Lone Oak Feud (Harlequin Heartwarming)

by Knupp, Amy

  She lay down again, afraid to leave her room. She couldn’t take Owen to the school carnival. What if she had a spell in public?

  “Zachary!”

  She heard his heavy footsteps clomping up the stairs and down the hall to her doorway. “Yeah, Gram, what’s up?”

  “I’m not feeling too well.”

  He entered her room and stood at the edge of her bed, concern etched into his face. “You getting sick?”

  “Upset belly. I don’t dare go more than twenty feet from the toilet, if you get my meaning.”

  The grimace on his face confirmed he did, thank goodness. Lying to him made her more than a little uncomfortable.

  “Anything I can do?”

  She was hoping he’d ask. “I promised Owen I’d take him to that carnival at the school.” She paused. “I don’t want to let him down.”

  “Does he know it’s today?”

  “Oh, yes. Haven’t you heard him going on about it?”

  Zach crossed his arms and looked at the ceiling. “You want me to take him.”

  “I hate to think of him missing it.”

  Zach paced toward the window and back again. He rubbed the back of his neck absently. Finally, he nodded. “I’ll do it.” He sounded as if he’d agreed to be lined up against a wall and shot at.

  “He shouldn’t be much trouble. He’s a good kid, unlike some I know.” She fixed a meaningful look on him.

  Zach wanted to protest but held it in. No sense in letting on that he was terrified of taking a five-year-old out in public. He felt lame enough without broadcasting his cowardice. “How long does it go on?”

  “Starts at noon and runs till this evening, but you don’t have to stay for the whole thing. Owen won’t last that long.”

  “So what, maybe an hour?”

  “Two or three, I’d say. Just tune in to the boy. He’ll let you know when he’s done.”

  Zach could tune in until he was old enough to retire, and he still didn’t think he’d be able to read a kindergartner. He glanced at his watch. “Looks like we’d better go. Get it over with.”

  His grandma chuckled. “That’s the spirit. Go have fun, Zachary. And if you don’t mind, mail this pile of bills for me while you’re out.”

  With a mock salute, he grabbed the stack of envelopes and left to search for Owen. He had a ton of work to catch up on—correspondence, bids, working up a plan for the zoning compromise. It was a nightmare to keep up on his job long distance. Yeah, Chuck had said to take some time off, but Zach didn’t want Adam attempting something so important to the company. He’d just mess things up worse. Zach had no choice but to be here in Lone Oak, but he sure couldn’t let his future go to pot by ignoring Moxley. He’d have to work half the night.

  It took a full forty minutes to find Owen, wash his face, put some presentable clothes on the kid, herd him to the toilet, get shoes on him and head out the door. Forty minutes. He could’ve cleared his overflowing e-mail inbox in that time.

  He took a slow breath and reminded himself it wasn’t Owen’s fault they were in this situation. All the boy did was have the bad luck of being born a Rundle.

  “Let’s go, O. See what this sock hop’s all about.”

  “It’s not a sock hop, it’s a carnival.” The child launched into explaining to Zach everything he thought they’d see there.

  Outside, Zach opened the passenger door to his truck and waited for Owen to hop in. The boy froze.

  “Come on, don’t you want to get to the carnival?”

  Owen nodded fervently.

  “Then what’s wrong, buddy?”

  “I need my booster.”

  “Your what?”

  Owen headed for the garage while Zach tried to figure out what a booster was. Rocket engine? He followed the boy through the side door just in time to see him open the backseat of his grandma’s old Buick.

  “O, what are you doing? We’re taking the truck. A much cooler ride than that old tank.”

  He finally saw what Owen tugged at—some kind of car seat. Ah, a booster seat. Of course.

  Zach had been ready to drive down the road illegally, with Owen in nothing but a seat belt that probably wouldn’t fit, now that he thought about it. Nice one. Good thing the kid was old enough to talk and smart enough to get what he needed.

  He took the seat from the boy and carried it to his truck. He squeezed it into the backseat and stared at it, wondering how to hook the thing up. He sighed. If they were lucky, they’d be home by bedtime.

