Читать книгу Family Ties: Family Ties / Promise Of Grace - Bonnie Winn K. - Страница 11

Flynn couldn’t hold three hands at once. He tried, but one always slipped away. He’d taught the girls to hold each other’s hands so they wouldn’t get separated. But on days like today excitement outweighed caution.

They stood on the curving sidewalk that led to Cindy’s house. As they did, Flynn took a deep breath, wondering yet again if moving to Rosewood was a mistake. He’d almost turned the SUV back around a dozen times on the drive from Houston. It didn’t matter that the house was sold; he could find another place to live in Houston.

“Swing!” Alice exclaimed just then, pointing to the old-fashioned two-seater that was suspended from the tall rafters on the front porch.

“An’ flowers,” the softer-spoken Mandy added.

“Mommy flowers,” Beth chimed in, referring to the roses her mother had loved.

Flynn felt that subtle clutching of his heart—one that always followed mention of Julia. The girls spoke of her less and less often, their young memories fading already. Yet, each comment was a new wound. However, it was a wound of guilt—one that came from the reminder that he wasn’t thinking enough of Julia.

Flynn was appalled that he, too, was beginning to forget little things, that days passed with little or no thought of her. He wondered if the progression was normal, or if he was as unfeeling as his own mother had been.

The front door opened just then and Cindy stepped onto the porch.

“Cinny!” In unison, the girls shouted their name for her. Breaking away from him, they hurried up the sidewalk and then the wide steps. Reaching the porch, three compact bodies hurtled toward his sister-in-law.

Laughing, she caught them, exchanging huge hugs and kisses. “Hello, darlings! I thought you’d never get here!”

“Us here,” Beth replied, grinning.

“And you’re so tall,” Cindy continued. She cocked her head, studying them in mock amazement. “By next week you’ll all be as tall as me!”

The girls giggled madly.

“Uh-uh!” Alice protested.

“I don’t know,” Cindy teased, shaking her head. Then she reached down, picking up the toddler.

Immediately, the other two clambered to be picked up, as well. Still laughing, Cindy scooted over to the swing, reaching for the other two, lifting them up to sit beside her.

“Now there’s a picture,” Flynn told her as he neared the porch, realizing as he spoke it was true. Cindy looked as unaffected and natural as the triplets. It was a warm and fuzzy image that could have graced a magazine layout.

“Daddy sit, too!” Beth demanded.

But he shook his head as he bent automatically to kiss Cindy’s cheek.

The startled response in Cindy’s eyes surprised him. But then it seemed to surprise her, as well.

Cindy spoke quickly to fill the gap. “Why don’t we go inside and get you all settled in?”

“Swing!” Beth demanded when Cindy stood up.

Flynn plucked his daughter from the swing, preempting her demand. The more malleable Mandy moved toward the door without protest. Alice, somewhere between mild Mandy and belligerent Beth, seemed to realize it was best to comply, as well.

“Why don’t I show you where the bedrooms are?” Cindy told him as she led the way. “Let’s grab the girls and head upstairs.”

Flynn obliged, picking up Beth and Alice. Mandy was content to latch on to Cindy. Upstairs, Cindy pointed out the room she’d chosen for Flynn. Although small, it was the least feminine one in the house. And directly next to it, she led them into a large bedroom, outfitted with three kid-size beds and an overflowing toy chest.

Squealing, the girls wriggled free and hurried over to the new bounty.

Overwhelmed, Flynn stared at her. “Cindy, you shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble. This is too much.”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “I do a lot of volunteer work and I bring home kids all the time so I had a lot of stuff.”

“In threesomes?”

Cindy grinned. “Well, not exactly. But it wasn’t that difficult to do a little rearranging.”

He stared at the freshly painted pink walls, a captivating also newly painted mural, ruffled lace curtains and a newly upholstered window seat that matched the mural. “A little rearranging?”

“Okay. Guilty as charged. But I enjoyed doing it. And, really, cross my heart, I had the other kid paraphernalia.”

