“No counting necessary with me.”
A slow smile lifted her rosy lips. She leaned closer. “So…will you talk to him?”
When she looked at him like that, her bright eyes so earnest, how could he refuse? “I guess it can’t hurt.”
“Good.” She reached for her umbrella. “I should go.”
“Any interior projects that you need done?”
She stepped under her umbrella and into the rain. “Just the nurturing of four young, impressionable children.” She looked back over her shoulder, a playful sparkle in her eyes. “No biggie.”
Scary, intimidating business. “Sounds like my most important project ever.”
She smiled a ray of sweet light, brightening the dreary day. “And you better not forget it.”
Grinning, he went in search of the gang. “Okay, who’s going to help me find a repair project to do inside today?”
Emily came dashing down the stairs. “You can clean my room.”
A laugh burst out before he could stop it. He knelt and gave her a serious look. “I think we need to do something for your mom. Do you know of anything she’s talked about doing but hasn’t had a chance to get to?”
Trying to look grown-up, Emily tapped her chin in thought. “Hmm…”
“We can teach Blue to sit and stay,” Eric said, his shoulders proudly thrust back. “She’s always saying that’s our next big project.”
“Not a bad idea. How about something with the house itself, though?”
Tony tapped him on the shoulder. “The rocking chairs on the front porch.”
The chairs his mom and dad had loved so much. He could remember hearing them out there, sitting together each night after he and Matt went to bed. Laughing. Talking politics. And, yes, sometimes arguing. But they always settled their differences before they came back inside. “You know what? That’s a great idea. We can do the prep work out there on the porch.”
Pleased with himself, Tony bit his lip, as if trying not to smile too big. “Can I do the paint?”
“You sure can, once we get to that. For today, let’s sand off the old paint and fix any loose slats.”
“Yay!” Becca jumped up and down like a little cheerleader. “Then I’ll be able to sit out there and read without getting splinters.”
They all dug in and helped, working the morning away. The chairs would be ready to prime once the humidity dropped. “I imagine you’re all getting hungry. How about—”
“Mr. Mark, it looks weird out here.” Becca pushed up her glasses and stared out into the yard.
Intent on overseeing their work, Mark hadn’t noticed that the wind had kicked up, and the sky had taken on an eerie green cast.
“I don’t like the look of that sky. Let’s go inside and check the weather report.”
Emily grabbed his hand, her dark brown eyes wide with terror.
He had to remember he was dealing with children and quit speaking the first thing that popped into his mind. “It’s okay. I’m here to take care of you.”
She nodded, but her small hand tightened. “I want my mommy,” she whispered.
Eric stuck his tongue out at his sister and nearly sneered. “Nah, nah, nah, nah. She’s scared of storms.”
“Be nice to your sister.” The wind picked up, kicking leaves and debris around the yard. A low, heavy cloud moved steadily across the sky, bringing even more green darkness. “Inside. Now.”
He tried not to let his tension show as he turned on the television to a local network. A storm report had preempted other shows and the weatherman was pointing to a map of north Georgia.
Their county was under a tornado warning.
He had to protect Hannah’s kids.
His cell phone started buzzing, and he felt sure it was her. No time. He’d call her once they were safely…
Where? The house didn’t have a basement.
“Why’s that man telling people in Corinthia to seek shelter? What does that mean?” Becca asked.
“Let’s play a little game and do what he’s saying.” He smiled to reassure Emily.
Tony didn’t buy it. “What’s going on?”
“We’re going to play sardines and see if we can all squeeze in the little bathroom under the stairs. Come on!” He herded them ahead of him.
When they got to the powder room, the house began to creak as if the wind was trying to pull it apart. Somewhere, a window shattered. “Get in the corner by the sink. Now.”
They didn’t move fast enough to suit him, so he grabbed them in his arms and shoved them as a unit into the cramped space, covering them with his body. Emily’s scream pierced his brain as the proverbial freight train roared by.
Then silence, punctuated with Emily’s sobs. The storm was over as quickly as it had hit.
Grateful the kids were still bundled in his arms, he looked around. The walls were standing. A ceiling remained over their head. They even had power.
Emily whimpered.
“It’s okay, Emily. Mark is here,” Tony said, his green eyes wide and frightened.
Mark dared to breathe again. Weak with relief, he closed his eyes and thanked God for their safety. “Everyone okay?”
“What happened?” Becca tried to wiggle loose to straighten her glasses.
It was a wonder they hadn’t been injured from him squeezing them so tightly. “That was a tornado, and it must have passed fairly close. Let’s go call your mom and my dad. Check the damage.”
Lord, please let Hannah and Dad be okay.
“She’ll be worried,” Tony said.
As they filed outside, Mark took out his cell phone, his heart pounding in fear. What if the downtown area took a direct hit?
No need to dial. The green minivan came barreling down the driveway doing about ninety, fishtailing in the water and mud. As he waved to let her know they were okay, his knees nearly went weak with relief.
