The boy sent him a sorrowful frown. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to mess it up.”
“That’s okay. Leave it in. It’s no big deal.” The child’s eyes grew saucer round. “It isn’t?”
“Nope.”
When Timothy moved down next to Rusty, Cara came to Noah’s side and leaned close. His heartbeat picked up speed while her scent of vanilla dominated all others.
“Thanks,” she whispered.
“For what?”
“For not making a big deal out of the snarled lines. Timothy can get extra sensitive about messing up.”
“Why? Isn’t that part of learning?” He might not have parenting down, but it was a no-brainer that children would make mistakes while learning new things. He certainly had and still did.
“Yes, but my husband didn’t tolerate mistakes well to the point that Timothy rarely tried something new.”
“I’ve got something!” Lindsay jumped up and down, losing her hold on the rod.
Noah lunged toward the pole as it flew out of the girl’s hand. He landed with a splash in the pond. Bringing his head up, he saw his best fishing rod for the last time when it disappeared under the water in the middle. He contemplated, since he was already wet, swimming out to where it had vanished and diving down to search for the pole.
Lindsay’s sobs halted that thought. She danced about on the shore, gesturing toward the water. “I didn’t mean to let it go. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Noah pushed himself to his feet, his tennis shoes drenched, along with the rest of him. The humor in the situation struck him, and he began to laugh. “I seem to be constantly in a soaked state. I promise you guys I take a shower every day.”
The two boys took one look at him and began to giggle while Lindsay quieted. A smile grew on her face as she stared at him.
Noah glanced at Cara, who was trying desperately to hide her laughter behind her hand. “Do I look that bad?”
She walked to him and pulled a plant from his hair, then rubbed her hand along his cheek. “I’m thinking you might need that shower now.”
When he saw the mud on her fingertips, he peered down at his tan jeans and light blue T-shirt. Not only were they wet but dark with dirt ground into them, and somehow he’d managed to stir up muck that now covered his white—strike that, brown—tennis shoes.
“Oh, I’ve got something!” Timothy yelled.
“Hold on to it.” Noah hurried to the boy’s side.
Cara’s son gripped it and looked up at Noah for help. “What do I do now?”
“Reel it in like I showed you.” Noah stood behind Timothy, his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You’re doing great.”
Timothy struggled to bring the fish in. When the medium-sized crappie broke the surface, the boy beamed. “It’s a big one!” He swung his pole until he flopped the fish onto the grass along the shore. “Can I have it for dinner, Mom?”
“Sure. We can fry up any edible ones we catch.”
“Now you can learn how to take it off the hook, and then you can put it in the bucket next to the bait box.”
Rusty tried to ignore them, but when Noah squatted beside Timothy, Rusty sidled over to where Noah was showing Cara’s son how to handle the crappie. While Rusty acted as if he wasn’t interested in what they were doing, he kept peeking at them, stepping even closer.
As Timothy baited his hook again, Rusty’s lined bobbed. “I’ve got a hit! I’ve got a hit!”
“Great! You’ll get to eat your own fish.” Timothy moved closer to his friend.
Rusty began reeling his catch in, such a big grin on his face that Noah responded with one of his own. He glanced around him, everyone’s attention directed at Rusty. Was this what family was about? Cheering each other on? Caring about the other? Remembering his too-brief years with the Hendersons, Noah had to say yes to all three questions. For a short time he had experienced that.
Then why have I turned my back on having a family?
Because for most of his life, he lived in fear, just wanting to survive one day to the next. And then when Whitney came along he had to protect her, and when he didn’t, the guilt ate into him. He’d let her down on numerous occasions, and he didn’t want to experience that ever again.
* * *
Cara finished her preparations for frying the fish the boys caught that day. Along with coleslaw, baked beans and corn bread, there should be enough for dinner tonight. She wouldn’t do the crappie until the children and Noah got back from the farm. Although he was allergic to cats, Noah insisted on being the one to pick up the kitten, since he’d taken Bosco there in the first place.
Cara returned the milk to the refrigerator and started back toward the sink when she spied the front of The Ultimate Pizzeria on the news. She quickly adjusted the volume to the TV on the kitchen counter, so she could hear what the reporter was saying.
The same woman who had been in front of the mansion said, “The protests continue concerning the charges being brought against the three star baseball players for the UCC’s team. Noah Maxwell, the owner of this restaurant, is one of the witnesses and Cara Winters’s employer. This is the site where the alleged incident happened. I have with me one of the leaders of this protest.”
As the reporter thrust a microphone into the face of a large, beefy man who Cara recognized as one of the people who had been outside the gate, she flipped the sound down. When was she going to learn? She couldn’t listen to the news while fixing dinner, as was her habit. She would need to change her routine in order to keep her composure. She didn’t want the children to see what this trial was doing to her.
But she couldn’t take her gaze off the television image of people marching with those awful posters in front of Noah’s restaurant. She noticed in the background the cars slowing down and the occupants gawking. What a spectacle!
With hands quivering, she reached for the button and turned the set off. The calmness she sought evaded her. Her stomach knotted. Noah didn’t deserve this. All he’d tried to do was help her and his business might suffer because of that.
