Rich in Faith (Richness in Faith, Book 3)

by Peterson, Lindi

  “I’m worried about Vera.” Crystal shrugs in the direction of the couple. “I can’t imagine what she’s been through with this scare regarding Cal, but she’s not acting like herself. She won’t leave his side for a minute. She rejected all the nurses who might have come here for aftercare. In a minute she’ll probably take him back to their room to rest. She’s not been letting him visit with anyone too long. I’m surprised the celebration is still on for tomorrow.”

  As if she heard Crystal, Vera announces to Court that his father needs to rest. Court helps his dad up, and Cal waves at everyone, telling them he’ll see them in a little while.

  All eyes stay on the Vera and Cal.

  All eyes but Court’s.

  His are on me.

  “Dad, wait. I’d like you to meet somebody.”

  Court closes the space between us with the whole family watching. It’s so quiet, like we’re in our own world. How his expression indicates that we have a world that’s our own, I’ll never know, but it does. “I’d like you to meet my dad.”

  “Sure.” I try to focus on how my dad would react at meeting his hero because that pushes away thoughts of why Court wants to introduce me to his dad.

  When we reach Vera and Court, Vera hugs me. “Nice to see you again. I was so focused on Cal I didn’t notice you.”

  “Not notice her?” Cal’s voice is strong, much stronger than his appearance reveals. “She’s too pretty not to notice. Hello, there.”

  He holds his hand out, and I take it. His grip is strong like his voice, and I’m thinking Vera is being very cautious in her care.

  “Hi.”

  “Dad, this is Shelby.”

  Cal smiles and it reaches all the way to the time-wrinkled skin around his eyes. “Shelby, huh? Damn good name. I like it.”

  “Cal?” Vera’s admonishment is all in how she says his name.

  Cal shakes his head. “Sorry. Not supposed to talk like that. Especially in front of ladies and kids. Darn good name.”

  “Thank you.”

  Vera starts to steer Cal away. “Proof he needs to rest. He’s forgetting his manners. See y’all at dinner.”

  I step back to allow Cal to walk in front of me, and find myself leaning into Court’s chest. The warmth is inviting, but I cannot impose. As I attempt to slide past him, I stumble, and Court places his hands on my shoulders, holding me against him while we watch, along with the others, Cal and Vera walk out of the living room.

  The touch of Court’s fingers, and the fact that he didn’t introduce me as his children’s nanny, have me wondering what is going through Court’s mind.

  THE BIG HOUSE echoes the silence of the night as I stand in the kitchen drinking a glass of water while Court settles the girls in bed.

  After an afternoon of a host of outdoor games, the Treyhune clan cleaned up for a massive dinner. The guys cooked on the grill while the women made a slew of cold salads and iced tea sweet enough to cause several cavities. Now, everyone has gone, leaving only Court, Team Twin and myself to stay at Cal and Vera’s house. Even though the place is huge, I can’t help but feel comfortable in it as I see family pictures everywhere. Knickknacks the kids have made for their grandma and grandpa are displayed proudly on tables as if they were high-dollar art pieces.

  No one tiptoes around this place. The kids barrel through the halls and staircases like they are at an amusement park.

  Life is lived here.

  It’s not a façade.

  “I hope we didn’t overwhelm you today.”

  Vera’s voice startles me.

  She opens the refrigerator and pours herself a glass of milk.

  “No. Everyone is so nice.”

  “It’s easy to be nice to someone who is nice in return. Everyone likes you.”

  She sits at the breakfast area table, and it seems like it would be rude for me to walk away. Yet, maybe she wants to be alone and it would be rude for me to stay.

  “Sit.”

  Her sweet voice settles my dilemma, and grabbing my glass I join her.

  I can tell this thing with Cal is tiring her as her eyes don’t have the same life to them as they did last week when I first met her. It looks like she’s dropped some weight as well, weight she couldn’t afford to lose.

  “So, tell me. Are you more than the nanny?”

  My face heats at her question. “No.”

