by Glynna Kaye
For crying out loud, they hardly knew each other.
He took a ragged breath and grabbed a shovel. “Travis. Kendrick. Bring those two wheelbarrows over here and let’s get started.”
The boys exchanged a glance at the firmness of his tone. A tone he hadn’t much used since he’d left the military and stopped barking orders at subordinates. In unison, they snapped to attention and saluted. “Yes, sir! Right away, sir!”
But he didn’t crack a smile. He had to get this dirt hauled out of the driveway and hauled out now. Then get himself out of there before he made a fool of himself.
* * *
For whatever reason, Luke was no longer in a good mood, the playfulness he’d exhibited during the touch football game having evaporated into thin air once he set to work. When she ventured to bring him a bottle of water, he paused only long enough to wipe the sweat from his forehead, down the water and hand the bottle back to her with a brisk nod and a polite thank-you.
Should she not have laughed at him because he had a pine needle sticking out of his hair? She thought he’d found that amusing, prompting an unmistakable flicker of interest in his eyes that had set her heart racing. So maybe it was something else that was on his mind. Something that had nothing to do with her.
She wandered over to where the girls were still planting flowers in the soil they’d earlier dug up. Not an easy task since the ground was hard. With such a short growing season at this high elevation, they’d gone the route of starting with nursery plants rather than from scratch with seeds. Anna was now sharing a few tips for loosening the root-bound flowers from their plastic pots. Seemed she had a nose for numbers and a green thumb.
As she was about to join the girls, Delaney caught a glimpse of a boy leaning against a ponderosa pine just outside the front edge of the property. A teenager, in jeans, T-shirt and tennis shoes. She waved and, after a moment’s hesitation, he lifted his hand, as well.
She didn’t recognize him. Was he a member of the youth group who hadn’t been able to join the project earlier? Maybe one of the kids whose parents had decided he shouldn’t take part, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him?
Setting Luke’s empty bottle on the steps, she headed in the boy’s direction. He pushed away from the tree, his gaze wary as she approached. Did he think she was going to run him off?
“Hi. I’m Delaney.”
She held out her hand and, after a moment, the dark-eyed, dark-haired boy took a step forward to shake it.
“Drake.”
Up close, he looked to be about fifteen, slightly unkempt, with a voice in that awkward, changing adolescent male stage. His physique, likewise, was filling out, his shoulders broadening, a boy-man not yet comfortable in his own skin. But it was the expression in his eyes that struck her most. Caution mingling with hope.
“Good to meet you, Drake.” She motioned back toward the activity at the house. “Have you come to help us today?”
He shook his head. “Just...looking.”
“The youth group from Christ’s Church is fixing the place up as a summer project. We could always use more muscle, if you feel like pitching in. It’s fun.”
He stuffed his hands into his front pockets. “I don’t think so.”
“If you’re not into yard work, next weekend we hope to begin on indoor projects. General cleaning, stripping wallpaper, painting. It should be lots of fun, too.”
His eyes brightened. “I like to paint.”
She gave him an encouraging smile. “Fantastic. We’ll have plenty of that to do. Once the wallpaper is stripped, every single room needs to be repainted. Do you think you might like to join us for that?”
Before he could answer, something caught his attention behind her and the light in his eyes dimmed. She looked back at the house where the girls were standing by the porch, clustered together, voices low and solemn eyes focused in the direction of Delaney and Drake.
Puzzled, she turned again to the boy—but he was already striding, head down, across the street.
“Drake!” But he either didn’t hear her or chose not to.
She made her way across the yard to the girls, who had broken apart to return to their gardening. “Is something wrong?”
A grimacing Anna faced her. “That boy you were talking to?”
“Yes. Drake.”
“Drake Mason. Benton and Lizzie Mason’s son.”
Scottie joined Anna, slipping her arm around her shoulder. “He picked on Anna last year.”
“I didn’t know.” Delaney looked at Luke’s daughter with concern. That nice boy with the gentle, hopeful eyes was a bully? “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I invited him to join us next week.”
Sybil stared. “Join us?”
“He said he likes to paint.”
A male voice scoffed and she turned to Travis who’d come around the corner with an empty wheelbarrow. “He likes to paint, all right. Like in tagging.”
Malicious graffiti? Is that why his eyes had brightened, finding humor in saying that because he knew she didn’t know who he was?
Bewildered, Delaney looked around the circle of doubtful faces now gazing at her.
“If he’s coming next week—” Anna’s words came quietly, reluctantly. “I won’t be here.”
“Me, neither,” several of the girls said in unison.
Travis shook his head, his eyes clearly communicating that Delaney’s mistake was major. “It’s bad enough to be fixing up a house for the Masons, but inviting Drake here so he can make my little sister miserable? You can count me out, too. Probably everybody.”
They were abandoning ship?
Trying not to panic, she held up her hand. “Now hold on, gang—”
“Dad’s not going to like this, either.” Travis jerked his head in his father’s direction. Luke, having no doubt overheard at least part of the conversation, had placed the shovel on the graveled driveway and was heading toward them, his eyes dark with disapproval.
