Summer's Glory: Seasons of Faith Book One (Arcadia Valley Romance 2)

by Mary Jane Hathaway

  Picking up an empty bucket, Violet resolved to be more focused. And she couldn’t help adding a desperate prayer that there would be no puppies. Please, please, please. She didn’t want to be attached in any way to Silas for the next few months. Or for any length of time at all. One week was hard enough to get through as she felt the layers of pain and bad history peel back like onion skin, exposing the tenderness beneath. With each encounter, she was more and more exposed, vulnerable, and unsure.

  Only a few more days and they could return to their separate circles. It was possible to live in Arcadia Valley without seeing each other too often, she was sure of it. And if it didn’t happen naturally, she’d make sure to avoid him on purpose. She was a good Christian but God didn’t say anything about being friends with an enemy. He said to love them, and she was sure she could do that by wishing Silas well from far away.

  ***

  Silas took Loki inside and told her to lie down on her dog bed. She lifted big brown eyes and let out a soft woof that said she knew she was being punished, but didn’t know why.

  He sighed and reached out to give her a nice scratch behind the ears. “Not your fault, girl. It’s all on me. I got distracted. Just wasn’t thinking.”

  Loki wiggled closer and bumped her head against his hand. She didn’t like to see him upset. That was one of the first things Silas had noticed about Loki. She could read his moods better than Romy or Luke or even his mother when she was alive. Loki could sense anxiety or worry, and she pushed her big body against his leg or nudged his hand with her head. It was as if she wanted to remind him that love existed, that all was not lost.

  And it was true. All was not lost. But it certainly felt like it was sliding down a steep slope, heading for a drop off that would throw him into a ravine. Silas knelt down and let Loki put her head on his shoulder.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.” He knew she couldn’t understand him and she didn’t really care, anyway. Of course Loki would care for her puppies and didn’t mind if she was connected to Violet in any way, but Silas imagined months of sharing vet visits and puppy care with Violet, and his heart dropped. He was barely holding on as it was. Just being around her took more strength than he felt he had. If they could just interact like normal people, everything would be fine, but it seemed they were destined for drama. It seemed every conversation ended with his heart in throat and his hands shaking from nerves. This was probably the first time they had parted amicably. Or almost amicably. He could tell she was incredibly embarrassed and felt the dogs’ misbehavior was all her fault. It was really more of a truce than a friendly encounter.

  Standing up, he gave Loki one last pat and headed for the back door. As he entered the kitchen, Romy walked in.

  “Hey, we made good time with the picking. Want to start up the grill?” She scrubbed her hands at the sink. “I wish I could jump in the shower really fast. You couldn’t hold down the fort while I got cleaned up, could you?”

  “Sure.” Silas wanted to remind Romy that she’d never felt the need to get dressed up for a simple barbeque before. Something had changed and he didn’t even know when it had happened, but he knew Luke was the reason she didn’t want to sit around in sweaty clothes with dirt on her face. “Are Jamie and Violet staying?”

  She turned and gave him a look. “Why did you say it that way?”

  “What way?” He heard the defensiveness in his voice.

  “Like you don’t want them to stay.”

  He took his turn at the sink. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

  Romy leaned against the sink, trying to get him to look at her. “Silas, you can’t lie to me.”

  He turned away and wiped his hands on a towel. “How could a question be a lie?”

  “Huh. I don’t know the answer to that but I do know you sounded weird right then. Whatever problem you have with them, you need to get over it because they just spent the last few hours picking our tomatoes in the hot afternoon sun. They deserve a cold pop and some good grilled sausages.”

  “I have no problem with anybody.” He didn’t look her in the eyes.

  “What happened between you and Violet?”

  He looked at her then, trying to ferret out information from her expression. “Why do you ask? You mean the black eye? That was an accident.”

  Romy fixed him with a long look. “You’ve never been one to talk a lot to me about what you’re thinking, but I was hoping you’d be more open now that now that we’re the only two left.”

