Hands clasped beneath her chin, Shelby hung back. “I’m nervous. What if despite what his wife thinks, David doesn’t accept my apology?”
Just like a woman to expect emotional support after shutting a guy down. “Ruby will keep things moving in the right direction.” As he walked ahead of Shelby, Scott’s work boots crunched across red dogwood leaves.
She scrambled after him. “Well, nothing like you acting mad at me too!”
Scott turned around so fast Shelby almost bumped into him. “What do you want from me, Shelby? Maybe you can clarify. Because I can’t seem to get it right.”
Astonishment and hurt clouded her blue eyes. “To be friendly and professional. Is that so much to ask?”
A muscle worked in Scott’s jaw. “I don’t want you to mistake friendliness for flirting again, so maybe we should stick to simply professional.” Shutting someone else out behind a wall provided a grim sense of satisfaction. He ignored the guilt that partnered the sensation.
Shelby’s lips parted, and her eyes sparked with the potential for a fight. “Fine, but you need to add one more thing. Respect.”
His mouth fell open. “Respect? When have I failed to respect you?”
“How about all the times you pushed me into doing things I didn’t want to?” Cocking her head to one side, Shelby planted her fist on her hip.
“I told you why I wanted you to participate in the house reno.” Scott held one of his hands to one side, palm up. “And not only did you end up learning new skills, you liked them.”
“Even so, you could have asked. Explained straight-out.”
Scott thought they’d cleared the air of all this stuff already. He ran a hand over his hair in frustration. “Well, again, I’m sorry.”
Shelby’s other fist contacted her other hip. “Then there was the way you made me feel today.”
His eyebrows flew up. He briefly considered walking back down the sidewalk to his truck. If they were in this bad a shape, how could they face the Barnes? Might as well hang it up. But that would be childish and wouldn’t solve anything.
“What you said about Betsy Lou—I know I need to work on my patience with people who interrupt me, but I don’t think she’s less than me in any way. You assumed the worst about me. Even if it had been true, you certainly weren’t ‘speaking the truth in love.’”
Scott’s jaw dropped again, but this time, not from righteous indignation. Because she was right. Dead right. He’d fallen back into judging her the minute she rejected him. It might make him feel better, but it certainly wasn’t Christlike. It made him what he accused her of being—prideful.
Before he could reply, the front door of the two-story house opened, and a middle-aged woman with short, brown hair looked out.
“You must be Scott and Shelby.” Adjusting a burgundy cardigan over her slightly rounded middle, she stepped onto the rocking chair porch framed by the dark-red leaves of Virginia sweetspire shrubs. “I’m Leah Barnes. Thank you for coming! Please, come in.”
Shelby smiled and stepped forward quickly, while Scott took deep breaths in an attempt to cool the heat he felt coloring his face. After shaking Leah’s hand, they entered a traditional foyer with a parquet floor, crystal chandelier, and stairs with a Persian carpet runner, elegant if a bit dated.
Leah smiled, noticing him inhaling the tantalizing aroma from the back of the house. “That’s my pumpkin bread. Would you like a slice and perhaps a cup of coffee?”
“I won’t turn you down on that, Mrs. Barnes.” Scott grinned. Pleasantries felt like a relief after the encounter with Shelby—and his own inadequacies.
“I’m glad to hear it. I made it especially for my guests today.” She gestured to a parlor through a wide, cased opening on their left, where a baby grand piano added an extra touch of class to long drapes and plush, light-blue carpet. Scott immediately pictured the room with hardwoods. Shelby’s speculative assessment told him she did the same. He ventured a tentative, knowing smile at her, which she returned. “Please, have a seat, and I’ll bring you the coffee. Sugar and cream?”
“Yes, thanks.”
“Shelby, would you like some too?” Leah leaned close to Shelby to get her attention.
“Oh. No, thank you.” Shelby clutched her purse close to her side as she entered the parlor, casting a quick glance to David Barnes before smiling at Ruby and Lester, seated on a button-tucked sofa.