  “Damn, I mean darn.”

  We both laugh at her intentional way of bringing humor into the room.

  “I want to see my son happy and sharing his life with someone. Someone who truly loves him. This thing with Cal proves how we must live every day to its fullest potential.”

  “I’m sure Court will meet someone eventually.”

  She keeps one hand around her glass, the other taps the side of it like she’s playing a piano. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you? You’re an intelligent, pretty gal. Good with the girls. What more could he want?”

  Somebody he loves and who loves him back is what I’m thinking.

  She pats the top of my hand. “It’s okay. It’s a rhetorical question. I can see your wheels spinning trying to think of an answer that won’t encourage or offend me.”

  “It’s just—”

  “I know,” she interrupts. “I’m tired and overthinking everything. I probably should catch some sleep while Cal is. The problem is my mind stays awake, reliving everything that has happened.”

  I point to her glass. “Maybe you can warm your milk. I’ve heard that will make you sleep.”

  Vera grimaces, still managing to look beautiful. “Tried that last night. Tasted awful and didn’t work.”

  “I’m not a fan either.” I don’t tell her I can sympathize with her inability to sleep. Lately, my sleep has been very broken.

  Like my life.

  “Well,” Vera says as she stands. “I’m going to give it the old college try. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight. I’ll take that.” I nod toward her glass.

  “Thank you.” She takes my hands in hers and for a moment I wonder what she is going to say.

  But she doesn’t say anything. I notice the hopeful look in her eyes before she leaves.

  Shaking my head, I walk to the sink and set our glasses in it.

  Flipping lights out as I walk, I let the moonlight guide my path. Shadows of darkness cause me to stumble as I reach the stairs.

  “Easy. I have you.”

  And indeed he does. Court’s hands are on either side of my hips, steadying me. “Thanks.”

  “Sorry. I’ve been sitting here thinking. I just saw Mom walk back to her bedroom. I didn’t realize you were still up.”

  “I came down for a drink of water.”

  He scoots over on the step. “Want to sit for a minute?”

  “Sure.” As I speak the word, it comes to me that the steps aren’t very wide, and once again, I will be extremely close to this man whose touch takes me places I’m not ready to go.

  “Welcome to my thinking place.”

  Our legs brush as I sit on the stairs. I would surmise that I should be becoming used to the feel of him, but I’m pretty sure his touch is something I will never become used to.

  “When I was a kid, I would sit here if I had a problem.”

  “Did it help?” I ask.

  “Not always. But it always gave me a good sense of direction. Up or down. I considered going back to my room upstairs a means of looking up, or going up. Moving forward. Sounds stupid, but it worked for me.”

  “It doesn’t sound stupid. And like you said, if it worked…”

  “Did you have a favorite thinking spot?”

  Memories tumble through my mind. Memories I’ve suppressed far too long to reveal now.

  Especially to someone like Court Treyhune. His family’s fortune is probably one of the biggest around.

  I’ve been burned by his kind in the worst way, and I vowed I wouldn’t put myself in that position ever again.

&nb
sp; But for the first time since I made that vow as a hurt seventeen-year-old, I find myself drawn once again to the mystery of a man that is way out of my league.

  Maybe Court is different.

  Maybe he wouldn’t care about my background.

  My upbringing.

  Maybe if I told him my favorite thinking spot was sitting on the steps going up to my trailer, he wouldn’t think twice about it.

  I can’t believe my mind is actually going to that place. That place of revealing my past.

  But Court speaks, squelching any words that might have come out of my mouth.

  “MaryLeigh and Jared grew up together.”

  MINGLING

  HIS WORDS ARE like a confession, only I don’t see what he has to confess. His tone indicates it’s a fact that doesn’t set well with him. “They did?”

  “Yes. Only I didn’t find out until after I married MaryLeigh. Not that it would have mattered, but the fact that they kept it hidden mattered.”

  “Kept it hidden? When did you find out?”

  “About a year before she became sick. We were all out together and someone from their past saw us, came over and started talking about the old days.”

