Читать книгу Second Chance Courtship - Glynna Kaye - Страница 11

“Where’d you get this darling little thing, doll?”

“What?” Jerked from her Trey-troubled thoughts, Kara looked up from the breakfast table. Her mother, Sharon Dixon, stood in the kitchen doorway waving the Kenton girl’s pink mitten.

She must have dropped it when she’d hung her coat on the enclosed back porch last night. Or had Mom been rifling through her pockets for cigarettes or other incriminating evidence of misbehavior, just as she’d once caught her doing when Kara was a teen? She cringed inwardly at the memory, thankful that even though their relationship wasn’t always warm and fuzzy, they’d come a long way in the past decade. Or so she’d thought.

“Found it last night. Belongs to one of Pastor Kenton’s kids, so I’ll need to return it.” No need to divulge how she knew who it belonged to. Hopefully Mom wouldn’t ask.

“I may see Reyna this morning. If she’s back from the re treat.” Her mother spoke in the raspy fragments of a former heavy smoker. “Ladies’ tea at the church. I’ll take it to her.”

Over and over throughout the night Kara had waded through possible scenarios of returning it. Of using the opportunity to ask Trey’s forgiveness. But of course her mom could return the mitten. That made the most sense. She couldn’t face the child’s uncle again anyway. How could she apologize without telling him the truth? A truth that she wasn’t free to tell?

What am I going to do, God?

Her grip tightened on the fork in her hand. Why couldn’t stupid choices made in the past be left in the past? And why did she keep wasting her breath, crying out to the Heavens about it? Hadn’t she learned when Dad walked out that God had more important things to deal with than her?

Aware that Mom was watching with a curious tilt to her head, she set her fork on the stoneware plate and glanced out the paned windows of the cozy cinnamon-scented kitchen. A frosty blanket coated the towering ponderosa pines, lending the trees a holiday-ish flocked appearance. But she wasn’t in a holiday mood. A blustering gust shook the powderlike crystals loose, flinging them into the air and sending a fairy dust cascade earthward. Sleet pecked on the window above the sink.

She shivered. Why’d Mom always keep it so cold in the house? “Is someone picking you up for the church thing, Mom, or do you want me to drive you? I don’t want you walking in this. That wind’s nasty.”

“Peggy’s coming by. You should come with us.” Her mom brushed a hand through her layered auburn hair. “Lindi’s giving a talk on community service. I think it’s one of those ‘it’s not what Canyon Springs can do for you, but what you can do for Canyon Springs’ spins. I know she’d love to see you.”

Since returning to town she hadn’t heard a peep out of her once-upon-a-time friend and cousin, Lindi Bruce. Did she know Trey was back?

“Unfortunately, there’s nobody to cover for me.” She folded her napkin and placed it on the worn wooden table by her plate. “Meg’s visiting a hospitalized friend in Phoenix and won’t be back until this afternoon. Roxanne has out-of-town company and asked for the day off.”

“Then give Lindi a call next week. You haven’t had a chance to catch up with any of your friends. Been too busy taking care of your feeble old mom.”

“That’s what I’m here for, Feeble Old Mom,” she teased, then drained the last of her orange juice. “In case you’ve forgotten, if I wasn’t helping you I wouldn’t even be in town.”

Her mother’s lips tightened and Kara’s heart sank. She’d said the wrong thing again. If only she could get along with Mom as well as her friend, Meg McGuire, got along with her. Every time she saw them together, laughing and on the same wavelength, jealousy stabbed. But then, Meg was everybody’s sweetheart.

“Nevertheless,” her mother continued, “with Lindi running for city council, you have lots of catching up to do. She’s a dream candidate, even as young as she is—sure to give Jake Talford a run for his money. Her granddad’s about to pop his buttons. You two girls make your families proud.”

That was debatable.

She stood, then carried her plate and glass to the sink where she rinsed them off. The only time Mom was proud of her was when she was doing exactly what Mom wanted her to do. Like coming back to Canyon Springs.

