Читать книгу The Promise of Home - Kathryn Springer - Страница 11

Chapter Two

Jenna stiffened.

Was he laughing at her?

When she’d seen the animal hurtling across the patch of lawn like a furry twister, Jenna automatically slammed the car door to protect the children inside.

Which left her on the outside.

Faced with a decision—one hastened by the knowledge that the size and weight of something didn’t necessarily reduce its capacity for speed—Jenna had vaulted onto the hood, sacrificing a shoe in the process.

So maybe she’d reacted—okay, shrieked. Once. Or had it been twice? But not very loudly. And only because the beast had pounced on one of her favorite Kate Spades as if it were a juicy T-bone steak.

Jenna had been trying to figure out a way to get back inside the car when he showed up.

Her heart had almost stopped at the sight of the man in camouflage emerging from the woods that bordered the property.

Jenna sneaked another look at Dev McGuire and what she saw didn’t exactly put her mind at ease.

The man looked as unkempt as the wolf-dog-public nuisance now sitting sedately at his feet.

A swatch of sable hair, carelessly combed by the warm breeze skipping off the lake, had fallen across his broad forehead. Underneath a heavy growth of stubble, the features were lean and defined, a pleasing clash of sharp angles and rugged planes. Tiny lines fanned out from eyes that should have been hazel or chocolate brown, not a pale amber that reminded Jenna of clover honey.

“I can replace the shoes if necessary.” Dev McGuire broke the silence that had fallen between them and shot the dog a wry look. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to make…ah, restitution for damages.”

Jenna didn’t doubt that for a minute.

“That’s not necessary.” She replaced her shoe and slid off the opposite side of the car.

Dev looked amused, as if he’d guessed that she wanted to keep her distance. Between him and his dog.

“If you ever do see a wolf, Just Jenna, I would recommend taking shelter inside the car.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jenna said stiffly. “I appreciate you coming over to get your dog, but don’t let me keep you any longer—”

“Can we get out now?” A small voice piped up from inside the car.

Jenna had been waiting for Tori to talk to her all morning but these weren’t exactly the words she’d wanted to hear.

She winced when her neighbor’s focus shifted to the backseat, where two small faces were framed in the window, noses pressed against the glass.

Jenna hadn’t forgotten about her niece and nephew, she just didn’t want to draw attention to the fact they were there.

She pinned on a smile. “In a minute, sweetheart.”

“When the wolf is gone?”

“It’s not a wolf. It’s just a…dog.” A very large, ferocious-looking dog. Named after a small, delicate flower.

“Oh.” A pause. “Can I pet it?”

Now that Dev McGuire had cleared up the mystery concerning what type of animal had scared her nearly to death, Jenna should have anticipated the request. One of the reasons Tori hadn’t wanted to leave the bed-and-breakfast was because she’d gotten so attached to Mulligan and Lady, Abby and Quinn’s dogs.

The O’Hallorans had encouraged Jenna to bring the children back anytime to play with their pets, but the generous offer hadn’t stemmed the flow of Tori’s tears. To her niece, the dogs represented something else she’d been forced to leave behind.

“I don’t think that’s—” A good idea. Safe.

While Jenna silently sifted through her options until she found the most tactful response, Dev McGuire reached out and opened the car door.

* * *

The two kids that tumbled out of the backseat were miniature replicas of the woman who held Dev responsible for her recent wardrobe malfunction.

“Hi.” Dev squatted down in front of the boy. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jenna advancing like a mama bear protecting her cubs. “I’m Dev. And you are—”

“Logan J. Gardner,” came the serious response.

Dev held back a smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Logan J. Gardner.”

“And this is Tori.” Logan gestured to the blonde pixie hiding behind him.

When Dev turned his attention to the little girl, she dipped her chin and studied the toes of her scuffed sneakers.

“It’s nice to meet you, too, Tori.”

She peeked at him through a fringe of golden lashes. “Your dog is pretty.”

Violet tossed her head and preened as if she’d understood, even though Dev was certain no one had ever used that particular word to describe her before.

“Do you like dogs?” he asked.

Tori nodded shyly.

“Well, she likes kids.”

“For breakfast?” Dev heard Jenna say under her breath.

