Mended Hearts

by Ruth Logan Herne

  “Because men like you always have a purpose.”

  “Since when did that become a bad thing?”

  “Not bad, predictable. What was this purpose that dragged you out of your office and brought you here in person when you have a perfectly good phone at your disposal?”

  He maintained a strong, sincere expression. “To thank you for the notes. They’re perfect and I realized from the time stamp that you stayed up late to finish them. And now I know that it was after you got soaked to the skin.”

  “No problem.”

  “I’m grateful, Hannah.” He reached out as the door swung open and laid a gentle hand on her left shoulder. The feel of her sun-kissed skin was warm and smooth, a summer touch in the grip of fall.

  Her look said she wasn’t immune to the buzz and that almost made him take that last step forward, but they both knew that wasn’t a good idea. The look she gave him, yearning mixed with caution, made him go slow, which was for the best, right?

  A car pulled in behind his. A woman tooted the horn in welcome, and a young boy waved from the front seat, his face a blend of excitement and eagerness.

  Hannah smiled, the anxiety erased, wiped out by the smile of a child. A part of Jeff’s heart melted on the spot. He released her arm, stepped back and nodded toward the car. “One of your young suitors?”

  Her grin delighted him. “This is Jacob. We’re working together on some really cool projects and he had a half day of school today so we’re meeting earlier than usual.”

  One of her tutoring duties, Jeff realized. The boy dashed up the steps, ignored Jeff completely and launched a hug at Hannah. “I got them all right except the one about the gasoline.”

  She laughed and squatted to his level. “I saw that. Two hundreds and a ninety average out to ninety-six.” She watched as he absorbed what she was saying. When he nodded agreement, she ruffled his hair. “That’s an A, kid. Pretty solid.”

  “An A.” He turned and sent his mother a smile that she matched. “I got an A, Mom.”

  “I’m so proud of you, Jake.” She stooped, planted a kiss to his hair, then shooed him inside before facing Hannah. “He has never been this excited about learning. Not ever. His teachers are ecstatic and his grades are wonderful. I can’t begin to thank you enough, Hannah.”

  Hannah’s smile said she expected no thanks. “That A says it all. Head on in, Callie. I’ll be right there.”

  “All right.” The mother smiled and nodded to Jeff, then stuck out her hand. “I’m Callie Burdick and that whirlwind was my son Jake.”

  Jeff shook her hand, nodded appreciation toward the boy and grinned. “Jeff Brennan. Hannah and I are cochairing the library fundraising for this branch. He’s an excited whirlwind, for sure. I was just thinking that if my third grade teacher looked like Hannah, I might have paid more attention myself.”

  Callie laughed.

  Hannah blushed, then scowled. “Don’t you have a job to get to?”

  “I do.”

  “Then might I suggest—”

  “I’m gone.” He switched his attention to the other woman. “A pleasure, Callie.”

  Callie nodded and swept them a look. “May I help? On the project, that is?”

  “Of course.” Hannah grinned, surprised but pleased. “We’d love it, Cal. Do you have time?”

  “More than I’d like right now, and working on this would be a good distraction,” the other woman admitted. “With Dad’s construction business taken over by the bank, there’s literally nothing to do right now except pray the economy improves and Dad can get back on his feet. Since I crewed for him and worked in his office, we’re taking a double hit. Waitressing doesn’t come close to covering the bottom line, so a well-intentioned distraction would be heaven-sent.”

  “We’d love your help.” Jeff made a mental note to see if he could track down her father’s business based on her name. The nice thing about small communities was the way they looked out for each other whenever possible. He turned back toward Hannah. “Can I call you later?”

  “I’m swamped.”

  Callie flashed them an understanding smile before she headed inside. Jeff understood swamped. “Aren’t we all?”

  “I’m here until four, then at the candy store until eight,” Hannah explained. “And I have every reason to expect to be tired by then.”

  Remembering the time on her emailed notes, he nodded. “All right. Tomorrow?”

  “No can do. I’ve got library hours in the morning, then I’m overseeing the mock-up of a weekend camper science project at Dunnymeade’s Campgrounds.”