Despite her protests, gratitude flooded him. Julia had lavished attention on her children, but they’d sorely missed a woman’s touch since then.

“Look, Daddy!” Alice shouted, bringing him a bright pink-and-silver unicorn. The soft stuffed toy was toddler safe with no plastic eyes or nose for little ones to swallow.

He knelt down beside her. “That’s nice, baby.”

Happy with her treasure, Alice scooted away. Just as suddenly, Flynn felt exhausted. The past year had been an endless succession of trials and emotions. And now, without warning, Cindy had opened her life and home to them. It was as overwhelming as it was gratifying.

To his surprise, when he rose, he saw unexpected understanding in Cindy’s expression. But she didn’t comment on it. Instead, she smiled before turning to the triplets. “Okay, girls, we have tofu tacos for dinner. Who wants to eat?”

But the triplets were practically headfirst into the toy box.

“Probably should have told them about the tacos first,” Cindy mused. “No matter.” She glanced at Flynn. “Unless you’re hungry?”

“I’d kill for some coffee.”

She grinned. “You won’t have to get that drastic. I could use some myself. Why don’t we put up the safety gate at the top of the stairs and find our caffeine fix?”

“Won’t get any argument from me,” Flynn replied. But he made sure the safety gate was secure before he joined her in the farm-style kitchen.

He glanced around appreciatively. She had incorporated new appliances that resembled ones of yesteryear next to original freestanding cabinetry. She’d kept the integrity of the original structure, yet updated it enough to make it workable. He wondered what all the fronds of hanging dried herbs were for. Mixed among the bluish and sage green were also dried bouquets of roses and heather. It reminded him of a potently fragrant garden that had been preserved from past summers. “This is some kitchen.”

“Thanks. It’s one of my favorite rooms. I’m reworking them one at a time.”

“You’ve got a pretty big house, Cindy. Planning on filling it up soon?”

For a moment she froze, her hands filled with a pitcher and carton of cream. Then she laughed, a nervous sound in the otherwise relaxed kitchen. “What makes you ask?”

“Just a comment on your home. I didn’t mean to pry. Just thought maybe you were dating someone special.”

Her fingers clenched the handle of the pitcher before she relaxed enough to pour the cream. “You have a vivid imagination.”

“I thought maybe that was why you moved here.”

Suddenly breathless, she made a production of looking for the sugar. “Excuse me?”

“I couldn’t see any other reason for a young woman to move to the boonies. I thought it must be love.”

“Love?” she asked, her voice sounding strangulated.

“I am prying. Sorry.”

She fussed with the coffee cups, then added a plate of cookies to the tray before finally bringing it to the table. “No need to apologize.”

“Still, it’s a great house.”

Cindy smiled. “Anything newer or smaller cost a fortune. Not many people want to fix up these old painted ladies. This one needed a lot of gutting and repair. Not to mention horrendous utility bills that are eating into my trust fund.”

“You wouldn’t trade it for a new one,” he mused accurately, surprised to realize how much she seemed to fit with the charming old house.

“Nope. It’s drafty, always in need of fixing—and I love it.”

He accepted the coffee she offered, studying the rose pattern of the fine bone china cup and saucer. “No generic mugs for you.”

Her gaze followed his. “It’s one of my weaknesses—collecting china. But I only have one complete set. I collect orphaned cups and saucers—I must have twenty of them, each a different pattern.”

Flynn glanced at the other collectibles that lined her glass-fronted cabinets. “You like old things—antiques, I mean.”

“They have history. I like to imagine the people who once owned them.” She stared upward at the tall ceiling of the kitchen, then the original arched wooden-paned windows that brought the sunshine inside. “I couldn’t imagine living in a house that’s squeaky new, that hasn’t had time to develop character.”

“Like the one you convinced me to build,” he commented wryly.

