Read Online Love on a Deadline by Kathryn Springer - Free Book Online

why?” Annie’s question tugged Mac back to reality.
    â€œAnd risk even more humiliation?”
    â€œMaybe he had a good reason.”
    â€œHe did. Kristen Ballard.” Mac had heard her bragging about watching a movie at Ethan’s house after the dance. “She was on the homecoming court four years in a row. I couldn’t compete with her.”
    â€œMaybe you didn’t have to,” Annie said softly.
    â€œEthan was hoping to score some extra points with Coach by being nice to his geeky daughter.” And then he’d promptly forgotten about her. “I’m okay, Annie. It was a long time ago. Ethan was a long time ago.”
    â€œBut he’s here now,” Annie pointed out. “In Red Leaf.”
    â€œAnd I’m leaving.” Mac felt the need to point that out too.
    â€œI don’t know why.” Her friend’s face took on a look of dreamy contentment. “Red Leaf is perfect.”
    â€œYou say that because you didn’t grow up here. When I moved back home after Coach’s heart attack, it was as if I’d never been away. It doesn’t seem to matter that I graduated from college and lived in the city for a year.
    â€œEvery time I go into the bakery, Mrs. Sweet tells me that I’m too skinny and tries to force-feed me sprinkle doughnuts. When Vivienne Wallace sees me at church, she asks how my piano lessons are going.”
    â€œI didn’t know you played the piano.”
    â€œI don’t. Not since fourth grade anyway.” Mac released a sigh. “If I stay, people are always going to see me as the geeky little girl with braids . . . Why are you smiling?”
    â€œBecause Ms. Viv is a bit eccentric . . . and because I can’t wait until those kinds of things happen to me. I’ve lived in a lot of places but I never felt like I was part of them.” Annie reached out and squeezed her hand. “You have roots here. A shared history. I don’t think people look at you as the geeky girl with braids. They look at you with . . . love.”
    Mac didn’t have time to process that because the door of the nursery suddenly swung open and a petite brunette charged in.
    â€œCan I help— Hollis ?”
    â€œI talked to your dad,” Hollis said without preamble. “He said you’re the one who’s going to write about my wedding.”
    Mac tried to come up with her qualifications but she really didn’t have any. Or explain that her editor had given her the story based on the assumption they’d been close friends—but that would have sounded more like the punch line of a joke.
    Leaving Mac with only one option. The truth.
    â€œThat’s right.”
    Ethan’s sister took two steps toward her, bringing them nose to perfect freckle-free nose. Then she threw her arms around Mac’s neck. “Thank goodness.”

Ethan had wandered into his dad’s office on Monday morning , cup of coffee and Bible in hand, not expecting he would find an answer to prayer when he was searching for a pen in his father’s desk drawer.
    But there it was. The most unusual collection of memorabilia Ethan had ever seen. Photographs of bald-headed babies and gap-toothed children. Stats cut from the sports page. Fishermen proudly holding up the catch of the day. Handwritten notes and a four-leaf clover preserved under a yellowed piece of Scotch tape.
    As Ethan had slowly flipped through the pages, he realized these weren’t random items. They were gifts from his dad’s patients. Pieces of their lives.
    Ethan closed the cover of the scrapbook, along with any remaining doubts he’d been having over his decision to stay in Red Leaf.
    He’d been putting a fresh coat of paint on the boathouse Sunday night when his mother had marched up to him.
    â€œI just had an interesting conversation with Frank Heath in the frozen food aisle of the grocery store. He seemed surprised that I didn’t