by Cindy Kirk
Prim was about to suggest Anita sit on one of the benches and they could pick her up later when Connor shouted and waved wildly. “Hi, Mr. Brody.”
Prim shifted her gaze from a sulking Anita and found herself staring directly into Max’s vivid blue eyes.
“This is quite the party crowd.” Max extended a hand to Prim’s father and smiled at Anita and Prim before turning his attention to the boys. “What’s that I see peeking out of your pocket?”
Quick as a ninja, Callum jerked the snake from his pocket and shoved it into Max’s face.
“Whoa.” Max jumped back, hands raised as if ready to fend off an attack. Though he did his best to look startled, he couldn’t keep from smiling.
“It’s not real.” Connor moved forward and touched Max’s hand. “It can’t hurt you.”
Max pretended to wipe sweat from his brow. “That’s a relief.”
Callum jeered. “You were scared.”
“Connor. Callum. Oh, whichever one you are.” Anita tossed up her hands in frustration. “You need to apologize to Mr. Brody. That was not amusing.”
“Easy, there.” Steve put a hand on Anita’s shoulder. “It was a boyish prank. No harm done.”
His tone might have been mild, but there was a distinct warning in his eyes.
Anita pressed her lips together. If she were a teapot, Max had no doubt she’d be spewing steam right about now.
He turned his attention to Prim. She’d appeared to be fighting a smile when the snake had made its appearance. In the simple, white dress with her hair tumbling around her shoulders, she looked as refreshing as a cool glass of lemonade.
He’d always had a particular affinity for lemonade.
“Are you here with a date?” Anita’s question broke through his thoughts.
He cocked his head and casually blocked the punch Callum aimed at his midsection.
“Callum,” Prim said sharply. “What are you doing?”
The boy lifted a skinny shoulder and let it drop.
“Being a boy.” Max placed a hand on the child’s head and gave him a noogie.
He squealed with delight.
“Charlotte seems like such a lovely woman.” Anita glanced around as if expecting the brunette to walk up at any moment. “Both beautiful and successful.”
Max sensed Prim’s watchful gaze.
“Where is she this evening?” Anita pressed, much like a dog bent on a particularly delectable bone.
“I believe Charlotte is back in Chicago.”
Anita raised a skeptical brow. “You don’t know?”
“She mentioned something about catching a flight to Midway this morning.”
Anita’s eyes brightened. “Oh, so you’re saying she spent the night.”
Max blew out an exasperated breath, wondering how Steve stood this woman. “What I’m saying is that Charlotte and I are casual acquaintances, nothing more.”
Rolling his shoulders against sudden tightness, Max cast a glance at the twins. They’d lost interest in the conversation and were running circles around each other on the sidewalk.
Even though the boys seemed fully occupied with the impromptu game, Max lowered his voice and focused on Steve, ignoring Anita. “What did you think about the excitement in my neighborhood last night?”
“I don’t like it one bit. It worries me that Prim and the boys are in that house alone.” Steve’s gaze met his. “Thank you again for coming to my daughter’s assistance.”
“Prim should have called the sheriff before she called Max.” Anita glanced at Steve. “Don’t you agree?”
“I don’t.” Steve’s eyes were cool. “I believe my daughter responded appropriately.”
“I agree,” Max said, his tone as cool as Steve’s eyes.
Anita opened her mouth, then closed it, appearing to reconsider what she’d been about to say. She offered a bright smile. “Tom Larson, who cooks part-time for Beck, came into my shop this morning. We got to chatting.”
From the self-satisfied gleam in the woman’s eyes, Max had no doubt it had been Anita doing the majority of the talking, probably pumping the poor guy for information about Beck and Ami.
“Tom brought up the burglaries. We are both very concerned that one of these times someone is going to get hurt.” Anita continued without taking a breath, “When Steve told me it was your house that had been targeted, I got the heebie-jeebies.”
As if to illustrate, Anita visibly shivered.
