When Grace Sings by Kim Vogel Sawyer Read Free Book Online Page A

and his son Steven are from Sommerfeld, Kansas.”She turned to the pair of men. “Mr. Forrester lives in Chicago. He’s a newspaper reporter.”
    He was actually a tabloid reporter, but he wouldn’t correct her. He extended his hand across the table. “Hello. Very nice to meet you.”
    The father rose from his chair to shake Briley’s hand, but the son only bobbed his head in greeting.
    Briley shifted his attention to Alexa’s grandmother. Instead of a dining room chair, she sat in a wheelchair. The new-looking ramps in the front and back suddenly held great meaning, and an unexpected wave of sympathy struck him. He offered her his most charming smile—the one Aunt Myrt had bemoaned could melt butter. “It’s nice to meet you as well, Mrs. Zimmerman. You have a beautiful home.”
    “Thank you.” Her words were polite, but her eyes held apprehension. “It would only be a plain-looking farmhouse were it not for Alexa. She gave the house a makeover for my birthday and then set to work fixing things up in here and turning what used to be the summer kitchen into a cottage. Now everything looks like new.”
    Briley took a bite of the casserole. He chewed slowly, savoring the blend of flavors, then swallowed and wiped his mouth. “Obviously your granddaughter is a woman of many talents. A decorator, a gourmet cook, already operates her own business … What else do you excel in, Miss Zimmerman?”
    Alexa’s cheeks blazed pink. She rose jerkily, blinking rapidly in the Brungardts’ direction. “Mr. Brungardt, I see your plate is empty. Would you like another serving? There’s plenty left.” The man nodded, and Alexa took his plate and disappeared into the kitchen.
    Briley forked another bite of casserole to keep from chuckling. Her pretense of caring for the other guests hadn’t fooled him. He’d been around females enough to know when one found him attractive. Most young women preened or openly flirted. Alexa, either shy or unaccustomed to social interaction, did neither. Wouldn’t it be fun to break down her barriers? Now that he’d figured out the
us
indicated her and her grandmother—and of course heshould have surmised she was single when she referred to herself as
miss
—she was fair game.
    He’d have to be cautious, though. The grandmother’s legs might not work, but he suspected nothing was wrong with her vision. Or her senses. He could tell she’d already pegged him as untrustworthy, the same way a lot of older people did when they looked at his shadow of dark whiskers, spiked hair, and leather jacket. He might have some trouble winning this one over.
“You’ve got to fit in if you want them to open up to you.”
Len’s warning rang through his mind. It wouldn’t be nearly as much fun, but he’d behave himself.
    Alexa returned with a plate heaping with casserole and a face empty of the pretty blush. Breakfast continued with soft chatter among the two guests—from Summer’s Field, was it?—and the Zimmerman women. Briley didn’t intrude upon the conversation. Listening with a reporter’s ear, he searched for any tidbits that might find their way into his article. To his disappointment, nothing of merit arose.
    When the older Brungardt had finished his second serving, he pushed his plate aside. “That was very good, Miss Zimmerman. If you wouldn’t mind writing down the recipe, I will take it home to share with my wife. I think it would be a good one to have at our fellowship breakfasts.”
    Briley perked up. “Fellowship breakfasts?”
    Mrs. Zimmerman answered. “Our church membership often gathers together for meals. We share food and our concerns and the things that give us reason to celebrate. We’re very much like a big family.” She paused and tipped her head, making one of the ribbons from her cap crunch against the flowered shoulder of her homemade dress. “Do you come from a big family, Mr. Forrester?”
    Briley broke off a chunk from his baked apple. “No, ma’am.” He