by Karen Ball
With a weighted sigh, Jayce plucked the sunglasses from his face. “Right. Okay. God. He’s there. But that’s pretty much it.”
“Think so, huh?”
“Hey, I know you think He’s all around us and inside us. And that He’s all involved in our lives and stuff. But—” his shrug was eloquent—“I don’t see it. Or I guess I don’t see Him.”
“Not at all?”
Jayce opened his mouth to reply then closed it. Thought for a moment. Then glanced out the passenger window again. “Maybe a little.”
“Hey, a little is good. I’ll take a little.”
Jayce shook his head. “You have got to be one of the strangest ducks I’ve ever met. You and your family.”
Dan grinned. “Just wait’ll you meet my sisters.”
“Stranger than you?”
“Way stranger.”
With a chuckle, Jayce slid his sunglasses back in place. “Now that’d prove God was real.”
Dan laughed. “How’s that?”
The grin that lifted Jayce’s lips was pure mischief. “ ’Cause someone being stranger than you? That’d have to be a miracle.”
The battle was about to begin.
Dan leaned against his cruiser, which was parked in front of his office, arms crossed, watching Marlin as he sauntered down the sidewalk toward him. The kid walked like he owned the world. Sadly, too many treated him that way as well. Younger kids looked up to him as some kind of rebel hero. Older kids tried to emulate him, as if he were the epitome of cool. Adults? Well, a few ignored him. Others hurried to get out of his way when he walked by. And then there were folks like Aggie and Doris.
Just yesterday Dan had glanced out his office window to see the two old women perched in their rockers. They’d been talking, rocking away, when suddenly their chairs came to an abrupt halt. Dan stood, concerned there was a problem. He walked to the window and frowned when he spotted Marlin, his gang in tow, ambling toward the two ladies.
Grabbing his jacket, Dan was out the door, ready to protect them from Marlin and whatever verbal abuse he might choose to unleash. But he needn’t have bothered. Aggie and Doris stiffened in their rockers, backs ramrod straight, chins lifted a fraction, fixing Marlin with eagle-sharp glares.
He caught their stares, and for a heartbeat Dan thought the kid was going to say something smart. But Doris’s already stern features turned downright formidable. Marlin stopped, took a step back, and scooted past them with only a glower tossed over his shoulder.
Watching Sanctuary’s resident bad boy taken down a peg by those two did Dan’s heart some serious good. He joined the ladies on the boardwalk.
“You know, I pray for that boy every day.”
Dan tried not to let his surprise show at Doris’s comment. “You do?”
She nodded. “I figure anyone that angry has a whole lot of hurt inside.”
“Not only that, he’s got to have a lot of hurt.”
Dan and Doris looked at Aggie. Her eyes went wide. “What?”
“Yes, I pray for that boy. Almost—” Doris offered to Dan in a low aside—“as often as I pray for Agatha’s hearing.”
He laughed.
“What?” Aggie scooted her chair closer. “Speak up, Doris! I can’t hear the punch line to your jokes!”
“Agatha Hunter, you are the punch line.”
“Oh … phoo.” Aggie’s chair set to rocking. “Anyway, that Murphy boy, he needs our prayers. Lots of them.” She pinned Dan with a firm look. “You pray for him, don’t you, Sheriff?”
He’d long ago given up correcting these two when they called him that. “Well …”
“ ’Course he does, Aggie. Sheriff Dan’s a solid Christian. He knows the best thing to do is pray for your enemies.”
Dan chuckled. “I’ll tell you something, ladies; you put me to shame.”
“Oh?” Doris’s nose took on more wrinkles. “Why is that?”
“I’ve done a lot of things about Marlin Murphy. Checked into his background—”
“Ooh. That was terrible. The way his father treated him.”
“And killing himself that way. With a gun.” Aggie clucked her tongue. “Such a waste.”
“—but I confess, I’ve never prayed for the kid.”
Both women’s rockers halted at that. Then Aggie started her chair into a slow, easy motion. “Well, now … that is a bit of a surprise.”
“Your being a believer, and all.”