“He broke into my neighbor’s house,” Prim clarified. “He just hid out in my backyard.”
A slight frown slipped over Steve’s face and worry filled the gaze he leveled on his daughter. “Maybe you and the boys should stay with me until this guy is caught.”
“That’s very kind.” Prim reached over and gave her father a hug. “I appreciate the offer, but the boys and I will be fine. The door has a dead bolt and Boris is on duty.”
Anita made a scoffing sound.
Prim’s gaze pinned her. “Most articles say the best deterrent for robberies isn’t a top-notch security system, but a loud, barking dog.”
“Boris barked and barked last night.” Connor looked up from a crouched position. “Woke me up.”
Max exchanged a glance with Prim.
“I didn’t hear anything,” Callum announced.
“He was real loud,” his twin insisted.
“Oh, sweetie.” Prim leaned over, ran a hand across his hair. “I’m sorry he woke you.”
“’s okay. Boris came back to bed and we went to sleep again.”
“Sheriff Swarts should start thinking about retiring soon.” Anita pursed her lips. “Before people run him out of town.”
“Len Swarts is a good man.” Steve, who Max knew considered the sheriff a friend, sounded impatient. “He’s a very competent sheriff with good deputies. They’ll catch this guy. We all need to be patient.”
“I’m merely telling you what I hear in my shop, Steven.” Anita’s hazel eyes flashed. “Citizens are fed up with his excuses. If the public gets wind that Good Hope has criminals running wild in our community, well, I don’t have to tell you what that could do to the tourist trade.”
“He’s a burglar, not a rapist or murderer.” Prim’s gaze narrowed on the woman. “Burglars target homes when the people who live there are away. The thief gets what he wants and no one gets hurt.”
“Unless someone happens to be there when he breaks in and gets in his way,” Anita warned. “Trust me, one of these times that’s just what is going to happen.”
Chapter Thirteen
“I’m gonna hit a home run,” Callum announced from the backseat of the family car, bouncing up and down.
“Me too,” Connor chimed in, though looking decidedly less confident than his older brother. “Will we really get to hit a ball?”
“I don’t know.” Prim and her sisters had played softball for fun, but T-ball for six-year-olds was a new experience.
As she drove to the ball field, she was grateful for the diversion. It kept her mind off Anita and her troubling comments. Prim told herself the odds that the burglar would return to a neighborhood where he’d nearly been caught were slim to none. The odds he’d come back to her house were even less.
Still, when leaving the house this afternoon, she’d not only secured the doors but had taken a few minutes to shut and lock the windows. That hurt. No one should have to shut their windows in Good Hope. The breeze wafting in through the windows had been heavenly, and she loved the way fresh air made a house smell.
But Prim would take no chances. Not with the safety of Callum and Connor at stake. Shortly after the twins were born, Rory had made her promise she’d always look out for his sons. At first she’d been insulted. Until she’d taken a breath and seen beneath her husband’s confident—often cocky—facade to the man who knew he wouldn’t be around to watch his boys grow, to be their protector.
The promise he’d asked for didn’t have anything to do with her and her abilities, but
with him and his inability to protect. Rory had seen his future more clearly than she ever had. With a heavy heart, Prim had hugged him tight and made the promise.
During that last year, when his CF had worsened, instead of scaling back, Rory had pushed himself more. It had been a pattern since childhood.
Prim could have blamed his parents for his refusal to accept the limitation of his disease, but she knew they’d done their best. Guilty over the knowledge they’d both passed a defective gene to him, Deb and Mike had overindulged him. Yet because of their efforts, Rory had done better with his CF than most afflicted with the disease.
He’d been able to play sports, go to college, and marry. For four short years he’d even been able to experience the joys—and challenges—of fatherhood.
“We’re here.” Callum’s shout filled the car as she made the turn into the parking lot.
“Save it for the outfield, buddy.” Prim couldn’t begrudge him his excitement when her own bubbled up inside her.
