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Chapter Four

The next evening after a long, fruitful day of work, Davis hurried up the sidewalk to his sister’s home to collect his children. Jenny had been, quite literally, a godsend after Cheryl’s death. A homeschooling, stay-at-home mom married to an accountant, she lived on the opposite side of town from Davis, which in Whisper Falls wasn’t that far. Located in a newer addition along the bluff overlooking the Blackberry River, the speckled brick house had an aboveground pool in the backyard, closed now for the season, and a massive play fort that kept his kids enthralled for hours.

He let himself inside his sister’s house which always smelled of candle scents and looked freshly polished. Every piece of furniture, every flower arrangement and picture was pristine. He marveled at how well Jenny managed with his kids and hers, including a son with health challenges, and two cocker spaniels.

“Anybody home?” he called, his usual announcement, and one that started the dogs barking.

“Daddy!” a joyful voice squealed. In seconds, Nathan came racing into the living room, a red superhero cape flying out behind him. He leaped into Davis’s arms and wrapped his legs around his daddy’s waist.

The weary workday melted away in the warm, exuberant little-boy hug from his son. His baby. The child he’d made with a woman he loved. He thanked God every day for his kids. They’d kept him sane when he’d wanted to curl into a ball and let go of life.

Though sometimes he still ached from the lonely spot Cheryl had left behind, he was a content man. Breathing deep, he held his son close to his chest, not caring that he was dirty and stained with grout. Life didn’t get any better than the love of his sweet little boy and girl.

Jenny came around the dining room divider, smiling as she wiped her hands on a dish towel. Blonde and almost as tall as he, his sister had continued to gain weight after twin boys were born seven years ago. He thought she looked okay, but Jenny worried about being fat and was on some kind of crazy diet more often than not.

“You look bushed,” she said. “Want to sit a while and have some tea?”

Davis shook his head. “Thanks, but no. Laundry to do tonight.”

“You got a minute then? I want to ask you about something.”

“Sure.” He shifted, repositioning Nathan onto his hip. The boy’s legs were starting to dangle like octopus tentacles, a sign he would soon be too big to leap into his daddy’s embrace. Davis wasn’t ready for that. “What’s up?”

“The kids told me Lana Ross has moved back into her family’s old house.”

“True.”

“They also said you’d been over to see her. Twice.” He could see his sister was not happy about his friendliness. Never one to keep her opinions to herself, if Jenny had something to say, she’d say it. Sometimes that propensity was a good thing, but not always.

“True, as well. Being neighborly.” He unwound Nathan’s arms and let him slide to the floor. “Go get your sister, bud. We gotta go.”

Jenny waited until Nathan skidded around the corner, spaniels in nail-tapping pursuit, before continuing. “Is Lana planning to stay in Whisper Falls?”

“I didn’t ask her, but she’s remodeling the Ross house. I figure that’s a sign she’s here for good.”

“You’re not going to get involved with that, are you?”

Her tone raised bristles on the back of his neck. “I might. Why?”

“Davis, don’t you remember Lana Ross at all? What she was? How she was always in trouble, always doing the worst possible things? Surely, you aren’t going to let your children associate with a woman like her.”

Davis sucked in a chest full of air and tilted back on his boot heels. Jenny was protective of him and his kids, especially since Cheryl’s death. Besides, hadn’t he thought the same things about Lana?

“Come on, Jen, that was years ago. Teenagers do crazy things but they grow up.”

“Maybe. But where has she been all this time? What has she been doing? Why would she come back here where everyone knows about her?”

“Maybe because she owns a house here?” he said with a hint of sarcasm, hands up and out. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t risk your children to find out. Stay clear of her, Davis. She’s a bad influence.”

“Sis. Come on. Chill out. This is not like you. Lana is new in town. Even though she was born here, she’s been gone for years. She’s in my neighborhood.”

“Which does not mean you have to associate with her. You have plenty of friends.” She put a hand on his arm in a gesture of concern, her eyes worried. “Keep a nice, safe distance. That’s all I’m asking.”

