarling in the transmission hub and the rotor blades, rendering the flight controls useless. After that, nothing but black. A void in his memory. A blessing and a curse.
    “I’m sorry,” Luke said softly, to the breeze dancing over his skin, wishing the words could carry far enough to reach those he had left behind.
    And the one he would never see again.
    “I know you are,” Grandma said. “I know you are.”
    The coffeepot beeped the end of the brewing cycle. Luke started toward it, but Greta stopped him. “I’ll get it. You sit. Have some cookies.”
    Luke turned toward the table, crossing the kitchen in a memorized number of steps. On a good day, he could see the checkerboard pattern in the tile. On a bad day, the checkerboard became a runny puddle of color.
    Outside, a bark sounded, then something scratched the back door. Luke peeled back the curtain, and for a second, the bright sun blinded him. He blinked, drew farther into the shadows of the house, then glanced down, concentrating until the blur became a shape, a form, an animal.
    The dog. Back again.
    “What’s that?” Grandma asked.
    “A dog. I bet a hundred bucks it’s that stray the new neighbor’s been looking for.” As soon as he said the words, he knew what his grandmother was going to suggest. Damn.
    “Well, then here’s your perfect opportunity to do a good deed. You know what my daddy always said. Favors done for the neighbor fine—”
    “Are best accompanied by a bottle of wine.” Luke shook his head and let out a chuckle. Leave it to his grandmother’s quirky sense of humor to bring a little lightness to his day. It made him glad—some—that he had opened the door to her and her cookies. “Does most of Grandpa’s advice come attached to a bottle of liquor?”
    Greta thought for a second. “Yup. You know your grandpa. He looked at the world through whiskey-colored glasses.”
    Luke released the curtain and it swung into place over the window. The dog scratched again. Insistent. Needy. For a second, compassion swept over Luke.
    He had no business caring for a dog. Hell, he could barely take care of himself. He stepped back. “Well, if she wants her dog, she can get it herself.”
    Grandma swatted his arm. “I raised you better than that, Luke Winslow. Now go be a good person and help poor Olivia out.” Before he could stop her, his grandmother undid the lock on the door and tugged it open.
    He started to argue, but the damned dog had already wriggled past his legs, into the house, and then dropped to the kitchen floor. Luke opened his mouth to order it out, then stopped.
    The dog’s breath was coming in fast, shallow pants of distress. Its tail thumped a weak patter against the tile. Friendly. Grateful.
    The dog needed help. Poor thing. That damned compassion returned in a stronger wave. Luke bent down and reached out a hand. The dog didn’t growl—heck, it barely moved. Then, a quick, friendly flick of the tongue against Luke’s thumb. Help me, help me.
    Luke’s hand hovered over the furry body, then descended in a tentative pat. The dog leaned closer, panted faster. “Grandma, I think you better go get the neighbor. Dog’s sick or something.”
    “Oh, goodness, where does the time go? I’m supposed to be at bingo. I’m calling the B-4 . . . and after.” Greta pressed a kiss to his cheek, then spun on her heel, moving insanely fast for a woman with a hip replacement. “I’ll see you soon, Luke.”
    And just like that, she walked out the door, leaving him with the dog, and a problem he didn’t want. A problem that was going to require the very thing Luke avoided.
    Involvement.

Four

    The drill screeched in disagreement, then sent the stripped and now useless screw