Читать книгу Tidings of Joy - Margaret Daley - Страница 10

Chance’s clipped words caused Tanya to step back, strained uneasiness pulsating between them. She got the distinct impression thinking was all he would do about going to church.

Without really contemplating what she was saying, she asked, “You aren’t going to come, are you?” The second the question was out of her mouth, she bit down on the inside of her cheek. She’d never confronted someone about not attending church. She didn’t confront anyone about anything, if possible.

His gaze narrowed on her face, every line in his body rigid. “I need to get settled in.”

By his tight tone, evasive answer and clenched jaw, Tanya knew that any further discussion was unwelcome. “I’m sorry I brought up the subject. I just assumed you believed.”

“Because I’m friends with Samuel?”

She nodded.

“I guess Samuel would say I’m the lost sheep he’s trying to bring back to the fold.”

“So you’ve heard him speak before?”

“Yeah. But it’s not going to change how I feel. Simply put, God wasn’t there for me when I needed Him the most.”

His statement piqued her curiosity and made her wonder even more about Chance Taylor’s past. She handed him another dish and let the silence lengthen while she decided how to proceed with the conversation when tension crowded the space between them. “What happened?” She realized she was pushing when she never pushed.

“Nothing I want to revisit.”

His answer hadn’t surprised her. She didn’t think he shared willingly much of himself with anyone. She’d seen that same defensive mechanism in Tom, especially after the riding accident that had left Crystal paralyzed. “You said you were a financial advisor. I wish I had a knack for figures. My budget’s in a terrible mess. I work at a bank, but finances aren’t my strong suit.” There, that should be a safe enough subject for conversation.

“What do you do?”

“I started out as a receptionist, but I’m a teller now. I can count money, just not manage my own very well. There never seems to be enough to go around. I’m still paying off Crystal’s medical expenses.” And her deceased ex-husband’s lawyer’s bill, she added silently, not wanting to go into what happened with Tom. How do you explain to a person you just met that your husband was sent to prison for burning barns in retaliation for their daughter’s accident?

“When was the last time you redid your budget?”

“I don’t exactly have one that’s written down. I pay the most important bills first, then as much as I can on the ones left. That’s the extent of my budget. Some months I do better than others.” She could remember her spending spree several years back where she had bought unnecessary items—expensive clothing, inessential furniture. Thankfully she had been able to take a lot of them back—but not all. She’d finally paid off those bills a few months ago. So long as she stayed on the medication she took for manic depression, she shouldn’t get herself into a bind like that again. She couldn’t afford to.

After he put the last glass on the top rack, Chance closed the dishwasher. “Maybe I can help you with that.”

“Would you? That would be great! If the job with Nick doesn’t work out, I may be able to help you find one. I can ask around.” There was something about Chance that drew her to him. She wanted to help him, especially in light of him offering to assist her with her budget.

He frowned, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck. “You don’t—”

“Mom, I’m going out on the deck to do my homework. Now that the sun’s going down behind the trees, it’s cooler outside.” With a book and pad in her lap, Crystal wheeled herself toward the back door.

Chance hurried to open it before her daughter could. “What subject are you working on?”

“English. I have an essay to write. I do my best thinking outside.”

“So do I.”

When Crystal was out on the deck, Chance turned toward Tanya. “I’d better go. It’s been a long day, and tomorrow I have that job interview, then I need to buy some supplies.”

“Pretty much whatever you need can be found on Main Street or right off it. There’s a grocery store four blocks from here on Third Avenue.”

“Is that right after Second?”

“Yep.”

“Then I think I can find it on my walk,” he said with a smile.

“You don’t have a car?”

“No, I came on the bus.”

“I’m going to Alice’s Café tomorrow at ten. What time is your interview?”

“Nine.”

“I can give you a lift, if you’d like. I have a few errands I need to run before I meet my friends.”

“Thanks, but I can walk. I like the exercise.”

His half grin appeared, and for a few seconds Tanya’s heart responded by quickening its beat. Her physical reaction took her by surprise. After her ordeal with Tom, men hadn’t interested her—until now.

Chance left and stopped next to Crystal to say a few words to her, then proceeded toward the detached garage at the side of the house. Tanya came out onto the deck and watched him. While he’d talked with her daughter, Tanya had glimpsed a vulnerability leaking into his expression. He had managed to cover it quickly, but she had seen it.

