“That smells so good.” Jackson smiled at her.

“We’ll have it warm with your choice of cheese melted on top or a scoop of ice cream.” Nessa’s heart threw in an extra beat, and her skin got all warm.

It’s just a smile, she scolded herself, and you are not in high school, so act your age.

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

April drove five miles under the speed limit and was still ten minutes early to her interview that morning at the Honey Hill Vet Clinic. When she had parked in front of the low redbrick building, her sweaty palms clamped the steering wheel of Nanny Lucy’s little compact car in a death grip. Even after it had been sitting out beside the house with a cover over it for six months, the smell of roses lingered in the vehicle. She could almost visualize Nanny Lucy sitting beside her with a disapproving look on her face.

You’re all excited about a job taking care of dogs and cats? Flynn has worked his way up to an office in some fancy oil business. Nessa is a schoolteacher. Her grandmother’s voice rang loud and clear.

“You told me that if I like a job and do it well, then I’m a success,” April muttered. “You liked quilting and cutting out pieces, and you were very successful.”

I didn’t have the chance to make something better of myself like you did, the voice in her head argued.

April shook it off, and with a racing heart, she turned off the engine and slowly opened the car door. She didn’t just want this job. She needed it. Sure, she still had money left from what the lawyer had given her, but it wouldn’t last forever.

She put her boots on the ground, and doubts flooded over her.

Should I have dressed up more? she worried as she smoothed the front of her shirt and sent up a silent prayer. She wouldn’t vow to be in church every time the doors opened like Nanny Lucy had done during the tornado, but she did tell God that she would be forever grateful if He could help her turn her life around.

She crossed the parking lot and reached for the doorknob, but before she could touch it, the door swung open and a short gray-haired lady motioned her inside. “You must be April. I’m Maude West, but my friends and neighbors all call me Maudie.” She stuck out her hand.

For a woman who just came up to April’s shoulder, she had a firm handshake. Her bright smile reached her crystal-clear blue eyes.

“I’m pleased to meet you. I didn’t bring a résumé. Jackson didn’t think I would need one. I’ve worked at many jobs, but never in a place like this.” April dropped Maudie’s hand. Was that the right thing to say?