He walked down the steps, hands in his pockets, gaze trained on the ground. His steps seemed slow as he began to pack up his tools.
As she plodded inside to return Sydney’s call, guilt nearly choked her. She’d been enjoying the touch of the man who had hurt her sister. She’d allowed her children to hang around him and to become attached.
What kind of sister was she?
She’d been lulled into thinking that time spent with Mark was innocent. Simple babysitting and repair work. Simple meals shared. She’d known if she let him into their lives, it would break the hearts of her family.
Yet she’d done it anyway.
Sometimes phone calls could be wake-up calls. He felt certain the call from Sydney that had interrupted them last night was a much-needed dash of reality. How could he hope to have a relationship with Hannah with their past between them? Besides, she’d never want to relocate them across the country.
He’d veered off track since arriving—enjoying time with Hannah and her family too much. Maybe God was trying to tell him something.
“Mark?” Ann tapped him on the arm. “Earth to Mark.”
He pulled his mind off Hannah and back to Ann, his breakfast companion in the coffee shop. “Sorry. I was just wondering if I should head back to Seattle. A month is a long time to fill, and having me around is causing problems between Hannah and Donna.”
She obviously knew Donna well, because she gave him a sympathetic smile. “I think your dad has enjoyed having you here.”
He shook off the notion. “No. But he has warmed up to me a tad.”
“I’m glad.” Ann blew on her hot chocolate. “I’m also glad you joined me this morning.”
He glanced at her Bible. “I don’t want to keep you from your daily study.”
“I’m in no hurry. I’ve enjoyed our time together.”
He’d planned to go out to the house early before the predicted bad weather passed through, but decided to wait until everyone had left for work. Best to follow Donna’s—and his dad’s—wishes and stay away. He figured by now, the Hughes family would all be gone. He gulped the last of his coffee. “The sky’s getting dark. I should go on to Dad’s house. How about I cook dinner tonight?”
“You don’t have to do that.”
He stood and gave her a quick hug. “I know. It’s my way of saying thank-you. And of impressing you with my culinary skills.” He winked at her, then headed out the door onto the main street. He checked his phone for messages as he walked and didn’t look up until he nearly ran into someone. “Oh, excuse—”
Redd, his face mottled red with rage, waved an envelope in Mark’s face. “My bank statement came today. Care to tell me what you’re up to?”
Mark glanced over at the hardware store and noticed the sign that said Closed hanging on the door. Then he zoomed in on the envelope.
Great. “I’m not up to anything.”
“Then how did a large sum of money get deposited into my account?”
“Maybe a donor wanted to help.”
“Help an old man he thinks is a failure?”
“No, not at all. I’m sure the donor just wanted to tide you over until business picks up—once customers realize they miss the personalized service you offer.”
Redd leaned in close and tapped the envelope against Mark’s chest. “I don’t want your charity. I don’t want you stickin’ your nose in my business.”
Okay, so he couldn’t try to deny he’d put the funds in his dad’s account. Surely his dad would accept honesty. “I wanted you to be able to pay the back taxes so you wouldn’t have to rent out our family home.”
Something that looked like shame flashed across Redd’s face. “You gave up the right to our family home when you hightailed it out of here and didn’t look back. When you didn’t call your mom. When—” A sob escaped before he cleared his throat. “When you didn’t even keep in contact so we could let you know she’d died.” The last words came out so quietly, Mark barely heard them.
Their eyes locked. So much could be said, but he didn’t know where to start. Apparently, nothing had changed between them. Discouragement—and the fact that he didn’t want his dad to see the hurt—made him look away. “I’m sorry. For then. For now.” He ran his hand through his hair and stared over at his dad’s shop. At the courthouse. At the coffee shop. He didn’t belong here. He belonged back in Seattle. In his office. Accomplishing something. “If you want me to leave town, I will.”
Redd backed off. Shoved the envelope in his shirt pocket. Then began to pace up and down the sidewalk, staring at the ground ahead as if lost in thought.
Mark watched, unsure whether to say anything more. The fact that his dad hadn’t immediately told him to leave gave a spark of hope.
After a long stroll up the sidewalk, he turned and came back, his face a picture of grief—eyes etched with sadness, a deep crease between the brows.
“Your mom would have my hide if I sent you away. She’d want us to make peace.”
Swallowing was impossible, but he somehow managed to force air across his vocal cords. “I’d really like that, too.”
The moment of reconciliation was broken by a car horn honking. Redd waved to the driver, then refocused on Mark. “But I won’t accept your money. I take care of my property as I see fit.”
“I hope you’ll keep it and reconsider.”
“If you won’t go with me to the bank to get it out, I’ll give it away.” He brightened as if he’d had a stroke of genius. “Yessiree, I’ll give it to charity.”
“The money is yours to do with as you please.” He just hoped his dad would make the smart choice. The practical choice.
“I don’t want that money in my account another hour. Last chance to come with me to the bank.”
