Mountain Sanctuary by Lenora Worth Page B

least.
    Still, how could he be sure?
    Kyle came bursting into the kitchen. “That sure smells good.”
    “Ready to eat, honey?” Stella asked, her smile bright.
    “Yes, ma’am,” Kyle replied. “Mama, you should have come to church. The preacher talked all about spring and rebirth and second chances. He said we all get a second chance in life.”
    “You were listening,” Stella said, going about her work. “That’s good.”
    Kyle bobbed his head. “And my Sunday-school teacher, Miss Irene, gave me a picture to paint. Wanna see it?”
    “You can show it to me after we eat, all right? We’ll hang it right there on the refrigerator.”
    Kyle bobbed his head again. “I like church.”
    Adam waited for Stella to give him a look of disapproval, but he was mildly surprised to find her instead smiling down at her son. “I’m glad you like church, honey.” Then she looked up at Adam and her smile broadened. “It’s been a good day so far.”
    “Yes, it has,” he said, relieved that she wasn’t angry with him for taking her son to church. And just because he was feeling bold, he leaned close. “The preacher said there’s a gospel and bluegrass band playing on the square tonight. Wanna walk up there later and give a listen?”
    “Just you and me?” she asked, her voice grainy with doubt, her eyes wide with surprise.
    He smiled. “Uh, yes, just you and me. That is, if that’s allowed?”
    She pursed her lips and glanced toward her son. “That might be allowed. Let me think about it.”
    “Okay,” he replied as he poured tea. “It starts at six. Meet me in the backyard if you want to go.”
    She nodded, then scooted away toward the den where her father sat reading a magazine. “Daddy, dinner is ready.”
    Adam stood at the counter, wondering if she’d show up. And wondering if he’d been wise to ask Stella out on an official date.

     
    At five o’clock, Stella knocked on the door of the small office where her father sat poring over the inn’s accounting books. “What’re you doing, Daddy?”
    Wally glanced up, a guilty look on his aged face. “Just going over the figures. I thought you were resting.”
    “I did rest while I folded linens, and then I checked our bookings a second time and then, well, never mind. Why are you going over the books? You know I handle all of that.”
    Wally put down his pen. “Yep, and that’s why I’m going over things. I want to contribute, Stella. I can do this part for you, at least. I kept my own books for years, you know.”
    She sank down in a chair across from him. “You don’t need to do that now, Daddy. It’s not that much to do, mostly just putting numbers into the computer.”
    Wally stared over at her, his bifocals perched on his ruddy nose. “But it’s just one more thing for you to worry about. You know, I’m old, but I’m still useful. I even know a little bit about this fancy computer program you had installed. If you give me a chance, I think I can take over the bookkeeping around here.”
    “But why?” Stella asked, shocked that her father was even expressing an interest in this. “You need to rest and take it easy, remember?”
    Wally slammed his fist against the aged walnut desk. “Yeah, I remember since everybody and his brother around here tells me that on a regular basis. Stella, you work too hard and you have always taken on way too much, sugar. I’m telling you I want to contribute.” He stopped, took a breath. “I need to contribute, understand?”
    Stella heard the catch of frustration in his words. “I’m sorry, Daddy. You did run your own business for years. I guess you might be an asset around here if I’d just give you a chance, huh?”
    “Exactly,” Wally said, pointing a finger toward the ledger. “I might not know about cooking pretty meals or taking care of frilly sleeping rooms, but I do know figures. And I can do this for you, Stella. I just want to do something productive.”
    “Okay, then.” She got up and