  “I’ll do it.” Owen squeezed under Zach’s arms and wiggled into the backseat. He pushed the booster to the side, hopped up and pulled the shoulder belt across his scrawny body. “You’re ’posed to buckle this in down there, then run it through this hole here.”

  Smart kid. Zach did as he was directed and they managed to pull out of the driveway in a mere five minutes.

  At the carnival, they were bombarded by the screams and laughter of a thousand kids. Zach tried to ignore the headache that threatened him and told himself he wasn’t out of his league. As they walked down the crowded hallway toward the gymnasium, Owen moved close to Zach and grasped his hand. The gesture startled Zach. He had this kid’s trust, whether he deserved it or not.

  The thought of what people would say when they saw him responsible for a young child made him sweat. Zach Rundle? Guiding a child? That was one for the books.

  “Uncle Zach, look!” Owen squealed as they entered the gym, where most of the booths and attractions were set up.

  He followed the boy’s gaze to the giant inflatable slide looming over the crowd. He also spotted a dunking tank, a pie-throwing contest and a bunch of other activities. Zach hadn’t been exposed to these kinds of community things until he was older. Then he’d stayed as far from them as possible.

  Owen was bursting with excitement. Zach smiled in spite of himself. How could he not? This was what it should be like for a five-year-old boy.

  They headed to the ticket booth and stocked up for the afternoon. Then he pulled Owen to the side and bent down so they could hear each other. “What do you want to do first, O?”

  The child’s eyes were bulging out of his face. It was obvious he couldn’t wait to become part of the fray but instead of answering, he shrugged his shoulders.

  “You don’t know?”

  Owen shook his head slowly and looked up at Zach fearfully. Zach would have to take the initiative here even though he was a novice—at carnivals and caretaking.

  “How ’bout that big slide over there?” He gestured with his head.

  Owen considered it but didn’t reply.

  “Looks pretty fun, doesn’t it?”

  A shy nod. Zach took that as a good sign and headed for the end of the slide line that snaked around two other attractions. As they waited, lots of kids about Owen’s age wandered by, but Owen gave no sign of being friends with any of them. Sad. But not surprising. Rundles had trouble making friends.

  When they got close to the front of the line, Zach said, “Looks like you have to take your shoes off.” He bent down to help him, but Owen didn’t move. “What’s wrong, big guy?”

  “You go, too.”

  “Me?”

  Owen nodded.

  “Go down the slide?”

  “Yeah. Please, Uncle Zach?”

  Zach stood and checked it out. He saw a mom come down it with a young child in her arms. Then a dad. Rats. He was hoping it wouldn’t hold his weight. He’d feel like an idiot. “I don’t know. Why don’t you try it by yourself?”

  Owen shook his head.

  Time for Zach to suck it up.

  “Okay, buddy. As long as you don’t think I’m too big.”

  Owen giggled. “You’re not too big! There’s other daddies on it even.”<
br />
  Zach ignored the other daddies comment and bent to untie the work boots he always wore.

  When it was their turn, Zach shelled out enough tickets for both of them and led Owen toward the inflatable stairs. They teetered like a couple of drunks on the unstable surface, which set Owen off in a fit of giggles. Zach boosted the boy’s rear end when he needed it until they were at the top. As they prepared to launch, with Owen between Zach’s legs, Zach glanced down at the crowd at the bottom.

  Wouldn’t you know it—there she was. The nosy sometimes-next-door neighbor easily stood out from the crowd with her huge smile and long hair pulled back into a ponytail. She wore a shirt unbuttoned halfway down with a tank underneath, drawing Zach’s eyes even from way up here. She waved across the way to someone just before she glanced up and saw Zach. Her smile faded.

  “Let’s go, Uncle Zach!”

  They inched forward and plunged down the slide, Owen shrieking the whole way. Zach couldn’t help but laugh right along with him. Forget the people watching. Especially her.