  “You work there, too?”

  She glanced inside, her look saying she didn’t want to keep Jacob and his mother waiting. “They needed someone to help lay out their minicamp so I volunteered.”

  “You like science?”

  Her expression told Jeff he was on shaky ground. “Yes.”

  He nodded as if he hadn’t noticed. “Me, too. Hence the degree. Maybe we can experiment sometime? Together?” He grinned, lightening the moment, enjoying the bemused smile she shot him.

  “My experimental days are over.”

  “We’ll have to see about that.” He smiled, winked and headed for his car while he scolded himself silently for more reasons than he could count. “I’ll catch up with you soon.”

  “We have a meeting scheduled next week.” Hannah tapped a nonexistent watch. “Soon enough.”

  Jeff laughed at her from across the gravel. “Should we make it a contest? See who caves first?”

  “I never lose, Mr. Brennan.”

  “Neither do I, Miss Moore.” He grinned, opened his door and met her gaze. “You’re on. The first one to call or contact the other for reasons other than the library fund project buys dinner.”

  “You’d make me pay for dinner? On my salary?”

  “To make a point, yes. We’ll consider it valuable education.”

  “Since it won’t happen we’ll consider it moot. Goodbye.”

  She went into the library without a backward glance, at least not one he could see. But it wouldn’t surprise him if she tipped a blind, watching him. Grinning.

  And yeah, he knew there wasn’t time to pursue this. Not now. But if not now, then when? When will you let yourself embrace life?

  Reverend Hannity had done a series of sermons making that very point this fall. Thoughtful and thought provoking, his gentle words had tweaked Jeff’s conscience. The work demands that used to nibble his free time now consumed it.

  Was his dedication to work extreme?

  The fact that he didn’t want to answer that question said plenty. Sure, he’d grown up in the shadow of his father’s misdeeds, and their physical resemblance was so strong that Jeff felt required to establish degrees of separation. He accomplished that by being honest, faithful and self-reliant, qualities his father could have embraced.

  But chose not to.

  Hannah was right. He should squelch this attraction and cite bad timing as the reason. He needed to cover for Trent while putting the company’s best foot forward on current bids.

  Plus, the girl wasn’t interested. Correct that, she was interested, but didn’t want to be and Jeff sensed that reluctance. He didn’t need distractions or aggravations. Neither did she. And since they’d thrown down a challenge to see who’d cave first, maybe it was for the best if neither caved.

  It wouldn’t be easy to let things slide. And the thought of her walking home, even though it was only several blocks away…the image of her alone, on the streets, in the rain, the dark of night…

  That brought out his protective instincts. But she’d made it this far without his help, his protection. The fact that he wanted, no, longed to help and protect needled him.

  But he’d let it go. They both would. He knew she wouldn’t call. If self-preservation was a lock, Hannah Moore turned the key long ago.

  Sometimes God offered a distinct picture of right and wrong, and sometimes He let you figure it out for your
self. This time, Jeff was pretty sure of the message he’d been getting from Hannah.

  Put it on hold, as much as it scorched his take-charge mind-set.

  And with work tugging him in different directions, it might not scorch as much as he’d have thought.

  Chapter Six

  Hannah moved to the candy store counter and smiled at the teenage boy who walked in with his mother on Monday afternoon. He didn’t return the smile, just gave a semi-embarrassed “what am I doing here” half shrug.

  Hannah understood the adolescent gesture. When the woman moved off to examine preboxed candy, a note of desperation darkened the boy’s eyes, a quick flash, as if weighing escape routes and finding them lacking.

  A cold shudder coursed through Hannah; an icy prickling climbed her back, clawing her gut.

  She stood on her side of the counter, wanting to move, wanting to help, frozen in the press of memories, the boy’s stark look familiar.

  The boy read her expression and jerked his features into a quick semblance of normalcy. Then he ducked his chin.

  He’s a kid, Hannah reminded herself as she stepped forward. They’re all a little whacked-out at this age. Puberty does weird things to kids’ heads. You know that, Hannah. Get a grip.

  “May I help you?”

