Read Online Always in Her Heart by Marta Perry - Free Book Online

become tousled, making him look younger. Absorbed in the album, he seemed relaxed,as if the strain of his grief and his worry over the building project had temporarily been dismissed.
    â€œThere. Look at that.” Link, grinning, pointed to a photo of a diaper-clad baby proudly holding himself upright against a piano bench.
    Annie recognized the bench—it still stood at the spinet in the living room. She bent to look closer and her hand brushed Link’s, setting off a wave of warmth. She moved her fingers away carefully and tried to concentrate on the picture.
    â€œWell, there’s a little resemblance, I guess,” she conceded.
    â€œA little? She’s the image of her daddy.” Link leafed through the pages, apparently oblivious to that touch. “Let me find another one.”
    â€œNo fair.” She pulled the album toward her. “You’re not letting me see all of them.”
    He smiled, letting half of the heavy pages rest on her lap. “Go ahead, look. You’ll see the same resemblance in every picture.”
    â€œWe’ll see.” She turned pages. Davis with his parents, who’d been gone for five years now. They’d died within a year of each other—his father from cancer, his mother from heart failure, as if she hadn’t wanted to go on without her husband.
    Davis in a Scouts uniform…a football uniform. The story of his life was played out in the series of photos.
    She touched one of Davis in a graduation gown.“It looks as if his illness didn’t keep him from participating in plenty of activities.”
    â€œPictures can be deceiving.” Link flattened his hand against the page, and his voice had gone flat, too. “He spent several weeks in a hospital during his senior year.”
    She leaned back against the buttery-soft leather, watching his face. “You didn’t know him then, did you?”
    He shook his head. “We met in college, freshman year. Roommates by the luck of the draw. His mother told me about it later.” He flipped another page or two. “There. That’s Christmas break our freshman year.”
    Again, she recognized the setting—the living room of this house. Davis’s mother, elegant and composed, stood in front of a Christmas tree, flanked by Davis and Link.
    Link had been thinner then, as if he hadn’t yet caught up with his height. He looked—she tried to find the right word. Happy, but somehow almost surprised at that happiness, as if thinking it didn’t belong to him.
    â€œYou didn’t go home to your family?” She ventured the question cautiously, remembering that he seldom spoke of his people.
    â€œNo.” The curt monosyllable closed the door on that subject. “Davis’s parents invited me to Lakeview with him.” He touched the picture gently. “His parents made me so welcome. I’d never had a Christmas like that.”
    She wanted to ask why he hadn’t gone to his own home, what his other Christmases had been like, but his attitude had already warned her off the subject of his family.
    â€œI never really got to know Davis’s parents well. They seemed very nice.”
    Nice. The truth was, she’d always felt uneasy around them, always mindful of the fact that they hadn’t wanted their son to marry Becca.
    â€œThey treated me like one of their own. I don’t think I could ever repay their kindness.”
    â€œYou tried.” She regretted the words the instant they were out. Why did she want to spoil the momentary harmony between them by bringing up something on which they’d never agree?
    Link’s jaw tightened, a tiny muscle twitching. “I made a promise. I told you that.”
    â€œI know. I’m sorry.” Instinctively, without thinking, she put her hand over his. “Really. I shouldn’t have said that. I realize you were doing what you thought you had to.”
    And whatever had begun