Picture Perfect Read online

  Dear Reader,

  Home, family, community and love. These are the values we cherish most in our lives—the ideals that ground us, comfort us, move us. They certainly provide the perfect inspiration around which to build a romance collection that will touch the heart.

  And so we are thrilled to have the opportunity to introduce you to the Harlequin Heartwarming collection. Each of these special stories is a wholesome, heartfelt romance imbued with the traditional values so important to you. They are books you can share proudly with friends and family. And the authors featured in this collection are some of the most talented storytellers writing today, including favorites such as Laura Abbot, Roz Denny Fox, Jillian Hart and Irene Hannon. We’ve selected these stories especially for you based on their overriding qualities of emotion and tenderness, and they center around your favorite themes—children, weddings, second chances, the reunion of families, the quest to find a true home and, of course, sweet romance.

  So curl up in your favorite chair, relax and prepare for a heartwarming reading experience!

  Sincerely,

  The Editors

  SHERRY LEWIS’S

  first love has always been books. In fact, she doesn’t remember a time in her life when she didn’t want to be a novelist. Her first literary success came in seventh grade when she won first place in a junior high school poetry contest and saw the poem published in the school’s newspaper. Her first book was published by Harlequin Superromance in January 1995.

  She is a self-confessed bookaholic and is firmly convinced she has one of the largest “To Be Read” stacks (actually, an entire room) in the world. She only wishes she had enough time to read them all.

  Sherry Lewis

  Picture Perfect

  Picture Perfect

  For my mother, Vanda Lewis,

  who has always encouraged my dream

  and for my daughters, Valerie and Vanessa,

  who’ve made it possible to chase the dream.

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER ONE

  “ROLL UP THE WINDOW, Michael.” Abby Drake turned the steering wheel and brought the Toyota around a sharp curve in the unfamiliar road. Warm summer rain splattered through the open window, threatening to soak the children.

  “Roll up the window, Michael,” Erin echoed softly, as if Abby needed an interpreter.

  “I like the feel of the rain,” Michael protested. But at Abby’s warning glance into the backseat, he reluctantly complied.

  Sighing, Abby returned her attention to the road. Had she made a mistake agreeing to this? Things hadn’t gone according to plan since they’d left Tempe, and were getting worse by the minute.

  Lightning flashed, momentarily illuminating the road and the dense forest on one side. Though Abby knew the other side of the road dropped sharply away toward the Columbia River, she couldn’t see it through the storm.

  “How much longer till we get there?”

  “I don’t know, Michael. I’m doing the best I can.”

  “I’m tired of sitting here.”

  “Have a cookie,” Erin suggested.

  Good idea. Abby wished she’d remembered the cookies herself. But concentrating on the road for so long had obviously taken more out of her than she’d expected. At least Erin, at eleven, was old enough to help with her brother. And at almost nine, Michael didn’t require the kind of care a younger child would.

  “I want to sit in the front seat,” Michael muttered.

  If they didn’t find Pine Cove soon, Abby knew she’d have to pull off the road to rest. The unfamiliar highway and four long days of travel had taken their toll.

  All that mattered was reaching Pine Cove and the house she’d rented for the summer. Then she’d get the kids into bed, take a hot bath and go to sleep. Everything else could wait until tomorrow.

  Straining to keep her eyes focused, she negotiated the wet road slowly until Erin lunged upward in her seat, her hand pointing over Abby’s shoulder. “There’s a sign!”

  “Thank goodness.” Pine Cove, Washington. Population 800. Perfect. They should be safe here.

  She found Water Street easily and followed it to number twelve, a weathered gray house facing the town square. Block lettering on the roadside mailbox read Z. HUTCHINGS. She’d made it to the right place.

  Because it stayed light so late in the summer, Abby had expected to arrive before dark. But negotiating the narrow winding road had put them behind schedule, and the sun had gone down well over an hour ago. Since she’d never spoken directly with their landlady, Abby could only hope Mrs. Hutchings would still be awake.

  She grabbed her sweater and looked back at the kids. “Are you ready?”

  Erin frowned at the water streaming down her window. “I don’t want to get wet. Can’t we wait here?”

  “I’ll come.” Michael flung his door open, letting in the rain.

  “Please, Erin. You know I can’t leave you here by yourself. Grab your sweater.” Abby pushed open her door and stepped out into the storm.

  With a sigh, Erin followed.

  Light shone from the front window, leading them easily up the walk. Mrs. Hutchings must still be awake, Abby guessed, so this shouldn’t take long. The last time Abby had spoken to her friend Ted, he’d assured her everything was arranged. All she had to do was pick up the keys and get directions to the house.

  Searching in vain for a doorbell, she rapped her knuckles against the door and waited. And waited. With a sinking heart, she knocked again. If anything else went wrong, she didn’t know what they’d do. She hadn’t seen a motel in miles. The kids couldn’t stay awake much longer, and neither could Abby. Mrs. Hutchings had to be awake.