  “Again! Again!” Owen hollered as he skittered out of the enclosed inflatable area.

  Zach searched for Lindsey in the crowd, but he didn’t see her. Just as well.

  An hour later, after they’d exhausted their ticket supply, Zach and Owen made their way down the locker-lined hallway toward Food Alley. Zach caught the aroma of greasy fair foods—corn dogs, funnel cakes, bratwursts.

  “What do you want, O?”

  Owen stared at all the different booths, then shrugged.

  Following his gut, Zach headed to a booth on their right. “Two turkey legs, please.”

  “We’re eating legs?”

  “Turkey. Haven’t you had a turkey leg before?”

  Owen shook his head.

  “What about a chicken leg? A drumstick?”

  “I guess so.”

  “This is just like a drumstick,” Zach said after paying and taking the two big dripping legs from the cashier. “Except bigger.”

  They followed hand-painted signs to one of the classrooms designated a “picnic area.” Several mismatched picnic tables covered in bright red checkerboard tablecloths and a barbeque grill for props were scattered around the room, the usual desks and chairs stacked along the far wall.

  Lindsey sensed the moment Zach and his charge entered the room. She stood at the back, next to the sink, where she’d been washing off messy faces and hands before they returned to the gym.

  She’d been shocked to see Zach here at first. But it made sense that he’d brought Owen, who was the perfect age for the attractions. What had Mrs. Rundle had to do to convince Zach to chaperone? He couldn’t be here by choice.

  The tables some kids and their parents had just vacated needed a good cleaning—like maybe a power hose—so Lindsey grabbed a wet towel and headed over. When she got to the table next to Zach and Owen’s, she couldn’t help hearing their conversation.

  “The main thing,” Zach was saying, “is that you hold on to both sides. Especially the skinny part. It’s like a handle.” He showed Owen where to grasp the turkey leg. Owen was taking it in as if this were the most important lesson in the world.

  Lindsey smiled. Owen was so trusting and happy, despite losing his mom and now his dad, too. He had a tenuous grip on the drumstick and sank his teeth into the meat. He giggled as grease dripped down his chin, and Zach reached across the table to wipe it up. Just as Zach finished, Owen spotted Lindsey and waved with his free hand. She waved back.

  “Hi, Owen. Zach.”

  “Wanna sit with us?” Owen asked.

  She glanced around. There were only three others in the room. No one needed her right now. And no one here would run to her dad.

  “Come on, sit,” Zach said.

  There was no reason not to. She straddled the bench so she faced Owen, leaning on the table with one elbow.

  “Didn’t expect to see you here,” Zach said between bites.

  “My sister talked me into volunteering.” She turned back to Owen. “How’s the turkey leg?”

  “Yummy! Uncle Zach’s teaching me how to hold it.”

  “That’s pretty nice of him. Might have to get one myself before long.”

  “Do you need Uncle Zach to teach you, too?”

  “Nope. I’m an expert turkey leg eater.”

  Zach raised a skeptical eyebrow at her, which she tried to ignore. She quizzed Owen about what games he’d played so far.

  “My very favorite was the tank where you throw the ball at the circle and if you hit it, the person on the seat falls in the water.”

  “Ah, the dunk tank. Did you hit the circle?”

  Owen shook his head. His eyes widened with excitement. “But Uncle Zach did. He got the principal wet. Everybody cheered.”

  Lindsey met Zach’s eyes. “The principal, huh? Don’t you know you’re supposed to miss on purpose?”

  “Had to come through for the kid.”

  Owen set down his half-eaten turkey leg and pushed it away. “All done?” she asked him.

  He nodded and wiped his hands on his jeans. Lindsey gently took them and cleaned them with a napkin.

  “If you take your garbage over there to that big trash can, I’ll meet you at the sink in back to help you wash your hands and face.”

  “Not so fast,” Zach said as he grabbed what remained of the leg. “I’ll take care of this.”

  “You’re so good with him,” she said when Owen was out of earshot.

  “Never mind, Salinger. My grandma and brother can take care of him fine.”