Their last encounter with the man all too fresh in mind, Scott resisted an irritating instinct to keep Shelby behind him—though she’d probably rebuff his protection today—but thankfully, David stood from a wing chair with a conciliatory expression and held out his hand.
“Welcome.” He shook hands with Scott, then Shelby. When she stood as far back from him as possible, David ducked his head. “I promise this isn’t an ambush. I’ll be on my best behavior today. I’m rather ashamed of how I acted when we last met.”
Shelby accepted a spot on the cushion Ruby patted next to her, leaving another wing chair for Scott. As she took her place, crossing her legs, she said, “I’m sorry, too, and that’s why I asked Ruby to contact you. I regret upsetting you and your father. I just … didn’t know what else to do with the photo I found. But I shouldn’t have seen him without your permission.”
David nodded. “I understand, and I’m sorry you got dragged into my family’s sorry mess. We hoped the sale of the house would go off in a quiet manner. Wishful thinking, right?”
“But according to what Leah told us earlier, God has been at work, so some good’s coming out of all this,” Ruby said.
“Needless to say, I’d buried the anger toward my mother I thought I’d dealt with.” David glanced at his wife as she entered with Scott’s coffee and a slice of pumpkin bread on a small stoneware plate. “Leah knew it all along. She suspected my health problems over the years stemmed from those unresolved issues. But I refused to discuss it with her. Until now.”
“David came home very upset that night.” Leah handed the refreshments to Scott before lifting a laptop from a white-padded chair near the window. “When he told me how he’d threatened you, I felt so bad. Of course, we’d never bring legal action. Please know he spoke from a sense of self-preservation. But what he shared about the photo made me start searching online.”
“Did you find anything?” Propping his hands on his knees, Lester sat forward.
Leah nodded, opening her laptop. “I did. The next day, I traced Jeff Wilson’s accounting firm to Philadelphia, where his family came from. Jeff’s son, Matt, was pictured with him on the website. And look at this.”
Leah tapped on the keyboard then came to kneel between Scott and the group on the sofa. Scott took a bite of the still-warm pumpkin bread as he leaned over to see. Under a banner headline that read “Wilson Accounting,” the screen displayed an older but still handsome, salt-and-pepper-haired man in a suit, standing beside a younger, shorter accountant. “This is Jeff’s son, Matt.” Beside the computer screen, she held up a photograph of her husband, twenty pounds lighter and with a full head of hair. “And this is David, ten years ago.”
“Different hair color and face shape, but look at those eyes!” Shelby pointed to the computer screen. “Practically identical.”
“Exactly.” Leah glanced around at them, waiting for the realization of what she was saying to sink in. “I stared at the two of them for an hour before I worked up the nerve to show David. Then, with his permission, I searched for Matt on social media. And we found this.”
Settling on the floor, Leah opened another web browser, and they all strained to see as an enlarged, close-up photo of Matt Wilson appeared. His head tilted in a familiar pose against that of a woman Scott immediately recognized, despite the ravages of age and probable hard living.
David muttered from his wing chair. “As you can see, my mother is alive.”
Chapter Twenty-One
With a glow of satisfaction, Shelby finished wiping down the new, stainless steel oven in the Wentworths
’ kitchen and turned the dial to four hundred. Sensing someone behind her, she whipped around to glare at the trail of sawdust Scott’s bag-covered shoes made across the floor.
“I just finished cleaning everything in here, and I do mean everything.” Shelby made a gesture that encompassed the refinished and repainted off-white cabinets, as well as the floor itself. Just the small movement made her wince. The day before, she’d helped the crew not only roll out plastic and drive in uneven nails for the floor sanding, but also tape shut vents, lights, and fireplaces.
Scott froze. “Sorry.” He watched her retrieve a pizza from the freezer. “That looks good.”
Shelby smiled as she opened the cardboard box. Knowing Halloween promised to be another long day, she’d brought several pizzas and garden salads to feed everyone. She’d made sure the men sanded the hardwood floors in here first—early in the morning when they threw open the doors and windows—so she could access the kitchen in time to make dinner.