She glanced at her watch. Seven-thirty. “Guess I’d better brush my teeth and head over to the Warehouse. With fresh snow, the more adventuresome types may look for outdoor activities. Maybe ski rentals will do a good business today.”

“We can hope. The recession’s lingering effects have hit the high country hard.”

Kara frowned. Her mother and an accountant in Show Low looked after the books for Dix’s Woodland Warehouse. Kara didn’t have a clue about anything on the business side of her mother’s store. “We’re doing okay, though, aren’t we? I mean, turning an adequate profit, right?”

Mom smiled. “Tightening the belt a bit. But don’t go worrying about that.”

“Well, you don’t need to be worrying about stuff like that either. Did you sleep okay last night? You look tired.”

While her mom had only turned fifty-six last month, she’d gradually put on excessive pounds through the years. Which led to borderline diabetes and knee damage, and put her on a walker on bad days. But she’d lost considerable weight in the aftermath of her November heart attack and no longer had the round, merry face all had grown accustomed to. When Kara returned at Thanksgiving, it had been like coming home to a ghost of her mother.

Which scared her.

“I’m fine, doll.”

“You have to be honest with me, Mom.” She folded her arms in an attempt to feel in control, when all she wanted was to slip into the comfort of her mother’s arms like she’d done when she was a little kid. Everything coming all at once— Mom’s illness, taking leave from her job, Trey’s return… It was too much. “If you’re not feeling well, we need to get you checked out before things get out of hand again.”

“I’m fine. Goodness knows you’re not letting me do anything around here.” Her mom chuckled. “Between both you and Meg helping, I’ve plumb become a lady of leisure.”

“Take it easy today, okay? Get some rest. Going to that tea isn’t a priority.”

“Does me good to see everybody. Laugh a little.”

She fixed a glare of mock reprimand on her parent. “Catch up on gossip?”

“Mercy me, at a church event?”

Laughing with Mom felt good. Why couldn’t it be like this between them all the time?

“Speaking of gossip—” She paused, preparing to ask if her mom was aware that Trey Kenton had returned to town. Then she thought better of it. Should her mother confess, it would only lead to an argument. “Never mind.”

If God had the time and inclination to take mercy on her, she’d be out of town in a couple of weeks and never have to see Trey again.

Trey kept his voice low as he spoke into his cell phone.

“Sure wish you’d stop talking about my love life in front of the girls, Reyna.”

His sister-in-law’s whoop echoed in his ear. “And what love life would that be?”

He pictured the wide smile of his brother’s pretty, plump wife. White teeth flashing in contrast to her creamy Hispanic skin tone, her dark eyes dancing. Not only lovely, but her husband’s number one fan, a great mom and a woman of deep faith. How’d his little brother rate such a catch? Must have extra pull in the heavenly realms.

“Very funny, Rey. But I’m serious.”

“Ooh, serious, huh?” She giggled. “As in you’re going to do what if I don’t stop?”

“If you want me to stay here like you keep saying you do, knock it off. Mary’s too young to be fixating on kissing and romance and marriage and stuff.”

“Kissing and stuff?” Reyna giggled again. “Were you dealing with birds and bees issues this week, Uncle Trey?”

Fighting a smile, he walked sock-footed across the cabin’s hardwood floor to the living room, then pulled back one of the insulated drapes. Still snowing. “Put Jason on, will you?”

His sis-in-law laughed again, then he could tell she’d covered the mouthpiece to bring his younger sibling up to speed. They were in Tucson for a pastoral retreat, enjoying cactus and warm sunshine. Lucky dogs.

“Yo, bro.” The voice of Jason Kenton, pastor of Canyon Springs Christian Church, greeted him. “Reyna giving you a hard time?”

Trey’s smile broadened as he continued to stare at the wind-shaken ponderosa pines. “Is there ever a time she doesn’t?”

“So, what’s up?”

“Just checking in. You still planning to get home tonight?”

“Last session’s over around noon. Hope to be home before dark.” Jason paused. “But we’re willing to stay another night if you’ll cover the worship service tomorrow morning. And devotions at the care facility in the afternoon.”

