Читать книгу A Family for Thanksgiving - Patricia Davids - Страница 11

Clay called himself every kind of fool in the book as he faced Nicki. He’d spent the last seven years wondering if she’d forgiven him for running out on her.

Turns out, she’d barely given it a thought.

She was the reason he’d come back. Her picture, the one of her with tears in her eyes, had solidified a yearning he’d never truly understood. His heart ached at the sight of her while she acted as if it meant nothing—as if there’d never been anything between them.

Maybe there hadn’t been. Maybe his imagination had taken a simple high school infatuation and worked it into something special because he thought he’d never see her again.

During the past five days on the road south, he’d had plenty of time to think about what he was doing, but it wasn’t until he rolled into town that he began to question the wisdom of leaving a job and coming back to an uncertain welcome.

Was this really the path God wanted him to take?

Faith, the idea of trusting God to guide him, was too new. He’d been a loner for years, trusting only himself, trying not to care too much about anyone or anything. Until now.

Raking a hand through her curly blond hair, Nicki took a step back as if she intended to walk away, but she didn’t. Instead, she said, “If you’re worried about Jesse’s reaction, I assume that means the two of you haven’t reconciled.”

It was the look of compassion in her eyes and the tone of her voice more than her words that gave him a sliver of hope. She remembered.

Nicki had been his sounding board during his last year of high school. She knew that he and his brother didn’t see eye to eye on anything. She’d been a good friend. He let her down—the way he’d let everyone down.

“I’m not sure Jesse and I’ll ever reconcile. He blames me for Mom and Dad’s death.”

“Not as much as you blame yourself.”

She’d always been good at reading him. Clay swallowed hard as old emotions threatened to swamp him. It had been his fault. Nothing would change that fact.

“You can shop all day for another guilty party, but you won’t find one. It was my idea to climb up and spray-paint graffiti on the Alma water tower that night, a stupid, dangerous stunt if there ever was one. I was the one who got arrested. I was one who called Dad to come bail me out.”

He swallowed hard against the pain of those memories. “If I hadn’t done it, Dad and Mom wouldn’t have been in the car when that semi crossed the center line. We’d still have parents, and Jesse and Maya wouldn’t hate my guts.”

“They don’t hate you, Clay. You’re their brother.”

“Okay, maybe Maya doesn’t, she always was the peacekeeper in the family. But Jesse hates me.”

“I’m sure you’re mistaken.”

“I’ve talked to him on the phone once since I left. He told me his wife had been killed, then he told me not to come home. It was pretty clear. I’m not welcome.”

She looked down, as if at a loss for words. Clay studied her face. He’d dreamed of her so often that he thought he knew her every feature by heart. He remembered the face of a girl. The woman standing in front of him had a quiet strength about her that was new. She’d matured, grown more beautiful—if that was possible.

The blustery wind put color in her cheeks. A cluster of curls from her shoulder-length hair blew across her full lips. She used one hand to drag her hair back and tuck it behind her ear. It was a gesture she used to use just before she gave him one of her shy, sweet smiles. Seeing it brought a flood of memories.

The two of them studying before the big algebra test, finding the courage to ask her to the dance, walking with her in the moonlight.

Now that he was with her again he knew those memories would never be enough. He wanted new ones. He wanted to get to know this new woman all over again.

When she looked up he saw deep indecision written clearly on her features. “I really do need to get going, Clay.”

He didn’t want to see her go, but didn’t know how to stop her from leaving. The irony of it wasn’t lost on him. He was good at leaving, not at staying.

God, I believe You brought me home for a reason. Show me what it is.

He nodded and smiled politely. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

He’d make sure of it.

A ghost of a smile curled the corner of her lips. “It’s a small town.”

“Smaller than it used to be.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s the sad truth.”

Sorry for his insensitive remark, he quickly added, “The people here know how to survive. My granddad told me the place was nearly wiped off the map just a few years after it was founded.”

“Yes. I know the story. It’s been repeated a lot lately.”

He followed her gaze across the road to where the shell of the rebuilt Old Town Hall stood out like a sore thumb, all glaring new plywood and silver sheets of insulation. It was clear the town had copied the size and style of the old structure.

Glancing westward, he saw the church had survived intact. The sturdy, square white building was another relic of High Plains history. Its row of arched windows had looked upon the town’s growth from a simple frontier mill town to a bustling city of more than three thousand residents.

Clay said, “I understand their need to replace that special part of their heritage.”

“Our heritage,” she said quietly. “It’s your home, too.”

