Free Hope Springs - 05 - Wedding Cake by Lynne Hinton Page A

of the women wouldn’t leave their homes.
    There was another pause. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I was married before,” he finally confessed. “I wasn’t hiding it,” he added. “I just didn’t tell you.”
    “We’ve only been out once,” Charlotte noted. “We hadn’t really had the chance to go into a lot of detail about our lives.”
    “You don’t count the tire change as a first date?” he asked.
    Charlotte grinned. “Well, there was a little more to it than just roadside assistance, wasn’t there?”
    “Coffee,” he replied. “And we did talk awhile that night,” he added.
    Charlotte blushed even though she wasn’t sure why. She glanced away from Donovan and cleared her throat. “So, does Carla have family she can go to when she’s stronger?” she asked.
    Realizing that the conversation had changed directions, he answered the question. “She has a couple of sisters and her mother is still living. I suppose I should let them know what has happened,” he said.
    “I’d let her make that decision,” Charlotte advised.
    They both noticed the lights of the car pulling into the driveway of the house.
    “That’s probably the nurse,” Charlotte guessed. “I better go meet her at the back and tell her what to expect.”
    Donovan stood up, understanding it was his cue to leave. “Thank you again,” he said. “Can I call tomorrow?” he asked.
    Charlotte wasn’t sure whether he meant her or the shelter for Carla but she answered positively regardless. “Of course.” She thought for a moment. “I did give you my card, right?” she asked.
    Donovan smiled and pulled it out from the front of his shirt pocket. “Reverend Charlotte Stewart,” he read. “Call me day or night,” he added.
    “It doesn’t say that,” Charlotte responded, knowing that he was teasing her.
    “No, but it probably should,” he said. He stuck the card back where it had been and headed for the door. “You’d take a call anytime, wouldn’t you?”
    She nodded. “Probably,” she replied.
    “I’ll call tomorrow,” he said.
    “We’ll be here,” Charlotte replied, still unsure whom he was intending to talk to.
    She opened the door and he headed down the steps, and when Charlotte turned around, the women from the shelter were all gathered in the hallway watching.

Clam Dip
    1 6½-ounce can minced clams
    1½ cups sour cream
    1 teaspoon onion salt
    ¼ teaspoon salt
    ¼ teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
    Drain clams; reserve 2 tablespoons liquid. Combine clams, reserved liquid, and remaining ingredients. Chill 3 to 4 hours. Serve with crackers. Makes 2½ cups.
    —Eldon Macintyre

Chapter Eight
    B eatrice saw the mailman as he rounded the corner. She threw on her coat and met him at her front gate just as he was about to bring the mail to her box on her front porch. “Eldon,” she said, studying the man who had delivered her mail for almost twenty years.
    “Mrs. Witherspoon,” he acknowledged. “How are you today?” he asked.
    “I’m as perky as a peach,” she replied. “And how are you?”
    He handed her a small stack of letters. “I am fine.”
    She took the stack and kept watching the man. “How is Lily?” she asked, sounding as if she knew the answer.
    “Lily is fine.” Eldon appeared as if he really wasn’t interested in a conversation. “Have a good day now.” And he turned to walk away.
    Beatrice stopped him. “Eldon,” she called out before he had taken a step.
    He turned back around. “Yes, Mrs. Witherspoon?”
    “This spring Jessie and James Jenkins are renewing their vows. The
Farmers’ Almanac
reports that the weather this year will be particularly kind for outdoor events, and I think it’s high time you marry that woman.” Beatrice was needling Eldon to propose to the woman he had been dating for as long as he had been a mailman. For fifteen years she had pestered him about his lack of commitment.
    Eldon sighed a heavy sigh. “Beatrice,” he said, remembering that the