by Irene Hannon
“Okay. Thanks.” Hannah spoke for all of them.
Luke’s sister headed toward her chair, and her two admirers followed as if she were the Pied Piper.
While Luke collected his things, Kelsey made her way over to her own chair and awkwardly lowered herself into it. Her neighbor was right. One of these days very soon she was going to have to switch to a regular lawn chair. She could still get into this one. But getting out was becoming a major problem.
By the time he returned and set up his chair beside her, she had settled in and was opening the canvas bag she’d toted down with her.
“I take it I made a tactical error.”
The corners of her mouth lifted into a smile at his quiet comment. “Kids that age need space.”
He sighed and settled his sunglasses on his nose, all the while keeping tabs on his sister. “Yeah. But they also need supervision. Even if they don’t think they do.” He narrowed his eyes as one of the young men leaned in close to Hannah.
Kelsey’s lips twitched. “That’s true. But a more subtle approach might work better.”
He transferred his attention to her. With the dark shades, she couldn’t read his eyes, but she could feel his scrutiny.
“What those guys have on their minds isn’t subtle.”
A flush warmed her cheeks, and she made a production out of pulling the tin of scones from her bag. “Maybe not. But Hannah seems to be handling them just fine. And they appear to be behaving themselves.”
“Things might be different if we weren’t close by.” He raked his fingers through his hair and shook his head. “I was afraid this visit might be challenging. But this wasn’t the kind of challenge I had in mind.”
As laughter drifted their way from the three younger people, Kelsey looked toward them and held up the tin. Hannah smiled and spoke to the young men, and the three of them started down the beach.
“You might want to give her a chance to prove she’s responsible before you shift into overprotective mode.” Kelsey popped the lid on the scones and held the tin out to him. “I recommend the blueberry. And I’d take one quick if I were you. I have a feeling those two young guys are going to make short work of my stash.”
Ten minutes later, as Luke dug around in the bottom of the tin for the few crumbs that remained, he had to admit Kelsey had been right about Hannah’s admirers. They’d devoured Dorothy’s scones.
She’d been right about being overprotective, too. As Hannah interacted with the young men while they ate their scones, she was poised, confident—and in control. With every gesture and every word, she was setting clear boundaries for them. Letting them know what pleased her—and what didn’t. It was masterful to watch, from the look of disapproval she shot Eric after he uttered an offensive word, to the wrinkled nose she offered Jason when he mentioned a raucous drinking party his fraternity had sponsored last school year.
As the three younger people conversed a few feet away, Kelsey raised an eyebrow at him, as if to say, See? She’s fine. You have nothing to worry about.
He wasn’t convinced of that yet, but he did feel a little less driven to hover over her every minute of her stay. Not that he could anyway, with his commitments to the youth center project. That was part of the problem.
Hannah wandered over for another scone, then made a face when she found the tin empty. “Those were great, Kelsey. Did you make them?”
“No.” She closed the tin and slipped it back in her bag. “My shop mate did. She runs a tearoom.”
“Yeah?” Hannah plopped onto the sand beside her. “That’s cool. I’m starting to get into cooking. Do you think she’d give me the recipes for these?”
“I’ll ask her for you.”
“So you make quilts, right?” Hannah lifted a handful of sand and let it sift through her fingers.
“That’s right.”
“That’s cool, too, I guess. If you’re into the country look.” She gave Kelsey a sheepish grin. “That’s not my thing.”
“It’s not mine, either.”
His sister furrowed her brow. “But isn’t that what quilting is all about?”
“Not the kind I do. This is quilted.” She hefted the tote at her side. The modern, geometric design defied every stereotype Luke had about quilting.
“For real?” Hannah examined it, running her fingers over the colorful pattern.
“Yep. Here, let me show you the pattern I’m sketching for my new commission.”
As Kelsey dug into her tote bag again, Luke noticed that the two guys in the background were getting restless. Cooking and quilting were obviously not high on their list of interesting topics.
Hannah apparently came to the same realization. Excusing herself, she rose and strolled over to them. After a brief conversation, they took off down the beach and she dropped down beside Kelsey again.
“What’s up with your new friends?” Luke leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his stomach.
She shrugged. “They’ll be bored with this stuff. But I’ll see them around again. They’ll be here for another ten days.”
And with that, the two women put their heads together in an intense discussion about fabrics and designs and techniques. He heard words like “tacking” and “batting” being bandied about, but they had little meaning to him—at least in the context of quilts.
Luke tuned out the conversation, leaned his head back and let the warmth of the sun seep into his skin. As long as Hannah was with Kelsey, he could relax. Might as well take advantage of the moment.
The next thing he knew, a jab on his arm jolted him awake. Jerking upright, he gripped the edges of his chair, every muscle taut, ready to spring into action.
Hannah regarded him from a foot away, eyes wide. “Sorry, Luke. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
He unclenched his fingers from the arms of the chair and forced his lips into a smile. “No problem. I guess I spent too much time on the front lines. So what have you ladies been up to while I zoned out?”