  Romy was right. Now that their mother was gone, they needed to stay close, just as she’d have wanted them to be. His first instinct was always to keep his thoughts and fears inside, but she and Luke were his closest friends. He shouldn’t carry every burden alone. “I wasn’t very nice to Violet in high school.”

  “In high school? That was a long time ago.”

  “It wasn’t just normal teasing. I was mean. She hated me.” He held up a hand. “And before you say she needs to get over it, you should know that I’m completely on her side.”

  Romy shook her head. “Which is what? I don’t understand what’s going on. If she hated you, she wouldn’t be here. She wouldn’t talk to you or even give you the time of day. So, there must be something more going on here.”

  He tried to think of a way to explain but realized that even if he repeated their conversations verbatim, it would never fully illuminate everything in his heart. “It’s just that we seemed to be― that maybe we could have―” No, she never wanted to accept his apology. “We weren’t going to be friends, ever, but I was hoping to say I was sorry.”

  Romy frowned. “And why can’t you?”

  “I tried. She didn’t want to hear it.”

  “When? Today?”

  He thought of their first meeting and felt a second wave of shame. “No, a few weeks ago. We ran into each other at Fire and Brimstone. I started to apologize but she shut me down.”

  Romy’s mouth made a little ‘o’ shape. “I think I got it now. You tried to make up to her the first time you exchanged words, probably in front of a bunch of people and she brushed you off.”

  “Not a bunch,” he protested.

  “And you haven’t tried since because you know she hates your guts.”

  “Pretty much.”

  Romy heaved a sigh that said she thought her brother was a few sandwiches short of a picnic.

  “It’s not just that. We’ve tried…” He rubbed a hand over his face. Violet had tried. He had stood there sweating until she’d run off to the office. “Okay, so maybe there’s a chance now that we’ve had a little more time together. But giving her a black eye didn’t help much.”

  “Well, now that you’re going to have puppies together, you’ll have a lot more time to get to know each other better.” Romy laughed as she headed for the bathroom.

  Silas rolled his eyes. “I’ll go out and keep everyone occupied while you get fancied up for Luke.”

  He heard her faint squawk of protest but didn’t pause on his way out the door. Stomping down the porch steps, he headed for the barbeque pit. Luke was already cleaning the grill and fresh mesquite wood chips were stacked in a small mound. They had cooked dinner outside enough times together that Luke was familiar with the process. Although Silas knew the Delis family preferred spit roasting for gatherings, Luke loved a simple backyard barbeque as much as the next guy.

  “Anything we can do to help?” Jamie asked. “I don’t feel very useful over here.” She was stretched out in the hammock, a cold drink in resting on her stomach.

  “Nope. We have it under control,” Luke said, smiling over at her. “Maybe Romy needs help inside.”

  “She’s taking a shower.” She really had looked fine. There was no reason to get dressed up. Nobody was really that dirty. He glanced at Violet sitting beside Jamie, noting how she’d taken off her shoes and was wiggling her toes in the cool grass. With her cut off jean shorts, old T-shirt and hair swept back from her face, she was clearly
comfortable as she was. She didn’t need to dress up. She clearly didn’t care. There was no reason to get fancy for a relaxed outdoor meal with friends after working in the garden.

  For just a moment, Silas wished Violet did care. He wanted her to think of him the way Romy thought of Luke.

  Violet looked up and met his eyes. Her expression changed from thoughtful to wary, then a question crossed her face.

  He forced a smile and turned back to Luke, silently berating himself for being a fool. Apparently he was one of those guys who only wanted what he couldn’t have. What was wrong with him? Allowing himself to develop some kind of crush on her wouldn’t be fair to either of them and would only end in disaster.

  ***

  Violet focused on her bare toes in the lush green grass and tried to calm her pounding heart. The look on Silas’s face had shaken her to the core. Wistfulness, yearning, misery. For the first time she wondered if there was more to his friendly overtures than wanting to apologize for his teenage behavior.