Now, the men worked upstairs, but the pervasive dust made her grateful she’d spent most of the day outside. Even though she had to put plants in the ground where she sometimes encountered earthworms. She hadn’t screamed. Not once. But a couple of breaks had been required to provide time for the disgusting creatures to burrow deeper.
She wanted to know if Scott approved her efforts but didn’t dare ask. They were back on friendly terms, but not of the joking variety. Just business. After leaving the Barnes residence, he’d pulled her aside to apologize for his condescending attitude. When he’d actually thanked her for reminding him to speak the truth in love, she’d stumbled into an explanation of how dancing brought back bad ballet memories and how she hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings.
A shutter had come down over his eyes, and he’d waved a hand to stop her. “Regardless of why you didn’t want to dance with me, I shouldn’t have acted like I did.”
Now, taking extra-large steps to limit the tracks he left, Scott laid a spackle, a tube of wood filler, and a huge bowl filled with bags of candy on the counter.
“What’s that for?”
He looked askance at her. “Trick-or-treaters.” Ripping open the first bag, he started pouring in the mini chocolate bars.
She wanted to protest the dust on his clothes and hands but decided it wasn’t worth it since the candies were individually wrapped. “Who’s going to answer the door? I’m preparing dinner.”
“I will. I’m ready to clean up and wipe down the floors with mineral spirits. We’re on schedule for three coats of polyurethane tomorrow.”
“Yea, more stink.” Shelby pulled the pizza pan she’d brought from home out of a lower cabinet.
Adding the contents of the final bag of candy, Scott mixed with his fingers. “You don’t have to help.”
She bristled. “I can wipe floors too.” Then she softened. “Actually, I can’t believe all I missed during every renovation. Now, it feels like if I miss a day, I miss something important.”
Hoping Scott might affirm her commitment, Shelby ducked her head and jerked apart the pizza wrapper. But when his phone dinged, he pulled it from his pocket and held it up. Shelby darted a glance from the corner of her eye, but she couldn’t make out who sent the text. Not like the day at the Barnes’ when, after tendering his apology, he took a call from Caitlyn Curtis. Talking with his phone to his ear, he’d gotten into his truck with just a wave goodbye. But both times, the same slightly frazzled smile had flitted across his face.
Shelby’s confession didn’t seem to register. He texted as he walked away, mumbling, “Okay, I’m going into the bathroom for a minute.”
A minute later, Shelby heard the water turn on at the newly installed dresser vanity. Sighing, she slid the pizza into the oven, then unwrapped the other paper goods.
He wasn’t cruel, she told herself. Just disconnected. Which was good considering they’d soon part ways. It wouldn’t be fair to keep him dangling. But it didn’t feel good.
And it gnawed at her that he didn’t understand the reason behind her rejection. He thought he had to protect his heart from a cold woman. Problem was, she wasn’t cold. But she couldn’t tell him any of that without revealing some very warm feelings she was not ready to examine. Still, the steady ache in her chest felt like she’d lost a close friend, and she couldn’t seem to stop herself from attempting to build a bridge.
Scott emerged, stripped free of plastic booties, outer shirt, and the fine layer of dust that had covered his skin. He’d slicked his hair back with water. Shelby frowned at this rare attention to his appearance while still on the job.
“Is there a reason we’re concerned about trick-or-treaters today?” She glanced over her shoulder as she tossed the salad.
“Besides joining in on the holiday fun? Caitlyn said she might come by and bring the framed prints your sister made for the house, as well as the restaurant memorabilia.”
Shelby’s tongs stilled. “Oh. And she needs candy?”
A wrapper crinkled as Scott opened a chocolate bar. “Her three-year-old daughter might.”
“What?” Shelby whirled around to stare at him.
He met her eyes matter-of-factly. “Yeah, Caitlyn’s a single mom.”
“I … I didn’t know that.” The memory of Scott holding his toddler niece pierced Shelby’s consciousness, filling her with unease. Caitlyn possessed more motivation for romantic connection than Shelby had even imagined. No doubt the woman had already pegged steady, loyal Scott as a frontrunner for stepdad.
