by Glynna Kaye
This was not how an introduction to the house was to have taken place. She’d wanted to get a feel for the work to be done, then present a plan to the kids and parents along with a guided tour. She’d certainly have done advance cleanup on her own.
Nevertheless, with Luke and the five teens right behind her, she stepped up on the covered porch, opened the screen door and inserted a key in the dead bolt. Taking a steadying breath, she pushed open the door. Please, Lord, let the inside be better than the outside.
It wasn’t.
“Ugh.” Travis slipped past her, hand in hand with Scottie, whose nose was crinkled in disgust as they stepped into the shadowed entryway, the long-shut-up space somehow still smelling faintly of stale cigarette.
Luke gave a low whistle as they moved into the adjoining living room, an open spindled staircase overlooking the space. “This used to be a nice place. Not fancy, but I had no idea Bachelor Bob lived like this in his later years.”
Delaney reached for the wall switch, illuminating the room and her heart plummeted even further. In all honesty, the house had the appearance of a secondhand shop that had been hit by a tornado. Furniture was arranged haphazardly. Newspapers and magazines were piled up on a sagging sofa and empty soda cans littered the floor. Ashtrays overflowed. Dog or cat hair clung to the blades of the overhead fan, and light filtering through the heavy, ratty-looking drapes revealed peeling wallpaper and a stained carpet that had seen better days.
“Yuck.” Red-haired Nelson eyed the room with revulsion.
Cautiously picking a path through the debris, they ventured to another room, its built-in corner cabinetry suggesting it had served as a dining room even though no table or chairs filled the space, and then peered into the dimly lit kitchen.
“They want this place livable by August?” Kendrick gazed doubtfully around the room. Linoleum buckled, the cabinets needed fresh paint and scarred countertops begged to be replaced. Food-encrusted dishes were stacked in the sink, likely from when Bachelor Bob left them there. “Try August a decade from now.”
Under Luke’s disapproving gaze, Delaney turned to the dining room window to push aside the drapes. With a gasp she leaped back as the curtain rod pulled loose from the wall, the weight of the heavy lined fabric sending her stumbling into Luke’s sturdy frame. How embarrassing. But she nevertheless managed to smile up at him as his strong hands set her upright for the second time in a week. “See what a bit of sunshine can do?”
Travis shook his head. “Yeah, now you can see the spiderwebs and the gunk on the floor.”
“Don’t look in the half bath back there, either,” warned Nelson’s twin as he rejoined them. “I checked it out. Talk about gross.”
A corner of Travis’s lip curled. “Not even the Masons will want to move in here.”
“They will when we’re done with it.” Delaney determinedly motioned toward the kitchen. “Imagine what it will look like with new flooring, painted cabinets, and the walls a creamy yellow. Cheerful curtains will go above the sink and a cute oak table will fit in over there.”
Kendrick grimaced. “Imagination is about as good as it’s going to get.”
“I like it.” Everyone turned to the curly-haired Sybil who up until now had trailed behind the others, remaining silent, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if unwilling to touch anything. “It’s kind of like Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree, don’t you think? All it needs is love.”
“Love it all you want, Syb.” Travis gave her a mocking smile. “You’ll have to love it enough for the rest of us, because we’re not cleaning anybody’s disgusting house.”
“I like it, too, now that I’m getting used to it.” Scottie shot her boyfriend a challenging look. “It’s like one of those places they fix up on TV. You know, the before and after shows.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Nelson looked around the room with renewed interest.
Delaney’s spirits lifted. “It is.”
Travis punched his father lightly in the shoulder. “What do you think, Dad?”
Luke gazed around the room, taking in the details. Had he noticed the quality woodwork around the windows and doors? The home’s potential? She waited with bated breath.
“Well...” he said at long last. “It has character.”
Travis grinned at his friends, confident his father was about to put the kibosh on the project.
Luke turned to Delaney. “This place has been closed up for quite a few years. If rodents are lurking about, there could be a risk no parent would be willing to take.”
“They’ve had it checked out. Clean bill of health.” Thank goodness Hope Ministries had seen to that already.
“There’s a lot of work to be done here in a limited amount of time.” Luke again assessed the space. “But the interior appears to be doable. Good old-fashioned manual labor.”
Hope sparking, Delaney watched him intently. The kids seemed divided. Luke’s opinion could sway the final decision either way.
A clearly dismayed Travis stared at his dad. “You’re saying we have to take this on?”
“I’ll leave that decision up to the youth group.” Luke cast a questioning look at the teens even though Sunday night he hadn’t hesitated to communicate that he thought her idea was a bad one. Was he so confident that they’d nix the project that he could leave the kids to make their own decision?
Travis triumphantly shot his hand high above his head. “All in favor of ditching this place raise your hand.”
Without hesitation, Kendrick seconded the motion with a wave of his upstretched arm. But Sybil crossed her arms and Scottie pointedly slipped her hands behind her back. Nelson, avoiding Travis’s glare, stared at the floor.
“Come on, dude.” Travis’s tone was that of someone used to giving orders and having them followed. “Don’t tell me you can hardly wait to scrub bathrooms for the Masons.”
