Home > The Billionaire's Touch (The Sinclairs #3)(18)

The Billionaire's Touch (The Sinclairs #3)(18)
Author: J.S. Scott

After reading his note, she shut down her computer. He had no idea that she lived outside of the city limits, and getting back in was more difficult for her than the average citizen of Amesport. She was actually starting to like his protective instinct. It was nice to know someone cared.

“Want to go for a ride?” Randi waved toward the door as she rose from her seat at the desk. Her dog vaulted up immediately, her tail wagging at the prospect of sitting on the ATV with her owner while she plowed out the driveway.

Randi smiled as Lily whined enthusiastically and ran for the outside door. Her pup knew what the word ride meant.

Trying to push all thoughts of Evan Sinclair from her mind, Randi got busy trying to accomplish her tasks before the weather got worse.

CHAPTER 5

“Tell me again exactly why we’re here?” Hope asked Evan as they passed down each aisle of the supermarket closest to the Peninsula. She was dropping things into the cart as Evan navigated it down the aisle with the junk food.

“Because you told me that Randi lives outside of town, and she might need supplies,” Evan answered his sister calmly, even though he’d explained himself several times. “There’s a second storm coming in, according to the weather report.”

What if she can’t get into town?

What if she lost power and she’s all alone out in the country?

What if she doesn’t have enough to eat?

Hope tossed a bag of chips and some dip into the cart, then stopped and propped her hands on her hips. “Since when would you care? I talked to Randi this morning to see if she needed anything, and she said she was fine. The power is still on, and she was getting ready to go out and clear the snow with her plow. She just mentioned possibly needing to come into town. She’s lived in Maine for over fourteen years, Evan. Believe me, Miranda Tyler knows how to get through snow.”

“Miranda?” Evan looked at Hope, confused.

Hope went back to throwing food in the cart. “Miranda is her full name, but everybody calls her Randi,” she clarified.

“She didn’t grow up here?” Evan asked casually. He’d always assumed that Amesport was her hometown.

He reached down and removed the chips and dip from the cart to put them back. It was pure junk, with very little nutritional value.

“Hold it!” Hope said firmly. “Put those back. You asked me to come here to help you pick out what Randi likes. Those are her favorites.”

Evan peered into the cart, frowning. “Does she eat anything healthy?”

Hope’s laughter rang out merrily in the crowded store. “Not often, and not much you would approve of. She’s a junk-food junkie, but she’s a runner, so she burns the calories as fast as she puts them in her mouth.” She snatched the items from Evan’s hands, dropped them back into the cart, and added some bagels.

“So her family moved here when she was an adolescent?” Evan knew he was digging for information, and so did his sister. Hope had been giving him perplexed looks ever since he’d asked her to leave the baby with Jason for a short time to help him go to the store.

He’d spent most of the weekend catching up with his family. Travel was easy within the Peninsula because they all lived in the same general area. They also had a plow on private contract, and the road and their driveways were constantly being cleared.

Micah had been right about baby David. He really wasn’t bald. The infant had very light hair, and he took after his dad . . . a lot. But Evan could see many of Hope’s features in the baby, too, and his heart had swelled with unexpected pride the first time he saw his new nephew. He wasn’t a man who thought much about babies, but David was one of their own, and his protective instinct had kicked into gear almost immediately after seeing the innocent baby. Evan knew he’d be busy in the years ahead making sure his nephew was on the right path. Not that he didn’t trust his sister and Jason as parents, but Hope hadn’t exactly picked a safe career choice. He wouldn’t interfere, of course, but he’d check in often on the first of the new generation of Sinclairs to see if his nephew needed . . . guidance. Technically, Evan knew David was a Sutherland, but it didn’t matter what his last name was; he had Sinclair blood and Evan considered him a Sinclair, his baby sister’s child and Evan’s first nephew.

Evan looked at Hope because she still hadn’t answered his question. His sister looked unusually disconcerted. He cocked an eyebrow at her and she looked at him carefully, as though she was contemplating how to answer.

Finally, she said carefully, “No. She wasn’t born here. Randi moved from California to Amesport when she was fourteen.”

“With her parents?” Evan didn’t think it was that unusual to change locations. People did it all the time for various reasons.

“With her new parents,” Hope admitted. “Randi was sort of a foster child to the Tylers.”

“Sort of?” How could somebody be “sort of” a foster child? They either were fostered or they weren’t, no matter how long of a time they remained with their foster parents.

Hope shrugged and gave Evan a pleading glance. “It’s Randi’s story to tell. I’ve told you what I’m comfortable revealing. The Tylers were elderly, but they gave her a good home.”

Her name is really Miranda.

Her foster parents were elderly, now most likely deceased.

She loves junk food.

Evan stopped walking abruptly, alarm bells screeching loudly in his mind. It couldn’t possibly be . . .

“Did she lose her foster mother recently?” Evan held his breath, his jaw clenched tightly. What were the chances?

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