“What do you think of our new tenant?” Tanya asked when she noticed her daughter watching her staring at Chance.

“What do you think?”

“He seems nice. Kinda lonely.”

“Yeah.”

“What did he say to you?”

Crystal tilted her head, screwing up her face into a quizzical expression. “He offered to tutor me in math if I needed it.”

Tanya laughed. “Did you tell him you had a ninety-eight in Algebra I and that you’re taking Algebra II?”

She nodded. “I wonder why he offered.”

“Did you ask him?”

“He left before I could. Maybe I will tomorrow.”

“Speaking of tomorrow, I’d better get a load of laundry done tonight or neither of us will have anything to wear.”

When Tanya entered the kitchen, her gaze fell on the table where Chance had sat for dinner. He was a puzzle. And one of her favorite things to do was put together jigsaw puzzles, the more pieces the better. She had a feeling there were a lot of pieces to Chance Taylor.

“Have a seat.” Nick Blackburn indicated a brown leather chair in front of his large desk.

Chance quickly scanned the spacious office as he sat. The rich walnut tones of the furniture with a navy-and-brown color scheme lent a refined elegance to the room. He’d been in many offices that conveyed power and wealth. This one ranked near the top.

Mr. Blackburn perused the application Chance had filled out, and he knew the second the man read about his time spent in the state penitentiary. To give Mr. Blackburn credit, he finished the application before he glanced up at Chance and asked, “What did you do time for?”

“Murder.”

The man’s eyes widened slightly before he put the paper down, a bland expression veiling his curiosity. “You only served two years?”

“My conviction was overturned when the real murderer was apprehended last month.”

“So you served two years for a crime you didn’t commit.”

Even though it really wasn’t a question, Chance said, “Yes.”

“That’s where you met Samuel?”

“Yes, sir. He took an interest in me and we became friends.”

“You know you’re overqualified for this job. You have an MBA from Harvard. You’ve worked for several top money-managing companies in the country and were on the fast track.”

“Were is the operative word here. That was in my past. Besides—” Chance grinned “—Blackburn Industries is well respected and a multimillion dollar business. I consider this job an opportunity to do something different.”

“Because you don’t see people letting you manage their money after spending time in prison?”

Chance leaned forward. “To be frank, I don’t want to be reminded of the life I once had. I need to start over in something totally different. What are the duties of the job?”

After Mr. Blackburn listed them for Chance, the man said, “Do you think you can handle those?”

In his sleep, Chance thought and nodded.

“There will be some traveling to my Chicago office. The dress is casual here but not in Chicago.”

“I understand.”

Nick Blackburn pushed back his chair and stood. Offering Chance his hand, he said, “Then you’ve got yourself a job. I’ve never known Samuel to be wrong about a person, and he thinks you can do this job.”

“When do I start, Mr. Blackburn?”

“It’s Nick, and you can start Wednesday morning when I get back from Chicago. Be here at nine and I’ll show you around and introduce you to the staff here in Sweetwater.”

A few minutes later as Chance left the building, he couldn’t resist turning his face to the sun, relishing its warmth as it bathed him. He would never tire of doing that.

He had a job. That was one worry taken care of. Now all he had to figure out was how to be there for Tanya and Crystal without them knowing why. After spending time with them the night before, he wasn’t sure he wanted them ever to know his involvement in Tom’s death.

“Okay, you have to tell us about the guy renting your apartment.” Jesse scooted over in the booth at Alice’s Café to allow Tanya to slide in beside her. “We’ve all been waiting with bated breath.”

“Jesse Blackburn, don’t you get any ideas. No matchmaking! He’s only my tenant. Just passing through.” Taking a sip of her coffee, Tanya looked around the group and added, “How did you know I have a man renting my garage apartment?”

Beth Morgan grinned. “Samuel told me. Do you think there are any secrets among us after all these years?”

“What else did your husband say?” Tanya thought about all she wanted to know concerning her tenant, especially what or who was responsible for the pain behind his half smile that never quite reached his eyes. She hadn’t slept much the night before, her mind insisting on playing through all kinds of scenarios.