She flushed suddenly, not a gentle blush, but a violent wave of color, a shortcoming that seemed to be a side effect of being a redhead. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean—”

But he dismissed her protest. “I know what you meant. And you’re right. This house suits you. I’m just not sure yet what suits me.” He’d known once, but everything about his life was uncertain now. Especially this move, the one that had him sitting next to her.

Compassion filled Cindy’s eyes. “You’ll know again, Flynn. It may not seem like it now, but you’ll find your way.”

“You sound remarkably certain.”

“It’s my faith,” she explained gently. “It makes me sure there’s a path for me. I might stumble now and then, but at the end of the day it’s always there.”

He nodded out of politeness, his own abandoned faith scarcely a bitter recollection.

Still, in comfortable silence they sipped the strong coffee and nibbled on buttery shortbread cookies.

Flynn cocked his ear, listening for the sounds of his daughters.

“I have a baby monitor,” Cindy remembered suddenly. “I’ll hook it up after dinner. In fact, it has enough units for all the bedrooms upstairs and one here in the kitchen.”

Quizzical, Flynn studied her face. “Why do you have a baby monitor?”

“As I said, I bring home kids now and then from my volunteer work. With a big old house like this, the monitor saves a lot of steps. One of the first little ones I brought home with me kept escaping from his crib. That’s when I discovered baby monitors. Of course, with that little curtain climber, I could have used an alarm system.”

An unexpected smile crossed Flynn’s face. “That bad?”

“Unequivocally. And, of course, to make matters worse, he was an absolute charmer, so I could never stay mad more than a few seconds.”

“That would be rough,” Flynn remarked.

“Especially when it was time for him to go home. The house was deadly dull and I didn’t get nearly enough exercise.”

A thud from upstairs echoed through the floorboards. “I have a feeling you won’t be lacking in exercise now.” He stood. “I’ll go check on them.”

Cindy watched him leave, feeling her heartbeat settle to a near-normal rate. At this pace, she’d be a wreck in less than a day. Watching everything she said, trying not to read something into his words…. Briefly she closed her eyes, masking the questions. But not the big one. Had she made a terrible mistake in agreeing to let Flynn stay in her home? Would he somehow discern her hidden feelings? And could her heart stand this constant assault?

Again she heard a few thuds overheard, then the clatter of many small feet on the wooden stairs. Rounding up the troops, she realized.

In moments, the girls scampered into the kitchen and many of her apprehensions faded. How could she not give everything in her power to them? They were Julia’s legacy, the only tangible link she had left. Little Mandy clutched Cindy’s leg and the last of her reservations melted even more. Whatever it took, she would help these girls. No matter what it cost her own heart.

The following day, Flynn used a few rocks to anchor the blueprints on a portable camp table. Rudimentary but effective. The breeze was light, yet it ruffled the rolled paper just enough to keep it out of alignment.

Cindy glanced at the papers, then at the lot Flynn had purchased. “Are you happy with them? The architect drew up the plans awfully fast.”

His gaze remained on the lot, but he didn’t look especially pleased. Instead it was a contemplative expression. “Rand Miller’s a friend. And he put together the complex for my insurance company.”

“Does he design homes, too?”

“Usually bigger ones than I’m planning, but yes. He’s doing this one as a favor to me.”

“Has he seen the lot?” Cindy asked, her eyes on the triplets who seemed determined to pull up all the wild buttercups scattered across the field grass.

“We took a ride out here before he drew up the plans. Luckily, Linda showed me this lot first—so it didn’t take any time to decide.”

“The view’s good,” Cindy mused, appraising the gently knolled lot. “Are you planning to put the house at the top of the little hill?”

Flynn nodded. “That’ll make the best use of the plans. I want a lot of windows—so many, it looks as though the walls are made of glass. Which works out well since I’m going to have a solar energy system.”

Cindy pointed to the drawing of the roof. “This looks kind of unusual.”

“Good eye,” Flynn replied. “That’s a cooling pool. With all the brush out here in the fields, there’s a higher fire risk. The pool will keep the roof from catching a stray spark.”