“Dream on, preacher man.” His brother had been on his case for months to take a more active role in the family “business.”

“Unless, of course, you think your congregation can ferret out a deeper meaning in a ridin’ and ropin’ demonstration.”

Jason chuckled, and Trey envisioned him scrubbing a hand alongside his neatly clipped beard, facial hair he’d grown in recent months in hopes of looking more mature.

“So, the girls behaving themselves this morning?”

“Still in bed.” Trey raked a hand through his sleep-matted hair. “Hey, while I have you on the line—I was wondering if you remember the name of a guy who was in your graduating class. The one with the big ears and funny laugh. Couldn’t even wait to get off school property before he’d pull out a cigarette and light up. Was always wanting to borrow my lighter.”

“Pete. Pete Burlene.” Jason paused for a moment. “Why? You think he’s the one?”

“Grasping at straws is more like it.”

“You know, Trey—” His younger brother let out a huff of air, then continued in his best pastoral tone that for some reason always irritated Trey. Even after four years in ministry in Canyon Springs, it remained a stretch for Jason to sound older and wiser than his twenty-eight years. “You have to ask yourself, bro, is it worth it? Worth getting tied up in knots trying to uncover the real culprit’s identity?”

“Look, Jason—”

“If this is what it’s going to do to you, maybe settling back in Canyon Springs isn’t the best move after all.” He lowered his voice. “In spite of what my wife thinks.”

Trey’s jaw tightened. Jason still didn’t get it. “I don’t think there’s any harm in trying to clear my name.”

“But look what it’s doing to you. And you’re no closer to finding out who left your lighter at the scene of that fire than when you first hit town. Face it. It’s been twelve years.”

“Every man needs a hobby.”

Jason scoffed.

“Look, Jas, injury cost me my livelihood. Then my new job brings me back here. You’re the one who’s always saying there’s no such thing as coincidence. Doesn’t it sound to you like God’s providing an opportunity for resolution? Justice?”

“’Fraid I can’t speak for the Man Upstairs on this one, dude.”

What he meant was he thought his big brother was chasing after something better left alone. Well, he could think whatever he wanted. He wasn’t the one locals looked at with suspicion. Nobody questioned his honesty. His integrity. They didn’t whisper behind his back.

“It’s a shame,” Jason continued, “that you were such a loner—and that our folks had taken me to Phoenix to catch a plane for that spring break mission trip. You didn’t have anyone to confirm you were nowhere near Duffy’s place when the property caught fire.”

Trey’s lips tightened. It didn’t do you any good to have a rock-solid alibi if your star witness refused to come forward.

“Well, Jas, I’ll let you get back to your retreat. I have to pick up my toys, then hit the shower before the girls wake up.” He glanced around at the cabin strewn with kid stuff. A diaper bag toppled on its side. Stuffed animals and dolls in various stages of dress piled on the sofa. Pint-size shoes and socks under the coffee table. Yesterday’s dishes still in the sink. How’d it get to be such a disaster in only three days?

Jason barked a laugh. “Why do I have a feeling the girls will have lots to tell us when we get home?”

Trey groaned. “Yeah, well, just remember you owe me one.”

“You got it, buddy.”

“Take it easy coming up the mountain. Snowing.”

“Will do.”

Trey shut off the phone and again stared out the window at the swirling, wind-whipped flakes, making no move to wrestle his surroundings to order.

He shook his head as memories he’d fought all night resurfaced. Kara Lee Dixon. If he wasn’t mistaken, she’d been as surprised to see him last night as he’d been to see her. Maybe more so. Hadn’t she known he was back in town? Not from the look on her face. The fear in her expressive eyes.

What did she think he’d do after all these years? Chew her out on a public street? Make a spectacle of himself in front of the girls? Call the cops? No, he’d long ago forgiven her.

He hadn’t handled their reunion well. Caught off guard, he’d been every bit as tongue-tied around her as he’d ever been as a teen. Practically threw Missy in the truck, then climbed in and hit the gas. That must have impressed the former girl of his dreams.

But like it or not, he and Kara needed to have a little chat.