“Too late for that. Nathan and Paige like her and her little girl. They’re already begging to have Sydney to the house for a sleepover.”

Jenny’s head dropped backward as she gave an exasperated sigh. “That’s another thing. Lana has a child. I’ll bet you anything she isn’t married. If she’s like she was in high school, she probably doesn’t even know who the father is.”

Davis’s jaw tightened. He loved his sister and appreciated her help, but she was taking this too far. In a deceptively quiet voice, he said, “Passing judgment, are we, sis?”

Jenny’s chin went up. Her nostrils flared below pale eyes that arced fire. “Not in the least. Protecting our loved ones from harm is a Christian responsibility. Remember what Dad used to tell us about running with the wrong people? The Bible even warns against ‘casting your pearls before swine.’”

“Wait a minute. Stop right there.” She was starting to get under his skin. “Are you calling Lana a swine? You don’t even know her.”

“But I remember her. We had more than one run-in during high school.” Jenny twisted the towel as if wringing Lana’s neck. Or his. “I love your kids. I don’t want them exposed to alcohol and drugs and Lord only knows what else. Do you want them to have a reputation like those awful Ross sisters?”

“They’re in grade school, for crying out loud! Come on, Jenny. You’re being ridiculous.”

And she was making him uncomfortable. Hadn’t he struggled with these same, ugly thoughts yesterday? Yet, Lana and her little girl gave no sign of being anything but decent people. Even if they weren’t, didn’t God expect him to show grace and charity?

But he wanted to protect his children, too.

While brother and sister stared each other down and Davis wrestled with his thoughts, Nathan and Paige entered the room, followed by seven-year-old twins Charlie and Kent. The boys were apple-cheeked replicas of their dark-skinned father, though Charlie was smaller and wore a pallor lacking in his healthier sibling. Born with a heart defect, he’d had surgery soon after birth but he still took medication and had never been quite as vigorous as Kent. His condition was the main reason Jenny homeschooled. A valve replacement was in his near future, a fact that stressed the whole family, especially Jenny. Because of Charlie’s uncertain health, Davis felt for his sister, but she could make him crazy, too.

“Ready?” Davis asked, grateful for the interruption to the contentious conversation. He was a peacemaker. Arguments made him miserable. Besides, his sister had enough on her plate. He didn’t want to add to her worries by fighting over a woman neither of them knew that well.

But he was also a grown man, capable of making his own decisions and caring for his children. He didn’t need his baby sister’s dire warnings.

“Can we go see Sydney when we get home?” Nathan asked, presenting a cupcake smashed inside a Ziploc bag. “I saved her half of my cupcake.”

Jenny hissed, her glare burning a hole into her brother. “See?”

Davis ignored her. “That was really thoughtful of you, son.”

“Paige saved all of hers for Lana.” Nathan nodded sagely. “She has brown hair.”

“My cupcake! I almost forgot.” Paige clapped a hand against her forehead. “Wait a minute, Daddy, while I go get it.”

His little girl hurried out of the room.

Jenny rolled her eyes at Davis. “Nathan has mentioned brown hair several times today. He even drew a picture of a woman with brown hair. What is that about?”

Davis shrugged. “Couldn’t say. Why don’t you ask him?” He dropped a hand on his son’s shoulder. “What’s the deal, Lucille? Why are you suddenly obsessed with brown hair?”

“Because,” Nathan said, his voice exasperated as if Davis should understand. “Me and Paige prayed. God is going to send us a new mom with brown hair.”

“What?” Davis exchanged stunned glances with his sister. This did not sound good.

“Don’t you see, Daddy?” Nathan stretched his small arms wide, the smashed cupcake dangling in its bag. “After we prayed, Lana moved into the haunted house. Get it?”

A slow dawning broke through Davis’s thoughts. “Was that why you climbed up Whisper Falls? To pray for a new mom with brown hair?”

Nathan slapped a hand over his mouth. “I wasn’t supposed to tell. Paige says we have to let God do the work. We’re just His helpers.”

Davis squeezed the small shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

The kids had prayed. Lana Ross had moved in. She was single—and she had brown hair.