Oh, great.
Suddenly a yelp of laughter pierced the air as Kendrick and Nelson, arms flailing, came pounding into the front yard, Nelson’s best friend Marty in hot pursuit with a wildly spraying hose in his hands.
“Look out!” The boys charged into their midst, sending Travis, the screaming girls and Delaney scattering, but not before the hose had done its damage.
A grinning Marty spun to shoot the water once again in Kendrick and Nelson’s direction and, before she could remind herself that she was no longer seventeen years old, Delaney dashed toward him with a roar that would have made her Scottish ancestors proud.
Startled, he whirled toward her, the water hitting her full-force. She gasped, halted, then with renewed determination charged on, heedless of her sopping hair and wringing-wet clothes. With a squeal of laughter, the other girls rallied to join her, as did the boys. They’d almost had the spewing hose wrestled away from Marty when an ear-piercing whistle split the air.
“That’s enough!”
Startled, all activity halted as they turned eyes toward Luke, his expression grim as the hose gushed water on the ground at their feet.
“Turn that water off.”
The kids exchanged a quick glance at the brook-no-argument command, then Marty dashed around the corner of the house. The water cut to a dribble.
Luke folded his arms. “I hope you’re proud of yourselves.”
The sopping wet teens again exchanged a look with Delaney and each other. Then broke out laughing.
“Think it’s funny, do you?” From Luke’s tone, he obviously didn’t.
The bedraggled work crew looked at each other again. Anna stifled a giggle. Then Delaney bravely stepped out to halt in front of Anna and Travis’s father.
“Come on, Luke,” she coaxed with a smile, but not
iced the front of his shirt had been more than slightly dampened in the melee. “The kids are having fun. That’s all. Don’t be such an old—”
His sharp, unsmiling gaze brought her up short.
“Old what? Fuddy-duddy?” He shook his head in apparent exasperation as he gazed down at her. “It appears someone needs to be one around here.”
“Now, Luke...”
He broke eye contact and headed back to where he’d left his shovel. Then glanced back at the teens. “Come on kids, let’s get the tools picked up. Time to go.”
“Now, wait a minute.” She hurried after him, lowering her voice when she again reached his side. “If you’re mad at me—”
“I’m not mad at you.” He blinked, all innocence. “Maybe disappointed.”
Ouch.
“I mean, look at you.” His impersonal gaze raked her from the long, dripping hair to her waterlogged jeans to her wet, sandal-clad toes. “You’re supposed to be the adult here. Overseeing the project and setting an example. Seeing that no horseplay gets out of hand and no one gets hurt.”
“Nobody’s hurt.”
“They could have been.”
Why was he angry? “We were having fun, Luke. Don’t take it out on the kids.”
“I’m not taking anything out on the kids. It’s almost noon and I’m sure they have chores to do at home or paying jobs they need to get to. And—” He gave her a pointed look. “I didn’t spring for pizza today.”
She placed her hand lightly on his forearm, her voice soft as she looked up to him in appeal. “Please, Luke.”
Expressionless, he stared down at her. “And another thing, you and I will be having a talk about that Mason kid’s participation.”
He intended to shut out the boy this place was being fixed up for? Support the church youth in their boycott of the project?
Her stomach did a queasy rollover. “Luke—”
She tightened her grip on his forearm, but he pulled away to look over the top of her head where the kids had quickly put the wheelbarrows up by the house, gathered their tools and were drifting toward their vehicles parked along the street. Then he motioned to Travis and Anna who stood silently off to the side of the porch.
“Let’s go.” The shovel still in one hand, he moved to slip his free arm protectively around his daughter as they walked toward his truck. Rags, tail wagging as usual, followed.
Delaney stared in disbelief at their departing backs, anger and heartache mingling in equal proportions. With great effort she held herself back from dashing after them to demand that her side of things be heard.
But what was her side? That she’d innocently invited a seemingly nice, lonely-looking boy to join the youth group in their labors? Had wanted to give him the opportunity to make friends? That the kids were having fun and she’d joined in? How was that any different than Luke leaping into the boys’ touch football game?
What did I do that was so awful, Lord?
When the Hunter trio reached the truck, Luke stowed their tools in the bed. But before she got in the cab, Anna looked back at Delaney with an apologetic half smile, obviously not understanding any better than Delaney did what had just transpired.
Travis’s expression was unusually thoughtful as he stood to the side watching his father settle himself inside the truck. Then shifting his pondering gaze to Delaney, the teen lifted a hand in a parting wave before climbing into the vehicle, as well.
Doors slammed with finality. The engine roared to life. Then the truck pulled away behind the last of the departing vehicles transporting other teens. Delaney stood alone in the puddled yard, only an empty water bottle and a few unplanted flowers next to the porch to keep her company.
She fisted her hands at her sides, determined not to cry.
Something had gotten into Luke Hunter today. Something that amounted to more than her well-intentioned invitation to the Mason boy and the laughter-filled drenching. And, if Travis’s unusually contemplative expression held a clue, it appeared Luke’s son might know what it was.
Chapter Eleven
He’d overreacted. Big-time.
