Anna Meets Her Match. Arlene JamesЧитать онлайн книгу.

      “Aunt Hypatia,” Reeves asked, having listened carefully for some minutes, “are you certain that this printer is the right one for the job?”

      He’d thought about it a lot. Actually, to be completely honest with himself, he’d thought about Anna Miranda, almost constantly. For some reason, he couldn’t seem to get her off his mind. He kept picturing her contrite face as she’d made her apology last week, and somehow he now felt in the wrong.

      She’d always done that to him. She made his life miserable and one way or another he always felt to blame. How did she do that, and why did she have to turn up again after all these years? What was God trying to tell him? That his life could be worse? That was exactly what he was trying to avoid and not just for himself. Having seen the print shop and knowing his aunts’ expansive plans, Reeves truly felt that they would be better off taking their business elsewhere. Yet, because of one thing or another—primarily the complaining e-mails he’d been receiving daily from Marissa—he’d put off making the argument until now.

      Hypatia smiled her serene smile, the one that could make a troubled ten-year-old feel that all might actually one day be right with his world, and answered him. “Absolutely certain. Why do you ask, dear?”

      Why? Because he didn’t trust Anna Miranda. No matter what she said, there would surely be a shocking message buried in a letterhead or something else inappropriate. His aunts had always defended her, however, telling him that he didn’t understand her situation. The opposite seemed true to him. At least she hadn’t shuttled back and forth between her warring parents throughout her childhood as he had, never quite belonging either place. Maybe her grandmother, Tansy, was a bit difficult and not the warmest person, but at least she’d provided Anna Miranda with a stable home.

      “A larger shop would be better able to handle a job this size,” he argued, “and with Dallas just up the road—”

      “In other words, you think our shop will do shoddy work,” Anna interrupted hotly. “Or is it just my abilities that you doubt?”

      Reeves clenched his jaw. He had studiously avoided making eye contact with her, but now he leveled a stare at her face. “I didn’t say that. I just don’t want my aunts to be embarrassed. This scholarship fund is important to them.”

      Odelia laughed, her pendulous earrings wriggling. “Oh, sweetie,” she chuckled. “We’re embarrassed all the time.”

      “Not that Anna Miranda has or would embarrass us,” Mags put in quickly.

      “Anna Miranda is a very gifted artist, Reeves,” Hypatia told him, “and she’s a very dear girl.”

      Very dear? Not the Anna Miranda he remembered. And no girl, either, he thought, not anymore. How, he wondered, did she manage to appear so casually polished and smirk at the same time? She looked…womanly, innately female, right down to that twisted little smile.

      “Besides,” Anna Miranda said, “there are a surprising number of items needed, but not so many copies of each that a larger printer would find it worthwhile.”

      Reeves opened his mouth to argue with that, but just then Gilli came sliding into the room in her stocking feet, her hair wet, her T-shirt and pants twisted.

      “Daddy, I had a aksident and Carol made me take a bath!” she complained.

      Automatically, he demanded, “What did you do?”

      Mags and Auntie Od reached out to Gilli, clucking and quickly righting her clothes, while Hypatia explained that they’d had a little incident involving homemade cookies and an open bag of flour. Groaning inwardly, Reeves folded his arms.

      “And just how did that bag of flour tip over, Gilli?”

      Poking out her bottom lip, Gilli shrugged. “I don’t know.”

      He doubted that, but she just stood there staring up at him with those wide eyes. Anna cleared her throat. Suddenly mortified that she, of all people, should witness this, Reeves made a snap decision. His daughter would not lack discipline as Anna Miranda evidently had. He would not have a brat of his own.

      “Go to your room, Gilli,” he ordered, “and do not come out again until you’re called down for dinner.” Wailing, Gilli tore out of the parlor. Avoiding all gazes, especially Anna’s, Reeves said, “I apologize. I’ll make sure she’s in her room, then I think I’ll go out for a run.”

      “We’ll keep an eye on her,” Magnolia offered gently.

      “Try to enjoy your run, dear,” Ophelia told him, pity in her voice.

      Some days his runs were all he did enjoy. Casting around a wan smile, Reeves strode out after his daughter. Tonight, he desperately wanted to run away from his troubles. Of late, those troubles all seemed female in nature. First Marissa had reminded him that she held joint custody of their daughter in a veiled attempted to make him renegotiate their divorce settlement. Then he returned to his one sanctuary to find Anna Miranda there and Gilli upsetting the household. All together, it was enough to add miles to his regular routine.

      Of all his problems, however, Anna Miranda was the one he couldn’t get off his mind. She had once seemed intent on making his life miserable, and now she was at it again. He knew, as he had known even way back in school, that the best way to deal with her was to ignore her. Unfortunately, he didn’t seem able to do it now, which made no sense at all.

      Then again, what in his life did?