“Not much. Samuel just told me you rented your apartment to Chance Taylor, a friend from his past. You know my husband. He doesn’t say much about a person he knows. He always likes people to make up their own mind. So spill the beans. What’s he look like?”

An image of the first time she had seen Chance on her porch flashed into Tanya’s mind. Even from the beginning she’d been drawn to his eyes where she’d seen a shadow of sadness in their depths. “He’s very tall, dark hair, blue eyes, nice build, probably in his late thirties. He had an interview this morning with Nick about the assistant’s job.”

Surprise widened Jesse’s eyes. “He did and Nick didn’t tell me.”

“This isn’t a secretarial-type position, is it?” Zoey Witherspoon asked.

Jesse shook her head. “More like Nick’s right hand. Someone he can train to take over part of his duties that demand he travel to Chicago.”

“Chance’s background is in finance so he should be qualified,” Tanya said, glad she knew at least that much about her new tenant.

With her elbow on the table, Darcy Markham rested her chin in her palm. “Mmm. He sounds promising.”

“Hey, you’re married to a very nice, good-looking man. And you’re expecting your third child,” Zoey said, gently punching Darcy in the arm. “Between you and Beth we’ll be spending a lot of time at the maternity floor of the hospital in a few months.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t look at a handsome man because that’s as far as it goes. No one will take the place of Joshua in my heart.”

Tanya listened to her friends talk about their husbands, their children, the babies Darcy and Beth were expecting. She was the only one not married in the group, and she felt the loneliness of her situation more now than ever. A few years ago—first with Crystal’s riding accident, then Tom’s arson conviction that led to him divorcing her and ultimately his death in prison—her whole life had fallen apart. She was still trying to put the pieces back together and keep her manic depression under control. And she would because she had no other choice. Crystal depended on her.

“Samuel said Chance wasn’t sure how long he would stay in Sweetwater,” Beth said, drawing Tanya back into the conversation.

She blinked, focusing on the group of women who had been there for her through all the tragedies. “Yeah, he said he wasn’t sure how long he’ll be here, especially if he doesn’t get the job with Nick.”

“So Nick’s job brought him to Sweetwater?” Zoey took a sip of her iced tea.

“I think it was more than that. I think Samuel and his description of Sweetwater had a lot to do with it.” Samuel was a great counselor, and Tanya wondered if that had something to do with Chance coming to town. She just couldn’t shake the feeling he was hurting inside and needed help healing. She recognized the signs because she was in the same situation.

“Where’s he from?” Darcy asked.

“Louisville.”

“Well, it’s perfect timing. You’ve got a tenant and some extra money when you needed it the most. Nick might have his assistant. God works in wondrous ways.” Beth wiped her mouth and put the napkin beside her empty plate. “Samuel’s certainly glad Chance decided to come, even if it’s only for a while.”

Jesse leaned close, covering Tanya’s hand. “Just remember you’re not alone. Nick and I can help you financially if you need it.”

Overwhelmed by all their love, Tanya smiled, fighting the lump rising in her throat. “I know. You’ve mentioned it half a dozen times. But as I said before, Jesse, I have to stand on my own two feet. No more handouts.”

“Even with Samuel’s stamp of approval, I think we should take this meeting over to Tanya’s house and check this guy out.” Zoey gathered up her purse as though she was preparing to leave.

“And scare him off? No way! If you all descend on him, he won’t know what hit him. Remember, I need the extra money.”

“Okay, we won’t go over all at once. But I’ll be there later this afternoon.” Zoey rose.

Jesse slid from the large booth next. “I’ll come over after church tomorrow.”

“And I’ll see you tomorrow evening,” Beth added. “Samuel told me to tell you to bring Chance along to the barbecue.”

Darcy, the last to exit the booth, lumbered to her feet, putting her hand at the small of her back. “That leaves Monday after you get off work. I’ll come over after I visit my doctor.” She patted her round stomach. “Twelve weeks to go, but then who’s counting?”

“Certainly not you,” Tanya said with a laugh. Standing in the midst of her circle of friends, she shook her head. “You all are gonna scare the man away, so I don’t want any unexpected visits.” She started for the café door. “You’ll see him soon enough. Give him a chance to settle in.”