What do I do, Lord?
Thoughts swirled around in her mind, making no sense. Leave. No, fight. Go back to Laura’s. Stay and make those men pay for what they did.
What do You want?
The question hung in the air for a long moment. The sound of the French doors opening and children’s voices reverberating through the great room in excitement gave her no time to come up with a plan. But she had to talk to Noah. That much she knew.
“Mom! Mom!”
Timothy skidded to a stop just inside the kitchen. He held Bosco up. “He missed me. Hear his purring.”
Not giving her son a chance to thrust the kitten at her, she scooped him up into her embrace and hugged him tightly to her. “I love you.”
“Mom, you’re squashing Bosco.”
She pulled back, fighting tears near the surface. “Oh, sorry. I just missed you.”
“I was only gone a little while.”
A lot changed in an hour, she thought, but kept quiet. Later she would get Noah alone to talk. She wouldn’t be responsible for hurting his business or him. As they had become friends, his guard occasionally slipped, and she sensed his vulnerability more and more.
Noah and the other children appeared in the entrance to the kitchen. “We’re starved. We had to help out at the barn so I’ve worked up quite an appetite for those crappie.”
“Sure. Lindsay, you and Timothy set the table. Rusty and Adam will do the dishes tonight afterward.”
Amid some groans, Cara began frying the fish. “Don’t forget to wash your hands.”
More groans, then the shuffling of feet as the children all went into the laundry room off the kitchen to use the sink in there. The sounds they made drowned out Cara’s thoughts. To get through the dinner she needed to concentrate on something other than the protestors and the upcoming trial, the fact that Tim had always kept her in the dark about what was going on with him. Although Noah
and she weren’t married, they were friends and employer-employee. She deserved to know everything, even the bad. The time to deal with that would be later when she confronted Noah and asked him why he hadn’t told her what was happening at his restaurant.
CHAPTER NINE
“Are you sure it’s all right to have Timothy spend the night with Rusty?” Cara stopped at the top of the staircase after putting Lindsay to sleep.
Noah started down the steps. “Rusty’s talking again. I don’t want to jeopardize that. As I left them, they were hashing over today’s fishing. They’re still arguing over who got the biggest crappie.”
“They just won’t accept it was a tie.” Cara followed Noah into the great room, still needing to have that talk with him now that the younger children were in bed. She glanced toward the game room where Adam watched a movie DVD, the sounds of the television drifting to her. “We need to talk. How about out on the deck?”
Noah arched an eyebrow. “This must be serious.”
She didn’t respond, but instead headed toward the French doors and exited. The cool spring air, heavy with the smell of rain, wrapped around her. At the railing she faced Noah; the light from the floor-to-ceiling windows silhouetted him, casting his features in dimness. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Then she remembered how adept he was at masking his true emotions behind a neutral facade. It wouldn’t make any difference if she saw his expression or not.
“I saw the six o’clock news tonight and guess what was on it?”
“Another report about the trial?”
“Yes. This one showed your restaurant being picketed where the incident, according to the reporter, allegedly happened. Why didn’t you tell me?”
He stiffened. “Because it isn’t your concern.”
He might as well have slammed a door in her face. She stepped away, the railing pressing into her back. “Not my concern? How can you say that?”
“Easy. You aren’t working at the restaurant anymore.”
“But I’m the reason those people are marching out in front of The Ultimate Pizzeria. Is it hurting business?”
Silence greeted her question.
“Don’t bother answering. It is.”
“It’s been slow since they appeared a few days ago,” Noah said.
“Oh, Noah, I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry about what?” His voice firmed with anger. “You aren’t at fault. Those three guys are. If they think this will make me back down from testifying to the truth, then they don’t know me. I won’t be blackmailed!”
His declaration should have soothed her, but her stomach twisted into a tighter knot, the anxiety spreading upward to constrict her chest.
He inched closer. She tried to maneuver away but his arms caged her against the railing. “They need to be held accountable for their actions. Being the star players of the baseball team does not make them invincible.”
“But what if people stop coming to eat at The Ultimate Pizzeria? I can’t have that on my conscience.”
“First, I only have four here in Cimarron City. I have ten times that in other places all over Oklahoma, Kansas, Arkansas and Texas.” He leaned in, his mouth a breath away.
“You do?” she squeaked, her throat dry, her heart thudding against her chest.
“I’ve worked for the past twelve years, seventy-hour weeks to build this chain up and I have succeeded. This protest won’t bring it down. I won’t let that happen. I finally am at a place in my life where I can relax and actually take some time for myself because I’ve got a good organization in place. Those three punks won’t take that away from me.”
“You can’t control everything.” She desperately tried to ignore the scent of coffee and peppermint that bathed her lips with each sentence he uttered.
He cradled her face between his large palms. “We are not in the wrong.” He said each word slowly as though giving her time to let its meaning sink in.