  Rain poured from the roof onto the unsheltered porch as Abby huddled deeper into her sweater in a futile attempt to stay dry. The kids looked as miserable as she felt, and Abby knew she had to get them settled—soon. At last, after what seemed an eternity, the door opened to reveal a round little woman, her wrinkled face beaming up at them from beneath a halo of wispy white hair, her hands clutching a walker.

  “Mrs. Hutchings? I’m Abby Harris.” She had to stop herself from saying Drake.

  “Oh. My dear. Weren’t you coming in tomorrow?”

  Abby’s heart plummeted. Disaster. Surely Ted had explained that they’d get there as soon as they could, and no later than tomorrow.

  “Well, I can’t let you stand there all night,” Mrs. Hutchings said, backing away from the door.

  Warmth wrapped itself around Abby’s shivering shoulders as she and the children entered the house. Mrs. Hutchings turned in the narrow corridor with some effort and shuffled toward a large living room. “Come in here and sit down. You’re probably wet through.”

  Michael and Erin dropped onto the sofa, but Abby faced the window and looked out at the storm. Since it was June, she’d imagined clear skies and hot sun; instead, she found gray cloudy skies and pouring rain. She hoped it wasn’t an omen. “Mrs. Hutchings—”

  “Call me Zelda, my dear. We’re not formal around here.”

  “Zelda,” Abby started again. “If I can just get the key to the house and some directions, we’ll get out of your way.”

  “But I’m afraid the house isn’t quite ready. I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

  Afte
r so long on the road, they needed the house—now. Abby had pushed herself harder than she should have to get here, and none of them could stand another minute in the car. They’d been on the road since six-thirty that morning. Her back hurt, her neck ached, and her eyes burned. She knew the children were just as miserable. They all needed the comfort of a warm bed and the quiet of a place of their own.

  Mrs. Hutchings fluttered her hands. “I don’t even know if the house is fit for you to stay in it tonight. No, I can’t let you go over there by yourself. I’m going to call my nephew. You can wait here until he comes. He takes care of everything at the house for me—has done since my husband passed on. I’ll have him go with you and help you get settled.”

  Abby bit back a protest and resigned herself to wait. She might not like the idea, but she had no alternative.

  KURT BUTTONED himself into his heavy rain gear, muttering under his breath. All week he’d promised Brody they’d watch the NBA play-off game together. They’d gone to the FoodWay and stocked up on chips and soft drinks, popcorn and beef jerky. Everything Brody wanted. And though Kurt had seen the boy enthusiastic about very little since his mother had left nearly two years ago, this had come closer than anything else.

  Then Aunt Zelda had called.

  And now Brody sat in front of the television looking sullen.

  “I’ll hurry back,” Kurt promised. “I won’t stay long.”

  “It’s all right.”

  “Look, I’m sorry about this,” Kurt continued. “She said it was urgent and I need to make sure she isn’t sick, but anything else can wait until morning. I’ll be back before the first quarter’s over.”

  “Right.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

  Brody’s eyes flashed up from the television screen for a second, filled with scorn. “To Aunt Zelda’s? No thanks.”

  “I can always send Cindy home again,” Kurt pressed. Their neighbor, a high school senior next year, stayed with Brody while Kurt worked and on the very rare nights he went out without his son.

  Brody shook his head. “No, I’ll stay here.”

  “Okay, but save me some popcorn.”

  With a noncommittal shrug, Brody turned back to the game, and Kurt studied him for a long moment before yanking up his collar and heading out into the storm. Of all the nights for Aunt Zelda to decide she needed something, why did she have to pick this one? And why did she have to call him? Couldn’t she call Jack—just this once?

  Jamming his Jeep Cherokee into gear, Kurt pulled onto the highway as thunder rolled overhead. No, Zelda would never call Jack. The older of the two brothers, Jack had never had much patience with their aunt. He’d used his other obligations, including taking over as editor of the Pine Cove Patriot after their father’s death five years ago, as an excuse to avoid Zelda’s demands. So Kurt always got the call.

  He didn’t usually mind so much. His legal practice in Pine Cove couldn’t exactly be described as demanding, and after Laura had left, he’d had too much empty time on his hands. He’d actually looked on Zelda’s demands as a blessing in disguise for the first several months after the divorce.

  But lately he’d grown more used to life as a single parent, and his practice had picked up. He didn’t need Zelda—or anyone else—to fill his days anymore. He did need to spend time with Brody and help his son make the adjustments Kurt had finally managed to make himself.

  He turned left onto Water Street and saw an unfamiliar car parked in front of Zelda’s house. That must mean the summer renters had arrived. Kurt bit back an oath. He’d expected to have another day to get the place ready. So much for his promise to Brody. This would probably take longer than he’d thought.

  He still couldn’t understand why Zelda had decided to rent his grandparents’ house at the last minute. She’d talked all spring about hiring a contractor to fix the place up, then out of nowhere she’d gotten this idea to rent it for the summer. And as usual, she’d asked Kurt to get everything ready.

  Well, he wouldn’t do it tonight. He’d hand the guy the key and give him directions. They’d be all right in the house for one night.

  He pounded up the walk and burst in without knocking. Water dripped from his coat onto the rug. He shook his head and watched droplets of water fall from his hair onto the floor. In the living room, he heard voices and the sound of Zelda’s walker.