The twins were already out of the vehicle by the time Prim got out. They were both practically dancing with anticipation, and she could tell they would have loved to bolt full speed ahead to the field. “Stay right beside me. Drivers sometimes don’t watch as closely as they should in parking lots.”
“But we’re late,” Callum whined, shifting from one foot to the other.
She stopped the whine with a well-practiced stare.
Only when they reached the edge of the ball field did the boys break into a run, gloves flapping. The twins stopped at the edge of the kids gathered around Katie Ruth Crewes, suddenly unsure. The pretty blonde smiled when she saw Prim.
Seeing the excitement on the faces of her sons and hearing the chatter of the other children brought a wave of sadness. Despite Rory’s preoccupation with his own extreme sports adventures, Prim knew he’d have enjoyed spending time with the boys as they got older, especially if the activity involved sports.
Prim gave a little wave to Gladys’s granddaughter, Penny, and several other women she recognized. Her purse held the printed-out registration form and a check for the fees. She’d attempted to complete and submit the form online, but because the deadline had passed, the system wouldn’t accept it.
“The receptionist I spoke with at the Y said it was okay that the boys didn’t preregister, that there was room on this team. She said to print out the forms and bring them with me.” Prim held out the papers and the check to Katie Ruth.
Katie Ruth took them both and fastened them to her clipboard. “Of course, we’re happy to have the boys. We had room for two more. Now we’re full.”
The tension in Prim’s shoulders eased. “Callum and Connor have been looking forward to this all day.”
“Appears they’re fitting right in.”
Prim slanted a glance and saw the boys, or rather Callum, animatedly telling some story—undoubtedly a tall tale—to Brynn Chapin. “He loves to talk.”
Katie Ruth grinned. “I was the same way at that age.”
“Are you helping Max coach this afternoon?”
“Actually, I’m here as the overall coordinator for the YMCA’s youth activities.” Katie Ruth gestured with her head toward the man coming out of the clubhouse. “This is Max’s first time coaching for us. I’m sticking around to make sure it all goes smoothly.”
Prim swore Max’s eyes lit up when he spotted her. When a slow smile spread across his lips, everything in her went warm and gooey. Her eyes remained glued to him as he strode across the ball field.
When he drew close, she stepped forward, but the kids immediately surrounded him, eager to get started.
Prim moved to sit in the stands with the rest of the parents. She didn’t know when she’d enjoyed an hour more. The kids were a hoot to watch. Dropped balls. Stopping to play in the dirt. Brynn running after a butterfly.
Her plan to head straight home after practice changed when Max offered to stay behind and help several children with their batting. Her two were among the ones needing help.
“Your boys show talent,” Katie Ruth commented.
“Thanks.” Prim appreciated the compliment, but while her sons showed great enthusiasm, they’d dropped as many balls as they caught. Not to mention they’d yet to hit one.
Katie Ruth smiled as if she’d read her mind. “They’re a little rough around the edges. All kids are at this age. But I see Rory’s boldness and willingness to take risks in them.”
Prim thought of where that bold fearlessness had gotten her husband. Where it had left her—alone with two boys to raise.
“Why are you two looking so serious all of a sudden?” Max had wandered over, a clear signal the extra practice time had come to a close.
Her boys remained on the ball field, amusing themselves by taking turns throwing the ball high into the air, then laughing like a couple of hyenas when it fell to the ground with a loud thud.
Safe and in sight. Prim’s shoulders relaxed.
“I was telling Prim I see Rory’s bold nature in his sons.” A smile hovered at the corners of Katie Ruth’s lips. “Mark my words, they’re going to be equally fearless.”
Panic wrapped around Prim like a snake, squeezing the air from her lungs.
Max glanced at Prim, then back at Katie Ruth. “A little caution isn’t always a bad thing.”
“I can totally see them following in their father’s footsteps.” Katie Ruth shifted her gaze back to Prim. “Wasn’t he involved in a lot of extreme sports as an adult?”
