Читать книгу Rekindling The Widower's Heart - Glynna Kaye - Страница 11
ОглавлениеDaddy. The next morning when she crawled out of her sleeping bag in the loft, Delaney was still chiding herself for being surprised her new landlord was a parent. Luke was older than her and an attractive, seemingly nice man. It wouldn’t be unexpected for him to have been in a serious relationship. To have a kid.
But the no ring thing had thrown her off.
Was he a widower? Divorced? Either could account for the apparent sadness she’d glimpsed earlier in his eyes—a look that evaporated with the arrival of Chloe.
Even now, chatting on the phone with her closest friend early Sunday evening while awaiting the arrival of the youth group, Delaney couldn’t stop thinking about Luke Hunter. About how he’d scooped the squealing child into his arms with a smile that transformed his already handsome features. Brought him to life.
“Actually, I’m not too swamped with wedding preparations to keep me from popping over to see your new place.” Paris Perslow’s voice carried over the phone with a surprisingly carefree lilt for someone who was only weeks away from her wedding day. Most brides were a bundle of nerves at this point. “Like I said, we’re keeping things simple, which is why you’re my only attendant this time. Too bad Cody’s best man is married.”
“Believe me, that’s for the best.” Delaney’s relationship with coworker Dwayne Moorley, like her job in Sacramento, had expired only weeks ago. This morning when drying her hair, she’d firmly reminded herself that although the outcome of their time spent together the past two years was disappointing, another unforeseen loss in her life, she wouldn’t look back. In retrospect, she’d stayed in the relationship much too long, for reasons she was only now coming to fully understand.
“You’re well rid of that guy,” Paris continued as if reading her thoughts, ever loyal since a grieving Delaney, several years her junior, had arrived in Canyon Springs all those years ago. “He’s way too controlling, thinking it’s up to him to not only run his life, but yours, too. I’m beyond relieved you’ll be my maid of honor without him showing up in my wedding photos.”
“I, too, am delighted to save you from that blot on your special day.” Delaney restlessly rose from the borrowed sofa to peep out a street-facing window where the sun cast lengthening shadows across the road. Movement caught her eye and hope sparked as she angled for a closer look. Was that activity in front of the Hunter Enterprises office? Yes. But, unfortunately, no one she knew. Only a handful of people who’d paused outside to visit.
She hadn’t so much as caught a glimpse of Luke since he’d left with his daughter on Thursday. At their agreed-upon time Friday afternoon, two young men identifying themselves as cousins of Luke arrived with a pickup truck, offering an apology on his behalf.
How silly to be disappointed at the substitution. She was too old for crushes. Besides, even if Luke was a free agent, so to speak, an eight-year-old came with the package. So it was just as well.
“You are getting your jewelry into the Hunter Ridge Artists’ Co-op, aren’t you?”
Paris’s words drew her back to the present. “It’s not a sure thing. I have an appointment on Monday to present samples of my work. So say a prayer that they’ll like what they see.”
“They will. I absolutely love the earrings you made for me.”
“I know Hunter Ridge’s art community is small, not anything like Sedona, Jerome or Santa Fe, but if I can get my foot in the door here, it’ll be a start. Hopefully, one that will encourage Aunt Jen to see my artistic leanings in a more positive light.”
“I saw her at church this morning.” Paris’s words came cautiously. “I don’t think she looks well.”
“I don’t think she does, either. But she insists she’s fine and is mad at me for taking the church position so I can stick around in case she needs me. She says the longer I’m unemployed, the more unemployable I’ll become.”
Which might well be true. But when her parents, widowed grandmother and younger sister had been killed in a car accident, her childless aunt and uncle had opened their home to her. Not too many years later, Uncle Del died in a boating accident, so how could she not be there for her aunt now?
“Well, I think you’ve made the right decision, Delaney. She’s obviously not her usual self.”
When the conversation ended with a reiteration of Paris’s promise to visit soon, Delaney pocketed her cell phone and returned to the seating area. She had things remaining to be unpacked, but the open space now held a welcoming touch with soft lamplight and fat flickering candles rowed up on top of the woodstove. She’d arranged comfy, oversize throw pillows around the area for additional seating and, keeping the teenagers in mind, subs, chips and veggie sticks were on the coffee table.