His sister switched gears at once, quickly moving past his extreme reaction. It took Kelsey a few seconds longer to regroup. As Hannah gave him a recap of their conversation, his neighbor gathered up her things and tucked them back in her tote bag, the tremble in her fingers obvious as she fumbled with the snap.
“So, would that be okay?”
At Hannah’s question, he refocused on her. “What?”
“Could I visit Kelsey at her shop and meet Dorothy? The lady who made those great scones?”
“Oh. Sure. Maybe Monday, if that’s okay with Kelsey.”
“We’d love for you to stop by. And speaking of the shop, it’s time for me to get ready for work.”
She made a move to stand, and Luke rose at once to extend a hand.
Flashing him a chagrined look, she accepted it and let him pull her to her feet. “Thanks. I’m switching to the regular lawn chair for my next visit.” She folded up the beach chair, tucked it under her arm and reached for her bag.
“Why don’t I carry that up for you?”
“Thanks, but I can manage. It’s not heavy now, since we finished off all those scones.” She winked at his sister, who smiled back. “You two stay here and soak up some rays. It’s a perfect beach day.” With a wave, she set off for the steps.
Luke watched her go while Hannah trotted over to retrieve her beach chair. Less than half a minute later, his sister returned.
“I bet it’s not easy to do all those steps if you’re pregnant.” Hannah checked on Kelsey, who had paused at the midway landing, while she set up her chair.
“I’m sure it’s not.”
“So what’s her story?” Hannah plopped in her chair and tipped her head up to him. “You didn’t say much yesterday, other than she was pregnant and here alone.”
“That’s all I know.”
“Yeah? Do you think her husband died or something? I mean, a guy would have to be nuts to divorce someone like her. She’s cool.”
Kelsey reached th
e top of the steps, and Luke eased back into his own chair. He didn’t disagree with Hannah’s conclusion. Why a man would willingly walk away from a woman like Kelsey was beyond comprehension. From what he’d seen so far, she was smart, caring, strong and had her priorities straight. As for his sister’s question about Kelsey’s marital status—he had no idea.
“She’s a very private person, Hannah. And I’ve only been here a week. It takes longer than that to establish a friendship strong enough to exchange confidences.”
“Hmm.” Hannah spread some sunscreen on her arms, her expression thoughtful. “I thought she was very open. I mean, she didn’t have to tell me about how her sister thought she was crazy to throw away her corporate job and move here. Or how her grandmother taught her to quilt when she was a little girl, and how much she misses her. Or how she’s not sleeping very well anymore because the baby kicks so much.”
Dumbfounded, Luke twisted his head toward his sister. “When did she tell you all that?”
“While you were sleeping.” She put down the tube of sunscreen and faced him. “So we need to have a talk, okay?”
“About what?” He was still grappling with all the information Hannah had learned about his neighbor in the space of—he checked his watch—thirty minutes.
“About being superbrother. Here’s the thing, Luke—you don’t have to worry about me. I know how to handle guys. You need to trust me.”
“I do trust you. I’m not so sure about the guys.”
“Look…I’m only going to be here three weeks. What’s the point of starting something that’s going nowhere? I’d rather hang around Kelsey, to be honest. All guys want to talk about is sports. Not my thing. And for the record, I don’t fool around. I still go to church every Sunday, and my values are solid. So give me some space. And quit worrying, okay?”
Time for an attitude adjustment. Time to take Kelsey’s advice and dial down the protective mode.
“Maybe I hovered a little too much this morning.”
“Ya think?” She rolled her eyes again.
“But I promised Mom and Dad I’d watch out for you.”
“I know. And I promised them I wouldn’t give you any trouble about that. Unless you went overboard.” She stuck out her hand. “Truce?”
A grin tugged at his lips and he took her fingers. “Truce.”
She returned the smile, then closed her eyes and settled in for some serious beach time.
Luke did the same, his mind once again more at ease. He was liking this grown-up sister of his. And Kelsey obviously was, too.
An image of his neighbor struggling up the steps alone flashed across his mind, and his smile dimmed. The alone part bothered him.
But maybe, with Hannah here, he’d find out more about her solitary state. The two of them had hit it off, and she’d already told his sister more than she’d told him in a week.
Not that he intended to pry, of course. Or ask Hannah to reveal confidences. But if a few discreet questions ferreted out a nugget or two of information, he wasn’t averse to asking them.
Because the more he saw of Kelsey, the more he was convinced she carried a burden that was weighing down her slender shoulders.
And whether it was wise or not, he wanted to help her shed some of it.
Chapter Seven
Luke slipped his arms into his sports jacket and tapped on the bathroom door as he passed. “Five-minute warning.”
The door opened, and Hannah poked her head out. “I need ten.”
“Eight.”
“Okay, okay. Why do we have to go to the early service anyway? This is supposed to be a vacation.” She stifled a yawn.
“I thought it might be less crowded. We can go later next Sunday, if you’d rather. There’s one at ten, too.”
“I vote for that.” She shut the door.