The tension melted as he cut any space between them and wound his arms around her. His mouth settled over hers, a gentle caress that quickly evolved into a demanding kiss that whisked away all her stress. The only thing her mind could focus on was the effect Noah had on her. His distinctive scent, the comfort from his embrace, the sense of safety when she was near him.
When he broke away, his ragged breathing attested to the effect she had on him. She’d never felt so feminine as in that moment. She didn’t need to see his face to realize that their relationship had changed. Later, she’d probably panic, but right now, a glow encompassed her with a feeling of warmth.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” he muttered, pivoting away.
Something died in her with those words.
Then he swung back toward her. “But I’m not sorry for kissing you. I’ve wanted to since I met you.”
The sun came out and shone bright in the middle of the night. “You mean when you nearly ran me down or when you drenched me with water?”
He chuckled, raking his hand through his hair. “You aren’t gonna let me live that down, are you?”
“Nope. I have to have something to hold over you.”
“At least it’s not the kitten incident.”
“I’m surprised Timothy agreed to spend the night since Bosco has to stay at the cottage.”
“It’s good to see Rusty and Timothy becoming friends.”
Cara lounged against the railing, crossing her arms over her chest. “After his father died, Timothy wouldn’t have much to do with his friends in St. Louis. He shut down.”
“I thought he had counseling? Didn’t that help?”
Only a father’s unconditional love will help. “Yes, some, but when Tim died, my son lost his chance to prove himself to his dad. That had become important to Timothy as he grew older.”
“Sometimes there’s nothing you can do to change the situation. It has taken me years to realize that.”
“And you do now?”
Moving farther away, deeper into the dark shadows, he didn’t say anything for a long moment. “In my head, yes. I’m still working on my heart.”
He’d begun erecting the wall he kept between himself and others. Her heart cracked. She wished she had back the man who had given her a glimpse inside him. Before he totally retreated, she had to ask him a favor. “The kids wanted me to persuade you to come watch them tomorrow in a play between the two services. Each class puts on a story from the Bible.”
“Why didn’t they ask me themselves?”
“They know you don’t usually go to church, but they were hoping I would convince you to come.”
Noah sucked in a deep breath. “Do Adam, Rusty and Lindsay like going with you every week?”
“Lindsay loves it. Adam knew some of the kids in the youth group and the high school Sunday school class, so he’s enjoyed getting to know them in a different environment. Rusty is taking longer. Truthfully I’m not sure what he thinks. He reminds me of…” She halted when she realized what she was about to say. Her own guard was down, and for a while there had been no taboo subjects for conversation.
“Of me? Is that what you were gonna say? Rusty and I are a lot alike. I can’t deny that.”
She gritted her teeth and squeezed her hands into fists. “No child should feel they have to go through life alone.”
Even from the shadows Noah transmitted his tension, his stance rigid, defensive. “You think Rusty does?”
“Not yet. Not completely. But he’s getting there.”
“And who should he rely on, if not himself?”
“The Lord. No one is alone with the Lord in his life, even when life throws you a curve.”
“Do you really believe that?”
Scorn edged his words and blasted her across the space separating them. “With all my heart. He’s been with me when I contemplated divorcing Tim, when my husband got sick and required my care, when Tim died and left me with a mountain of medical bills to pay, when I held my little boy who cried himself to sleep because his daddy w
as gone.”
“He wasn’t with me when my father was beating me.”
“Was your heart open to the Lord? Did you believe in Him?”
“When my father was sober he expounded on how much he believed in Christ, then he would start drinking and nothing mattered but the bottle. I figured if he was a believer, then the Lord wasn’t real. As far as I could see, his god was alcohol.”
His confession, wrenched from the soul, pierced through her defenses. This was the moment she’d been praying for—the moment she could share the most important thing in her life. “Liquor alters a person’s perceptions. Maybe your dad did believe, but when he was drinking, he wasn’t following what Jesus preached. He became a different man. Don’t judge the Word on your father’s behavior. Judge it for yourself. Bad things happen to everyone. It’s how we deal with them that is important. That’s where the Lord comes in. He’s our comfort and haven in those bad times. We all need a place to seek peace when the world around us is chaotic.”
“I wish it were that simple.” Noah scrubbed his hands down his face, turning away from her, staring into the great room as though the light held answers for him.
“It’s as simple as letting Him into your heart.”
His humorless laugh peppered the air. “I haven’t been able to let anyone into my heart. I don’t think I’m capable of doing that.”
The admission shocked Cara, not because of what he said but because he had admitted it to her. She approached him and laid her hand on his back. “You’re capable of doing anything you set your mind to. You survived an awful childhood and became an upstanding citizen who cares about the community and the people in it. You never gave up on yourself.”
“But I did on others.”
“Did you really? I know how much you care about Alice, Jacob and Peter.”
“But they still don’t know everything. I always hold a part of my…” He whirled around and gripped her arms. “What are you doing to me? I’m no good for you. I’m no good for anyone. Stay away from me.” He jerked away and stormed toward the French doors.
The sound of a door slamming underscored the torment that haunted Noah each day of his life. For a brief moment she had seen his barriers fall away. Not long, but long enough to give her hope she could reach him and help him.
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