Her introduction at the church service had gone well. Or at least she assumed so since no one had booed or thrown rotten eggs as Luke had led her to anticipate. But he and his daughter were nowhere to be seen that morning.
She straightened a stack of napkins, then stepped back to look around the room. She already loved this place, the openness of it and the way the sun shone through a fixed window at the front, above the porch. How the ponderosa pine branches cast moving shadows across the polished wooden floor.
Would the kids enjoy coming here?
And how would they respond to the annual summer project she’d chosen for them? With the help of Lois Grant, the women’s ministry leader at the church, and a thumbs-up from Pastor McCrae, she’d quickly committed to an undertaking that was already near and dear to her heart. One that without a doubt had God’s seal of approval, too.
“Delaney?”
With a sense of anticipation, she turned as the pastor of Christ’s Church and a handful of teens stepped through the door. Introductions were quickly made. Brothers Kendrick and Nelson Bennett, both redheaded and freckle-faced, towered over her though they were probably not much older than sixteen. Curly-haired Sybil, her eyes rimmed in black as dark as her obviously colored tresses, wandered the room with interest, and “Scottie” Scott, a petite brunette with a pixie haircut, immediately made herself at home as well.
But Anna—a ponytailed, tomboyish-looking blonde dressed in well-worn Levi’s, a striped knit top and Western boots—hung slightly back. Unlike the other teenage girls, her face was devoid of makeup but, nevertheless, a natural prettiness was clearly evident. Hunter, she’d said her last name was. Could half the town be somehow related?
Fifteen minutes later, when the group grew to a dozen teenagers chatting and meaningfully eyeing the food, Garrett clapped his hands to draw their attention.
“Let’s give God thanks and dig in.”
A murmur of agreement rippled among the young people and, following Garrett’s prayer, they loaded their plates.
That’s when she saw them in the doorway.
Without a doubt they were father and son, although the younger’s darker hair, parted in the middle, lay in unruly layers down to his shoulders. As tall as his father standing beside him, the lankier, sullen-eyed teen brushed by the older man to saunter over to the seating area where he plopped down on the couch beside Scottie. Bare legs outstretched from his baggy, below-the-knee shorts and feet encased in leather sandals, he cast his father a you-can-leave-any-time-now stare. Then he deliberately slid his arm around the girl next to him and pulled her close.
Scottie giggled.
“Delaney.” Luke leveled a meaningful look on the boy, who she guessed to be sixteen or seventeen. “I’d like you to meet my son, Travis.”
The teen gave her a cursory nod of acknowledgment before reaching for a sandwich.
Luke frowned, then motioned to the pretty tomboy glaring at Travis. “I assume you’ve already met my daughter, Anna.”
Delaney steadied herself with her hand to the back of a chair. Luke had three kids, not one? And two of them were teenagers?
The girl who’d earlier identified herself as a Hunter gave Delaney a reassuring smile, almost as if determined to make up for her older brother’s dearth of manners. Delaney didn’t see much resemblance between father and daughter. She must take after her mom.
Garrett made a sweeping motion toward the coffee table. “Help yourself to a sandwich, Luke. Delaney’s put out quite a spread here.”
Luke’s querying gaze met hers as if seeking permission—and maybe forgiveness for his son’s behavior?
She nodded encouragingly. “There’s more than enough.”
“Thanks.” A barely-there smile surfaced, causing Delaney’s heartbeat to skip. He looked especially attractive tonight in jeans and a blue T-shirt that not only matched his eyes but emphasized an unquestionably athletic frame. Thank goodness he’d eat and be on his way so she could keep her mind on the youth group business at hand.
Luke filled his plate, then settled on the floor between Nelson and Kendrick. But even after everyone had devoured most of the food, and Garrett’s short devotion set the tone for an evening of Bible study, discussion and board games, Luke didn’t seem in any hurry to depart.
To Delaney’s surprise—and irritation—he didn’t.
* * *
His son had outdone himself. He hadn’t wanted to come, but Luke had insisted. Understandably, Travis was disappointed that the male college student slated for the summer had pulled out at the last minute. But there was no excuse for what he was doing tonight.
