by Lisa Jordan
Would the new owners take down the tire swing that still hung from the sturdy oak in the backyard? Would they replace the board in front of her bedroom that squeaked every time someone paused in front of her door? Would they dig in the flower bed and find the box she buried with Melissa when they were ten—the one that contained their hopes and dreams?
She wrapped one arm around her mother and hugged her. “You deserve to be happy, Mom. Max seems like the right guy for you. I’m going to step outside for some air and give you two some privacy.”
She brushed past the same moment Mom redistributed her weight on her crutches. Lindsey’s foot accidentally kicked the rubber cap on the end of Mom’s crutch, sending it backward.
Mom cried out as she fell forward. Her crutch clattered to the floor.
Dropping the quilt, Lindsey grabbed on to her mother’s arms to keep her from falling. Her shoulder slammed against the doorjamb, sending a wave of pain down her arm.
They piled near the basement door. If Lindsey hadn’t closed it, they could have rolled down the steps. She stared at the ceiling as bright spots danced in front of her eyes. She tried to sit up. “Mom, I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
Max rushed in from the living room. “Gracie, what happened? Are you okay?”
“It was an accident, Max. Nothing to worry about. We tripped. That’s all.” Mom rolled off Lindsey. A grimace of pain sliced across her face.
As he helped her mother to her feet, Max held out a hand to Lindsey. “Are you hurt?”
She glanced at his hand a minute and then searched his face for a thread of condemnation. Instead, compassion filled his eyes as concern knitted his brows. “I’m fine. Make sure Mom is okay.”
“I will. I promise.”
Max led her mother into the living room, leaving Lindsey feeling ashamed at her self-centeredness. Max would take great care of her mother. And Mom deserved every ounce of happiness he could give her.
Rubbing her shoulder, she peeked into the living room. “Mom, are you okay? I feel terrible. I’m so sorry.”
Mom waved away her apology. “Honey, I’m fine. It was an accident.”
“Well, I’m going to get some air, to give you two some time alone.” She headed for the front door, shoved her feet in her shoes, grabbed her jacket and closed the front door quietly behind her.
Fumbling for her keys in her pocket, she hurried through the darkness to her car.
For the next hour, she drove around Shelby Lake, kicking herself again for acting so stupid over that quilt. Of course it needed to be washed. Otherwise the tea stain would ruin the fabric.
What was up with that childish meltdown?
Her mother seemed happy with Max. Who was she to stand in the way of that?
Her headlights fanned across Stephen’s garage as she pulled in his driveway. The motion light above the wide door flashed and illuminated the front of her convertible.
Why was she here?
Realizing she was playing with fire, Lindsey slid out from behind the wheel and closed the car door quietly.
She brushed a hand across her face, breathed deeply and knocked quietly on the front door.
The outside light flicked on. The door opened.
Stephen stood on the threshold wearing a black T-shirt and faded jeans. Barefoot. “Lindsey?”
The way he whispered her name—a touch of curiosity mixed with a hint of surprise—showered over her, melting the barrier around her emotions. Her chest heaved as she struggled to compose herself. “Hey.”
Stephen glanced behind him and then stepped onto the porch. He closed the door behind him. “What’s up, Linds? Everything okay?”
She shook her head, biting her bottom lip. Tears pooled in her eyes. One slid down her cheek. “I need to let her move on, right?”
Stephen thumbed away the tear and then folded her against his chest. She relished the warmth, the strength of his arms that wrapped around her. “Why don’t you come inside?”
“I’m sorry. It’s late. Ty’s in bed. I shouldn’t have come. It’s just—”
He kissed the top of her head. “Don’t apologize. Come in.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her inside.
She stood in the entryway, shivering. She left her jacket in the car. Along with her purse. And her common sense. What was she doing here?
“Have a seat.” He placed a hand at the small of her back and guided her to the living room.
She settled on the corner of the couch and drew her knees to her chest. Stephen wrapped an afghan around her shoulders and left the room.
He had started a fire, warming the room. The golden flames danced across the wood. A log split, sending a shower of sparks up the chimney. The snap and crackle was the only sound in the room.
She shrugged off the afghan to stand in front of the fire.
Stephen returned a couple of minutes later and handed her a mug. “Here. This will warm you.”
“Thanks.” She took it, smelling tea. She sipped it, wrapping hands around the thick ceramic mug.
He stoked the fire, returned the poker to its iron holder and faced her, shoving his fingers in his front pockets. “What happened?”
She set her mug on the mantel and crossed her arms over her chest. “Max proposed to Mom. She said yes. She’s selling the house. Time to move on. She has every right, but it all just seems so sudden.”
Stephen guided her to the couch where he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her against his chest. The soft cotton of his T-shirt hugged her cheek.
Lindsey told him about the quilt and the fall.
“Just because your mom has Max now doesn’t mean she’s replacing you or your dad. He will always have a place in her heart, but she needs to move on with her life.”
“I want her to be happy. I do.”
“But?”
“I’m being selfish. Everyone’s getting what they want but me.”
“Do you really believe that? What do you want, Linds?”