Her friends’ chuckles followed Tanya outside. She wouldn’t put it past each one of them to ignore what she’d said and show up right on time. She was lucky to have friends like them.

Tanya slid into her six-year-old white van, equipped with a lift for Crystal’s wheelchair, and backed out of her parking space. Turning down Third Avenue a few minutes later, she spied Chance, dressed in tan slacks and a black short-sleeved shirt, walking toward Berryhill Road with three large bags in his arms.

She pulled over to the curb and rolled down the window. “Want a ride?”

For a brief, few seconds he hesitated before he made his way toward the vehicle and placed one sack on the ground, then reached for the handle. After he climbed in, he settled two bags at his feet and one in his lap. “Thanks.”

Did he get the job? Tanya wondered but didn’t say anything. Instead, she drove in silence, aware of every minute movement Chance made. Even his clean, fresh scent saturated the air in the van.

Searching her mind for something to say, she dug her teeth into her bottom lip, painfully aware of one of her shortcomings. She wasn’t good at small talk, especially with strangers. Finally she lit upon a subject as she turned onto Berryhill Road. “It’s been unusually warm for even the end of September. I love winter and cold weather, but I’m afraid if this keeps up we won’t have much of one.” Boy, you would think she could come up with a better topic than the weather!

Silence.

Okay, maybe she should try a question. “Which do you prefer?” She threw a glance toward Chance.

His brow creased. “Prefer?”

“Cold or hot weather?” Why couldn’t she think of something better to talk about? Next, she would hear him snoring because she’d put him to sleep with her scintillating conversation.

“Cold.”

“Oh, then we have something in common.” The second she’d said the last sentence she’d wanted to take every word back. What she really wanted to talk about was the interview with Nick. But what if Chance hadn’t gotten the job?

She slid another look toward him as she pulled into her driveway. The neutral expression on his face told her nothing of what he was thinking. She decided she couldn’t wait for him to say anything about the interview. “Did Nick hire you?”

“Yes. I start Wednesday.”

“That’s great!” Why wasn’t he more excited?

When she switched off the engine, Chance opened his door and hopped out. Before he had an opportunity to escape upstairs to his apartment, Tanya hurried around the front of the van and took the bag he’d set on the ground.

“I can come back for it,” he said, striding toward the stairs.

She thought about her conversation with her friends at the café and the fact she wanted to get to know him better, not because she was interested in him as a man but because she needed to know more since he was her tenant. Yeah, right, Tanya, she silently scolded herself, knowing in her heart that wasn’t the real reason.

“Nonsense. That’s what neighbors are for—to help,” she hurriedly said as he put half the length of the driveway between them.

She saw him flinch when she’d said neighbors and wondered about his reaction. Somebody had hurt him. A neighbor? When he shifted at the top of the stairs so he could unlock his door, she glimpsed that haunted look again that aroused her compassion and her curiosity.

Chance disappeared inside as Tanya put her foot on the first step. Quickening her pace, she half expected him to return to the landing and take the bag she carried, then bar her from entering his apartment. But when she reached the threshold, she found him across the room. He stood stiffly at the kitchen table, staring at the floor as though a memory had grabbed hold of him and wouldn’t let go. The look that flashed across his face tore at her heart.

A board creaked as she moved inside. His head snapped up, his gaze snaring hers. A shutter descended over his expression, and he turned away and busied himself by emptying his bags.

“Are you all right?” she asked and crossed the large room. His expression earlier had for one brief moment reminded her of Tom’s that first time she had gone to the prison to see him.

Chance stiffened, stopping for a few seconds before resuming his task. “I’m fine.”

Although the words were spoken casually, she knew something she’d said had upset him. “I’m sorry if I—”

He pivoted toward her and took the sack from her. “Thanks for helping. I can take it from here.”

In other words, get lost, Tanya thought but wasn’t ready to take the not-so-subtle hint. She didn’t totally understand why, but she needed to help him, as though God was urging her to be there for him. Something in his past had caused him to stop believing. Her faith was the only thing that had held her life together over the past few years. Without Christ she would never have been able to piece the fragments together into a whole—albeit a fragile whole.

“That’s okay. I don’t mind helping. Crystal’s at church at a youth group activity, and I don’t have to pick her up for another twenty minutes.” She began removing the groceries from the paper bag she’d brought in, ignoring the scowl on his face.