  “Awkward.”

  “Very.”

  The rooms are dark, but the floor-length windows let in moonlight which casts shadows across the floor. I wonder what it is about the darkness that turns Court into someone who wants to reveal things.

  It’s like the darkness is a catalyst for emptying his heart. “What was their reason for keeping this from you?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ve learned that the truth and MaryLeigh and Jared don’t always line up. I’m still trying to mesh it all together.”

  “Oh.” My heart flutters for a moment. I tell myself I’m not lying to Court. So what if there are things about me he doesn’t know? I’m the nanny for his children.

  Not someone he’s interested in spending his future with. “I liked to sit on the steps, too.” No need to reveal any details about the steps.

  Where they led.

  The fact that they were weathered and wooden, not covered in plush carpet.

  Steps are steps.

  “I’m comfortable around you. I’m not comfortable around a lot of people.”

  I don’t know whether to say thank you or not.

  And he makes comfortable sound like a favorite, worn shirt. Like comfortable is something he’s resigned himself to, not something he’s looking forward to.

  I want to be what somebody is looking forward to.

  I stand, the urgent need to end this conversation overwhelming me. This, he and I, will never work, so why I’m sitting here reminiscing about his past, refusing to reveal mine is beyond me. “Goodnight.”

  Carefully I turn, making my way up the stairs quickly before he can say anything that will change my mind.

  FATHER’S DAY DAWNS sunny and warm. I want to call my dad early, before the festivities begin. I’m sure the day will fly by and we have to be at the airport at four o’clock to go back to Florida.

  I tiptoe through the house, not wanting to wake anyone. Crystal is in the kitchen, but her nose is buried in her coffee and newspaper simultaneously, and she doesn’t even acknowledge that I pass by.

  I find a spot outside where my cell service is excellent and call my dad.

  “Happy Father’s Day to the best dad in the world.” I hope my tone sounds lighthearted and fun, not worried and secretive.

  “Shelbs. How’s my favorite girl?”

  I laugh. “Mom must be at church. She thinks she’s your favorite girl.”

  “You’re both my favorite girls.” In my mind I can see him smile, which makes me miss him that much more. Except for a summer or two where I was at camp, I’ve always spent Father’s Day with my dad.

  Oh, and last year. I ditched my dad in favor of Dale’s dad. “I miss you, Dad. Especially today. Of course I mailed my card late. It should arrive on Monday.”

  “Ah, honey. You know I don’t need a card. Just hearing your voice is all I need. Florida treating you okay?”

  “It is.” The least possible said is the best in this situation.

  “Good. Your mama and I are trying hard not to be worried about you with the break up and all that. Trying real hard. You sure you’re doing all right?”

  “I am. I promise.” Again, short and sweet.

  “I’ll take your word for it. What part of Florida are you in? I don’t think your mama told me.”

  Mama didn’t tell you because I didn’t tell her. To blow off the question would draw more attention than telling them. “Kind of between Orlando and Miami. It’s a little town. You probably haven’t heard of it. Hampton Cove.”

  “Hampton Cove? What do you mean I probably haven’t heard of it? That’s where Court Treyhune lives. Cal Treyhune’s son. He owns all those car dealerships in those parts.”

  “Oh.” To say anymore would be dangerous.

  Very dangerous.

  “Shelbs. You’re not gonna believe this. Your mama surprised me with two tickets to the Fourth of July race. We’re going to Daytona. I’ve wanted to go to Daytona my whole life. The 500 costs way too much, but she scrimped and saved for a while now and I’m just as happy to be going in July. Can you believe it Shelbs?”

  I’m not believing much of anything at this point. He’s finally going to Daytona. Why now? Why this year?

  I don’t know why I’m so nervous. It’s not like I’m going to be there or anything. It’s not like Court will be there.

  Putting as much enthusiasm in my voice as I can, I answer my dad. “That’s great news, Dad. I know you’ll have an awesome time.”

  “Your mama, she’s got such a big heart. And you’re just like her.”

