by Cindy Kirk
The siblings shared a smile.
She paused, perhaps waiting for him to mention the university. Maybe ask why she’d chucked it all when she was so close to graduating. Those were his father’s worries, not his. Dan cared only that Oaklee was safe, that she was here, with him.
He would never turn her away. “Are you hungry?”
A familiar sparkle danced in her baby blues. “I could eat.”
“Come inside. I’ll change and then take you to Muddy Boots for a late breakfast.” He pushed open the door and stepped aside to let her enter.
Surprise skittered across her face. “You didn’t lock up?”
Dan shrugged. “I went for a quick run. It didn’t seem necessary.”
“Dad wouldn’t approve.” She waggled a finger at him. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips even as she tried to mimic his father’s stern expression. “Someone could have opened the door and walked right in and stolen everything of value. You’d have only yourself to blame.”
“True,” Dan admitted. “But this way you could have walked in and made yourself at home.”
“You’re living on the edge, Pastor Marshall.”
Dan chuckled, finding reassurance in the sisterly teasing. “I’d make something for you here, but I’m low on everything.”
“It’s Mom and Dad who enjoy dining at home.” Oaklee wrinkled her nose. “Not me.”
“Speaking of Mom and Dad.” Dan slipped his phone from his jacket pocket and laid it carefully on the side table. “They’re worried about you.”
A shutter dropped, and the light left his sister’s eyes. “Mom, maybe. Dad, not so much.”
How to answer that honestly without being hurtful? Dan searched for the right words. “They love you, Oaklee. Both of them.”
A shrug was her only response.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d give Mom a quick call while I change. Let her know you’re okay and you’re with me.”
“For how long?” Oaklee asked.
Dan cocked his head.
“How long can I stay?”
He met her questioning gaze with a firm one of his own. “As long as you want.”
“You kissed the minister?”
Too late, Katie Ruth realized she should have stuck to the reason for the lunch—discussing possible youth program changes at First Christian. Valentine’s Day should have stayed off the table.
“Would you please stop referring to Dan as ‘the minister’?” Izzie’s insistence on all the deets, once Katie Ruth had mentioned the party, had caused Katie Ruth to say more than she planned. “And no one kissed anyone. I simply said for one brief crazy second on the porch, I thought about kissing him.”
And, Katie Ruth admitted, he might have wanted to kiss her.
Izzie impatiently pushed back the corkscrew piece of hair that had come loose and now hung in her face. The rest of her unruly mass of brown curls had been pulled back and secured with a leather tie. “Thinking about doing something isn’t nearly as exciting as doing it.”
Katie Ruth only shrugged.
The hand the local artist held up had long, artistic fingers with nails cut short. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. You and Dan have this physical attraction thing going, but you haven’t acted on it.”
Hearing that didn’t sit right either. “The attraction may have been only on my part. I probably got caught up in the romance of the evening. Yes, I’m sure that’s what happened. I misread the signals.”
Izzie rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that’s what happened.”
“Seriously. The full moon. The citrusy scent of his cologne. I imagined the chemistry.” Katie Ruth pushed the breakfast burrito aside, remembering how her insides had quivered when she’d stood beside him on her porch.
“He wants you.” When Katie Ruth began shaking her head, Izzie gestured with one hand. “Look at you. What man wouldn’t be interested?”
“Dexter, for one.” Katie Ruth gazed down at her plate once again, but still couldn’t summon an appetite. “He found a game of poker more appealing than me.”
“Some men are stupid.” Izzie’s tone brooked no argument. “And blind.”
Katie Ruth let her gaze drift to the mural of a girl in a raincoat kicking up rain. Izzie had painted the scene shortly after she’d arrived in town several years back.
“You and the minister are a perfect match.” Izzie’s tone turned contemplative as she continued, swirling a fry through a mound of ketchup. “Which is why I think you messed up.”
“Pardon me?”
“You shouldn’t have waited for him to make the first move. If you wanted to kiss him, you should have done it.”
“What? No.”