“Hmm.”

Enjoying her polite but puzzled expression, Flynn laughed. “You don’t sound convinced. It’s not only for safety. We can swim in the pool, as well.”

“Ah…” Politeness gave way to pleasure, softening her face in an unexpectedly attractive way.

Not that she wasn’t already pretty…. Flynn felt his thoughts jerk in surprise. He’d always known what an attractive woman she was, but that had never mattered in the past. Not when Julia was alive. And because he and Cindy were all wrong for each other, it could never matter in the future.

“You’ll be glad of that in the summer,” Cindy was saying, her smile nearly as bright as her blazing hair.

“What’s that?” he replied, distracted by the wash of unpleasant memories.

She drew her brows together as she glanced at him in quizzical surprise. “That you can swim in the pool.”

“Oh…Yes.”

But Cindy didn’t seem to think his mental detour was significant. “The kids should love it.”

His expression mellowed. “I want to build swing sets and a playhouse, too, make the house a place they want to be.”

Cindy’s smile was at once tender yet nostalgic. “You’re a good father, Flynn.”

But he couldn’t easily accept the compliment. “I spent a lot of time away from them when they were babies. Julia was so competent. She and the girls were a perfect unit. It didn’t seem as though she really needed me to be there.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Flynn realized they were true. He’d never verbalized this vague feeling and it both surprised and embarrassed him that he’d made the confession to Cindy.

“Perhaps it just seemed that way,” she suggested gently. “The way our parents died changed Julia forever. You know she blamed it on their incurable zest for adventure.” Cindy paused, her expression reflective. “And I always felt that was why she became so efficient and capable. So much so that she no doubt thought taking charge of the girls was good for both of you. And she probably didn’t realize she was radiating such a self-sufficient image.”

“Maybe,” Flynn acknowledged, not completely buying the explanation. Cindy was right about their parents. Julia had confided early on that’s why she wanted stability and security, but it didn’t explain shutting him out. “I should have seen past that, made sure I was involved in raising my own children.”

Cindy moved a bit closer. “The important thing is that you’re here for the girls now. As difficult as this sounds, they probably don’t remember any of that earlier time.”

He nodded glumly, suspecting it wouldn’t be long before they lost all memory of their mother.

“Oh, Flynn! You don’t think they’ll forget their mother, do you?” Cindy exclaimed, obviously only that very moment realizing they could forget Julia.

But he couldn’t find any glib reassurances to offer. “I’ve worried about it. Even now, they speak of her less and less often.”

Dismayed, Cindy stared at him, tears misting her vivid green eyes, as she brought one hand to her mouth.

Flynn moved closer, his fingers closing around her arm. “Between us they’ll remember.” It was as much a promise as a resolution. A promise born of one he’d made long ago.

“She loved them so much,” Cindy murmured. “They have to know that.”

“They’ll see it in you,” Flynn told her, the response surprising both of them.

Cindy’s chin lifted, her eyes meeting his. “They will?”

“They’ve held an attachment to you that’s remarkable, considering how young they are, how seldom you used to see them. I can’t help but think it’s your connection to their mother.”

Slowly, almost painfully, Cindy nodded. “There was a time when Julia and I were so close, we used to imagine we were twins.”

Flynn frowned, the words giving him weighty pause. “You never seemed much alike to me.”

A smile rose from the pain on her face. “Probably not to anyone else. We don’t look anything alike—I’m the only renegade redhead besides my grandmother. And I’m as boisterous as Julia was refined, but it was something deeper. A connection in our souls. And that only strengthened after our parents died.”

“But you didn’t visit all that often. And you moved away from Houston,” he pointed out, wondering yet again about his elusive sister-in-law, remembering how he’d shut out any thoughts of her once Julia was his.

Cindy turned, her gaze fastening on the gently winding road that was nearly obscured by the great tracts of irrepressible wild grass. Her open expression didn’t slam shut; rather it sidled away so subtly, he wondered if he imagined the change.

