by Tari Faris
“Whose idea was it?”
Nate leaned forward. “The new librarian, Libby Kingsley, came up with the idea. As soon as I heard it, I had to take it right to the board.”
Libby? She’d said she didn’t even know his brother. Then again, maybe she was just telling him what he wanted to hear. Maybe the cookies were just a ploy to soften the road for her precious schoolhouse. Memories of Becky and her manipulative ways flashed through his mind.
Austin scanned the crowd, which was abuzz with the news. Libby stood in the middle, red-faced and wide-eyed.
“Austin, you said the last time you two worked together was in high school. Are you looking forward to working with your brother after all this time?”
And there it was. Be honest and look like a jerk, or play this game Nate started and hope it didn’t blow up in his face. But the fact was he needed good publicity or the business was done. And like it or not, everyone was charmed by Nate.
He dropped his arm around his brother’s shoulders. “Of course I am. Nothing could please me more. Right, little brother?”
“You two seem to have an idyllic brother relationship. Have you always gotten along this well?” Sydney shoved the microphone toward Nate.
Austin squeezed Nate’s shoulder extra tight. If Nate was going to use this interview to force his hand on working together, then he had better be ready to play the part of happy brother.
four
Did Austin expect him to lie? Nate swallowed hard as he took in the crowd. Members from his congregation, his board, even Olivia, stood in the gathered crowd awaiting his reply.
He peeked at Austin out of the corner of his eye. His brother’s forced smile and tightening grip on his shoulder sent a solid message, but he hadn’t meant to back Austin into a corner. He’d just been honest. He did trust his brother. He did hope to work with him. But no doubt if he answered honestly now, he’d wreck every chance he had at rebuilding his relationship with Austin.
Nate cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, what was the question?”
Sydney laughed, but her narrowed eyes testified that she was about to give up on this story and the interview altogether. “You seem to have an idyllic brother relationship. Do you think that will carry into your working relationship?”
He couldn’t lie. He was a pastor, for goodness’ sake. Perhaps he could be intentionally vague. “We’ve had disagreements and will probably have a few about the square. But what brothers agree on everything?”
“What was the biggest thing you ever fought about?”
Really? Wasn’t this supposed to be about landscaping? Maybe she was just trying to take the personal approach, but no way he was airing their dirty laundry out here in front of the town. Who knew what his brother would throw out, and that wouldn’t help his image as the pastor either.
He’d go for something juvenile. “In eighth grade, he kissed my girlfriend.”
“Sarah Fredericks was not your girlfriend.” Austin shoved his arm and laughed. A forced laugh if Nate had ever heard one.
“Was too.” He crossed his arms and tried to play the part of the teasing brother. Not that it was hard. This was how he wanted his relationship with his brother to be. This was how it had been.
“Let’s hope Sarah Fredericks doesn’t show up while you two are working together.” Sydney focused on the camera and said a few more words before someone yelled it was a wrap. She looked back at them with her winning smile. “That went well. Thank you for your time. I’ll be in touch, gentlemen.”
Austin nodded toward his house and started walking that way without so much as a pause to see if Nate would follow. Which he did. But Nate didn’t know if it was because he was simply following Austin’s lead or because he had a few choice words for Austin as well—ones that couldn’t be shared in public.
His brother may have thought that being on camera had made Nate nervous. But it was Austin who made him nervous. All he wanted to do was fix his relationship with his brother, but every attempt just seemed to make things worse.
Then there had been the fact that he’d been distracted by a five-foot-ten platinum blonde. Olivia hadn’t so much as glanced in his direction as she stood between Derek Kensington and Ted Wilks.
Luke didn’t care for the guys much, but Nate assumed it was old rivalries. After all, if anyone refused to judge a person by their past, it was Nate. But the way both guys had been looking at Olivia burned something inside him. Hadn’t she bid on one of them during the bachelor auction last summer? She hadn’t won, but the memory of her yelling out a bid had stamped itself in his memory.
Then again, he’d given up the right to have an opinion on who she dated.
He followed Austin into his rental and resisted the urge to slam his fist into the wall. His restraint was partly out of self-control and partly because he feared a well-placed punch might bring the place down. “You really think this place is better than sharing a roof with me?”
Austin didn’t comment as he disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Nate’s mind to circle around to Olivia again.
It had been a stab when she crossed her name off the shelter list on Sunday. At least she hadn’t left the kids’ ministry. She came alive when she taught those kids. He’d miss that—er, the kids would miss that.
Nate dropped into the nearest chair as Shiro nuzzled her nose in his hands. What was he going to do now?
Austin reappeared with a Coke in each hand and held one out to Nate. “I bet you thought you were pretty funny with that ‘My brother is a great man and I’ll help him as much as he’ll let me’ comment. Well, that sure blew up in our faces, little brother.”
Nate took the can and popped it open. “I wasn’t trying to be funny. I do think you’re a great man and—”
“So you were trying to manipulate me into hiring you as my assistant?” Austin leaned against the door frame, opened his can, and took a long gulp.