“Think about it. If you had, you wouldn’t be sitting here wondering if he likes you.” Izzie lifted the ketchup-soaked fry and grinned. “You’d know.”
After Oaklee finished calling their mother, Dan suggested they walk to the café, rather than drive. It wasn’t far, and he hoped the exercise would burn off some of Oaklee’s tension.
They started down the sidewalk, and he braced for the chatter that was sure to come. When Oaklee remained silent—a first for her—Dan picked up the conversation reins. “Mom said she hadn’t heard from you. Why hadn’t you called her?”
Oaklee knew as well as he did that their mother was the worrier in the family.
“I stepped on my phone last week.” Oaklee lifted her shoulders, let them drop. “It’s dead. Gone to heaven and not coming back.”
Dan smiled. “I’m glad you could reassure her that you’re okay.”
“Yeah, she seemed glad to hear from me.” Oaklee’s voice held puzzlement.
“Why does that surprise you? You know she worries about you.”
“She’s been different since the protest last fall.”
Dan hadn’t made it home for either Thanksgiving or Christmas this year, but he’d spoken with his parents numerous times. Neither his mom nor his dad had mentioned Oaklee and a recent protest. “What happened?”
“The event was in the Shedd Aquarium parking lot.”
“That location practically guaranteed prime news coverage.” Dan hated to ask, but he had to know. “Were you naked?”
It had been Oaklee’s part in a PETA wool protest two years earlier that his parents couldn’t seem to forget, or forgive.
“Not this time. I had on this beautiful green mermaid suit.” Oaklee smiled. “I was hung several feet off the ground with hooks through my mermaid skin.”
What did it say that he could easily picture the scene? “What were you protesting?”
Oaklee was actively involved with a number of organizations, all good causes in Dan’s opinion, although the actions of a few of the groups could be a bit extreme.
“It was a PETA event. We were urging the public not to eat aquatic animals.” Oaklee appeared truly perplexed. “I still don’t understand why Mom got so bent out of shape.”
It was puzzling to Dan as well. “They never mentioned anything about it to me.”
Oaklee sighed. “It was the topic du jour over the holiday.”
“The only thing Dad mentioned was something about you having problems with a professor.”
Oaklee’s expression went blank. For a young woman so expressive, it was a red flag.
“I’m not going back to college,” Oaklee finally responded when the silence stretched. “I won’t have to deal with him again. Problem solved.”
Dan frowned. “Was getting away from him the reason you quit school?”
Oaklee waved an airy hand, the rings that bedecked every finger catching the light. “I decided not to return for many reasons. Oh, look, we’re here. You were right. It wasn’t far.” Relief flashed across Oaklee’s face at the sight of the crisp blue awning with the trademark red boots.
“Beck had the inside of Muddy Boots totally updated a couple years ago,” Dan informed his sister as he reached around her to open the door to the café.
The second Dan stepped inside, he s
aw Katie Ruth. Seated in a booth with Izzie Deshler, she looked up as the bells over the door jingled.
Dan smiled and lifted a hand in greeting.
Katie Ruth offered a return smile before refocusing on the woman across from her.
When Dan turned back to his sister, he caught her curious stare.
“Who’s she?”
Dan waited until they were seated at a table to answer. “Two women from church. The one with the curly hair is Izzie Deshler. She’s a local artist. In fact, she’s the one who painted the mural.”
Dan gestured toward the wall where a girl holding an umbrella kicked up water.
“She’s talented.”
Oaklee nodded, appeared impressed. “And the blonde?”
“Katie Ruth Crewes. Katie Ruth is my volunteer youth director at First Christian.”
Dan was spared the need to say more when Helen, an older woman with hair as orange as her lipstick, shuffled over. She passed out menus and took their drink orders.
For the next few minutes, Dan kept his eyes on the menu and off Katie Ruth. When Helen returned, they ordered.
Helen paused, her pencil poised above the notepad, and studied Oaklee. “Let me make sure I’ve got this. You want whipped cream with your fries?”