Popping the candy into his mouth, Scott turned to walk into the dining room. “Yeah, well, there’s a lot you don’t know.”
A male voice boomed from the foyer. “Hello, the house!”
“David!” Scott strode into the living room to shake the man’s hand.
Shelby leaned against the counter, closing her eyes a brief moment in an attempt to calm her thoughts and emotions. Despite the unfamiliar sensation churning in her middle right now—though it reminded her vaguely of the beginning stages of the flu—she needed to show David Barnes nothing but kindness and absolute focus. Last she’d seen him, he’d been wiping tears from his eyes after Ruby prayed over his indecision about what to do about his mother.
“Man, it looks good in here.” The older man looked around with appreciation as he strolled through the dining room with its freshly repainted trim and window seat. “And the kitchen … wow. This sure doesn’t look like the house I grew up in.”
Shelby turned from pulling the first fragrant pepperoni pizza out of the oven to offer David a half hug. “We’re not nearly done yet.”
Why did David look so different? Ah, the smile he now wore. And he held his shoulders back and chin up. “Scott’s new gray island with marble countertop will go right here.” Shelby indicated the area separating the kitchen from the dining room. She tried smiling at Scott. “I can’t wait to see it.”
Focused on David, he didn’t respond to her comment. “I’m happy to show you around, but did you really come by just to see the house?”
“No.” David ran a hand over the slight growth of tawny stubble on his chin. “To be honest, I was out driving, just thinking, and I ended up here. I feel like you guys need to know what happened with my mom, and I wanted to tell you in person.”
Shelby asked, “Will you join us for pizza? We can sit at the built-in table and benches in the eating nook.”
“I guess I could eat a slice.”
A minute later, after delivering the second pizza for the crew to the oven, Shelby slid in by David, lacking the courage to join Scott. Scott said a brief blessing, then Scott and Shelby both looked at David while his slice of pizza lay untouched on his paper plate.
“So … I decided to contact Matt Wilson.”
“You did?” Shelby blinked, trying to separate a string of cheese between her plate and her lips before Scott happened to glance over at her. She quickly set the slice back on her plate, her cheeks heating.
“Yeah.” David took a swig o
f soda, and his eyes briefly squeezed shut in that tic he had. “I sent him a message on social media. I just laid it out there, told him who I was, and how I thought we were connected. I mean, I didn’t go into the lifetime of hell our mother put me through, but apart from that …”
“Do you share the same mother?” Scott asked.
“Turns out, we do. Jeff helped my mother disappear back in 1976. Back then, she thought she was in love with him, and she was miserable with my dad. She also knew he’d never grant her a divorce. Jeff came up with the idea to move her to Philadelphia near his family, get her settled there under a new name, and follow her when enough time had passed to allay any suspicion.”
Scott polished off his first slice of pizza and wiped his mouth. “But wouldn’t the police have traced the name change?”
Reminded of his cooling dinner, David reached down for his own slice and took a quick bite. “The Wilsons are very connected in Pennsylvania. Typically, a name change is announced in the newspaper, but under the right circumstances, that can be … overlooked. The next step is to apply for a fresh social.”
“And she married Jeff Wilson?” Afraid to take another bite of pizza, Shelby removed a pepperoni and laid it to one side.
David nodded. “They stayed together for ten years. Divorced when Jeff had an affair. Big surprise, right? But my mother got custody of Matt, and they remained close after he grew up. Thus, the picture we found online.”
Shelby marveled at David’s calm delivery. She had to believe the abandonment and betrayal he must have felt—that she herself felt for so much less—swirled just beneath the surface. She leaned forward. “But how did Matt respond? Did he even know you existed? And how did you feel to learn all this?”
The soda can shook in David’s hand, and he placed it on the table. “He did know about me, but he hadn’t contacted me because Mom asked him not to. At least, she asked him to wait until she was ready. He was thrilled by my message because he said Mom’s been trying to work up the courage for some time to reach out to me. You see … Mom has cancer. She’s terminal.”
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