  And if so, how did she feel? It was a question she didn’t need to dwell on, because she already knew the answer. A hundred small moments over the past week slid into one undeniable feeling. Somehow, Silas had become much more than her tormentor from the past.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Should you shield the canyons from the windstorms you would never see

  the true beauty of their carvings.”

  ― Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

  “It was nice of you to stop by.” Silas walked Ron Taylor back through the shop, trying not to see the piles of sawdust he hadn’t cleaned up from that morning’s work. Loki trotted at his side, bumping her head against Silas’s hand, as if she was hoping they were headed to the truck.

  “Thanks for letting me drop in. I just wanted to see where you made that beautiful gun cabinet. It’s a work of art,” Ron said. He looked like a country version of Santa Claus: white beard, twinkling blue eyes and plaid shirt.

  “Thank you,” Silas said. He’d never been good with compliments but it was nice when someone appreciated his work. They walked past Fire and Brimstone’s new counter. It gleamed dully in the bright sunlight shining through the work space, ready for its first coat of lacquer. It was one of his best pieces but Silas felt a dull sense of unease every time he looked at it. Tomorrow he and a few helpers would haul it to the restaurant bright and early for its first fitting. Silas didn’t know if he was feeling anxious about seeing Violet again, or that his week with her was coming to an end.

  “My buddy Gil is gonna call you. He wants something like it, but to go around his wine cellar,” Ron said, pausing at the front door. He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and rocked back on his heels.

  “An entire wine cellar?” Silas asked, trying to imagine what kind of process that would be.

  “Just one of the little ones. You know, ‘bout this high.” He held a hand up to his waist. “Goes along the wall in the kitchen. Real nice cooling systems but they’re usually stainless steel. Kind of an eyesore.”

  He smiled, enjoying the fact he lived in the sort of place that considered stainless steel unattractive. Not a lot of people enjoyed natural wood and even fewer liked reclaimed or salvaged materials. “I appreciate you spreading the word about the business. It means a lot. Especially after I stole from you.”

  “Now hear this, son.” Ron looked stern. “Good judgment comes from experience, and a lotta that comes from bad judgment. You’ve got your head on straight now. Anyway, thanks for giving me the tour. It does my heart good to see your work. You’ve got real talent.”

  “Work I wouldn’t be able to do without my internship, and that came from your letter of recommendation,” Silas said.

  “Oh, no way.” He let out a low chuckle. “One little letter didn’t change anybody’s mind.”

  Silas didn’t argue the point but he knew it helped to have a letter from the man who had pressed burglary charges on him as a teen. The master carpenter had given him a chance that he might not have otherwise. Silas had never hid his years in juvenile detention, but being honest had its drawbacks, like not being considered for any position that involved handling business contracts. Ron had stepped into the gap for him and Silas would never forget it. “Still, I appreciate it.”

  “I’m glad you asked, son. I always believed you’d straighten out. Some people just need a wake-up call.”

  Silas felt a surge of regret that it had taken years for him to answer that call, years that his mother had prayed and worried and waited. “And some people never do need that wake up call.”

  “Maybe.” Ron considered that for a moment. “I think everybody’s gotta have that moment when they realize they’re on the wrong track. It’s part of growing up. Sometimes it happens when you’re young. Sometimes it happens a lot later. What matters is that you listen and correct your course.” He shrugged. “Listen to me. A Christmas tree farm philosopher.”

  “Pretty good advice to me.” Silas glanced around. “Well, I’d better get this place cleaned up before I put on the lacquer.”

  “Right, I’ll let you get to it. You’re coming to dinner tonight at Elise’s, right? I’m bringing corn on the cob and a watermelon.”

  “I sure am. I haven’t decided what to bring yet but it better be good to keep up with her cooking.”