Oaklee nodded and flashed the woman a sunny smile. “Is that a problem?”
“No problem.” Helen scribbled, then shoved the nub of a pencil behind her ear. “Shouldn’t take long.”
“This is an interesting place.” Oaklee cast an admiring glance at a nearby wall. “I’m guessing these splashes of blue paint on the white walls are rain.”
“That was the intent, I believe.” Dan took a sip of coffee, conscious of Oaklee’s assessing gaze.
“You’re happy here.” His sister smiled softly.
“I am,” Dan agreed. “For now, anyway.”
Oaklee shook her head. “Dad has gotten to you, hasn’t he? I can hear him now. ‘Daniel, you are not living up to your potential.’”
He had to admit she did a darned good imitation of their father’s imperious tone.
“Dad feels that now that I have several years of experience, I need to be actively seeking a transfer to a larger congregation. One that would allow me to soar with my strengths.”
“Is that what you want?”
“There’s nothing keeping me in Good Hope.” Dan resisted the sudden urge to glance in Katie Ruth’s direction.
He might have dismissed his father’s advice if it didn’t make so much sense.
Oaklee lifted the plastic glass and gulped soda, her gaze never leaving his face.
The intensity in her gaze made Dan want to squirm.
“You almost had a wife. I never even got a chance to meet her.” The accusation in her tone stung because it was justified.
Even as the wedding had drawn close, Dan hadn’t taken Lindsay home to Illinois. He’d also made excuses why it wasn’t a good time for his family to visit. He wondered if he’d kept them apart because he’d had doubts about Lindsay and their upcoming nuptials.
He realized now just how much his actions had hurt his sister and his parents.
“I’m sure Lindsay and her husband will be at the pancake supper at church tonight.” Dan gestured with his coffee cup. “You can meet her then.”
Oaklee partially removed the wrapper from her straw. “I’d love to meet the Jezebel who captured my brother’s heart then broke it.”
It hadn’t been like that, Dan wanted to say, but swallowed the words. He liked Lindsay, respected her, but she hadn’t totally captured his heart. And in the week after the breakup, he’d realized what he felt was more relief than heartbreak.
Without warning, Oaklee blew on the straw and shot the paper across the table.
Dan jerked back when it struck him in the cheek.
His sister laughed like a loon.
He crushed the paper between his fingers, picturing Oaklee’s reaction when she caught sight of Lindsay. If he didn’t prepare Oaklee, his sister might do—or say—something to embarrass everyone.
Dan waited while Helen set down their food and moved away.
“You know Lindsay is married.” Dan kept his tone easy. “You should also know she’s pregnant. She and her husband are expecting a baby girl at the end of next month.”
“A baby?” Oaklee cocked her head, obviously intrigued. “Is it yours?”
“No.”
“How can you be sure?”
For a second, Dan wondered what universe he was in that over burgers and fries and, yes, whipped cream, he was discussing his sex life—or lack therein—at a café table with his sister. “Lindsay and I were never…intimate.”
“Get out of here.” Oaklee gave a belly laugh so loud it drew the attention of a couple at a nearby table.
“Oaklee.” Dan spoke sharply and realized in that moment he sounded like his father.
His sister lowered her voice and appeared contrite. “Well, I suppose the no-sex thing worked out. Though I wonder how much you really liked her if you could date her all that time and not do the deed.”
For one crazy second, Dan thought about asking his sister if she’d ever “done the deed.” He decided he didn’t want to know. He couldn’t change Oaklee’s past choices, but he hoped to influence future ones.
“I’m a minister,” Dan reminded his sister. “I preach abstinence before marriage.”
“Rock and a hard place. I guess—” Oaklee stopped midsentence. “Hey, they’re leaving. Oops, not so quickly.”
Dan slanted a quick glance and saw Katie Ruth and Izzie at the register, speaking with Beck.
Dressed in a formfitting black sweater and a pair of psychedelic paisley pants, Izzie fit the artist’s look to a t.
Katie Ruth’s long-sleeved shirt that zipped up the front, coupled with leggings and running shoes, had him wondering where she was headed.