“He was a rock climber. That’s what got him killed.” Prim hadn’t meant to sound bitter, but she felt bitter.
“I, ah, thought it was a malfunction of his climbing harness.” Katie Ruth kicked the ground with the toe of her shoe. “That’s what it said in the paper.”
“The bottom line is, if Rory hadn’t given in to the need to climb that particular piece of rock, he’d still be alive.” Though Prim’s face felt stiff, she forced her expression to relax and motioned to her sons. “Regardless of what you call it—fearlessness or recklessness—he’s just as dead.”
The next morning Prim rose at six. By seven thirty she’d fed the boys and done two loads of laundry. Her phone rang just as she emptied the dryer the second time. She set the laundry basket on the table and pulled out her phone, smiling when she saw the readout. “Morning, Dad. You’re up early.”
“Hello, sweetheart.” Brimming with warmth and affection, her father’s voice never failed to brighten her day. “How’s my girl?”
“Doing well.” She put the phone between her ear and shoulder and pulled out a handful of socks and underpants. “Just trying to get some things caught up around the house before our trip to Appleton.”
“That’s right, I forgot the boys will be spending some time with Deb and Mike.” There was a pause on the other end of the line. “All the more reason for a fishing day with Grandpa.”
“Excuse me?” Prim dropped the socks she’d just rolled into a ball, then picked up two more.
“I’d like to take my grandsons fishing today, if that’s okay with you.”
“They’d love it.” Another ball of socks hit the tabletop. “When do you want to pick them up?”
“Have they eaten breakfast?”
“Just finished.”
“I can be there in five minutes.”
“Five minutes?” Prim turned and glanced out the sliding glass door to where the boys played in the backyard.
“I’m just down the block.”
“Ah, sure, I’ll get them ready.”
Within fifteen minutes, the boys were strapped in their car seats and headed toward Egg Harbor Marina.
During her years with Rory, Prim had learned to go with the flow. Besides, what her father said when he arrived made sense. Summer wouldn’t last forever. All too soon he’d be back teaching in the classroom, and the time he could spend with the twins would be more limited.
Prim had never enjoyed fishing, not even as a kid. Surprisingly, it had been
her sister Delphinium, the most girlie of the four, who’d been their dad’s fishing buddy. With Fin now in LA, her boys appeared to be taking on that role.
As the taillights of her dad’s car disappeared around the corner, Prim considered her options. She could finish the laundry and clean the house. Perhaps give Boris a bath. She grimaced at the thought of manhandling the hundred-pound wolfhound by herself.
Or she could enjoy a latte and a Danish at a wonderful coffee shop downtown that just happened to be owned by her eldest sister. After closing up the house, Prim stepped out into the bright summer sunshine. She’d nearly reached her car when she heard her name.
“Hey, neighbor.” Max crossed his lawn in several long strides. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“What would that be?” Despite the thousand butterflies beating their wings against her throat, her voice remained calm.
“They’re about this high.” Max held a hand about four feet from the ground. “They have red hair and like bugs and baseball.”
“I think I know the two.” She couldn’t keep from smiling. “Callum and Connor just left. They’re spending the day fishing with my dad.”
“I knew it.” Max lifted his hands, let them fall. “I’ve been replaced.”
She grinned at his dramatically pained expression. “What are you talking about?”
“Your father used to call me whenever he got in a fishing mood.” Max expelled a heavy sigh. “I guess we’re both castoffs. Which means we must stick together.”
Pleasure washed over her at the thought. “We must?”
“We must.” He gestured toward her car. “Where are you headed?”
“I thought I’d grab a latte and something sweet at Ami’s bakery.”
He cocked his head. “Want company?”
“You said we must stick together, so sure, come along, cast-off fishing buddy.”
Max chuckled. “Interested in mixing business with pleasure?”
Prim gazed suspiciously up at him. “Maybe.”
“I’d like to review the parade lineup with you.” He gave her a sheepish look. “And, in the interest of full disclosure, if you have time, I’d also like to walk the parade route.”