Delaney held her breath.
“Of course not, but...” Nelson met his friend’s gaze. “But what if that’s exactly what God wants me to do?”
“Come on, you’re letting the girls sway you.”
“No, I’m not. I’m thinking about something Jesus said. You know, about how if we help someone in need, it’s as though we were doing it for Him.” He turned to his twin. “If Jesus was the one moving in here, would you clean it up for Him?”
Sensing the direction this might be headed, Travis firmly grasped Kendrick’s still-upraised arm to hold it steady. But the redheaded boy tugged away and slowly lowered his hand.
“Yeah, I guess I would.”
The girls clapped, ignoring a scowling Travis as their bright eyes met Delaney’s. She glanced toward Luke. So that was it? He wasn’t going to try to talk them out of it? Insist that other parents weigh in or that the rest of the youth group vote?
Nelson glanced at his watch. “Hey, we’d better get moving. Lunch break’s almost over. We don’t want detentions this close to the end of the year.”
Tomorrow was the last day of school and next weekend they could get the youth project started.
Nelson’s announcement was enough to get the kids out the door and, when they’d departed, Delaney turned cautiously to Luke.
* * *
“So you’re good with this?” Delaney looked up at him with hopeful eyes. Pretty, appealing eyes.
Did it much matter what he thought? With Lois and Garrett from the church on board, would she defer to his opinion? Not likely. But it wasn’t so much about the effort it would take. Manual labor wouldn’t hurt any of the kids. It was about the Masons.
“There’s a lot more work to be done here than I think you realize.”
“It’s doable. You said so yourself.”
“Given all hands on deck day in and day out, sure. But you could be biting off more than you can chew.”
Her chin lifted. “Garrett thinks that with the kids pitching in most Saturdays and a few other days here and there, we can do it with room to spare.”
Since when had the preacher acquired project management savvy?
“That’s just it. I’m not going to order Travis or Anna to take part if they don’t want to. I doubt many parents will either once they learn that this place is for Benton and Lizzie Mason.”
Moving to stand inside the foyer, he glanced up the wooden staircase to the second floor. He should probably check that out, too, but didn’t imagine it was in much better condition than the main floor. Structurally, though, the house seemed to be sound. The project would mainly be de-junking and deep cleaning. Repair and cosmetic work.
Who’d have thought old Bachelor Bob, always shaved and spotlessly dressed, lived in such squalor? Had no one made sure he was doing okay? Or, more likely, had the sometimes stubborn old guy refused assistance?
Joining him in the foyer, Delaney stepped close with an attention-getting poke in the arm, her eyes troubled. “Do people hate the Masons that much? So much that they don’t want them to have decent living conditions? To be together as a family?”
“Nobody hates anybody.” Where’d she get that idea? “But this is a town where most people take pride in doing whatever needs to be done to provide for their families. We choose to hold up our head. And if we can’t make a go of it here, we move on, not expecting handouts from others who sacrificed to get whatever they’ve managed to attain.”
Which was exactly why, if it worked out, he and his children would be heading to Kansas soon. He couldn’t tolerate being dependent on his folks for much longer. A man had his pride.
“The Masons have had some setbacks. They need help getting back on their feet.”
He gave her a level look, trying not to notice how her hair glimmered in the dim light, framing the soft oval of her face. “I doubt they’ve ever stood on their own two feet. From what I’ve seen, few in the fine arts around here are able to support themselves with their art. Most have to supplement with other means of income.”
“But—”
“The Masons think they live in an age where a wealthy patron—or the hardworking citizens around them—should put a roof over their head and feed their five kids while they dabble in their art. I’m not convinced you can help people who make no effort to help themselves.”
Sadness touched her features. “Kids shouldn’t be punished because of their parents.”
“Nobody’s punishing anyone.”
She tilted her head thoughtfully, a curious light now filling her eyes. “What do you do for a living, Luke?”
He shifted, uncomfortable with the abrupt change in topic. Where was she going with this? “I do bookkeeping for Hunter Enterprises.”
“Have you always done that?”
“No. And no, it’s not my dream job. But I do it because it needs to be done and it provides for my family.” And he’d already decided that it wasn’t enough, that changes needed to be made.
“What is your dream job?” She gave him a pointed look.
“I—” Did he even have one anymore? He’d been in the army quite a few years, targeting what he thought would be a lifetime career. But when Marsha’s mental health became an issue, his focus wavered. And after...after she’d chosen to leave him, he’d switched gears to be there for his kids. No, it hadn’t been an easy decision to leave the army. Nor was choosing now to leave Hunter Ridge. “This isn’t about me, Delaney.”
She continued to study him. “But you won’t try to stop the youth group from working on the project, will you?”
He stepped back, away from the faint sweet scent of her.
“Like I said, I’ll let my kids decide for themselves.” It would be a no-go for Travis. But he didn’t want peer pressure from Sybil and Scottie to push Anna into something she didn’t want to do. That oldest Mason boy had picked on her at times. “I can’t speak for the parents of the other members of the youth group.”