  “I was just making conversation.”

  He didn’t answer, just pretended to be completely absorbed by the art of eating turkey.

  “So Josh is home then?”

  He glared. “Not yet.”

  “Then you’re getting lots of practice with Owen.” She grinned, knowing full well she was ticking him off.

  He put down the turkey bone, mostly bare now, and wiped his chin with a napkin. Then he leveled his gaze at her. “There’s no way I’m adopting him, so drop it.”

  She saw Owen waiting at the sink and stood. “I won’t say another word. Today.”

  Zach shook his head. He was starting to believe she really did care about Owen. For some reason, that almost made Zach like her in spite of her incessant interfering.

  Oh, who was he kidding? He’d always liked her. Too much.

  He sat where he was, waiting for Owen to return, when a short, older woman approached Lindsey.

  “Hello, Lindsey,” she said in a loud voice that seemed to fit her.

  Owen headed back to Zach.

  “Mrs. Seamore, hi... Grandma duty today, huh?” Lindsey looked toward the other end of the room, where two children sat across from each other eating watermelon.

  “I’m giving Brynn a break. Who could pass up taking those two to a carnival?”

  “They’re cute. First and third grade?”

  She nodded. Then the woman’s voice got quieter, which, unfortunately, was still loud enough for Zach to hear. “I have to ask. What are you doing with Zach Rundle?”

  She said Rundle the way she might say prairie rattlesnake. Zach didn’t want to hear her, didn’t want Owen to hear her, but he couldn’t drag himself away.

  “I...” Lindsey cleared her throat, looking caught off guard. “Owen—the little boy. I’m trying to make him feel comfortable. He’s been through an awful lot.”

  “So I’ve heard.” Mrs. Seamore’s tone conveyed no warmth. “I don’t think it’s proper after what Josh did to your family.”

  “Come on, O, we’re outta here.” Zach pulled the child with him, wishing he’d left about five minutes sooner, knowing the boy had heard every word.

  “What did my daddy
do?” he asked as they left the classroom.

  Zach wasn’t going there today. “Nothing you need to worry about, kiddo. I promise it has nothing to do with you. I’ll buy you six more tickets. What do you want to do?”

  Lindsey glanced toward the door just as Zach led Owen out. They had to have heard Mrs. Seamore. She’d been one of her mom’s best friends—they’d grown up together in Layton and had both ended up settling in Lone Oak. Lindsey knew she meant well, but why couldn’t she just keep her mouth shut? She forced a smile and said, “Nice to see you again, Mrs. Seamore.” As she moved away, she prayed the woman wouldn’t get it in her head to call Lindsey’s dad with the latest on his disrespectful daughter.

  The Rundles’ reputation had been shoddy for years, even before the accident. Josh and Zach had grown up with few if any friends and a laundry list of enemies. From the time they’d moved in with their grandma when their mom had reportedly deserted them, people had talked. Misfits from day one.

  It appeared that Owen would be subjected to the same treatment as long as he stayed in this town.

  For his sake, Lindsey wished there was an easy solution to the matter of his custody and care. Yeah, it’d be perfect if Josh surfaced and cleaned up his act in order to take over his role as father. But she seriously doubted that would happen anytime before Owen grew up and had kids of his own.

  The more realistic solution was for Zach to step in and adopt him. Seeing him with his nephew today, she knew Zach could do it.

  Growing up next door, Lindsey had had glimpses beyond the bad-boy facade. At least with Zach. She’d known long before the accident he wasn’t as bad as everyone wanted to believe. Wasn’t even as bad as he wanted everyone to believe.

  He used to put on an act anytime he was in public—at school when he’d bothered to show up, at the convenience store where he’d bought cigarettes. He’d played up the anti-authority rebel flawlessly. Lindsey imagined that was part of who he was. But she’d been exposed to a different side of him.

  Zach cared more than anyone else would believe. He’d shown it earlier today in his own unsure-with-kids way. And he’d shown it years ago when Lindsey was maybe twelve years old and he’d saved her hide.