Though he was glad his dad hadn’t given him the boot out of town, he had to bite down on his frustration. “Think I’ll pass. I plan to go prime the shutters if the storm will hold off.”
“Suit yourself.” He strode away. A man on a mission.
A mission to reject Mark’s offer of help.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, and as he looked up, a drop of rain smacked him in the eye. “Perfect. Just perfect.”
Mark headed to his car and ignored the vibrating cell phone in his pocket. Whoever was calling could wait.
Chapter Eight
“Come on,” Hannah begged. She pulled the phone away from her ear and shouted at the receiver, “Answer your phone!”
All she’d wanted to do was put Mark out of her mind, go to work, do her job and make a living so she could support her family. But no. Donna had to go off the deep end and blackmail her own daughter.
Apparently, my warnings to stay away from Mark didn’t work. That man is a danger to you. So I’m calling to tell you I won’t be babysitting again until you convince him to leave town.
She’d wanted to shout at her mother that her devious plan had backfired. Now Hannah would be forced to call him and ask another favor. But instead, she’d bitten her tongue and counted to ten.
Becca walked into the room and stared up at her mother, her face scrunched in a frown, as if she thought Hannah was crazy. “Who are you yelling at?”
“Oh, no one. I’m just frustrated that Mark isn’t answering his phone.”
“Is Nana sick again?”
She couldn’t lie to her children, but how could she explain that even though their grandmother had good intentions, her behavior was immature, selfish and stubborn? “Nana just can’t watch you today.” Won’t, more like it.
“Did you try Miss Ann?”
“She’s not home. I imagine she’s over at the coffee shop.” And Hannah was already late for work. Again. “I wonder if Chelsea Reynolds is old enough to b
abysit.”
Frustration boiled over into anger. How could her own mother let spite put Hannah’s job—her livelihood, the welfare of her family—at risk?
“Come on, kids. I’ll have to take you with me to work and see if I can find someone in town to watch you.”
By the time she got them all buckled in, drove in the spitting rain and arrived at the bank, she was twenty minutes late. The head teller eyed her, then resumed her phone conversation. Amy looked as if she knew trouble was brewing.
“Okay, you four, I need you to sit here and be on your best behavior.” She pointed to the grouping of couches not far from her office. “I’ll find someone to watch you. In the meantime, Mommy needs you to be patient. Okay?”
“Hannah.” Amy touched her forearm. “I’m sorry to bother you, but Mr. Ryker has been in your office for—”
Oh, please… “Mark Ryker?”
“No, Redd. He’s been insisting on seeing you. Has been here since we opened. And…” Her nose wrinkled.
“Yes?”
“Cheryl called. She wants you to call as soon as you get in.”
Hannah’s heart plummeted. Her boss knew she was late again. Lord, please help her to be understanding. “Thanks, Amy. I’m sorry I’m late. And had to bring the gang.”
“No problem.” The look she gave was sympathetic.
Hannah hurried to her office. “Hi, Redd. What can I do for you?”
“I want Mark’s money gone.” He jammed his hands into his pockets, a far cry from his son’s country-club pose. Redd’s posture shouted determination. “I want to give it to the church. In fact, how about to the youth? I could sponsor a bunch more kids now.”
Oh, no. Poor Mark.
She nearly gasped when she realized that her first thought had been for Mark. What was wrong with her? She should be thrilled that all her fundraising for the mission trip could be accomplished if she simply accepted the offer. “Well…yes…you could.” The words dragged out of her as if her heart had overtaken her mouth.
His brows drew downward. “Well, do you want the money or not?”
“How will Mark feel about that?”
With brows still drawn, his eyes squinted, probing. “Why would you care how Mark feels?”
Busying herself with a stack of papers on her desk, she focused on anything other than the man who’d discovered something she hadn’t wanted to broadcast.
She cared how Mark felt. Didn’t want him hurt.
Not good.
With one last pat to the pile of papers, she moved around behind her desk and sat. She braved looking him in the eye. “The church would be thrilled with a donation to the youth mission trip. Thank you for your generosity.”
He pulled a bank statement out of his pocket. Then he took out his checkbook and scratched out a check for the full amount Mark had deposited. He ripped it out with a flourish and handed it to her. “There. I’m rid of that guilt offering.”
Though the check would do much good, it pained her. “I’m sorry the two of you aren’t on better terms. Can’t you forgive him?”
He glanced away, his eyes unfocused, and Hannah had the feeling he was gazing into the past. “He broke his mother’s heart. An apology can’t fix that.”
Nearly the exact words she’d said to Mark that night in the garden at the inn. She jerked back in her chair, stunned. She’d been as unforgiving as Redd. “I guess it can’t fix anything in the past. But it could help you move forward.”
Like she could move forward. She had the opportunity to extend the hand of forgiveness…to the detriment of her relationship with her mother, and the relationship between the children and their grandmother.
Could she take such a risk?
Redd stood and offered his hand. “Thank you for taking care of this donation. I hope every child will get to go on the mission trip.”
“They certainly will.”
When they walked out of her office, her kids rushed over to hug him.