Dan smiled. He couldn’t help it. He hoped when he reached these ladies’ age, he would be as firm in his faith—and as willing to speak truth—as they were. “You know what I think?”
Aggie’s forgiveness for his lack was clear in the warm smile on her features. “What’s that, Sheriff?”
“I think God sent you two as my own personal angels. To remind me what I need to be doing. And I promise to pray for Marlin from now on.”
They giggled like a couple of schoolgirls. “Angels! Doris and me? Well, I mean, I can see why you’d think I was an angel …”
“Oh, plah, plah, plah, Aggie. Like real angels need hearing aids.”
And on they went, until Dan had to head back to his office before he burst out laughing. But as he walked across the street, he knew things had changed. He’d meant what he said. He would pray for Marlin.
But it was time to do something else as well. Something he’d been thinking about for a while.
It was time to talk with Marlin Murphy. Face-to-face.
So today he watched what had become the bane of his professional existence draw closer. Though only eighteen, Marlin was almost as tall as Dan. Combined with his considerable bulk, that made him an imposing figure. Marlin might be a hulk, but Dan knew the kinds of moves to bring hulks tumbling down.
He’d dealt with more than his fair share of kids like Marlin. The old adage Never let ’em see you sweat held true with them. You had to be as bold and in-your-face as they were. Not belligerent, just not a doormat.
As Marlin and his crew drew parallel with the cruiser, Dan pushed away from his leaning position and straightened to his full height. Times like this, he was grateful for his father’s genes. His dad had been six feet two. Dan topped him by a good two inches.
Dan knew the moment he came into Marlin’s line of sight. Alarm flashed across the kid’s features, then disappeared as the cool facade slipped into place. Marlin stopped—his gang stopping with him—arms crossed, and tilted his head to eye Dan.
“ ’Sup, Sheriff Taylor? Barney Fife get lost and you want us to find him for you?” The four boys with Marlin snickered.
Dan just smiled. “Aw, Marlin, I wouldn’t ask you to do that. I know you’ve got far more important things to do.”
Surprise flickered in Marlin’s eyes, and his responding smile was smug. “Yeah? Well, good. I like it when people recognize I’m important.” He cast a look of triumph at his gang, as though to say, “See? Even the deputy stays outta my way.”
Dan assumed a relaxed pose. “Sure. It’s hard work to find flunkies stupid enough to do your dirty work while you just sit around and reap all the benefits.”
The sudden hard set to Marlin’s features almost made Dan laugh. “Especially now that you’ve lost one of your main go- to guys.”
“Zat so?” Marlin’s voice had lost that lazy, confident drawl. Instead there was a definite edge to his words. “Care to elaborate?”
“Wow, Marlin. Elaborate. Big word for such a small man.” He didn’t give any indication he’d noted the way Marlin drew himself rigid at the insult. “But I think you know who I mean. Jayce Dalton. He has been somewhat absent from your following of late.”
Dan’s eyes drifted from one of Marlin’s crew to the next, noting how each of them dropped his gaze, staring at the ground. Like puppies pretending to be brave until an alpha male looked at them—then they piddled all over the floor and themselves showing how submissive they were.
“Ah, my man Jayce.” Marlin’s tone was as unpleasant as his smile. “
He’s been on a bit of a hiatus.” He paused. “Oh, sorry, Andy, didn’t mean to use big words again. ’Specially not when they’re clearly over your head.”
The kid was good. He really looked like he felt bad. “Your concern is touching, Marlin. But no worries. I’ve known hiatus since I was in grade school. But hey, I’m glad you’ve finally learned what it means. Nice to see you bettering yourself.”
Marlin’s gaze narrowed. “Yeah, well, then you’ll be thrilled to know my man Jayce is right back on the job. Not—” he smirked at his cronies—“that there’s any kind of real job going on. I just mean he’s as much a part of our little group as ever.”
Dan studied the boy’s face, and his heart sank. He could usually tell when someone was bluffing, and Marlin had the smug expression of someone who knew what he was saying was not only true, but that it was bad news for the listener.
And it was. Bad news.