Delaney had graciously overlooked his behavior. But he could tell by her earlier almost nervous glances around the group as she’d tried unsuccessfully to encourage the sharing of personal experiences and spiritual challenges that his son’s conduct had in many ways set the tone for the evening. He was a popular kid, one who the others looked up to. Despite the buoyant enthusiasm Delaney brought to the mix, if Travis decided youth group was no longer cool, well, it wasn’t going to be cool to anybody else, either.
Then again, maybe Delaney wasn’t a good fit. He glanced across the room where she’d returned from the kitchen with another supply of snacks. With Garrett called away, she was trying to get the attention of the now-laughing, chatting gathering of young folks setting up board games and paying her little attention.
A jolt of sympathy—and irritation—shot through him.
While Travis played a role in the evening’s debacle, this was his cousin’s fault. Garrett had allowed Delaney’s bright smile and pretty face to sway his decision-making in selecting a replacement for the college intern. She was young and inexperienced and it was apparent that the kids, following Travis’s lead, didn’t view her as an adult leader.
But whoever’s fault it was, he’d had enough of this.
His piercing whistle sliced through the high-ceilinged room, startling the kids into silence. They turned as one, eyes rounded, to his uncompromising glare. Then he gave a brisk nod toward the equally wide-eyed woman who was all but staring at him openmouthed, a flash of fire lighting her eyes.
She was mad at him?
“I think,” he said, dismissing her reaction as he carefully looked at each young person present, “that Ms. Marks has something to say to you.”
Cowed—except for Travis who cast him a disgruntled look—they all looked at her.
Standing before them, almost as if in front of a firing squad, she made an apologetic motion, the rings on her fingers catching the light.
“I... I won’t interrupt your games long. I want to tell you a bit about the annual project the youth group will be doing this summer.” A tentative smile touched her lips as she looked hopefully from face to face for signs of interest. But she avoided his gaze. “High Country Hope Ministries has the opportunity to move one of their disadvantaged families into larger accommodations, enabling a family that’s been forced apart this past year to be reunited in a single dwelling.”
“Cool,” one boy chimed in, then popped a potato chip into his mouth.
“Yes, it is cool.” Delaney’s eyes now danced with excitement, the uncertainty replaced with an attractive glow. “And it’s even cooler because we can help make that happen. The new property needs sprucing up—cleaning, interior painting, yard work and minor repairs.”
Travis groaned and his girlfriend, Scottie, elbowed him.
Luke would be having a long talk with his son as soon as the opportunity presented itself.
“Their lease on the current property ends August thirty-first,” Delaney continued, ignoring Travis, “but if we can help them make that move to the new place before the first of August, their current landlord—who has other plans for the property—will see that not only is Hope Ministries’ deposit and August rent refunded, but they’ll receive a bonus for vacating a month early.”
“What will they do with the extra money?” Leave it to Anna, his resident penny-pincher, to ask that kind of question.
“The refunded rent will go toward paying winter heating bills for the family and others. And the bonus...” Delaney looked around the circle of faces. “Will go to your youth group.”
Kendrick sat up, suddenly interested. “We get the money?”
“For camp scholarships,” Delaney was quick to clarify. “Or something along those lines to be decided by the church. But even more important than the money, our reward will be helping this family—father, mother and five children—live under one roof again.”
“Five kids?” Travis leaned forward, pinning Delaney with a sharp look. “Don’t tell me this house is for the Masons. That oldest kid of theirs is a real jerk. It was good riddance when he went to live with his loser dad last year.”
Travis wasn’t exaggerating. The same age as fifteen-year-old Anna, the Mason boy had been nothing but trouble. And “loser” wasn’t an entirely inappropriate term for the kid’s father, although Travis shouldn’t have publicly called him that.
Lizzie Mason and her husband Benton were artsy types who’d settled here a few years ago. Working part-time jobs and selling their handcrafted wares, by their own choosing they’d not had an easy time of it and too often looked to others for assistance. Last summer Luke had an unpleasant run-in with Benton about delinquent rent on a commercial property and again the following autumn regarding Benton’s son. Then came the drunk driving episode that resulted in injuries that put Benton out of work and into physical therapy and alcohol rehab.
Delaney had committed the youth group to a project helping people like that? Rewarding people who’d made no effort to take responsibility for their lives? Not a good idea.