Naturally, their wild imaginations would take over and assume Lana was God’s answer.

He raised his eyes from his son’s dejected body to his sister’s face.

“This is already getting out of hand, Davis.”

He dragged a hand down his face and felt the rough dryness of tile glue still stuck to his fingers. “No kidding.”

Jenny touched his arm. “Promise me you’ll be careful, okay? You know what she is even if they don’t. These kids have been hurt enough.”

Davis’s belly took a nosedive.

How could he argue with that?

* * *

Lana drove through the quiet, lazy town of Whisper Falls—past the train depot in the center town circle, past the Tress and Tan Salon, Jessup’s Pharmacy, Aunt Annie’s Antiques, and nearly drooled at the delights in the window of the Sweets and Eats candy store. The town didn’t look as tired and run-down as it had when she’d left, when it had been Millerville.

“Look, Lana.” Sydney, on the passenger side of the car, whipped her head toward Lana, eyes widened. “Sorry. I meant Mom.”

Though Lana had been Sydney’s primary caregiver most of her life, she’d never usurped Tess’s title as Mom. Until now.

“You understand why it’s important that everyone believe you’re my daughter, don’t you, peanut?”

Sydney nodded. “So I don’t have to go to foster care.”

“That’s the gist of the matter. But if you slip up and say my name instead, we’ll just pretend that’s the way we do things. Okay?”

Pretending—or more accurately, lying—bothered Lana. She’d promised the Lord to change her bad habits but shading the truth was for Sydney’s protection. Surely, God would agree the end justified the means when a child’s well-being was on the line. Wouldn’t He?

Sydney nodded though her expression was worried. “I remember what happened in Nashville when that woman came to school and asked me all those questions about you and Mama and where we lived. I was real scared. I thought I might never see you again.”

Lana reached across the console to pat her niece’s knee, taking note that Sydney didn’t worry about the loss of her birth mother. She worried about losing the aunt who’d raised her. “I know, baby. That’s why we’re here now. Nobody is going to take you away. Not ever.”

“You won’t let them, will you?”

“No.” Not as long as I have breath in my body and legs that can run.

Because of Tess’s constant run-ins with the law, the child protective agency had investigated Sydney’s living situation. The interview at school had been a warning to Lana that she might lose Sydney if she didn’t take action. So she had. With her own less-than-stellar background, she feared social services would reject her as well as Tess—the reasons she and Sydney had come to Whisper Falls, the one place Lana had never wanted to see again.

“I didn’t mean to tell my teacher about living in the car. It just kind of slipped out when she asked about making a fire escape plan for our house.”

“It’s okay. You’re safe. We’re going to have a good, good life in Whisper Falls.” No matter what it takes.

“Are we having Christmas here?”

“Christmas?” Lana said, laughing softly. “We’re barely into November.”

“But look.” Sydney’s nail-gnawed fingertip pecked against the passenger window.

City workers high on the “cherry picker” lifts normally used to change streetlights, strung Christmas decorations across the short five-block main street. Christmas. She was always amazed how quickly the holiday arrived once October slipped away. With Thanksgiving on the horizon, Christmas, and winter, would be upon them before she could get the house in shape.

Unless she enlisted considerable assistance.

Her thoughts flashed to Davis Turner. He’d actually made her feel welcome as if her ugly reputation wasn’t dancing around inside his head. As if she would be accepted in her old hometown.

He’d given her hope.

With Sydney jabbering about Christmas and wondering if Paige would be in her class at school, Lana drove through town, turning down a side street and into a residential area that led to the school. A long, low, redbrick complex of buildings and facilities, the school had grown considerably since her days of skipping class to smoke in the gym locker room.

But Jesus had wiped her slate clean. All she had to do was convince the rest of the world she’d changed.

Tall order.

She parked the car and went inside the elementary school, holding Sydney’s hand. Lana’s own palm sweated, though the temperature wasn’t overly warm as they stepped through the door marked Principal. Memories flashed. Detentions, threats, suspensions. Her own smirks and bad attitude. Not in this particular office, but in others like it.