While he waited, he booted up his laptop and checked his email. Messages had been flying all week among the youth fellowship board members, and they’d hammered out a lot of the fundraising plan. At tomorrow morning’s meeting, they’d finalize it and move ahead on all fronts—including implementing the communications and PR initiatives Kelsey had been tweaking for them as the plan solidified. She already had a newspaper interview lined up for him tomorrow afternoon with The Record in Saugatuck, and one with The Holland Sentinel on Wednesday.
When Hannah appeared nine minutes later, he checked his watch and arched an eyebrow.
Heaving a long-suffering sigh, she planted her hands on her hips. “Chill, big brother. It’s only five after eight. How long will it take to get to church?”
“I’m not sure.” He clicked his computer shut. “This will be my first visit. I was too jet-lagged last Sunday to do more than veg.”
“Hmph. Good thing God doesn’t veg out on you.”
He grinned. “You sound like Mom.”
She made a face at him. “Ha-ha. So let’s get this show on the road.”
Twelve minutes after they pulled out of their driveway, Luke angled into a parking spot beside the small, white church in Saugatuck, where Reverend Howard presided. The man had impressed him at last week’s board meeting, and Luke had toyed with giving the man’s church a try.
Finding out Kelsey was a congregant had clinched his decision.
Funny how his attitude about his neighbor had done a one-eighty in the past week. When he’d found her on his beach, he’d been annoyed at the intrusion. Now he looked forward to their encounters.
Go figure.
They slipped into a pew near the back, and a few minutes before the service began Kelsey walked past them down the aisle. Alone, as usual. And so focused on the stained glass window above the sanctuary, with its soaring representation of the Resurrection, that she didn’t even notice them.
He expected her to sit alone, too. But he was pleased when Dorothy waved at her and slid over to make room in her pew.
The organ music swelled, and Luke did his best to immerse himself in the service. Yet he found his gaze wandering to the blond-haired mother-to-be far too often. A nudge in the side from Hannah’s elbow after he skipped a verse in one of the hymns helped him refocus.
As he’d expected, Reverend Howard’s sermon was excellent—and appropriate to the day’s reading from Matthew, about Peter’s faltering trust as he walked toward the Lord across the water.
“How often in our lives have circumstances overwhelmed us and undermined our faith?” the pastor concluded. “How often, in the midst of crises, does our trust in the Lord waver and we, like Peter, begin to sink? Not into water, but into despair and desperation and depression?
“My friends, the message of today’s reading is simple. No matter what perils befall us…no matter how many bad things happen to us…no matter how alone or lost we feel…the Lord is always nearby, His hand outstretched, waiting to save us if we but ask. Waiting to banish our fears. So be not afraid. Go to Him in your need, and He will never fail you.”
The organist played the introduction to Carlos’s favorite hymn, “Amazing Grace,” and Luke opened his hymnal. No matter the danger, no matter the risk, the young medic had never been afraid.
“The Lord called me to this work,” he’d once confided as they’d shared a meal during a rare quiet interlude, when Luke had asked about his steady calmness under fire. “This is where I belong. And if He calls me home while I’m here…” The man had shrugged. “His will be done.”
“But what about all your plans?” Luke had pressed. “Being a paramedic, having a family of your own, the youth center….”
Carlos had just smiled. “The Lord’s plans trump mine any day.” And then he’d snatched Luke’s cookie off his tray and popped it in his mouth with a grin, lightening the serious mood.
The man’s joy, his trust, his confidence, had infused Luke’s heart with new fervor for the Lord. And had banished many of his own fears—and regrets.
But not all of them.
Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Luke dropped out of the song.
He felt Hannah send him a questioning glance, but he ignored her as he struggled to rein in his emotions.
Funny. In the field, he’d had no trouble keeping an iron grip on his feelings. There, it had been a matter of survival. As it was, every young life lost had ripped at his gut. Had he given in fully to the pain, he wouldn’t have been able to function.
Now, back in safe territory, his emotions were straining at the tight leash he’d kept them on for years. Especially his feelings about Carlos.
The man who had saved his life.
Carlos had never agreed with him on that point, always countering by saying he hadn’t known there was a sniper on the roof when he’d tugged Luke back into the shelter of the mud hut where they’d taken refuge. He’d just wanted to ask his advice about one of the wounded soldiers he was treating. You should thank God, not me, he’d later told Luke. It was His hand, not a human one, that saved you.
All Luke knew was that the next man out of the hut had taken a fatal bullet in the brain.
Three weeks later, Carlos, too, had died.
The young medic’s final words echoed in his mind. Let not your heart be troubled.
Good advice. But hard to follow.
And Luke had a strong suspicion his neighbor, seated a dozen pews in front of him—her blond hair spotlighted by a shaft of morning light radiating through the stained glass window in the sanctuary—felt the same way.
“Hey.”
At the whispered word, he looked over at Hannah.
“You okay?”
He nodded and picked up the melody as they came to one of his favorite lines. “T’was grace that brought us safe thus far, and grace will lead us home.”
Give me that grace, Lord. And please give it to Kelsey, too.
Kelsey saw Luke and Hannah as soon as she exited the church. They were off to one side of the lawn, chatting with Reverend Howard.