“I wasn’t manipulating you. She asked me a question and I was honest. I was trying to help—”
“Help? Don’t you see? They expect us to be pals now wherever we go. Work side by side—the symbol of family and small-town community.” Austin straightened and flung his arms wide, nearly spilling the Coke. “If I want to walk away with any business whatsoever and you want to keep your congregation, then we’re going to have to keep playing the part of best brothers. Do you see any other way?”
“We could get along. Forget the past.” Nate mumbled the words as he sank back in the chair.
“You mean me forget the past.” Austin spun the can in his hands a few times before he locked eyes again with Nate. “Yeah, well, I’m still living with the consequences of your actions. We can’t all start a new life and a new career. Some of us have to stay behind and pick up the pieces.”
Silence hung in the room. It wasn’t like this was a new argument. Austin was right—Nate had left a wake of destruction. But how does one atone for sins like that?
“Have you been to see Dad lately?” Austin claimed the corner spot on the couch, leaned forward on his knees, and rubbed the back of his neck.
“I stopped by yesterday but he was napping. You?”
“I went up on Monday and this morning.” Austin sat back and met Nate’s gaze. “I settled the rest of his stuff.”
Nate swallowed against his tightening throat. “Did he remember you?”
Austin shrugged. “One of the visits he did.”
Man, it was hard watching their dad slip away like this. Such a harsh disease. “And the other?”
“He introduced me as Edward.”
“Crazy Uncle Eddy?”
Their mom’s brother had always been an odd one. Never married and had a beard that came to his chest. Although Nate would take that over being compared to Uncle Greg—the screwup. The one who had abandoned his family.
Nate leaned back and rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “You do sort of look like Uncle Eddy.”
“Thanks a lot. Then you look like h
im too. People always say we look alike.” Shiro laid her head on Austin’s leg, and he scratched her neck as he stared off into space. “Do you remember when we tried to put spiders in his beard while he slept?”
“How could I forget? We got grounded for a month.” Nate let out a laugh and Austin joined in.
Nate’s breath died in his chest. How long since he’d made his brother laugh? This was what he wanted. A brother to laugh with at their childhood memories and struggle with through their dad’s illness. “We had a lot of good times together.”
Austin’s face sobered. “That was a long time ago.”
Just like that, the moment was gone. Nate pressed his lips together. If he could get Austin to let down that wall long enough, he just might remember the friendship they’d had and might have again.
“When are you going up next to see Dad? Maybe if we go together it’ll be easier to place us.” And maybe Austin would see Nate wasn’t like his uncle in every way. He could be depended on when it came to family.
Austin didn’t comment for a long time, then took another gulp of his Coke. “I’m going tomorrow at ten in the morning. Want to ride with me?”
Nate gave a mental scan of his calendar. Tomorrow wasn’t ideal, but he’d make it work. “I have an appointment, but it should be done by then. I’ll meet you there.”
Austin lifted one eyebrow, his doubt evident.
“I’ll be there. We’re in this together. I promise.” He shouldn’t promise that. Too much in his life was out of his control between pastoring, coaching, and the fire department, but he couldn’t let this opportunity with his brother pass.
Austin nodded once. “And the square? Are you in for pulling off the best brothers act?”
Nate’s gut tightened as all the ways this could end badly trailed through his mind. The headline “Local Pastor Misleads Entire Congregation” being at the top. “I’ll do it. But you have to let me help.”
“Fine. You can help. But I’m hiring an assistant of my choosing. And don’t expect this to change anything between us.”
Nate stood but didn’t comment. There was no agreement on that. After all, he was counting on it to change everything. That was the only reason he was willing to put his reputation and career on the line like this.
Libby hated waiting, and now she seemed to be waiting on everything: the library, news from Luke and Hannah, even moving into her own place. She pressed her hand against the twisting in her stomach. Being one part hungry and three parts stressed wasn’t going well for her digestion. She couldn’t do anything about the stress, but maybe it was time to eat.
Libby set her book aside and headed to the kitchen, letting her fuzzy socks slide across the wooden floor. Her phone rang and she claimed it from her purse as she walked by. “Hey, Mom.”
“How is everything in Heritage?”
“Fine.” Libby pulled out a bowl from the cupboard, then bent down to grab the cereal but came up empty. Right. She’d finished that yesterday.
“That wasn’t convincing.” Her mother’s gentle voice carried over the line, stirring a well of homesickness in her chest. What she would give to be having this conversation curled up next to her mom, sipping a cup of warm milk as they binge-watched old episodes of Downton Abbey. Maybe she’d settle for a glass of milk.
She opened the fridge. No milk. “Maybe moving here was a mistake.”
“Do you want to come home?”
“Yes. No. Maybe.” Why did she carry all her stress in her stomach? A piece of toast might help. She opened the cupboard. No bread. Seriously? She’d managed to eat through all Hannah and Luke’s food over the week.
“I know I gave you a hard time about moving there, and I’ll admit that letting you go has been hard. But I think it’s been good for you. This past week I’ve seen some of the old Libby reemerge, and . . . I’m proud of you.”
“So, you think I should stay?” She slammed the cupboard shut, then swallowed and pressed her hand against her stomach as it rolled over. “I think I’m getting the flu.”