His eyes locked with hers. Time stood still. It would only be home if he could find a way to earn back her friendship and her trust along with that of his brother and sister.

From down the street, someone called Nicki’s name breaking the connection between them. He looked over her shoulder to see her mother coming toward them. Glenis Appleton was pushing a dark blue stroller with a bright-eyed toddler in it. Since the tyke looked like it had been swallowed alive by a hooded pink coat, Clay assumed it was a little girl.

Slightly breathless, Glenis stopped beside Nicki. “We finished early so we thought we’d met you halfway.”

Stooping to the child’s level, Nicki asked, “Did you have fun at Nana’s quilting class?”

The little girl kicked her feet and jabbered with excitement.

Grinning, Glenis said, “She slept through the whole thing.”

Nicki rose. “Thanks for taking her this afternoon. Mom, you remember Clay Logan, don’t you?”

To say Nicki’s mother looked stunned was putting it mildly.

Clay raised two fingers to touch the brim of his hat. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Appleton.”

As Glenis glanced between Clay and Nicki, her expression hardened. “I didn’t know you were back in town, Clay.”

“I just got in.”

“I see.” Her gaze switched to Nicki. “You should get Kasey out of this cold wind.”

“You’re right.” Nicki accepted the stroller handles from her mother.

Her daughter eyed Clay seriously for a few seconds, then her round little face broke into a wide grin. She raised her hand and wiggled her fingers. “Hi. Hi.”

Squatting in front of child, Clay reached in and flicked her nose. “Hi, yourself, sugar face.”

Nicki pulled the stroller back a pace. “Come on, honey, let’s get you home. Clay, it was nice seeing you again. Have a good visit.”

Clay rose slowly and stood on the sidewalk staring after them as they walked away. His hopes, like the gazebo where he’d once kissed Nicki, had been reduced to ruins in a matter of seconds.

She had a child. He was too late.

Over the years Clay had considered the possibility that Nicki would find someone else. Sometimes, he even hoped that she’d found someone to love her as she deserved to be loved. But to see it—to know for certain she loved another man—cut deeper than he had imagined possible.

Nicki had gone on with her life. He hadn’t.

Racing to her rescue had seemed like a good idea five days ago. As it turned out, he was years too late. She didn’t need rescuing. Even the town he wanted to help rebuild was well on the way to recovery. He’d driven thousands of miles to discover no one needed him.

He ran a hand over the stubble on his chin. So what now?

Leave again? And go where? He’d been north, south, east and west of Kansas. What good had it done him? He might pretend he was a carefree cowboy, but the specter of his failures followed him wherever he traveled.

He’d made so many mistakes. Each one led to another and another until it seemed like his whole life had been one long string of screwups. Just as Jesse had predicted.

Give me a clue here, God. What am I supposed to do?

Somehow, Clay knew he needed to start over, to find what had been missing in his life. As much as he’d wanted that to be Nicki, it wasn’t going to happen.

The knowledge was more depressing than the ruins of the town.

Nicki stopped at her front steps and lifted Kasey out of her stroller. Her mother folded the carrier and followed Nicki into the house.

Sitting on the camel-colored sofa, Nicki divested Kasey of her plush coat and mittens and waited for her mother to make some comment about Clay. She didn’t have long to wait.

“Nicki, did you know Clay was coming back to High Plains?”

“Nope. I was as surprised to see him as you were.” Surprised, angry, confused, attracted.

“I thought perhaps that was why you wanted me to watch Kasey today.”

“I told you I had an appointment to get my hair cut today.” Grabbing a strand, she waved it toward her mother. “See—no split ends.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that you were lying.”

“Could have fooled me.” Nicki leaned forward to tug Kasey’s green knit top down over her plump little belly. As far as Nicki was concerned, it was one of her foster daughter’s cutest features. Of course, her wheat-blond hair, bright blue eyes, dimpled cheeks and pudgy fingers were all a close second.

Kasey patted her chest. “Chirt.”

Nicki beamed. “That’s right. That’s your shirt. You’re so smart.”

“Owey.” Kasey pointed to the pink scar on her forehead.

“Yes, that was your owey, but it’s all better now.” Nicki planted a kiss on the spot to prove it.

Kasey had been found the night of the tornado injured and alone. She remained the great mystery of the storm. No one knew who she was. It was as if she had literally been dropped out of the sky.

Extensive investigations by the local and state police and even the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children had come up empty in the search for her family or her identity, though some imposters had claimed she was their daughter.