  He shrugged again, glanced around, then settled a look on his mother. “I’m just waiting for her.”

  His detached tone told Hannah he wasn’t here by choice. She nodded and raised a tray of freshly done candies. “Well, I’ve got a sampling here of some new twists on old favorites. If you’d like to try a couple for me, I’d value your opinion, sir.”

  Mixed emotions crossed his face, a hint of hope and pleasure marked with surprise. “Like, free?”

  Hannah’s laugh drew the woman’s attention. “Absolutely free. The only way we find out what works for people is a good old-fashioned taste test, so you’re my current guinea pig.”

  He smiled as he reached forward. Her banter had eased the hopeless expression she thought she’d seen. “I’ll try this and this.”

  “Perfect.” She nodded his way, then offered the tray to the woman. “How about you? Can you be tempted as easily as your son?”

  “Stepson,” the woman corrected too quickly.

  Hannah felt the swift bite that took the wind out of the young man’s sails. She wanted to give the woman a piece of her mind, but that would only make matters worse. The boy kept his gaze trained on the candy, but Hannah could read the set of his shoulders that said he couldn’t wait to be old enough to be out of his current situation.

  Holding the plate out, Hannah wrestled the Holy Spirit’s attention with an SOS. Cover him, Lord, soften him, shelter him, guide him, give him Your grace, Your courage, Your temperance, Your strength. Take this boy by the hand and the heart and carry him through whatever darkens his path.

  The boy shrugged and sent a sheepish look Hannah’s way as he headed for the door. “I’ll tell you which ones I like next time I come in.”

  Hannah nodded with appreciation. “Thank you…?” She ended the sentence on an up note, wanting his name.

  He stepped outside and the door swung quietly shut behind him.

  The woman sighed, tired, bored, rude. Hannah longed to smack her, but reminded herself she needed to cut the woman some slack, although right now that was the last thing she wanted to do.

  “My husband tolerates far too much. If it were up to me he’d be doing more manual labor to teach him a lesson or two.”

  Hannah fought off a sharp retort, knowing it wasn’t her place. Her heart went out to the boy. “Oh, he seems all right. Fairly normal for a young teen. What’s his name?”

  “Dominic.”

  “Nice. Strong.”

  “It’s his father’s name, handed down like some sort of crown. Ridiculous, really. Can you pack me a pound of mixed caramels, too?” she asked, pointing down the display case. “I’m hosting a dinner tomorrow night and chewy caramels might quiet some of the more annoying wives.”

  Hannah bit back words and nodded, filling the box quietly, not daring to speak.

  The woman made a show of surprise at the final tally, handed over a debit card with obvious reluctance, then left the store in her designer shoes, her attitude a cartoon depiction of the fairy-tale stepmother.

  Except this was real life and Dominic was on the receiving end of that harsh attitude.

  Help him, God. Guide him. Soften the days, gentle his nights. Don’t leave him alone, please.

  Another customer walked in, followed by another. The late September day highlighted autumn’s dance of color, summer’s verdant green becoming fall’s rainbowed majesty.

  Hannah used to welcome fall, embracing the seasonal changes, the excitement of a new school year, ripe with opportunity. New classes, different students, fresh opportunities. Now she confronted the capricious season, willing herself through the beauty by way of prayer and self-therapy methods her psychologist taught her.

  Day by day.

  Seeing this boy’s sorrow and angst, hearing the disdain in the stepmother’s voice and seeing the kaleidoscope of color in the trees beyond the east-facing stores on Main Street drummed up a lot of memories.

  But she disengaged herself from each twinge, taking care of customers and praying for strength, wishing for equilibrium, wanting more than anything else to move the clock back five years, to make a difference where it mattered most.

  But that would never happen so she’d pretend to be brave and bold outside while her cowardly soul huddled within, wishing she’d done more, knowing she hadn’t.

  And she couldn’t forgive herself for that.

  Hannah felt the air change the minute Jeff walked through the door Thursday night. She had to squelch twinges of anticipation. Luckily, two other committee members walked in with him.