Shannon would be brokenhearted if she knew Jayce was hanging with Marlin again. Dan had been so sure Jayce was out of Marlin’s gang. That he’d changed …
Let it go, Justice. Focus on the issue at hand.
He focused on Marlin and gritted his teeth. The malicious glitter in the kid’s eyes said he knew he’d struck home. That his words had nailed Dan, throwing him off.
Dan forced a nonchalant expression to his features, let a tiny smile tip his lips. “Marlin, Marlin.” He shook his head, not hiding the condescending tone in his voice. “Haven’t you learned by now? Things are seldom what they seem.” He shrugged. “Any good leader knows that.”
Two spots of red surged into Marlin’s cheeks. Score one for the good guys. “But hey, don’t let me burst your bubble, man.” Dan stepped aside. “And don’t let me hold you up. A big man like you must have lots of business to attend to.”
Glowering, Marlin started to pass Dan, but his hand shot out, catching the boy’s arm. He felt the muscles tense, but he didn’t let his gaze waver as Marlin spun toward him. Dan met the boy’s angry stare without flinching.
“Just one more word to the not-so-wise, Marlin. I know what you’re up to. And I’m watching you. You mess up—you’re mine.”
A muscle jumped in Marlin’s jaw, but he didn’t reply. He just stared at Dan a moment longer. Then he jerked his arm free, spun on his heel, and went on his way, his gang in his furious wake.
Dan watched them go, hands in his pockets. So, the lines were drawn. But it wouldn’t end here. In fact, if what he’d just seen in Marlin’s dark eyes was any indication, it was just starting.
Well, so be it. Dan wasn’t about to let Marlin ruin Sanctuary. Any more than he would let him run Jayce’s life. Jayce was just starting to see how good life could be, how full when someone really cared about him.
Speaking of which …
His first planned encounter for the day was done. Now, on to the second. Dan smiled.
With any luck, this one would be far more enjoyable.
EIGHTEEN
“Suddenly, I saw you there …”
GEORGE GERSHWIN
“You alone [O God] know the human heart.”
1 KINGS 8:39
SHELBY WILSON, DIRECTOR.
Shelby sat at her desk, staring down at the desk sign she held in her hands. She’d worked so hard to earn that title. Director. Woman in charge. She Who Must Be Obeyed.
And yet …
Looking at the title now, she felt nothing. Empty.
She set the sign back on her desk with a sharp bang. “Snap out of it, Shelby! You do important work here. Work that matters.”
So how come lately, no matter how many kids seemed to improve or find homes where they could be nurtured and grow, she didn’t feel anything?
Maybe because you’ve forgotten someone?
She had not! She’d given each case at Master’s Touch her personal attention. Why, she’d even found the right family for the most impossible kid of all.
She jerked open a desk drawer, pulling out a folder of photos, then plopped down in her chair and spread the pictures out on her desk. Shelby studied them, one by one—Shannon and Jayce holding up a huge fish, laughing so hard they looked about to drop the creature on the ground; Aaron and Jayce flexing their muscles over a pile of wood they’d chopped for the campfire; all three of the kids setting up tents, faces intent on the task at hand.
When Jayce Dalton showed up at Master’s Touch, he qualified as poster boy for the consequences of too little, too late. No one could get through to him. Not even Shelby. But a few months with the Justice clan and that belligerent, bleak bad boy was all but gone. In his place was a boy whose ready smile won people over before he spoke a word.
Shelby picked up a picture of the three kids standing near a canoe, arms draped across each other’s shoulders. Clearly, Jayce and the Justice family were devoted to each other.
Her eyes fell on another picture, and picking it up she sat back in her chair with a heavy sigh. Dan Justice smiled out at her, eyes crinkled at the edge of mirth, and she could almost hear his deep voice cutting loose with that rich laughter that seemed to come from his very core. She loved hearing him laugh.
You love hearing him, period.
She didn’t deny it. There was no reason for it. Heaven knew, the man hadn’t given her any encouragement. And yet, Dan had somehow worked his way into Shelby’s heart. Just the sight of him sent a surge of warmth through her. And when his eyes met hers … it was like coming home to a place she’d never known.