At first Nicki had prayed daily that Kasey would be reunited with her mother or her father. Knowing that someone, somewhere must be frantic about the child had fueled those prayers.

Lately, however, those prayers had become harder and harder to voice. Her love for her foster daughter was growing by leaps and bounds. The idea of losing her had become almost unbearable.

Glenis sat on the sofa beside Nicki. “I just thought it was odd that you should run into Clay Logan the moment he set foot in town.”

“The Lord moves in mysterious ways, Mom.”

Affronted, Glenis folded her hands in her lap. “I hardly think you need to be flippant about it. I remember how you cried yourself to sleep for weeks after that boy left.”

“It was a long time ago. We were kids. I got over it.”

“You say that, but I’m not so sure.”

“Surely you don’t think I’ve carried a torch for him all this time?”

“Well, haven’t you?”

“No. I’ve dated any number of men, a few seriously. But because I haven’t met the right man is no reason to assume I’m still pining over Clay. Besides, my friends have snapped up all the good men around here.”

The tornado might have wreaked havoc on the town, but the twister had certainly brought with it a dose of romance. Maya Logan had fallen for her boss, Greg Garrison, the most eligible bachelor in town. They had married in August. Then the two of them quickly added Tommy Jacobs, a six-year-old foster child to their family.

Reverend Michael Garrison had recently become engaged to Heather Waters, the founder of Helping Hands Christian Mission. Heather, originally from High Plains, had returned to help with the recovery efforts, and it looked like she would be staying for good.

Josie Cane, who ran the after-school day-care program at the church where Nicki taught preschool, was head over heels in love with Silas Marstow. And engaged—thanks to the matchmaking efforts of Josie’s niece and Silas’s daughter.

Even Lexi Harmon, the town’s veterinarian and her ex-husband, Colt Ridgeway, the police chief, had rekindled their marriage and were back together—where Nicki always thought they belonged.

It warmed Nicki’s heart to see so many people she cared about finding love in the face of the town’s tragedy, but sometimes she felt the green imp of jealousy sitting on her shoulder. Why hadn’t it happened for her?

And now Clay Logan had returned.

No, don’t even go there!

Nicki scolded herself for the unbidden thought. She hadn’t pined for him. She wasn’t waiting for him to show up. She was living the life God meant for her to live. That life didn’t include a cowboy with wanderlust in his veins.

“I want you to be happy,” her mother continued. “I want you to find someone you can settle down with.”

Leaning forward, Nicki ruffled the baby’s hair. “I am happy. I have someone. I have Kasey.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

Nicki sat back and met her mother’s critical stare. “The settling down kind of men I’ve met want children.”

She tried hard not to sound bitter, but she couldn’t help it. “Since I can’t have children, that’s been something of a date killer when the subject comes up.”

“I’m sure there’s a man out there willing to adopt a child once you’re married.”

“I’ll keep looking for him. In the mean time, thanks again for watching Kasey. Let me buy you lunch next week as payment.”

Glenis rose and bent to place a kiss on Kasey’s head. “I don’t need payment to watch this little doll.”

Nicki smiled. “She is that.”

After gathering up her purse and slipping into her dark blue wool coat, Glenis headed to the door. Nicki followed her, leaving Kasey happily pulling a half-dozen toys from a large red plastic bin at the end of the sofa until she found her favorite stuffed animal. A small pink bear given to her in the hospital by Layla Logan.

In the entryway, Glenis paused. “Are you working at the Old Town Hall tonight?”

“Yes. What about you?”

“Not tonight, I have a meeting of the library committee.”

Giving her mother a quick hug, Nicki said, “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m doing fine. I love my job. I love the kids I work with. I have a great life.”

Glenis returned the hug. “Worrying is a mother’s job.”

“Then at least take a vacation day. I’m not throwing myself at Clay Logan’s feet simply because he’s back for a visit.”

Glenis pulled open the door letting in a gust of cold wind. “I’m sorry if I upset you by talking about him.”

“You didn’t upset me,” Nicki answered truthfully. Clay had done that without any help.

Where was he now? Had he gone out to the ranch? How long was he staying? Would she see him again?

Nicki crossed her arms against the chill as she closed the door behind her mother. All questions and no answers, that certainly summed up her relationship with Clay in the past.

Theirs had been a friendship she valued deeply. If only they had kept things friendly and not let their teenage emotions take over. What she felt back then hadn’t been love. It had been a high school crush and nothing more.

In a way, it had been good for her to see Clay again. Perhaps now she truly could get over him the way she always claimed she had.