Lord, she’d been a nightmare.

“May I help you?”

The woman behind the reception desk looked familiar. Lana glanced at the nameplate. Wendy Begley.

Choosing her words carefully, Lana said, “My little girl needs to enroll in third grade.”

Wendy turned her attention to Sydney with a smile. “What’s your name, honey?”

“Sydney Ross, ma’am. Are you the principal?”

“No, honey. The principal is up in the high school right now. I’m the secretary.” Her eyes lifted to Lana. “I thought I recognized you. Lana Ross, right? Or is it Tess?”

“Lana.”

“I don’t know if you remember me. I was a few years behind you in school but I remember you and your sister, the infamous Ross girls.” She gave a soft chuckle that held no rancor. “I used to be Wendy Westerfeld. Married Doug Begley. You remember him, don’t you? His daddy owned the car wash. We have it now that Gordon retired.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Lana did her best to appear bland and polite but inwardly she cringed. She remembered Doug all right. He’d been a party to a few of her self-destructive moments. “Do we need to fill out some paperwork to get Sydney enrolled?”

“Do you have her records from the other school?”

“Uh, no. We, uh, I—homeschooled her. We moved around a lot with my job.” Liar, liar. Forgive me, God. “I have her shot record and birth certificate, though.”

Before the other woman could inquire more deeply, Lana handed over the records.

Wendy took the documents to a file cabinet where she extracted a folder and a packet of papers. “Here is the enrollment packet. The paperwork is lengthy so you can take the whole packet home if you’d like and send it back with Sydney tomorrow.”

Lana accepted the thick stack, thankful for the relaxed manner of a small-town school. Trusting and nice, and oh, she wanted to be worthy of both those things. “Sounds good. Thank you.”

“All I need today is this top form of contact info, emergency numbers, that kind of thing. Will she be riding the bus?”

“We live in town. I’ll drive her.”

Wendy made a notation on the form. “Cafeteria or bringing her lunch?”

“Cafeteria for now. How much money does she need?”

Wendy named the amount and Lana paid for the week, relieved that the enrollment was going so well. She held her breath while the secretary made a copy of Sydney’s birth certificate without so much as a glance at the parent’s name and slid the copy into a folder.

One hurdle down.

Afterward, Wendy walked them down a long hallway decorated in happy primary colors and motivational bulletin boards to one of the third-grade classrooms to meet Sydney’s new teacher.

With a final hug, Sydney hitched her Hello Kitty backpack and disappeared into the classroom. As the frosty-haired teacher closed the door, Wendy said, “Mrs. Pierce is a wonderful veteran teacher. Sydney will love her class.”

“She’s kind of shy.”

“She’ll be fine.”

Lana’s boot heels tapped against the white tile floor as they headed back toward the office. “You have children?”

“Four of the little boogers. Two, six, eight and ten.” Wendy laughed. “That adorable two-year-old snuck up on us.”

Lana laughed, too, relieved and grateful to Wendy Begley for her easy, welcoming demeanor. The school had chosen their secretary well.

She was beginning to think her return to Whisper Falls would not be as difficult as she’d imagined when another woman stepped into the office.

“Here’s our principal now,” Wendy said as she regained her desk chair. “Ms. Chester, do you remember Lana Ross? She just enrolled her daughter in third grade.”

“Lana,” the woman said coolly, slowly turning on black, shiny pumps, her suit the color of eggplant and her eyes as frosty as January. “How...interesting to see you again. What brings you back to this dull little mountain town?”

Lana’s confidence, buoyed first by Davis’s kindness and then Wendy’s, now wilted like a daisy in the snow. She barely remembered this woman but clearly she’d been judged and found wanting.

The trouble was, she couldn’t argue. She was as guilty as charged.

* * *

Lana left the school feeling lower than a snake’s belly. Her fingers itched for her guitar and a chance to let the music melt away the disquiet in her chest. But she couldn’t today. Today she had her first face-to-face meeting with her new boss, Joshua Kendle.

