Free The Comfort of Favorite Things (A Hope Springs Novel) by Alison Kent Page A

box.
    She brought it to her nose and breathed in, much as Lena had done with the sourdough round. She smelled the chocolate and the bite of the orange and a soft hint of vanilla and the barest edge of the whiskey. She wondered if Callum used Jameson, if the oranges were organic, the chocolate fair trade, the vanilla scraped fresh from a bean.
    Then she stopped thinking of anything but the expectant way Lena was looking at her and what it did to the big hole in her chest, and bit the candy in half. The chocolate sat on her tongue for several seconds and then began to soften, releasing the rest of the flavors as if in a tide. She closed her eyes and savored the combination that was sweet and bitter and tangy and oh-so-perfect as it swelled.
    Tears threatened and she forced them away. She could not appear weak. Not here. Not now. Not with this woman whom she already thought of as a friend, but who she could so easily imagine becoming more.
    Tucking the other half of the candy into the box to enjoy later, she looked up at Lena and said, “I can see why this is your favorite. It’s exquisite. Thank you.”
    Lena’s expression softened, as if she’d been worried about Ellie’s reaction, and then she said, “And thank you for the bread. I think I’ll have grilled cheese for supper.”
    “Good. Let me know if you enjoy it,” Ellie said, turning for the door, hoping that hadn’t been too forward but just enough of an opening for Lena to step through.
    “Sure thing,” Lena said, and Ellie smiled.

    Lost in thought, a mug of coffee held between his hands, Dakota didn’t look up at his sister’s approach until Indiana’s boot hit the bottom step of the three leading up to the cottage.
    His boots were on the second. His butt was on the edge of the porch. It was as far as he’d made it after forcing himself out of bed, into the shower, then to the kitchen and the coffeemaker. He should’ve been at work already, but he was beginning to wonder if he’d even make it today.
    He was on his second mug and still only half-awake. The hour had been close to five when he’d finally dozed off, and he was getting too old to survive on three of them a night. Not that the blue jay who claimed the branch closest to his window every morning at six gave a crap.
    At this rate, he wasn’t going to make it to forty. Neither would the bird.
    He lifted his drink. “There’s half a pot left in the kitchen. Still fresh.”
    “Tennessee called me last night,” was Indiana’s answer.
    Dakota wasn’t surprised. “Yeah? What did he call you?”
    She kicked the toe of his boot with the toe of hers. “He didn’t call me anything but he had a few choice names for you. And he told me some bullshit story about you leaving Hope Springs. Let me grab a cup and then you can tell me why Tennessee doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
    “Can’t wait,” he said, leaning to the side to give her room to pass. She took it, but shoved against him anyway. That had him grinning. He was really sorry he’d missed so many years of his sister’s life. His brother’s, too, but he’d known his brother better. His sister, fourteen when he’d gone to prison, had been a teen girl enigma.
    For the first five months after returning to Texas, Dakota had stayed in the three-story Victorian on the corner of Second and Chances with Tennessee’s family. He’d hated imposing, because no matter both his brother and Kaylie telling him he wasn’t, he knew better.
    Yes, the house was spacious. The first floor held Kaylie’s successful Two Owls Café, which meant people in and out half the day. Kaylie’s father Mitch Pepper, and his wife Dolly, were in and out, too. They did most of the cooking and cleaning while Kaylie took care of Georgia May.
    And that was the other thing. Dakota had arrived in Hope Springs the day Kaylie had given birth. Meaning she’d come home from the hospital with a new baby and a brother-in-law she hadn’t planned for. It hadn’t