  “Here he is!” Zelda cried. “Take off your wet things and come in here for a minute, Kurt. I want you to meet Abby Harris and her children.”

  Zelda had always been headstrong, and she’d grown stubborn in her old age. She’d never agree to send the renters another twenty miles to the Hi-Tide Inn, though it was exactly what she should have done under the circumstances. But arguing with her wouldn’t get him anywhere.

  He hung his coat on a hook by the door and followed the sound of voices into the living room. Two children sat on the sofa drinking cocoa. The boy smiled. The girl didn’t shift her attention from the mug in her hand.

  Across the room, Zelda hovered around a small blond woman. She’d pulled out one of her blankets and had it tucked around the woman’s legs. As he watched, she stuffed a corner of it into the space between the woman and the chair. The woman looked up and met his gaze with clear blue eyes, but agitation played across her face, as if Zelda’s ministrations weren’t really welcome. Her face was pale and drawn, and the children had that hollow-eyed look Brody always got when he stayed up too late.

  But Zelda didn’t seem to notice. She sent him one of her motherly smiles. “This is my nephew, Kurt Morgan. He lives just up the highway from where you’ll be. Kurt, this is Abby Harris. I imagine you two will get to know each other pretty well. This young man seems about the same age as Brody.”

  Abby Harris shifted in her seat, pulled the blanket away from her legs and tossed her damp hair with her hand the way Laura used to after a shower. She flashed him a glance loaded with impatience. “How far away is the house?”

  At least she didn’t expect him to sit around while she warmed up. “It’s a couple of miles out of town,” Kurt explained. “It’ll take us about ten minutes to get there. You can follow me. It’s on my way—” He stopped and looked around the room again, only now realizing that something wasn’t right. “Did I misunderstand? Isn’t your husband here with you?”

  The girl finally looked at him, her eyes darting up in surprise, but Abby Harris smiled easily. “My husband is working in Europe this summer. The kids and I are here on our own.”

  Great. Now he’d have to get the house warmed up for her before he could go back home. From outside, sounds of the storm intruded, and rain poured in sheets from the darkened sky. It would take forever for that old mausoleum of a house to heat up. And common courtesy prevented him from leaving them alone to unpack their car in this storm. With a silent apology to Brody, Kurt knew he had no choice but to help them get settled.

  Abby watched the emotions play across Kurt Morgan’s face. He didn’t want to be here; she could tell from the frown that drew his brows together. He probably blamed her for making him come out in this storm.

  She struggled out of the heavily padded chair and faced him, though she had to crane her neck to do it. “Please don’t feel you have to help us.”

  “The house is old and the heating system is pretty outdated. Unless you’re familiar with furnaces of the dark ages—”

  “Of course she isn’t,” Zelda stated firmly. “You’re not leaving them over there with no heat or hot water.”

  No hot water? Abby was startled. What kind of place had Ted found for them? She’d lived on her own for the past several years, but she’d always relied on her landlords to get the furnace working or the water heater going. As much as she wanted to be alone with the kids right now, she’d have to let Kurt Morgan come with them.

  IT TOOK THEM nearly fifteen minutes to reach the sprawling old Victorian house. Abby stayed close behind Kurt Morgan’s Jeep, until he finally turned off the road on
to a gravel drive.

  “It looks creepy,” Erin whispered from the back seat.

  Though she secretly agreed, Abby put on a brave face. “It’ll look better in the daylight. Grab everything you can and let’s make a run for it.”

  They didn’t have far to go from the drive to the wide porch that wrapped around the house and provided shelter from the storm. But by now, Abby was thoroughly soaked and a chill had seeped into her bones. She knew the children must be just as uncomfortable.

  Kurt unlocked the door and held open the screen for them. The house certainly was large. And old. And cold. Maybe having him there wasn’t so bad, after all. Still, she hoped he wouldn’t stay long. Exhaustion tugged at her eyelids, threatening to throw her off balance.

  “Is your car locked?”

  She struggled to focus on his face. An attractive enough face, even if he didn’t know how to smile. Tiredly, she shook her head. “The trunk is.”

  “Tell me which bags you need first and I’ll bring them in. Then you can change into some dry clothes while I start the furnace and check on a few other things.”

  “My black garment bag, I guess. My overnight bag. Erin’s suitcase is the blue one and Michael’s is brown.” She held out her keys to him.

  Without another word, he ducked back into the storm and reappeared a few minutes later carrying the bags she’d requested.

  “Your rooms are all upstairs.” With a jerk of his head, he indicated they should follow him.

  The climb was torture to Abby’s weary limbs. Erin and Michael dragged themselves up the stairs behind her. Exhaustion had finally claimed Michael and stopped his complaints, but Erin’s mood hadn’t altered—she was as closed as ever.

  At the top of the stairs, Kurt Morgan turned to the right. He placed Michael’s bag on the floor in the first room. Sheets and blankets lay folded on top of the bed, and no doubt the other rooms were in the same condition. They couldn’t even lie down until they’d made the beds.