She drove to the newspaper office, past more of the quaint, picturesque mountain town she’d once wanted to escape. Even now, the need to run pressed in. Sometimes she was ashamed because the desire to get dog drunk and escape her problems almost overwhelmed her. Only the thought of how far she’d come, of how much God had done for her, and of Sydney, kept her straight and sober.

As she parked at an angle in front of the newspaper office, her hands trembled against the steering wheel. She took out her phone and punched in the speed dial number to Amber, her counselor at the mission in Nashville. After a brief conversation and prayer, she stepped out of the car with renewed courage. She’d come too far to turn back now.

Assailed by the scent of bacon, she spotted Marvin’s diner, a familiar old haunt tucked in between the dry cleaners and an antique shop across the street from the Gazette, and smiled. Not everything in Whisper Falls had been bad. She could do this.

Head up, shoulders back, she marched through the half-windowed door into the Gazette. Immediately, the wonderful bacon smell gave way to printer’s ink and old-fashioned type set that harkened to days gone by. The Gazette, it seemed, had yet to enter the full digital age.

“Morning. May I help you?” A short, potbellied man with sleeves rolled back on thick arms and wearing a backward baseball cap rounded a counter. He was probably in his early forties.

“I have an appointment with Joshua Kendle.”

“You must be Lana.” He scraped a hand down the leg of his faded jeans. “I’m Joshua. Welcome. You ready to get to work?”

Her shoulders relaxed at his affable warmth. “Ready. What do I do first?”

“Come meet the rest of the staff and then I’ll show you the ropes.” He took her through the back where several cubicles were set up with computers and introduced her to the small group of employees, including his wife, a heavyset blonde with big hair and a gold print scarf. “Hannah is the brains of the outfit. She handles the classifieds and subscriptions.”

As Lana met the others, she relaxed more. No one here seemed to remember the awful Ross girls, or if they did, they didn’t care.

After the introductions, Joshua led the way to his desk crammed inside a tiny, messy office and got down to business, explaining Lana’s duties and her pay-per-article salary. “Hannah gathers an events list from the schools, churches, civic groups, and posts it on the computer and out front on the bulletin board. You can access it yourself from home if you want. Attend as many of them as you can, write up a report, email it to me. I’ll edit and proof and let you know if I have questions. Pick up your check every other Friday.”

“That sounds too easy.” Even if she hadn’t written a full page of anything other than songs in years.

“You grew up in Whisper Falls, right?”

How did he know that? He wasn’t a native. “Except it was Millerville back then.”

“Your local knowledge should come in handy.” Joshua didn’t appear to be in a rush, but he moved and spoke quickly as if always on a deadline. Which in fact, he probably was. “This job will put you in contact with practically everyone in town at some point. It is a great way for you to get reacquainted.”

She’d considered that, although she hadn’t seen it as an advantage. Joshua might know she was a Whisper Falls native but apparently he knew little else. Thank goodness.

“You got a camera?”

“Only an old used one. The pictures are pretty good.”

“That’ll work. Simon is our staff photographer but he can’t be everywhere. I use photos from anyone who’ll send them in, so if you see something picture-worthy, take a shot, add a caption and email it to me. I’ll go from there. If I use it, you get paid.”

Awesome. “Okay.”

“Good.” He dug around in the mess of papers on his desk and pulled out a sheet. “Here you go. Friday night. Football play-offs. Give the kids a good write-up, mention lots of names so we can keep the mamas and daddies buying newspapers.”

She wanted to ask how she was supposed to know who was who but held back. She needed this job. Any show of uncertainty on her part could kill the deal before she had a chance.

“I need the article by Saturday morning to make the Sunday edition. Can you do it?”

The offer, like the man, came fast and immediate. She hadn’t been as ready as she’d let on. She’d planned to take some time and study back editions of the Gazette, to check out library books on writing.

But Joshua was waiting for her answer now.

She stuck her phone in her back pocket and tossed her hair with a fake smile. “Sure. First thing Saturday morning.”

She’d write that article if she had to sit up all Friday night to do it.