“I want to turn back time. I want my dad back. If I knew that was the last hug I was going to give him, I would have clung tighter. I want my heart to stop being used for a punching bag. I want Mom to keep the house. It holds so many memories.”
“Don’t you think your mom deserves a fresh start?”
“Like I said, I’m being selfish, but it was such a shock, you know? I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose a spouse. I can’t imagine what my mother has gone through these past five years. Or you.”
“Each of us handles grief in our own way. This hasn’t been an easy year for me, but with God’s help, I’ve been making it through the tough times. Tyler and I take it one day at a time. Some days are better than others, I will admit, but we are adjusting slowly.”
“Your family is very generous and supportive, too.”
“I don’t know what I would do without Mom and Dad and Nate and Melissa. They’re always willing to lend a hand. Sometimes I feel like I take up too much of their time.” He shifted, removing his arm from around Lindsey. She missed the warmth.
He turned sideways and faced her, laying his hands over hers and intertwining their fingers. Her heart raced. Stephen touched his forehead to hers. “I’ve been thinking about our talk the other day. While I was married to Bethany, I had no intention of seeking you out. I took a vow and closed the door to that part of my life. But now, with you back here, I can’t help but wonder if God has other ideas. I’m thankful for His mercy. And second chances. Five years hasn’t changed how I feel. I still love you, Lindsey.”
For years, she had longed to hear those words. But now, as much as she wanted to say them in return, she couldn’t. Too much had happened between them. She couldn’t risk her heart to have him reject her again. She didn’t know if she could recover a second time.
Lindsey pulled her hands out of his and slid across the couch cushion away from him. “Stephen, don’t do this, please.”
He stood and rubbed the back of his neck. “Do what?”
&nb
sp; “You know what.” She grabbed one of the couch pillows and hugged it to her chest.
“Tell me you don’t feel anything between us and I’ll leave you alone. Tell me this spark is all in my imagination.”
She looked up at him. “It’s your imagination.”
“Liar.”
Lindsey pulled her gaze away from his insightful eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“If you didn’t feel anything, why did you come back here tonight?”
“I needed a friend.”
“You could have gone to Melissa’s if you wanted a friend. But you came to me. Because you felt the same thing I did. So what are you going to do now? Leave Shelby Lake and pretend this doesn’t exist between us?”
“I need to go back Maple Valley. I have a business to run.”
“What if you don’t go back? What if Tyler and I need you?”
He was right, but she was too much of a coward to take a chance. The place she ended up going for comfort was the one place she should have been trying to escape—Stephen’s arms.
He needed his head examined. If she wanted to go, he needed to let her. He was crazy to think that maybe, just maybe they had something going.
Stephen pushed the screwdriver too hard. The bit slipped off the end of the screw head, gouging the wood. He slammed the tool on his workbench and gripped the edge of the table.
When he asked her last night to consider staying, she didn’t answer. No “I’ll think about it.” Not even a “Maybe.” She left. So much for putting his feelings out there. He tossed and turned all night, mentally kicking himself for rushing things. Maybe he should have given her more time.
He was a joke. Why would she want him anyway? He broke her heart once. She probably expected him to do it again. And now he had a kid—a kid with the woman he married after breaking Lindsey’s heart. Yeah, he was a real prize. No wonder she left.
He stomped over to the stack of wood piled against the back wall of the garage. He needed a clean sheet of plywood to cut for the top of the toy box.
“Knock knock.”
He jerked and smacked his head on the shelf above the wood. Biting back a word not fit for human ears, he straightened and brushed the wood dust from his jeans.
Lindsey stood in the open doorway. Midmorning sunshine haloed her hair, making it glisten like liquid gold. “I knocked on the front door, but no one answered. Then I saw this one open. Can I come in?”
Stephen shrugged, eyeing her black pants, white blouse and red leather jacket. “Watch where you lean. It’s dusty.”
“Dad’s workshop used to be the same way.” She wandered over to his workbench. She drew her finger through a small pile of sawdust. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”
“No.” Stephen grabbed a dust broom and swept the sawdust off the table into the dustpan.
She folded her hands on the table. “You look busy.”
“Not really.” He uncapped his half-empty Mountain Dew and took a swig, avoiding her eyes.
“Are you okay?”
What was she doing here? He braced his hands on his hips, finally looking at her. “I’m fine.”
“What are you making?”
“A toy box.”
Lindsey ran her hand down the side of the box. “You do nice work, Stephen.”
“Your dad taught me everything I know. He deserves all the credit.”
“People can teach, but it’s up to the student to apply the lessons. That cradle…wow, it was one of the most beautiful pieces of furniture I’ve seen.” Her smile set his heart on fire.
He shrugged. “Mel seemed to like it.”
“You have a gift. Why are you shrugging it off?”
“Maybe because I know the truth.” He wanted her to get to the point of her visit and then leave him alone to wallow in his misery.
“Maybe what you’re seeing isn’t truth.”
Stephen turned his back to search through the stack of already-cut sheets.
“What are you looking for?”
“A piece of plywood.”
“Isn’t that plywood there? Next to your rolling tool chest?”