Delaney hesitated now, as if unsure how to respond to Travis’s question about the project family. “I believe...the name is Mason. The youngest is a twelve-year-old-girl.”
A few kids groaned.
Travis flopped back on the sofa, arms folded. “I’m not helping any Masons.”
A few kids laughed, but Scottie gave him a frosty look. “I think it’s a good project. Samantha is a nice little girl. She can’t help it that her father gets drunk.”
“I agree,” Sybil chimed in. “Cleaning and painting won’t take that much of our time. We’re supposed to help people in need, aren’t we? And don’t forget, the youth group gets the bonus money.”
Several others nodded agreement.
But this project seemed destined for failure. Surely there were other worthy projects to pick from. Off the top of his head, he could think of several.
“We can talk about it further when I have more detailed information to share.” Delaney gave Travis a look, as if expecting him to spout off again. “So I’ll let you return to your activities now.”
For a few silent minutes Delaney watched them settle back in to their board games, then headed to the kitchen. Grabbing the opportunity to speak with her in private, Luke joined her a few minutes later. When he rapped his knuckles on the door frame, she glanced up from the sink where she was rinsing dishes with a vengeance, then dried her hands on a dish towel, her eyes questioning.
Unexpectedly, his breath caught as the light glinted off the soft waves of golden hair. She’d pulled it off her forehead with a tiny green ceramic frog clip, and her peach-colored cotton top, adorned with embroidered butterflies, complemented her coloring and those beautiful hazel eyes.
“Is there something I can help you with, Luke? More snacks? Ice? Lemonade?”
“No, no. The food was great. Plentiful. Exactly what kids that age enjoy most.”
She nodded as if relieved. “Good.”
He leaned a shoulder against the refrigerator and studied her for a moment, not sure how to begin. “Actually, I want to apologize for Travis’s behavior this evening.”
Surprise flickered through her eyes.
“He’s usually a laid-back kid, easy to get along with. But something got into him tonight and we’ll be having a talk when my temper cools.”
She stared down at the floor for a moment, almost as if counting to ten, then back up at him. “Don’t be too hard on him. You were right about what you’d mentioned the other day. Some of the kids, especially the boys, are disappointed that the original summer intern bailed.”
“That’s no excuse for discouraging the others from participating in this evening’s planned activities. He basically shut down discussion.”
She raised a delicate brow. “I’m not sure that it was entirely Travis’s fault.”
As he’d suspected, she was taking the blame. “Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
Her eyes widened. “I’m not—”
He held up his hand to stay the apology forming on her lips. “Tonight’s behind us, tomorrow’s a clean slate. But I do believe more thought needs to be given to your choice of summer projects.”
A crease formed between her brows. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “You’re new to town. You don’t know the history behind the Masons. Benton’s an artist whose last drunk driving episode got him thrown out of the house. Lizzie’s trying to make a go of candle making and textile design, but why she insisted on staying here alone with four of the five children is beyond me. And now it sounds as if her husband and oldest son intend to come back to town, too. But Lizzie and Benton need to get their artsy heads out of the clouds, relocate and find real jobs.”
“It’s my understanding,” Delaney said quietly, “that she’s holding down several jobs and her husband has successfully completed alcohol rehabilitation.”
“That’s all well and good. But what if he comes back here and discovers nothing has changed? That making a go of their artistic pursuits is no more lucrative and parenting five kids isn’t any easier now than it was before?”
Delaney again stared at the floor. That counting to ten business again. Then she raised her eyes to his. “I understand your concerns, but High Country Hope Ministries feels strongly that this family deserves a second chance. That they have a good possibility of succeeding this time. I’ve already committed us to it. We can’t back out. They’re counting on us.”
With a shake of his head, he pushed away from the refrigerator. “What’s the timeline on this again?”
“We have to be done by the end of July if Hope Ministries is to relocate the family, have the August rent returned and the youth group granted the bonus. Otherwise August thirty-first, with no refund and no bonus.”
“That first deadline is only seven or eight weeks away.” No, she hadn’t thought this through. “Kids have family vacations scheduled, music and sports camps, summer jobs. They aren’t going to be available all day, every day. Maybe not much at all.”
“I don’t think it will take long to clean and paint. To do yard work. Garrett thought it entirely doable.”