Delaney’s narrowed eyes implied he could influence them if he chose to. As a matter of fact, he could—and would—had the Masons not been the intended recipients of the group’s hard work.
“I guess we wait and see, then,” she concluded. “But we need to get started by Saturday. I’ll contact the other parents and invite them to see the place Friday evening.”
Not until Friday? Was that so she could clean up the property herself in hopes of swaying opinion? Inwardly he groaned. Should he offer to help get the beyond-repair furniture and junk moved out? She sure couldn’t haul it away on that bicycle of hers that she’d been tooling around town on the past few days.
Then again, Garrett had probably offered his assistance. From the impression he got when Delaney first arrived, Garrett likely had designs on her. Couldn’t blame him. She’d make a better pastor’s wife than a gal who Luke suspected he’d not quite gotten over.
With a wistful look, Delaney made a sweeping motion toward the living room. “Hopefully we can—”
That’s when he noticed.
“Hey, what happened to the rings?”
She glanced self-consciously at her hands, then tucked them behind her, avoiding his gaze.
“Did you get them placed at the Artists’ Co-op?”
She shook her head. “It didn’t work out.”
“It wasn’t worth your time?”
“It wasn’t worth the Co-op’s time.” Her cheeks dimpled as if somehow finding humor in that. “I didn’t meet their standards.”
He’d heard similar self-critical assumptions too many times from Anna when things didn’t go as she’d hoped. “Maybe your jewelry didn’t meet their standards, but don’t say you didn’t.”
Startled eyes looked up at his firm reprimand. “Okay, my jewelry didn’t meet their standards. It didn’t even make it to the jury phase. In fact, Sunshine Carston wouldn’t accept my application fee and paperwork for membership, so at least I didn’t suffer the humiliation of an official rejection by all the members of the Co-op.”
Leave it to Sunshine to trample somebody’s dreams.
“It’s my experience that Ms. Carston is an opinionated young woman. She’s not always right even though she thinks she is. I thought your rings were real nice.”
“Thanks, but I’ll survive. It was a whim anyway.”
Again avoiding his probing gaze, she slipped past him, out the door and on to the porch where Rags awaited. Luke followed, pulling the door closed behind him.
“You were excited about it last week. I say if your work didn’t make the cut, step up and make it happen.”
“What do you mean?”
“Put more effort into it. You know, practice makes perfect.”
Irritation flashed in her eyes, but when she turned away to insert the key in the dead-bolt lock, her words came lightly. “Like I said. No biggie. There won’t be time for that nonsense with the youth project filling my time anyway.”
She might sound indifferent, but he didn’t miss that the deliberately nonchalant tone masked deep disappointment, not only annoyance with him. He could tell by the set of her jaw, as well, that the subject was closed and further discussion unwelcome.
She stepped off the porch, Rags close at her heels, then knelt down to hold the dog’s furry face between her hands. Roughing up his fur, she dodged his tongue with a laugh, as if without a care in the world. As though her artistic ambitions didn’t matter. Had never mattered.
Never one to be praised for his perceptiveness and sensitivity, Luke nevertheless knew better. But why did he hate it so much that Sunshine had squelched Delaney’s dream? And why was a plan already formulating in his head?
Chapter Six
“Isn’t this adorable?” Delaney’s longtime friend, Paris Perslow, soon to
be Paris Hawk, lifted down an oversize, stuffed bear from a Timbertop Gift Shop shelf. “Do you think Deron is too old for it?”
Deron was the six-year-old nephew of Paris’s fiancé and, if all continued as planned, he’d be their adopted son in the not-too-distant future. From the way her gray eyes lit up, Paris had obviously already fallen in love with the furry critter. Just as she had with Deron.
“Every kid needs a stuffed bear at some time in their life. From what you’ve told me about his background, I doubt he’s ever had one.”
“Then I’ll get it.” With a satisfied smile, Paris held the bear out at arms’ length. “This little guy can keep Deron company while Cody and I are away on our honeymoon.”
Periodically pausing to peruse the tiny shop’s mountain-themed wares, together they made their way to the checkout counter where an auburn-haired young woman rang up the sale. She glanced at Delaney almost shyly.
“You’re working with the Christ’s Church youth group this summer, aren’t you?”
“I am. I’m Delaney Marks. This is my friend Paris. And you are...”
“Lacy Cox. I was at church when they introduced you.” She slipped the bear into a large, decorative shopping bag, his face peeking over the top, and handed it to Paris. “Welcome to Hunter Ridge.”
“Thank you. I’ve been here such a short time, but already love the town and the kids in the youth group.”
Delaney turned to scan the store, then turned back to Lacy. “You wouldn’t happen to know if there’s anywhere in town that carries quality men’s leather wallets, would you? Paris is trying to find a gift for her fiancé’s best man.”
Lacy smiled at Paris. “You’re getting married soon?”
“A few weeks.”
“Congratulations.” Then her dark eyes narrowed in thought. “We lost our men’s clothing store a few years ago. But try the Echo Ridge Outpost. It’s just down the road, past Cousin Cathy’s Closet. They specialize in outdoor gear, but have a bunch of other stuff, too, like leather goods.”