“Yes, but those pieces have knotholes or wormholes. I need something without flaws.” He found a piece small enough for the top of the toy box and carried it to the workbench.
“Flaws add character to the wood, giving it depth, a history.” Lindsey folded her arms over her chest and leaned against his worktable.
“Without those knotholes, the wood may have been used for a different purpose. Something bigger and better. Some people focus only on the flaws.” He measured the wood to ensure he had the correct size.
“Then they’re not seeing the whole picture.”
He shrugged. “People see what they want to see.”
“Even with a knot, Melissa’s focus will be on the overall beauty—the gift as it was intended.”
“Well, aren’t you the wise one this morning? My sister deserves more than a flawed gift.”
“Are we still discussing wood?”
“Lindsey, why are you here?” Stephen palmed the table and glared at her.
“I wanted to thank you for being so nice last night.” She stared at her hands and ran her thumb over her polished nails.
“You said thanks last night.” Inside, he winced at the jerky tone of his voice. Was he trying to run her off?
Her expression crumbled as she pushed away from the table and dusted off her clothes. “Okay, then. I’d better go.”
He circled the bench and hooked his hand around her elbow. “Lindsey. Wait. I’m sorry. I’ve been acting like a jerk.”
“Why?”
He raked a hand through his hair, scattering sawdust. Should he tell her the truth? Why not? He’d already laid his heart on the line last night. “If I stay mad at you, maybe your leaving won’t rip a crater in my heart.”
“Stephen, I can’t stay. You know that. Too many memories. There’s too much hurt between us. Besides, I have the inn.” She tugged on the cuffs of her leather jacket.
“You could always open an inn in Shelby Lake. With the amount of tourists that come through here, you’d be packed.”
Lindsey held up a hand. “Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be, please.”
“The annual Shelby Lake Police Officers’ Gala is coming up this weekend. Go with me.” The words rushed out of his mouth before his brain could stop him. Was he crazy? She wouldn’t want to hang out with people who reminded her of her dad. No way.
“I don’t know. It’s hard, you know. Being around all those people who will want to talk about Dad.”
“Your dad was a great guy, Linds. You should want to talk about him. Keep his memory alive.”
“It hurts.”
“Yeah, it does. Slowly, over time, the pain becomes less and less. You don’t want to hide your memories in a box for fear of feeling pain.”
“One condition.”
“Name it.”
“We go as friends. No pressure for anything more.”
Chapter Thirteen
Was this how Daniel felt facing the lions? Too bad Lindsey didn’t have Daniel’s courage. Bells jangled against the glass as she opened the door to Cuppa Josie’s and stepped inside. Pushing her sunglasses up on her head, she took a couple of seconds for her eyes to adjust to the low lighting before scanning the room for Mom and Max.
They sat across from each other at a square table tucked in the corner of the room. Max toyed with a spoon while Mom opened and closed the clasp on her watch. Neither spoke.
When Mom told her over breakfast this morning that she had called off the wedding and wasn’t selling the house, Lindsey didn’t believe her. Not at first. But when her tears punctuated the news, Lindsey knew she had to do something to fix the mess she created.
She should have been happy. After all, wasn’t that what she wanted? The family home safe and secure. Her mom all to herself. Then why couldn’t she stop thinking about the trail of tears down Mom’s f
ace? And that horrible feeling knowing she was the reason for her mother’s change of heart.
Time to grow up, Linds.
After leaving Stephen’s, she’d called Max, asking him to pick up Mom and meet her at Cuppa Josie’s. Max’s cool tone let Lindsey know just how thrilled he was with the idea, but he agreed.
She crossed the room to their table, set her purse on one of the empty chairs and dropped her tote bag on the floor. “Thanks for meeting me. I’m going to order some tea. Mom, want some? Max, can I get you anything?”
They shook their heads and didn’t say anything.
Okay, then. Maybe tea wasn’t a great idea right now. She had a lot of work to do to fix the mess she made the other night. Pulling out a chair, she sat, opened her purse and fanned the brochures on the table.
Her mother folded her hands on the table and nodded at the brochures. “What are those?”
Lindsey pasted a smile on her face and picked up a brochure with a smiling family standing in front of a house on the glossy cover. Would she ever have that? “Your future, beginning with information from Seaver Realty. You have an appointment at four to talk with them about putting the house on the market.” She pushed it across the table to Mom.
Mom touched her hand. “Honey, you don’t have to do this.”
“Yes, Mom, I do. I stopped by the bakery and left a deposit, telling Marie-Anne to send me the rest of the bill. All you two have to do is pick out the cake of your choice. I stopped by the florist and put down a deposit.” She reached into her tote bag and pulled out a couple of bridal magazines. “Now, I wasn’t sure if you wanted a gown from the bridal shop, or if you’d prefer Aunt Claire to make it. Regardless, I picked up these magazines. I figured we could have a girls’ night soon and go through them for ideas.”
Reaching into the tote bag, Lindsey pulled out the wedding ring quilt, her fingers digging into the material. She sighed and held it out to her mother. “Grandma washed the quilt. She was able to remove the tea stain. I’m so sorry about the way I acted last night. Peace offering?”