The kids had ridden home with him in silence as they stared out the window, their only communication a shake of their heads when he’d offered to pick up burgers and fries for lunch. He’d been rewarded with no more enthusiasm when he threw in a milk shake.
Now, on the following Saturday morning—Fourth of July weekend—he sat in his pickup, staring at the project house. With a new roof and a number of new windows, the yard neatly groomed and flowers brightening the border of the porch, even without a fresh coat of paint it looked like a whole different place than it had a few weeks ago.
Delaney’s was the sole car parked on the street in front of him. He’d left a message on her phone yesterday morning that testing had confirmed the house was free of asbestos contamination. She hadn’t returned the call, but he still needed to talk to her.
Figuring the Mason kid would be a no-show, he could have insisted that Anna and Travis come this morning, but Anna had already volunteered to help Rio and their cousin J.C. accompany several parties of horseback riders on trail rides. Travis, too, had committed to assisting his uncle Grady repair one of the wagons that would be used for a hay ride under the stars tomorrow evening. Hunter’s Hideaway wouldn’t be putting on a fireworks show, but at this altitude visitors would see a spectacular display of God’s handiwork.
The dashboard clock confirmed it was already nine o’clock. Two hours later than the previous workday start times. But even if kids weren’t boycotting the project due to Delaney’s invitation to Drake, it was likely the turnout would be slim on a holiday weekend. Nevertheless, he needed to get his feet moving in the direction of the house so he could talk to Delaney alone.
He opened the truck door, then paused to glance at Rags who tilted his head curiously. “What am I going to say to her, buddy?”
That he couldn’t stop thinking about her? How she made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t felt in years? That her smiling presence and gentle fingers plucking the pine needle from his hair had unnerved him?
Or the added unfortunate truth? That a laughing, sopping-wet Delaney attempting to wrestle the hose from Marty, didn’t look much older than Scottie, Anna and Sybil.
He stepped out of the vehicle and his dog leaped to the ground. “She looked and acted like one of the kids.”
Her mentioning that boys will be boys had uncomfortably reminded him of Packy’s warning to keep an eye on Travis. And her calling to his attention that he was an old fuddy-duddy drilled home what he’d known from the moment he’d met her. She was young. Too young for him. And he’d immaturely taken that out on her and the kids.
Rags raced ahead and Luke reluctantly followed, then opened the screen door when he reached the house. The wooden interior door stood open and he stuck his head inside. The living room beyond the entry was empty. “Anybody home?”
After a long moment when he thought Delaney must be in the backyard, her voice carried from somewhere in the far reaches of the house. “I’m back here. In the kitchen.”
Letting the screen door close behind him, he passed through the living and dining rooms, then paused in the doorway to the kitchen. Hair tied back and on her hands and knees, Delaney was prying up linoleum with a crowbar. In fact, she’d made considerable headway, so she must have been here for some time. Or maybe yesterday, too, after having gotten his message about the asbestos testing results.
“Good morning.”
Brushing back a stray strand of hair, she didn’t look up. “Good morning to you, too.”
“You’re coming right along there.”
“Yep.”
“Could you use some help?”
She looked up then, and he could see the hurt confusion in her eyes. The hurt he’d pu
t there by acting like such a jerk. “Thanks, but I’ll have plenty of help when the kids get here.”
“Anna won’t be able to make it.”
“And Travis?”
“He has chores to take care of at the Hideaway. I’m not sure how many others will come on a holiday weekend. Lots going on in the high country. Family stuff.”
She nodded, then resolutely returned to her work. Feeling dismissed, Luke started to turn away, then caught himself. “We need to talk, Delaney.”
With a sigh, she sat back and placed the crowbar on the floor. At least she didn’t intend to clobber him with it.
“Luke, when I invited Drake to join us, I didn’t even know he was a Mason. And I certainly didn’t know he’d been picking on Anna.”
“That’s not what I’m here to talk about. Not entirely, anyway.” He didn’t like towering above her, so approached to reach out his hand. After a moment’s hesitation, her expression flickering uncertainly, she placed her small, soft hand in his and he helped her to her feet.
She immediately slipped her hands into her back pockets, watchfully waiting for him to continue. But where should he start?
“I was out of line last weekend. It’s a fact that my kids, once they finally started speaking to me again, let me know in no uncertain terms. I’ve already apologized to them, but now I want to apologize to you.”
“Thank you.” No gushing forth with reassurance that his misbehavior had been nothing. That he didn’t need to apologize. Forget about the whole thing. No hard feelings.
“I don’t have any excuses, Delaney. I embarrassed my kids. The other kids. I embarrassed you. And... I suspect I hurt your feelings.”
“Yes, you did. I’ve racked my brain trying to figure out what I did that was so wrong, besides inviting Drake.”
“That was an honest mistake. You had no way of knowing.” He ran his hand roughly through his hair. “Drake won’t come back. He doesn’t want to work. He was nosing around, trying to stir things up.”
“Maybe so. But if the other kids are boycotting as a show of solidarity for Anna, that means they haven’t yet bought into the project, taken ownership. And that’s my fault.”