“What are y’all doing here with your mom?”
Tony, whose mood had matched the gloomy weather all morning, said, “Nana didn’t want to keep us today.”
Redd’s eyes darted to Hannah’s at the same moment Tony’s words knifed her heart. “No, sweetie. She just…well, she couldn’t do it today.”
“Did you try Ann?”
“Yes. No answer.”
“Probably at the café.” He sighed. “I know it’d make Donna mad as a hornet. Not too fond of the idea myself. But call Mark. He won’t be able to paint with the storm moving this way.”
“Thanks for the suggestion.” She saw Redd out the door. Yes, she would call Mark. Again. And maybe he’d answer this time.
But first, she had to call her boss.
She located paper and pens and set the kids to drawing, then dialed her supervisor. “Hi, Cheryl. I was with a customer and just got a second to return your call.”
“Hannah, we certainly trust you and know you’re a hard worker. But I need to know you’re capable of—and dedicated to—your role as branch manager there in Corinthia.”
Heat flamed up her neck and across her cheeks. “Definitely. I’ve had some problems with my summer child-care provider, but I promise you I’ll find a solution.”
“See that you do. I’d hate to have to bring in someone else to take over as manager.”
“Thanks for your patience. That won’t be necessary.” They hung up, and Hannah fought the urge to call her mother and give her an earful. Venting wouldn’t help matters, though. Besides, Donna had been doing her a favor by babysitting at no charge. Hannah really couldn’t complain.
Maybe it was time she hired someone to watch her children. The expense would further delay buying a house, but she’d keep her job.
She jotted a note on her calendar to call the child-care center as soon as she could. Then she tried one last time to reach Mark.
“Hey. Sorry I missed your call earlier. Dad and I had a bit of a run-in, so I couldn’t pick up.”
She let out a pent-up breath. The rich, deep tone of his voice made the muscles in her shoulders let go of their tight hold. She smiled, even though her mother had left her in a jam and her boss had threatened to take away her promotion. “I’m so glad you answered. Is there any way you could possibly watch the kids for me today?”
“Your mother giving you grief again? Over me?”
“Yep. So do you feel guilty enough to babysit?”
He snorted a laugh. “I’m a pro at guilt. I may as well make up for it where I can.”
“Thank you. I’ll bring them to the house right now.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
His words sent shock waves through her, creating visions of him waiting for her in their home.
She was acting like an indecisive teenager—one minute vowing to stay away from him, the next, thankful for the excuse to call him.
Her mother refused to babysit until he left town. He was the only person who could do the job at the moment. A vicious cycle that could only be broken when she convinced him to leave.
But how could she do that when time with him was so limited? When she wanted nothing more than to spend every last minute with him?
Mark stood on Hannah’s front porch staring through the rain at the darkening southwestern sky. He’d heard about a cold front coming through, but didn’t think the predicted storms would be severe. The challenge would be entertaining the kids all day inside.
Maybe if he put in a movie he could do some interior work.
Hannah’s van splashed up the muddy driveway. Blue came out from under the porch and ran along beside them. The children threw the doors of the vehicle open, calling to Blue as well as Mark. Felt pretty good to know he ranked up th
ere with a beloved dog.
Blue spotted Mark on the porch and barreled up, wagging his tail and sniffing Mark’s hands. Without warning, the black Lab shook from head to tail, spraying water all over Mark even as he tried to duck away from the shower. “Good to see you, too, buddy.”
While Hannah popped up an umbrella to make the short walk to the door, the kids ran ahead. Becca and the twins threw their arms around him in greeting.
“You’re going to watch us today?” Tony did a quick-release hug, a big deal for him.
Eight small arms had made him feel more welcome than…well, than anything ever had. He coughed into his hand. “Sure am. Why don’t you all head inside? I’ll be there after I talk to your mom.”
As soon as the front door opened and then closed, peace descended.
Rain pattered on the roof of the porch. Thunder echoed in the distance. Hannah stood close, smelling like rain and flowers, tempting him with her nearness.
“Thank you for watching them. I hope they won’t be any trouble.”
“I told you, they’re good kids. We’ll be fine.”
She nodded, glanced at the darkening sky. “Your dad came in this morning to withdraw your money.” She reached out and touched his arm, her eyes full of sympathy. “I’m sorry. I know you only wanted to help him.”
“Yeah, well…” He, too, checked out the rapidly moving clouds. “I may be leaving town soon. My plan isn’t working.”
“You should talk to him. I mean really talk. About the past. About how you both feel now.”
“Look, I’ve done all I can. I tried to help him pay the taxes. I’m doing repair work on the house.”
“Have you done repair work on the father-son relationship? He needs to know you’re going to stick around for more than a few thousand dollars and a gallon of paint.”
“Ouch.” Blunt but honest. He liked that.
Her nose crinkled as she winced. “I’m sorry. I probably speak my mind more than I should. I’ve learned the hard way I need to count to ten before I speak.”
A House Full of Hope Page 11