Mountain Sanctuary Read Online Free Page A

father here to guide him. And in spite of her own bent toward wanting to paint pretty pictures on everything from benches to teacups, Stella had to be practical and sure. She had to work to get this place back up and running. For Kyle’s sake. She wanted to be the one to take care of her son, not the other way around.
    Kyle had a keen sense of responsibility. Her father called him an old soul. But Stella didn’t want him to miss out on just being a child. She’d had to grow up too quickly in order to take care of her mother at times. Kyle wouldn’t have to do that.
    And that meant she certainly wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth and turn him away. Adam Callahan had offered to help out. Stella, being practical in spite of her artistic side, aimed to take him up on that offer. Just as soon as she explained things to her father and her son, of course.

     
    Adam heard laughter. Maybe he was dreaming, but the sound brought him a kind of gentle peace. The laughter floated through his subconscious mind, reminding him of lazy days spent fishing with his father and brothers out on the bayou, of time spent riding the big boat out on Lake Pontchartrain, good times. Happy times. Laughter.
    He woke with a start, wondering where he was. He was hot and sweaty, his brow wet, his pulse pounding. Lifting his head, he slowly glanced around the darkened room, his gaze taking in the shiny mahogany armoire, the old-fashioned washstand with the white bowl and pitcher, the four-poster bed with the soft, fresh sheets and the rose-quilted cover. Sanctuary.
    He was at the Sanctuary House Inn in Hot Springs, Arkansas. Hundred of miles away from New Orleans. A million miles away from his past. Had he come far enough?
    Adam got up and took a long shower, enjoying the soft spray as he reminded himself to check the pressure later. The old claw-foot bathtub was respectable, even if it was ancient, but the shower could use a few tweaks. Maybe he’d install one of those fancy newfangled showerheads. That would certainly be a plus for guests.
    He got dressed, his mind already at work as he made a mental note of all the things he’d noticed around this place that needed to be fixed. Shutters that needed to be repaired and repainted. Porch steps that needed to be straightened and steadied. Rugs cleaned, trees trimmed.
    He was already out in the hallway across from the dark paneled library when it hit him that somehow in the space of about six hours and several sweet dreams, he’d made a commitment to a place he didn’t even know. And to a woman he surely didn’t even begin to understand. Not a good idea. Not good at all. What if things became all tangled, like the ivy vine growing down on the sign post? He might just have to tell Stella that he’d changed his mind, that he couldn’t stay after all.
    But then, Adam came down the steps leading to the back gardens and stopped, his heart slamming against his chest, his breath halting in his lungs as he watched the scene playing out before him.
    Mr. Clark sat in an old rusty wrought iron lawn chair, gently rocking it back and forth, while Stella and Kyle laughed and moved around in the un-mowed wildflower clusters at the back end of the long, wide yard. They were playing ring-around-the-rosy. The afternoon sun surged around them like a halo, all bright and white and piercing. Kyle looked up, giggling, as his mother held his hands, skipping in a circle with him, her long, bright hair falling down toward the floral skirt of her dress. Stella threw her head back, laughing, teasing, while Kyle squealed with delight as they swirled faster and faster in the red clovers and tiny wild onion flowers, daffodils and black-eyed Susans frolicking in the wind right in step with them.
    Adam held on to the porch rail, his eyes tightening against the too-bright swell of emotions filling his insides. Once long ago, he’d dreamed of just such a picture in his own life. But his job had eaten away at any intimacy, any