Dan frowned when Dexter and his parents passed by on their way to a table. Instead of continuing on with his mom and dad, Dexter motioned them forward and paused by Katie Ruth.
Whatever the man said to her had her taking a few steps to the side to speak with him. They spoke for less than a minute—with him doing most of the talking—before he joined his parents.
What had Dexter said to her? Dan narrowed his gaze. Katie Ruth didn’t appear upset as she returned to Izzie and Beck.
She laughed at something Beck said, and though her lips held no cherry gloss, Dan found his gaze drawn to her mouth.
“Your youth director is smokin’ hot and stylin’ in those skin pants.”
Dan jerked his gaze back to his sister.
Oaklee’s smile turned sly, and a blind man couldn’t have missed the speculative gleam. “If she’d been your fiancée, I bet you wouldn’t have been able to keep your hands off her.”
“Oaklee.” He growled the warning.
She smirked.
“Our lives are filled with temptation. It’s not a sin to be tempted,” Dan explained. “The sin is to yield to temptation.”
“Spoken like a minister.” Oaklee rolled her eyes. “You like her. You should ask her out.”
“Katie Ruth is a wonderful woman.” Dan absently picked up a fry and dipped it into the bowl of whipped cream. “She’s very active in the church.”
To his surprise, Oaklee’s expression turned serious. “You’re concerned you might mess up that church relationship if you date her.”
“I am.”
“It’s a valid concern.” Oaklee swiped a fry through the whipped cream. “I still think you should do it.” His sister laughed at her own joke. “Date her, I mean. Not have sex with her. Unless, of course—”
“It wouldn’t be a smart move.”
“Katie Ruth may be a fixture at the church, but you’re not her boss. And she’s not yours.” Oaklee leaned forward, looking more like a grown-up than a child. “You’re both adults with free will. Playing it safe is boring. Ask her out. See where it goes. Besides—”
O
aklee took a noisy sip of soda through the straw.
“Besides…” he prompted.
“You’ve already gone through one messy public breakup.” Oaklee smiled. “No way could this be worse.”
Chapter Five
While Katie Ruth worked out at the Y, she went back and forth on whether to attend the pancake supper at the church that evening. She was still wavering when she ran into Gladys. The older woman strolled inside while Katie Ruth was on her way out.
“I didn’t expect to see you here.” Though there were plenty of programs for seniors at the Y, Katie Ruth knew Gladys usually preferred classes at the Living Center’s fitness center.
“Several of us community theater veterans are starting a theater arts for kids program.” Gladys patted a bulging canvas bag the color of a ripe eggplant. “Stage Makeup 101 starts this afternoon.”
“The class sounds interesting. What ages are you targeting?”
“Anywhere from—” From somewhere deep in Gladys’s purse came a tone that Katie Ruth recognized as the Iron Man theme.
Katie Ruth lifted a brow.
Gladys chuckled. “My warning ring. Fifteen minutes to show time.”
Katie Ruth stepped to the side as a group of giggling teens hurried past. “Well, I won’t keep you. Good luck with the class.”
“Thank you.” Gladys waved her free hand. “I’ll tell you all about it tonight.”
Katie Ruth’s confusion must have shown, because Gladys added, “The pancake feed?”
“Oh, I wasn’t planning to go.” Something in Gladys’s piercing gaze had Katie Ruth stumbling to explain. “It’s been one of those crazy days. I was up late last night, and I’ve been going nonstop since early this morning.”
When Gladys remained silent, Katie Ruth emitted a nervous-sounding laugh. “I still need to do some editing on the Open Door newsletter before it goes out tomorrow morning.”
Gladys’s gaze narrowed. “You’re not going to the pancake supper?”
Katie Ruth blinked. Wasn’t that what she’d just said? “There will be so many people there, I doubt anyone will miss me.”
“Social events that promote fellowship are more enjoyable with close friends.” Gladys placed a gentle hand on Katie Ruth’s arm. “Dan will miss you if you don’t come.”