So comfortable, so peaceful—she never wanted to leave.
So maybe you’ve found the perfect family for the one you forgot, too.
Shelby gripped the picture, muttering under her breath, “Name one person I forgot! Go ahead. I dare you.”
Shelby Wilson.
“Oh!” The word sucked in on a startled breath. Shelby looked down at Dan’s picture and suddenly felt like weeping.
Yes, okay. She’d forgotten one person. Herself. All these years she’d been so focused on helping the kids, she figured she’d have time later for all the dreams she used to have. Silly things.
Like love, a husband, children?
Yes. Silly things like that.
But before she knew it, years had passed, and she was still alone. Sanctuary wasn’t exactly a wellspring of eligible men, either. Not men under sixty, anyway. And then, Dan Justice came to town.
Shelby fought the attraction she felt for him. After all, there were bound to be an abundance of women vying for his attention. And she refused to enter some ridiculous female competition to catch his eye.
So here she sat, mooning over his picture, while the man hardly seemed to know she was alive. Aside from when he dropped in to give her regular reports on how things were going with Jayce, she seldom saw him.
Oh, they smiled at each other every Sunday at church, but so what? That put her on par with the sweet white-haired ladies in the back pews. Dan smiled at them every Sunday, too.
She glared down at his picture. “How can such great eyes be so blind?”
She tossed the picture back on her desk, and it skittered across the surface, sliding off and fluttering to the floor.
Just in time to be stepped on by a size-thirteen shoe, as the object of her frustration materialized and entered her office.
Shelby jumped to her feet, a bundle of shock and alarm. “Dan!”
“Shelby!” Dan responded with playful force. “Okay, now we both know who we are.”
Glancing down, he lifted his foot. “Oops!” He bent over and plucked the photo from beneath his foot.
Don’t look at it. Please, don’t look at it …
Clearly, the man didn’t have an ounce of ESP in him. He looked at the photo, and his brows lifted. But he made no comment as he handed the picture back to Shelby. She considered that a definite mercy.
“I was just reviewing Jayce’s file—” she jabbered, gathering up the photos and stuffing them back into their folder—“you know, just as part of my job. I mean, that is my job. T
o keep track of the kids we work with. Keep the files updated.”
He just leaned in her doorway, watching her, lips tipped in a slight smile.
“Anyway, I’m updated now. Or, I mean, the file is. Updated. So.” She sank into her chair. Where had the dratted man come from anyway? And why on earth couldn’t he give a girl a little warning?
“So.”
Dan’s rich voice pulled her from her miserable thoughts. “So—” she drew a breath—“what brings you to my humble abode, Deputy?”
“Deputy?” Dan’s smile grew a fraction. “Now, Shelby, I thought we were past the formal stage.”
She was ready to reply, but the look on his face … well, she’d never seen him look at her like that before. His blue eyes were warm and soft as a caress. His smile held a gentle tenderness—and something more.
It was that something more that rendered her mute.
As though sensing her inability to form a coherent sentence, Dan continued. “Anyway, what brings me by is food. I wondered if you’d like to join me for some.”
Shelby’s lungs—and her rising hopes—deflated.
How silly of her to think this was anything more than her being a lunch buddy. “Sure.” She did her best to sound casual. “Lunch at Lou’s. Works for me.”
“Not for me.”
She paused in the act of pulling her purse from a bottom desk drawer. “You don’t want to eat at Lou’s?”
The warmth of his chuckle sent shivers down her spine. “I don’t want to eat lunch. I was thinking more of dinner. Bel Di’s in Shady Cove.”
She straightened. Bel Di’s was a wonderful restaurant well known for its luscious cuisine—and its romantic atmosphere. “Dinner. At Bel Di’s.”
“You and me.”
She blinked. “Together.”
“Unless you’d rather run alongside the car, of course.”
Her laughter joined his, easing the shocked tension that held her in its grip. “I’m sorry, Dan.” She shook her head, certain, if the heat scorching her checks was any indication, that she must be as red as the light on top of his cruiser. “You just took me by surprise.”