“People grow up and away,” she finally answered. “Distance need not be more than a physical impediment. I don’t think it was for us.”

“She missed you,” Flynn admitted. “Especially since you were the last of your family.”

Pain vaulted past subtlety, ravishing her face. “I had no idea.”

“Don’t take the words to heart. But you should know how she felt, how she always valued your relationship.” He couldn’t admit that Cindy’s absence from their lives had been a relief to him. Flynn hadn’t needed or wanted reminders of what she represented, of what he had tried to escape every day since childhood.

Despite his reassurance, only a sparse bit of comfort mixed with the trepidation painting her face. “I should have visited more. I shouldn’t have let…”

“What?” he asked, when her words trailed away.

She brushed a tear from the corner of her eye, then shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Did you have an argument?” Flynn asked, wondering how he could have not known that.

“No.” For a moment her face brightened. “Julia wouldn’t have allowed it. Besides, she was my other half. Surely you’ve noticed that we were complete opposites?”

The fact that Cindy was her sister’s opposite in every way was still Cindy’s biggest downfall in his opinion, the reason he’d chosen Julia over her, yet he nodded.

“We seemed to complete what the other lacked. And I feel like my other half’s gone forever.” Suddenly she looked horrified. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I keep putting both feet in my mouth and tromping around like they’re clad in combat boots. I’m so sorry. You truly have lost your other half.”

“No need to apologize. We both lost her.” His gaze moved to include the girls, who were tossing wildflowers skyward, then giggling madly as the blossoms fell down upon them. “We all did.”

“Children are so resilient,” Cindy mused. “It’s one of the ways the Lord protects them.”

Flynn lifted his eyebrows but he didn’t respond, thinking it wasn’t worth arguing over. His own faith was long gone, and he still believed it wasn’t something Cindy would be spouting for long. “Hmm.”

But Cindy didn’t argue in defense. Instead, the expression in her eyes was so knowing and certain it defused any debate. At once, Flynn felt old defenses lock into place.

As his thoughts rumbled, he spotted the girls as they started running toward the road. Even though only a handful of cars had passed in the last hour, Flynn and Cindy both bolted after them. It didn’t take long to corral the children.

“All right, girls, you know better than to run toward the road,” Flynn began in a stern tone.

But the girls laughed as they jumped up and down, cutting off his reprimand.

Since where they stood was still plenty of distance from the street, Flynn tried not to overreact.

“Cows!” Alice hollered, pointing across the road.

Glancing up, Flynn saw a mild-mannered herd of dairy cattle munching on the grass. “So that was the attraction,” he muttered.

“You have to be wary of small-town dangers,” Cindy agreed in a serious tone. But the twinkle in her eyes gave her away.

“They do look pretty ferocious,” Flynn replied, seeing the cattle’s only movement was the swishing of hairy tails and the methodical chewing of cud.

A tiny giggle escaped even though Cindy was clearly trying to keep it under control. “We have some wild ice-cream socials here in town, too. Gotta be on your guard all the time.”

Flynn glanced down the empty road. “I can see that. There might even be a horse or two in the next pasture over.”

“Horsie!” Beth and Mandy repeated in delight.

“Cow!” Alice insisted.

“Just wait until a new movie comes to town.” Cindy couldn’t repress her grin. “The excitement’s enough to do you in.”

“I think for now the horses and cows will keep us entertained.”

Cindy’s expression was knowing and skeptical. “We’ll talk in six months when the biggest action in town is the fall carnival.”

“I haven’t been to a carnival since I was a kid.” The thought was unexpectedly warming. But Flynn knew what Cindy was driving at. Clearly she thought he would grow tired of small-town life, that Rosewood would lose its appeal. But everything else that had once held appeal for him was now gone. Yet instinctively he felt that the tiny town was right for him. Was it possible he’d been given another chance? Another place to call home?