Free The Doctor's Unexpected Family: (Inspirational Romance) (Port Provident: Hurricane Hope) by Kristen Ethridge

chatter—and he was pretty sure Mrs. Escobar said something about needing to fix him up with her granddaughter so she’d have a doctor in the family.
    Pete chuckled to himself. He could check Mrs. Escobar’s blood pressure, but for the other issues of the heart, she was on her own. A small twitch in his own heart came as he thought of Anna. He wasn’t getting fixed up with anyone. He’d loved and he’d lost.
    And he wasn’t ever planning on doing either again.

    Angela waved goodbye to Libby Rawlings, the city councilmember for East Provident who’d given her a ride back to Pete’s beach house. She couldn’t believe the sun was already starting to sink in the western sky, casting an intense orange glow on the water of Provident Bay down at the end of Pete’s street.
    A stillness hung in the air, and Angela breathed in deeply. Running from one meeting to another for the last twelve hours, she hadn’t felt still all day.
    And that was to say nothing of the restlessness in her soul. She had to get a plan together for a more permanent place for her and Celina to stay. Pete had been nothing but generous, but she wasn’t about to make him sleep out on his porch again, no matter what he said about his snoring.
    Oh, how she missed normal.
    But she’d missed her daughter today too. And while she couldn’t fix all the issues on the island, she could give her daughter a hug, and that would fix a lot of the unrest in her heart.
    Angela walked up the outside stairs, crossed the wide deck that made up the front of the house, then knocked on the door.
    “Mama!” As soon as the door cracked open, Celina wedged herself through the open space and threw her arms around Angela’s waist.
    “ Querida! ” Angela ruffled Celina’s hair as she greeted her with a favorite term of endearment. “It smells amazing in here. Is that spaghetti?”
    “It is.” Pete stood a few feet away, stirring a few shakes of dried oregano into a bubbling pot of tomato sauce.
    In the overhead light, Angela noticed a dash of gray running throughout Pete’s closely-trimmed hair. In all the hectic ups and downs of yesterday, she hadn’t really looked closely at Pete. She’d always been distracted, trying to do too many things at once. Part of dealing with the aftermath of a disaster and taking shelter in a makeshift refugee camp was that you didn’t notice details any more. Life became a task list. You checked one box and moved on to another.
    But right now, in her moment of slow sunglow and the peace she’d found in her daughter’s warm hug, Angela forced herself to press pause and take in the moment. Strictly on a connection between friends, this man had opened up his home and his kitchen to her little family. Community and compassion were alive and well in Port Provident, and this evidence of that fact gave her strength for the road ahead.
    “I really don’t know how I can thank you,” Angela said with simple gratitude.
    Pete put the lid back on the saucepan. “It’s just spaghetti. Not a big deal.”
    Angela wanted to say something more, but couldn’t think of a way to describe her gratitude in a way that didn’t come across as awkward.
    Then Celina began to tug on her hand and the moment passed. “Pete! Can we show her? Please?”
    “I have a feeling you’re not talking about pasta.” She tried to dislodge her hand from Celina’s excited, pinching grip. “What is it?”
    “I can’t tell you unless Pete says so. It’s a surprise.” Celina’s grip got stronger. If Pete didn’t give the green light, Angela feared she might lose her thumb.
    Pete clicked off both burners he’d been using on the stove. “Sure, kiddo. Celina and I worked at the church until after lunch time, and then we came back here and worked on a project together.”
    Celina began to drag her mother toward the door. “Come on, Mama!”
    She flung open the door, let go of Angela’s hand, and took off at a sprint across the deck and down the