“You’re assuming, too,” he countered, “that you’ll get buy-in from the kids. That Mason boy was a bully and a brat. Not well liked. Be prepared for pushback from some parents, too.”
“Pushback?” She folded her arms, her chin lifting. “Like from you?”
“I’m not—” Well, maybe he was. “When will we get to take a look at this property?”
Her eyes narrowed—not caring for the we he’d thrown in there? He’d have found that fiery spark in her gaze more than a bit attractive had it not been leveled at him.
“I’m sorry, Delaney, but I’m not committing my kids to the project until I know more about it. Other parents will feel the same. Some of us have participated in past projects right along with our children. It’s a good family bonding experience.”
Her frown deepened. She took exception to fostering parent-kid time?
She took a deep breath. “I’ll arrange for us to see the property this next week. Maybe invite parents for an overview meeting with a Hope Ministries representative. Does that meet your expectations?”
“It’s a start.”
But it was clear that with Delaney in charge, he’d have to keep an even closer eye on the youth group. Exactly what he didn’t have time for right now.
* * *
“Does Travis and Anna’s dad come to a lot of the youth activities?”
Determined to calm—or confirm—her worst fears, Delaney had detained Garrett when he returned and everyone else dispersed for the night. It appeared she’d be seeing a lot of Mr. Hunter this summer, but under circumstances she’d prefer to avoid.
Garrett offered a grin. “He’s one of those involved parents I mentioned to you earlier.”
Involved.
As in engaged. Committed. On board.
In other words, in the way and messing up the youth group vibe.
How could she draw out the teens and get them to open up and share with her and each other if he conducted surveillance from the sidelines as he’d done this evening? When she’d hinted that tonight’s less-than-satisfactory level of participation wasn’t due solely to Travis, he’d had the gall to urge her not to blame herself.
And to think only a short while ago she’d hoped to see him more often. Be careful what you wish for?
“Travis didn’t seem too thrilled to have him here.”
“When you were seventeen, would you have wanted your father keeping watch over you and your pals, listening in on every word you said?”
Actually, she’d have given almost anything if it meant her father would still be alive. But she could see there was a problem here. If her most recent encounter with Luke was indicative of what she could expect from him, he had an opinion on everything. And, like her ex-boyfriend and Aunt Jen, felt called upon to offer unsolicited advice.
“Have you talked to Luke about this?” Maybe she could enlist Garrett’s support. “Explained that he needs to back off and give his teenagers breathing space?”
“Only a hundred times.”
She placed her hands on her hips. Some people were clueless and it aggravated her that Luke was one of them. “Doesn’t he realize being a helicopter dad, hovering over them all the time, isn’t healthy for the kids—or for him?”
And it made her nervous.
“I think he’s aware it causes friction at times, but it’s hard for him to let go. He takes being a dad seriously.”
Delaney snorted.
“Too seriously, if you ask me. Like, hello?” She didn’t care for Luke disrupting the youth group project dynamics. That is, if the project got off the ground. “I’m sure his kids think ‘Get a life, Dad.’”
“Probably. But don’t be too hard on him. He’s had a rough time of it.”
“How so?” Is this where she’d hear about the nightmare of an ex-wife? There had to be a story behind that sadness she sometimes glimpsed in his eyes, something beneath this overinvolved, overprotective dad stuff.
Garrett glanced away as if unwilling to say anything further.
“I assume,” she prompted, not wanting to be left hanging, her questions unanswered, “you’re alluding to a nasty divorce?”
For a long moment he remained silent. Then he shook his head.
“A divorce would be bad enough, but no. Not a divorce.” He massaged the back of his neck with his hand, obviously reluctant to continue.
A knot formed in her stomach. Had the children’s mother died as had hers? An accident? Health issues?
“If I’m going to spend my summer with these kids—and apparently their father, too—don’t you think I should have a clear understanding of the situation?”
Garrett let out a pent-up breath. “Yeah, I suppose that’s only fair. But if I tell you, you can’t say anything to Luke, okay? He doesn’t like to talk about it and he wouldn’t like me or anyone else talking about it, either.”
“I won’t say anything.” She mimed zipping her lips. “I promise.”
“Then it’s like this, Delaney...” Garrett’s bleak gaze held hers. “Luke’s wife—the mother of his kids—killed herself six years ago.”