  A big heart and a deceiving heart. That’s what I have.

  I am standing in the yard of Cal Treyhune, my dad’s hero in life. And I can’t say a word.

  I can’t say a word because there are way too many scenarios which could play out, and if even one of them did, I would be exposed for who I really am.

  “I’m excited for sure, Shelbs.”

  A high-pitched squeal rings out in the air. I turn toward the house and see Bristol and Darling running out the door. “Dad, I need to run. The kids I’m watching are up, and I need to get to work.”

  “They make you work on a Sunday? Don’t you have a day off?”

  “It’s kind of round the clock right now. But it’s okay. Tell Mama I said hi and I love her. You too. Talk to you soon.”

  “Love you, too. And yes, we’ll talk soon.”

  We hang up, and I walk over to where Darling is chasing Bristol. “What are you girls doing? You can’t be screaming through the house. Your grandpa needs to rest.”

  “Bristol took the last bagel. And I want it. She won’t share, either.”

  I stand, hands on hips, and watch as Bristol shoves a bite of the bagel into her mouth. The bite is way too big and her mouth is working hard trying to chew it.

  Taking Darling by the hand I start walking. “Come on, we’ll find you something to eat.”

  Instead of wringing her hand out of mine, she actually squeezes my hand a little as we walk. She halfway turns and I see her stick her tongue out at Bristol, who immediately starts following us.

  “Here,” she says catching up and shoving the rest of the bagel in Darling’s face. “I’ll share.”

  “No. Shelby is going to make me breakfast.”

  Good grief, did I say I would make something? I don’t think so, but since it seems to have calmed Darling down, I don’t argue.

  “I want Shelby to make me breakfast, too.”

  Bristol is keeping strides with us. We all walk into the kitchen, which is now void of Crystal. Her empty coffee cup and wrinkled paper still sit on the table. As Darling slides into a chair, Bristol drops what is left of her bagel into the trash can.

  “Seriously?” I look at her. “Why did you throw away perfectly good food? There are starving ch
ildren—”

  “All over the world. I know.”

  And the rich people say it as well. “Well, there are. You had no reason to throw that away.”

  “I wanna eat what you cook. Like Darling.”

  With those words, she scoots a chair close to Darling and sits.

  Opening the refrigerator and cabinets, I find an abundance of food and start cooking.

  “What is going on here?”

  The girls are still sitting in their chairs at the table as Court walks in. I’m standing at the stove, void of makeup, wearing a now grease-splattered shirt as I made the mistake of trying to cook the bacon too fast.

  So glad I’m only the nanny. “Just cooking a little breakfast. Want some?”

  He peruses the counter and stove, lifting a paper towel that covers the toast I’ve been making. As if on cue, the toaster oven beeps indicating another two slices are done.

  Raising his eyebrows, he nods toward the toaster oven. Without asking, he takes the slices out and starts buttering them with the butter I had sitting next to the plate.

  I don’t say anything, but do appreciate his help. Finishing up the bacon, I pour the eggs that are ready to scramble into a pan, the sizzle breaking the quiet of the room.

  “Something smells good.”

  The voice of Cal Treyhune halts my hand in mid-motion as I stir the eggs. After a moment, I start again, making sure the eggs don’t burn. If I do this right they will come out fluffy and soft.

  “Turns out Shelby is one good cook, Dad. Do you want some breakfast?”

  “You bet I do. Bacon, eggs, my kind of food. You’re a good woman, Shelby. A good woman with a good name to match.”

  Cal sits at the end of the table, and I wonder how much of the food I’m cooking he’s even allowed to eat.

  I don’t say anything. I can’t.

  Images of my father blast into my mind.

  Here I am, on Father’s Day, making breakfast for the man my father considers his hero.

  An unsettling feeling rolls through my stomach. I have no concrete reason to feel this way, but this life I’m living, mingling with the Treyhunes for the summer, is going to change my life.

  I just don’t know exactly how.

  MISTRUSTS