She stopped several feet away, hovering in the background like a Black Hawk helicopter, ready to swoop in and rescue her children at the first sign of danger.

Dev wondered what had happened to make her so suspicious.

Or maybe it was him she didn’t trust. The last two weeks, Dev had spent more time in the woods than polite society. Not that he was complaining—most of the time he preferred it that way.

“Violet likes to have her ears scratched. Right here.” Dev demonstrated and the dog growled her appreciation. Three pairs of eyes widened at the sound. “Don’t worry. That’s the noise she makes when she’s happy.”

“That’s what she did when she picked up Aunt Jenna’s shoe,” Logan whispered.

Aunt Jenna.

The relief that arrowed through Dev didn’t make any sense.

From the top of her shining hair to the tips of her pedicure, Just Jenna was not his type. She was beautiful, no doubt about it, but everything about her shouted high maintenance. Stylish clothing. Simple but expensive jewelry.

Not to mention she was still looking at him the way she would a ketchup stain on her white jeans.

Jenna reminded him too much of Elaina Hammond. His ex-fiancé had always insisted on having the “best” of everything. The relationship ended when they’d no longer agreed on what that meant.

“Can I pet Violet, Aunt Jenna?” Tori repeated. “Please?”

Jenna tossed the dog a dubious glance. Fortunately, what Violet lacked in looks, she more than made up for in doggy smarts. She thumped her tail a few times and wiggled her eyebrows, a veritable canine poster child for good manners.

Jenna sighed. “I suppose so.”

“Me, too.” Logan dropped to his knees in front of the dog, whose lips peeled back to expose a row of gleaming white teeth.

Dev heard an audible gulp.

“Don’t worry. She’s smiling at you,” he said. “Violet, meet Logan J. Gardner.”

The boy tentatively reached out a hand and his mouth dropped open in amazement when Violet lifted a paw the size of a snowshoe for him to shake.

“See? She’s very well trained,” Dev murmured.

Jenna turned one slim ankle to examine her shoe and Dev almost laughed.

Point taken.

“What kind of dog is she?” Logan asked.

“According to the vet, mostly German shepherd and husky.” Dev ruffled the dog’s ears. “I found her running loose in the woods last summer when she was a pup. It took a few days and two packages of hotdogs to get her to trust me. That’s how she got her name,” he added. “She was shy as a violet.”

Tori plopped down in the grass and Violet cemented their new friendship by swiping the girl’s cheek with her tongue. Tori drew back, giggling.

“See Aunt Jenna! She doesn’t bite.”

“Only shoes.” Dev tipped a smile at Jenna.

A smile she didn’t return.

“I’m sure Mr. McGuire has things to do today. And so do we.” Jenna glanced at the cabin and Dev was pretty sure he saw her…shudder?

Wait a second.

“You’re staying here?” The moment Dev had laid eyes on Jenna, he’d dismissed the notion she’d been staying in the cabin and assumed she had somehow gotten lost and ended up mistaking the long driveway for a road. It happened all the time in an area where the locals had a tendency to give out directions based on natural landmarks rather than official signs.

“We have to.” Logan sidled closer to his sister. “So our Mom knows where to find us.”

Dev had no idea what that meant, but for a split second, he saw Jenna’s composure slip. The flash of vulnerability an unexpected, almost startling, contrast to the confidence she wore with the same ease as her designer labels.

The speed in which Jenna had recovered from her initial embarrassment over their unusual introduction, restoring both her dignity and poise as swiftly as she’d replaced her shoe, told Dev she placed a high value on both.

But something also told Dev that Jenna was totally out of her element here. And not only because she looked like the type of woman whose idea of roughing it was a hotel where the guests were greeted by a valet, not an oversize mutt with a penchant for leather shoes.

Dev watched a chipmunk disappear through a crack in the foundation and imagined an entire colony of the furry little critters living under the porch. Not the kind of neighbors Just Jenna would choose if given a choice.

Then again, judging from the wary looks Dev had been receiving, she probably wouldn’t have chosen him, either.

Keep your eyes open, Dev, Jason had liked to say. God puts certain people in your path for a reason.

After several years of soul searching, Dev no longer found those words difficult to believe. Even if he did spend long periods of time in the woods to reduce the risk of it happening.