“Calm down. Have you prayed about all this?”
Why did everyone want her to pray all the time? “I will.” Maybe.
Darcy dropped his bowl at her feet. Right. She wasn’t the only hungry one.
“You can trust an unknown future to a known God.” Her mother’s voice caught, and she cleared her throat before continuing. “I clung to that quote by Corrie ten Boom in the early days of Luke’s disappearance, and the other day I tacked it up on my mirror again. Even when things feel confusing and dark, you can trust God.”
“I need to go get some groceries.” She hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, but she just wasn’t up to talking about God right now. “Love you, Mom.”
“Love you too.”
Libby dropped the phone in her pocket and reached for her keys. She eyed her bike as she slid into her car. Petunia always helped her think. But she couldn’t manage the dog food on her bike. She pulled out of the driveway and headed north on Henderson.
Was staying in Heritage the right decision? Or going home? Then again, making the right decision didn’t seem like something she was good at. She’d trusted the wrong guy in London, she’d trusted the wrong friend in college, she’d even trusted Luke’s dad when he told her he was just taking Luke for ice cream. That had been her life’s—and probably her mother’s—biggest regret.
Maybe she needed to take people out of the equation and just look at the facts. She was a person of logic. Research. Maybe it was time for some logic on staying in Heritage or not. An old-fashioned pro/con list should do it.
Pro—living near Luke.
Con—he wasn’t here.
Pro—he’d eventually return.
That left her in the positive, but the library was more than she bargained for, and that was a huge con. And if it went to the square, she’d have to work with Austin. After the look he’d given her during the interview, she could assume working with him would be a Godzilla-sized con.
Then again, she could create a library any way she wanted. The programs were in her full control—pro. Not to mention she had full control of the books ordered—pro. A year from now she’d still be the librarian and the Godzilla-sized con would have moved on. Pro. Pro. Pro.
But the only friend she had in town was moving away—con.
You want me to stay here, God? Here’s a prayer for You. How about that someone I know would stay in town? Libby dismissed the thought. God didn’t care about her or her problems, no matter what her mother said.
The local grocery store came into view. The storefront still held the look of an old general store, and Libby had a glimpse of what this town had been once upon a time. Living in a quaint small town—pro.
The printed sign on the door stating the credit card machines were down and they didn’t accept out-of-state checks stopped her. Okay, not all small-town pieces were a pro. Maybe it was time to pay a visit to the local bank and open an account. That is, if she decided to stay. Until then, she’d have to make do with the twenty dollars she had. It should be enough.
Libby claimed the cart and priced dog food and milk first. After grabbing cereal and bread, she aimed for the eggs. Her heart did that little flip thing at the sale sign posted above. How sad was her life that a sale on eggs was the highlight of her day?
Her phone rang and she pulled it out as she checked the eggs for any cracks. “Hello?”
“Hey. This is Olivia. I haven’t talked to you since the interview. How are you doing?”
“Fine.” She set the eggs in the cart and did her best to steer it toward the checkout with one hand.
“I’ll get right to the point. Grand Rapids has fallen through for now, so how do you feel about a roommate?”
Libby paused her cart. “A roommate?”
The prayer she’d flung at God came to mind. But God didn’t do this. Olivia staying in town happened even before she’d prayed that. So that didn’t count. Did it?
“If you don’t l
ike that idea—”
“No.”
“No?”
“I mean no, that wasn’t the hesitation. I love the idea.”
“Perfect. I’ll swing by Luke’s in an hour and we can talk details.”
An answered prayer might be stretching it. But a roommate was one more in the pro category. The pros were tipping the scales. And getting to move into her own space was a definite pro.
Olivia ended the call just as Libby’s phone buzzed with an incoming text.
Mom
Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God.—Corrie ten Boom
Libby read the message a few times, then slid her phone back in her purse. But what if she didn’t feel like she knew God?
She made her way to the checkout, recalculating what she’d chosen. She should just make it. Thank goodness for no tax on groceries. It wasn’t a fancy selection of food, but it would make do until she could get more cash.
Libby dug her twenty-dollar bill out of her wallet. Maybe she’d have enough left to buy a pack of gum. How pathetic.
A man stepped up behind her and started emptying his basket. Perhaps if she met more of the friendly people Olivia kept talking about, this place wouldn’t seem so lonely. Libby turned with a smile. “Hi, I’m Li—”
Austin stood behind her, a look of annoyance on his face. “I believe we’ve met.”
Looked like she was back to Mr. Mean Hot Neighbor. No, she had to stop thinking of him like that. But Austin seemed too normal—too nice. Mr. Williams. Yes, Mr. Williams was better.
Libby turned back to her groceries inching toward the checkout. The young girl working the register seemed new. Austin shifted behind her and checked the time. Poor girl, but couldn’t she move it along?
Libby cast a side glance at his purchases: black licorice, peppermint sticks, and two cases of Ensure. Was the guy thirty or eighty?
The cashier said something to her, and Libby passed over her twenty.
“Um, the total is twenty-two dollars and forty-seven cents.” The teenage clerk smiled at her again.