While she put the food on the table, Chance took the items and shelved them, each movement economical. The short sleeves of his black cotton shirt didn’t hide the fact the man had well-defined muscles. This prodded the thought she should do something for exercise other than walking to and from the van.

He froze in midmotion. Her gaze lifted to his, and she saw a question in his eyes as he noted her interest. Heat scorched her cheeks. She didn’t usually stare at anyone, least of all a man. And then to be caught doing it mortified her.

She averted her head and asked the first thing that popped into her mind, “Did you mean it when you said you’d help me with a budget?”

“I never say anything unless I mean it.” He continued putting away his food, though thankfully his back was to her now.

If she’d had to look into his face, she would have fled the apartment. She couldn’t believe she had openly stared at him again and then worse been caught doing it. She really had no experience when it came to men. The only one she had seriously dated had been Tom her senior year in high school. Not long after she’d graduated, they had married. Crystal had been born two years later.

“I could use your help,” she murmured, surprised at her boldness in asking him for help.

“I can come over later tonight.” He paused for several heartbeats. “Unless you have other plans.”

Like a date, she thought, then nearly laughed out loud. There were some people in town who still thought she might have known about what Tom had been doing after Crystal’s accident. If it weren’t for her church and circle of friends, she would have left Sweetwater rather than endure their silent accusations that she had known Tom had been setting fire to all those barns. She’d never dreamed that her husband’s rage at Crystal’s accident and her paralysis would manifest itself that way. She’d been so wrapped up in dealing with Crystal’s recovery and her own manic depression she hadn’t seen the signs. Guilt still gnawed at her insides over not being there for Tom when he’d needed her the most. That guilt had plunged her into some dark times once, but she wouldn’t allow it to again.

“I don’t have any plans except picking Crystal up and then doing the chores that I leave for the weekend.”

His gaze fixed on her. “I’ll come over around eight then.”

“That’s fine.” His loneliness, a palpable force, reached out to her and drew her to him.

She took a step toward Chance, grabbing a can of green beans and thrusting it at him. Her hand trembled as he took it, his fingers brushing against hers. Her breath caught in her throat as his look delved beneath her surface as if he searched for her innermost thoughts.

He opened his mouth to say something but instead snapped it close, spun around and placed the can on a shelf. “Great, then I’ll see you later.”

She was being dismissed again, but for some reason she didn’t want to leave just yet. Even though tension vibrated in the air, a strong need to comfort—again she had no idea what or why—swamped her. She curled her hands into tight fists to keep from touching his arm.

“Listen, if there’s anything—”

“Thanks, for helping me put my groceries up. If you’re gonna pick up Crystal, you’d better get going.” He turned his back to her and opened another cabinet door.

Tanya backed up several paces, saying, “You’re right. I’d better leave.” She whirled around and hurried from the apartment.

Out on the landing she paused and stared down at her driveway and the back of her house. She couldn’t shake the feeling that God was pushing her toward Chance Taylor, that he needed a friend, someone to show him the power of the Lord. With quivering hands, she gripped the wooden railing.

Lord, how can I be Your instrument when my own life is so messed up?

No answer came to mind, leaving her feeling as though God was saying everyone can help another in need. Is that true? There was only one way to find out. She would be Chance’s friend because she knew what it was like not to have one. She also knew the difference her friends had made in her life. No one should go through life without people to care about him, and for some reason, she sensed Chance was totally alone.

With a glance at her watch, she noted the time. She had to pick up Crystal in less than five minutes. Rushing down the stairs, she withdrew her keys from her jeans pocket then climbed into the van.

Ten minutes later she pulled into the parking lot next to the church and jogged toward the back door that led into the classrooms. Usually Crystal was waiting for her by the entrance, but today she wasn’t around. As Tanya headed down the long hallway, she heard voices coming from the last room on the left where the youth group met.

She started to enter when her daughter’s words halted her.

“I don’t know what to do about them, Sean.”

“Ignore them. They aren’t worth your time.”

“I wish I could.”

The sob in Crystal’s voice contracted Tanya’s heart. She hurried inside. “Honey, are you all right?”