Hannah slammed on her brakes and flung open the door. She ran around the front of the van, then, when she saw them, stopped. Sobs poured out of her. Gut-wrenching sobs that seemed to rip his heart out of his chest.
The kids tore across the yard, and she gathered them in her arms, a couple of them joining her in the crying.
Not wanting to intrude on their reunion, he waited until the tears stopped. Once she let go of the kids, he strode over to join them. An onslaught of chatter greeted him as each child told a portion of the story.
“I wanted to cry.”
“Mr. Mark shoved us in the corner.”
“And he piled on top of us right when this really loud noise hurt my ears.”
“I cried.”
“Mom! A tornado! There was a real tornado!”
Emily raised her hand and waved it. “Mommy, did you hear me? I cried.”
“Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry you were scared and cried.” Hannah hugged them all within her arms. She looked up, thanking him with her eyes. “The downtown area was spared. But I had to come make sure y’all weren’t hurt.”
Mark looked around. The house had withstood the tornado. Just some missing shingles and a couple of broken windows. Several trees down—thankfully not the huge live oak next to the house. Branches littered the yard. Out beyond the pasture, a swath of flattened trees showed the path of the tornado. Too close for comfort. “Looks like only minor damage here.”
“Thank You, God.” Hannah sent the kids inside with the promise of joining them soon. She wiped her eyes and sniffed.
Mark shoved his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t embarrass himself by grabbing her. He wanted to pull her into his arms, kiss her tear-stained face. “You okay?”
“I am now.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t answer
your call. The storm came up so quickly, I—”
“No, don’t be sorry. You took care of my babies, and I—” She swallowed as tears filled her eyes. Then she launched to her tiptoes and threw her arms around his neck. “I can’t thank you enough.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist, treasuring the opportunity to hold her close. But he didn’t dare kiss her like he wanted. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” He closed his eyes. Everything was more than okay with her in his arms.
“I was so scared.”
When she lowered to her flat feet and let go of his neck, he gently pressed her head to his chest, rested his cheek on the top of her head. “I was worried about you.”
She relaxed into him and placed her hand on his chest. “Oh, Mark, we can’t have this. We don’t have a chance of a future. I can’t grow to depend on you.”
“I know. This is crazy. Especially when my life is three thousand miles away.” He breathed in the fresh, citrusy fragrance of her hair, committing it to memory. Nothing about the two of them together made sense. Unless it was God’s doing. If so, how could they fix the impasse between him and Donna? Because he couldn’t continue driving a wedge between Hannah and her mother.
He let go and stepped away from her. But not before one last touch of her hair.
He had to leave, had to head back to Seattle before he harmed the Williams family more than he already had. He’d take with him the memory of Hannah in his arms, of her silk, soft hair against his cheek and her sweet-smelling skin.
Of her sweet spirit and precious children.
He had to get away from her and try to clear his head. Grabbing his cell phone, he excused himself to check on his dad and Ann.
He had to remember Hannah Hughes was off-limits.
Maybe the conversations he needed to have with his dad could be done that night. He could even invite Redd out for a visit. Either way, Mark needed to leave town so he didn’t cause Hannah any more trouble.
Hannah called the bank to let them know her children needed her and that she wouldn’t be in the rest of the day. Since apparently someone at the branch had to have been reporting her tardiness, she called her supervisor. Cheryl understood, since the tornado had also touched down near the main office.
Hannah rounded up the kids and drove into town to check in with her mother. She knew the duplex hadn’t been hit, because she’d passed it on the way out to her house. But the property had sustained some damage. When they arrived at the complex, they found Donna talking to her neighbor, who’d had a tree fall on her roof. The tree lay across the corner of the house, exposing part of the attic. Insulation lay strewn all around.
Donna waved them over. “I’ve been trying to call, but phone lines must be down. Is everyone okay?” She checked each child as he or she walked up, rubbing her hands over faces and arms to examine for injuries.
“They’re fine. The house is fine except for some shingles, windows and downed trees.”
“I haven’t heard of any injuries, thank the good Lord. But the Hernes had their roof torn off. I’m collecting food and supplies to help.”
“Oh, Nana, we were so scared,” Emily said, causing the four of them to launch into the same tale they’d told her at the house.
Hannah should have warned them not to talk about it. Of course, that would have been requesting the impossible. So instead, she gritted her teeth and tried to smile, waiting for her mother’s blowup.
But Donna surprised her. She didn’t fuss at all. Just listened to her grandkids recount the story of Mark’s bravery and how he had saved them, and answered with the occasional “Wow” and “You don’t say.”
Hannah was just starting to feel hope that maybe her mom would come around now that Mark had protected her grandchildren, when Donna asked the kids to run to her house to fetch a box of emergency supplies off the table. As they hurried away, that’s when Hannah noticed the fury sparking in her eyes.
“You asked him to babysit. Against my wishes.”
“You didn’t leave me any choice. My supervisor has threatened to take away my promotion.”
“You know how I feel about this. It’s hurtful that you’re associating with those Rykers who ruined our lives.”