But why would God deposit a reminder of the life he’d walked away from—even worse, a strikingly pretty reminder—less than a hundred yards from his front door?

There could only be one reason that Dev could think of.

He was being punished for something.

“There’s a bed-and-breakfast about two miles from here,” Dev said slowly. “I’m sure you’d be more comfortable there.”

And, to be honest, so would he. One of the reasons Dev had turned his late grandfather’s summer cabin into a permanent residence was because it provided the solitude he craved. If the owner of the cabin next door started renting it out on a regular basis, Dev would have to buy the place in order to prevent an influx of tourists from invading his privacy.

“We were just there,” Tori piped up. “Abby has a dog named Mulligan, but he’s not as big as Violet.”

“We had to stay there because of the fire but Grace—she’s our social worker—told us it was okay for us to come back home now,” her brother added.

Dev’s attempt to make sense of the conversation was sabotaged by a single word. His gaze swung to Jenna.

“What fire?”

Jenna debated what—if anything—to tell Devlin McGuire.

For a girl who transferred the details of her personal life to print for hundreds of devoted readers each week, she was curiously loathe to share any of them with him.

Unfortunately, the children didn’t seem to share her reservations, forcing Jenna to question her initial impression of her niece and nephew. Maybe Logan and Tori weren’t quiet. Maybe they were simply quiet around her.

She decided to give their neighbor the condensed version.

“No one was hurt and it didn’t cause any major damage.” At least, not to the cabin itself. Jenna still wasn’t sure what lasting effects that night had had on her niece and nephew.

“And you were here at the time?” Dev persisted.

“Me and Logan were.” Tori looked down at the ground. “And our mom.”

“She’s in the hospital,” Logan said.

Dev’s eyebrows dipped together in a frown and Jenna knew what he was thinking. “Not because of the fire,” she said quickly. “She’s there…for other reasons.”

“Aunt Jenna’s staying with us until Mom gets better.” He looked at her for confirmation.

“That’s right.” Jenna masked her concern for Shelly, wishing she knew how long that would be.

She’d called the treatment center several days ago and asked to speak with her sister, only to be informed that Shelly wasn’t accepting phone calls.

Jenna hadn’t known where to turn for answers.

At Kate Nichols’s suggestion, she had contacted Jake Sutton, the local chief of police who’d been at the scene the night of the fire. All he’d been able to discover was that Shelly had rented the cabin at the beginning of the summer and kept to herself.

Strange as it seemed, especially given a small town’s propensity toward gossip, the police chief’s assessment had proven to be correct. Kate had made some inquiries, too, and none of her regular customers at the Grapevine Cafe knew anything about Shelly.

Including, it seemed, her closest neighbor.

“I’m sorry about your mom.”

The compassion Jenna heard in Dev’s husky voice was a confusing contrast to the man’s rough exterior.

But she didn’t need confusing. Not right now.

“Mom’s been sick a long time,” Logan said, a shadow passing through his eyes.

Tori bobbed her head in agreement. “She sleeps a lot.”

Jenna released a careful breath. It was the first time the children had said anything that hinted at Shelly’s addiction.

A part of her hadn’t wanted to believe it was true. The police hadn’t found any drugs on the premises, so Shelly hadn’t been taken into custody the night of the fire. But according to Grace Eversea, it had been the wake-up call Shelly needed to admit she had a problem and seek treatment.

“We’re asking God to make her better,” Logan said, his expression earnest. “He can do that, can’t he, Aunt Jenna?”

“Yes. He can.”

It was Dev McGuire who broke the sudden silence. Because even if Jenna had been certain of the answer, she was sure the word would have gotten stuck inside the lump forming in her throat.

For the children’s sake, she hoped he was right.

“Is there anything I can do?” Dev was looking at her now, not the children. The genuine concern reflected in his eyes threatening to sever the fragile hold on her self-control.

“I’m fine.” Jenna heard herself repeat the words that had served as an effective shield over the years.

And even though Dev nodded, she had the unsettling feeling that he could see right through it.

Watching him stride away, the dog loping along at his side, Jenna was struck with a sudden, inexplicable urge to ask him to come back. But she’d learned long ago not to ask anyone for help. Not her neighbors. Not her teachers or classmates.

Not even God.