With her daughter’s back to her, she couldn’t see Crystal’s face as she answered, “Yeah, sure.”

“I’m sorry I’m late.” Tanya took a step forward.

“You aren’t that late. Sean’s been keeping me company.”

A strange expression flitted across Darcy’s son’s features before he pulled himself together. “Yeah, Mrs. Bolton. Crystal’s been receiving a lot of spam lately on the Internet.”

If Tanya hadn’t sensed the seriousness of the situation, she would have choked on her laughter. “Spam?”

Crystal finally swung her wheelchair around. “Yeah, I went to the wrong web site by mistake and now I’m getting all kinds of spam.”

Tanya knew that probably wasn’t what Sean and Crystal had been talking about, but she also knew by the tilt to her daughter’s chin she wouldn’t get it out of her until Crystal was ready to tell her. Her daughter had been keeping a lot of secrets lately. But that didn’t mean Tanya wouldn’t do some more checking around. When she had talked with Zoey and Beth earlier about this, they hadn’t known what was going on but said they would look into it for her. “I guess I can take a look at it, but I don’t know much about computers.”

Sean shot to his feet. “That’s okay. I’ll come over tomorrow after church and see what I can do.”

“That’s great. See, Crystal, how easy the problem can be fixed? From what Darcy says, Sean can do anything with a computer.”

“Yeah, Mom,” her daughter mumbled with her head down, her hands twisting together in her lap. “This may not be that easy to take care of.”

The sound of his feet pounding against the pavement lured him into a rhythmic trance as Chance ran down Berryhill Road, heading toward his temporary home. Sweat drenched his white T-shirt and face. He almost went past the one-story older house with a detached garage and apartment above it. He jogged a few yards beyond, slowed and circled back around.

Freedom, as he hadn’t experienced in years, called to him. He wanted to keep going, but his body screamed with exhaustion, not used to this form of exercise—not for the two years he’d spent incarcerated.

He came to a stop at the end of the driveway and bent over, drawing in lungfuls of rich oxygen, the air scented with the smells of the clean outdoors, nothing stale and musty about it. The rich colors that surrounded him no longer threw him.

He had dreamed for so long about running with the wind cooling his skin and the sun beating down to warm his chilled body that he could hardly believe he was finally doing it. He’d taken so much for granted before—not any more, not ever again. He cherished each fresh breath of freedom, each precious day he could walk out of a place unhindered, each time he could close his eyes and not worry about whether he would wake up the next morning or not. His life began the day he’d walked out of prison.

Was his new job thrusting him back into a world he didn’t want to be in? He needed a job and had been glad for a reference from Samuel, but the more he thought about the duties Nick wanted his assistant to do the more he felt as though he was being thrust back into the corporate life he’d wanted to avoid, that very life that had required hours and hours of overtime. If he had been with his wife and daughter when they had come home to find a stranger in their house, then maybe they would be alive today.

Still he needed the job. He would just have to take it one day at a time and not let his job consume his whole life. Not ever again.

With his heartbeat slowing, he strode toward the stairs that led to his apartment. A quick look toward the left halted his progress. Crystal sat on the deck, drawing something on a pad. Suddenly she threw down her pencil, tore off the sheet and crunched it into a ball. She tossed it into the yard where several other similar papers lay crumpled.

The frustration and anger that marked the teenager’s face drew him toward her. If his daughter were alive, he would want to be there for her. That was impossible, of course, but he could help Tom’s daughter.

“Nothing working out?” Chance gestured toward the wadded-up papers in the grass.

Crystal took the pencil her service dog had retrieved for her and looked up at him. “What’s the use? I’m not any good anyway.”

He descended the two steps to the yard and smoothed out one of the sheets. He whistled. “If this isn’t good, then I hate to think what you consider bad. Who is this?” He came back to sit in the lounge chair next to her.

“Just a guy. No one important.”

“Are all those attempts of him?”

Crystal nodded, peering away.

“Do you always waste your time drawing someone who isn’t important to you?”

She sighed, then shook her head. “He doesn’t know I’m alive.”

The anguish that wrenched her voice did the same to him. He cleared his throat and asked, “How do you know?”

“I just do. I might as well be dead for all he cares.”

The pain her words produced stole his breath. “I’m sorry. I…” Words failed him.