  Perfect. Their presence precluded personal talk. She stepped forward and perked a smile that encompassed all three. “Good evening. I’ve got things set up at the round table tonight.”

  Jeff took her cue and stayed matter-of-fact. “And Grandma sent cookies from the Colonial Cookie store. Cookies you may have helped make.”

  Hannah kept her smile easy and her voice neutral. “I do the candy store more often now, so probably not. Although I’ve been known to warm up the cookie ovens at the bakeshop when Megan’s shorthanded.”

  “Altruistic.”

  “More like thrifty,” she told him. “Paying the bills. Hey, Callie, glad you could make it.” Hannah shifted her attention to Jacob’s mother as she hurried in, her hassled expression saying there weren’t quite enough hours in a day.

  “Glad to help, although I’ll miss this place when it’s all dolled up and fancy,” Callie told her, grinning. She gave the small, cramped library a fond look. “This was the Farmers Free Library before I was born.”

  “And before I was born,” added an older woman who followed Callie through the door, a newcomer to the committee. “And since I remember your mama pushing you in a stroller, Callie Marek, my memory stretches longer. But not with the same level of accuracy as you young folks.”

  Jeff stuck out a hand to the older woman. “I beg to differ, Miss Dinsmore. Your wealth of knowledge puts us youngsters to shame. How are you?”

  She waved off his hand with a shrug of impatience. “I’m not being unfriendly, Jeffrey, but I’ve had a cold hanging on for the better part of a month and while common sense would say I’m not contagious, it also warns me not to be careless with others, so I won’t shake your hand tonight.”

  “Is this the same cold you had in August?” he asked, his left brow shifting up.

  “Or another one piggybacking the first. In any case, catching colds when you’re a teacher isn’t a bit unusual.”

  “But not getting better is,” warned Jeff.

  His concerned manner intrigued Hannah. Was this a family friend? A relative?

  “Hannah, this is Miss Dinsmore, Wellsville’s beloved high school science teacher.”
Jeff offered the introduction easily, his affectionate tone respectful but friendly. “There are few people here who haven’t benefitted from her wisdom and patience during adolescence.”

  Science teacher?

  A cool chill crept up Hannah’s spine. “Nice to meet you.”

  The other woman met Hannah’s gaze with a pointed look of consideration before she softened her expression. “And you. I’ve heard a lot about you, my dear.”

  Jeff’s look sharpened, but one of the other committee members drew his attention, interrupting the moment.

  She knows.

  Hannah met Miss Dinsmore’s eyes and nodded, not willing to pursue the feeling but fairly sure she had no secrets from the wizened woman facing her. “Do you teach all levels?”

  “Yes and no.” Miss Dinsmore withdrew a chair and settled into it, a glimmer of discomfort darkening her features before she took a deep breath, let it out slowly and smiled. “I have over the years. Right now I’m doing bio and chem.”

  Hannah slid into the seat alongside her, reluctantly drawn. “I love biology.”

  “I know.” Miss Dinsmore looked at her and broke her no-touch, I’ve-got-a-cold rule. She laid her hand atop Hannah’s, commiserative. “You’re quite gifted.”

  A sigh enveloped Hannah from within, a silent inner wince that didn’t seem quite so harsh in Miss Dinsmore’s presence. “Thank you. It looks like we’re ready to get started.” She nodded toward the opposite side of the table where Jeff stood waiting, a folder in his hands, his quick glance taking in the scene with Miss Dinsmore but too far away to hear their conversation.

  Just as well.

  Miss Dinsmore nodded, and turned her attention toward Jeff. Callie slipped in next to Hannah, her bright smile pushing harsh memories aside. Hannah was pleased that the old thoughts shoved off with barely a whimper, a good step forward.

  Progress.

  She thanked God for baby steps of strength while Reverend Hannity offered a prayerful request for wisdom and cooperation; his warm words advised open minds and prayed for open wallets to help augment the cramped library surrounding them.

  And when Jeff’s eyes sought hers at the mention of open minds and forward progress, his expression sent her heart into a crazy spiral of what-ifs and could-bes. Hints of breaking out and busting loose tugged at her self-containment.