“Mom, please. Can’t we move beyond it? Mark’s a changed man. Sydney is doing better. And God wants us to forgive. I’m ready to do that.”
Donna grabbed her by the arm and pulled her away from an embarrassed neighbor who’d been pretending to ignore the conversation. “Forgiveness or no forgiveness, we have to remember who’s hurt us before so we don’t get hurt again. I can’t stand by and watch him hurt you or the kids.”
Tears burned her nose—tears of frustration. Helpless to reason with Donna, she wanted to scream. One Mississippi…two Mississippi… “I really appreciate all the help you’ve given me since Anthony died. And I really want the kids to stay with you. They need family—especially after the fright of today’s storm.”
With a hopeful look on her face, Donna nodded. “I agree. They do.”
“But I can’t be late for work each time you get upset with something I’ve done and refuse to babysit. I need to know right now that you’ll be there for the kids tomorrow and the rest of this summer—whether or not Mark has been around. Or else I’ll be forced to sign them up at the day-care center.” Another expense she couldn’t afford.
Donna’s face crumpled, and she took a step back as if Hannah had slapped her. But then she threw back her shoulders and straightened her spine. “No. I won’t be party to this path toward self-destruction.” Despite the steel backbone, her voice wobbled. “I guess you should go ahead and contact the day-care center. Tell the kids I’ll come visit them there and will see them at church.”
Before Hannah could respond, Becca and Tony approached, carrying the box together.
“Here, Nana,” Tony called.
A donation of food for her neighbors in need.
Donna would help everyone in town…except her own daughter when she needed it most.
Chapter Nine
Mark called to let his assistant know he was returning to work. But he couldn’t fathom leaving Corinthia. Crazy, since his life was in Seattle.
His home. His business. His friends. His church.
But in a matter of a couple of weeks, he felt more at home with Hannah and her family than he ever had anywhere else.
He’d messed up her life, though. Had caused strife when he’d come to mend relationships. The least he could do before he left was make a quick drive through town to assess the damage. See what he could do to help.
Several houses had roof damage, so he stopped by the hardware store. The place was empty as he headed straight to the aisle with packages of tarpaulins. Seemed everyone had either gone to the warehouse store or hadn’t yet gone into repair mode.
“You finding what you need?” His dad didn’t seem surprised to see him. Just stood at the end of the shelving with his arms crossed in front of him.
“Looks like most people need tarps at this point.”
“I figured you’d be in here buying supplies to help someone.”
Once the last tarp landed in his cart with a heavy thud, he wheeled it toward his dad until they were standing two feet apart. “I’m leaving. Heading to Atlanta tonight to see when I can catch a flight out.”
The slightest flutter of eyelids showed a flash of response as Redd managed, otherwise, to look unperturbed. “Care to tell me why?”
Mark’s instincts said to just tell him it’s complicated and keep moving. But he’d come to town to find forgiveness. This was his last chance to try. To really talk, like Hannah had suggested. “Instead of making amends like I’d hoped, I’m causing more trouble.”
“Says who?”
“Says Donna Wil
liams. She’s giving Hannah a rough time about me hanging around.”
“Guess I’m not making you feel too welcome, either.”
He shrugged, feeling like a kid. A kid once again in trouble with his dad. “Until I got here, I didn’t realize the extent of the pain I left behind. I can’t begin to make up for the havoc I’ve caused.”
“I thought you said God had changed you and sent you here. Don’t reckon He messed up, do you?”
Redd’s words shot through him like a jolt of electricity. “Well, I don’t see any way to fix things with the Williamses. But I’d like to think I can fix things with you.”
His dad motioned toward the cash register. Mark followed.
Redd rang up the tarps, slowly, one by one. “I’m trying not to be mad about the money anymore. I see you were just trying to help.”
Despite all that had happened between them, his dad finally seemed to want to mend the past. Mark leaned on the counter, the tension easing from his body. If only his dad could overlook the pain Mark had caused and love him for the person he was today. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad. I really did—do—want to help. Will you let me pay the taxes?”
“Nope. But I had some time to think while cowering back in the supply closet during that storm.”
Dare he hope? He didn’t move a muscle. Lord, please…
His dad gazed off toward one of the windows. “I’d heard the storm was heading out your way. Scared me to death.”
He’d worried about him? “The kids and I huddled in the bathroom. We were fine.”
“If something happened—” he shoved another tarp into a shopping bag “—and I hadn’t eased your mind…”
“Eased my mind?”
Redd handed over the bags for Mark to put in the cart. “I didn’t want you to carry that guilt you’ve been hauling around all these years. I’d never forgive myself if you died thinking…thinking I didn’t care.”
“I ruined so many lives, Dad.”
“You didn’t ruin anyone’s but your own—with all that drinking.”
The alcohol had been a symptom. A response to cope with the heartache. “But Matt…” Mark’s throat suddenly convulsed, catching him off guard. “I know his death was my fault. I’m so sorry.”
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