A Path Less Traveled Read Online Free

meant for someone a little less healthy
than me.”
    Trish rolled her
lips together to contain a smirk. “You think?”
    Andy assumed a
cocky stance. “You’re making fun of me after I spent all afternoon helping
you?”
    “You mean helping
me re-do—”
    He held up his
hands, the jacket sleeves near his elbows. “Okay, okay, don’t remind me.” Andy
tugged at the collar of the shirt. “I think the tux will work, except for
cutting off my air supply.”
    Relief spilled
from Steve’s eyes. “You’ll do it then?”
    “Of course.” He
spoke as if there’d never been a doubt.
    “Thanks, pal. I
owe you.” Steve slapped him on the back. “I’d better pass the news on to Dani
before she hyperventilates.” He strode from the room with a happy whistle.
    Trish smiled her
appreciation. “Another crisis averted, thanks to you.”
    “Just remind me
not to bend over tomorrow, or we’ll have an even bigger crisis on our hands.”
He winked and disappeared through the doorway.
    Trish laughed and
busied herself with preparing the room. She emptied the plastic grocery sacks
she’d dropped off earlier, set water and soft drinks on one counter, and
arranged the snacks in a separate location. The door creaked, and she whirled
around as Andy sauntered over to view her work. “You never stop, do you?”
    The soft tone of
his voice flustered her, but she ignored the feeling and returned to her task.
“Who has time to stop?”
    Andy laid an arm
across her busy hands. “You do. Did you stop long enough to eat supper?”
    Trish frowned.
“Does fixing a plate count?”
    “No.” He steered
her out the door and down the fluorescent-lit hallway. “I can tell I’m going to
have to keep an eye out for you, lady.”
    “I can take care
of myself.”
    “Um-hmm.” His
tone held doubt. “I’m sure you can, but will you?” Back in the parlor, Andy
guided her to the table, pulled out a metal folding chair, and motioned for her
to sit. Then he grabbed another chair, straddled it backwards, and rested his
chin on one fist.
    A creamy pile of
mashed potatoes beckoned from her plate. She stuffed a forkful in her mouth and
closed her eyes in rapture. Mama Beth made the best mashed potatoes in all of Texas—even if they were now cold.
    “How long since
you’ve eaten—two weeks?” Andy’s eyes held a bemused twinkle.
    “I had
breakfast.” She opted not to elaborate.
    “Today?”
    Trish glared.
“Yes, today.” She stuck another bite of potatoes in her mouth and swallowed,
already revived. “Are you going to sit there and stare at me while I eat?
‘Cause I’m pretty sure it’s not good for my digestion.”
    Andy’s cheeks
dimpled in a way that made her insides churn. “I promise not to stare if you promise
to eat all that food before you head down to the sanctuary for the rehearsal.”
He pointed to the plate to emphasize his words.
    She raised her
gaze to the ceiling and sighed. “All right. Now go pester someone else so I can
eat in peace.”
    He stood, whirled
the chair around to scoot it under the table, and moved a few feet away where a
group of men congregated.
    She basked in the
momentary opportunity to relax, but also did a quick check of the room to
locate Little Bo. He stood nearby with Dad and J. C., so she returned her focus
to Andy. Completely relaxed, he chatted like he’d known these people his entire
life. The return to Miller’s Creek must be difficult for him considering the
false accusations leveled at him during his first stay. Within her, interest
and admiration arose as he relayed a story, the dimple on his left cheek
winking. He finished his tale, and the men around him burst into laughter.
    Mama Beth hurried
past again. “Trish, dear, don’t forget about the tea.”
    Trish huffed out
a sigh, shot an acidic arrow into the imaginary bull’s eye on the older woman’s
retreating back, and made a move to stand.
    Andy caught her
attention with a stern shake of his head. “Got it. You eat.” He