  Ron snapped his fingers. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. It’s been moved to the Tam’s place. Elise and Mrs. Delis are over there helping with the pizza sauce canning, and they thought it would be easier if we all just met there.”

  Silas blinked. He’d accepted Elise Camden’s dinner invitation because he thought it would be an outdoor summer meal at her old farmhouse, a few older people around the table and low key atmosphere. Everything changed when he pictured himself at Mrs. Tam’s for dinner. Then he remembered that Violet was working at the restaurant until late. It wasn’t likely that she’d come home while he was there. Still, he’d make sure he was gone by the time the sun went down. He needed to be at Fire and Brimstone by five anyway. “Sure, that makes sense.”

  Ron gave him a curious look. “You get along okay with them?”

  He hesitated, not sure how to answer the question. Violet didn’t get along with him, that was for sure. “Violet and I… We got off to a rocky start.”

  Grinning, he clapped Silas on the arm. “Same thing with me and Elise. We sure butted heads right from the start. Took us a long time to get past all the hurt and admit what we wanted. You’ll find your way.” He stepped through the door. “Well, see you tonight.”

  Silas lifted a hand and watched him walk toward his truck. His mind was still running to catch up with the idea of little white-haired widow Elise Camden and the old burly Christmas tree farmer together. Silas smiled as he closed the door behind Ron. People liked to say God works in mysterious ways. He supposed that was proof right there.

  ***

  Violet hoped her first impression of the new server wasn’t correct but the red-haired teen seemed a little too confident. Although she was friendly enough, Bernadette didn’t seem like she was a very good listener and waitresses had to hone that skill, or the whole restaurant would suffer.

  “The shift schedule is posted on the wall in the hallway next to the office every Friday,” Violet said.

  “Okay.” Bernadette fidgeted with her apron and gazed out at the tables as if unable to focus on what Violet was saying. Her large green eyes were rimmed with eyeliner and a tattoo peeped out of the edge of her blouse. “So, I don’t work in the office at all?” she asked. “I’m good with numbers. You can ask Silas. He’ll tell you.”

  “Silas?”

  “Yeah, he’s a friend of mine. He told me you guys needed help.” She straightened her shoulders and Violet had the impression she was trying to appear older. “I used to make the deposits at my old job. It’s not a problem.”

  “Uh, no. Thanks, but we’ve got that covered.” Violet wondered how the girl had answered all the interview questions about waitressing but then
thought she’d be doing bookkeeping and bank runs.

  “Well, if you need me, I can do it. After hours, or whatever.”

  Violet nodded. “Thanks, but my mom usually handles all of that.”

  “Is she here?” Bernadette looked around.

  “No, she’s putting up the pizza sauce this week. I’m managing the restaurant for her and then I’ll go back to teaching.”

  “So, you don’t like working here? Silas told me you’re a teacher. I bet you hate having to deal with all this stuff.”

  Violet felt a flash of irritation. The girl was asking irrelevant questions while patrons were streaming through the door. “I like it. But it’s not my job. Now, let’s talk about serving. I know you’ve seen a few servers taking orders without their note pads but I’d like you to write everything down for a while. When you input the orders on the tablet, it shows up in the kitchen. I know it might seem like overkill, but getting an order wrong is a pain for everybody,” Violet said.

  “I guess. But I worked in a doughnut shop for months. I have a great memory.” Bernadette crossed her arms over her chest but still didn’t meet her eyes. Now she was focused on the hostess at the front of the restaurant.

  Violet decided not to point out how getting a doughnut order wrong was different from having to rush a fresh pizza out to a hungry crowd of friends who had every order but one.

  “Just use the notepad for a while. I trust you have a wonderful memory and nothing will ever go wrong. But just in the beginning, I’d like you to use the paper version and then input it.” She softened her words with a smile. She really didn’t envy her mother this part of the job. Somehow working with children was so much easier than working with adults. Or almost adults.

  Violet looked up to see her mother had slipping in the side door and surveying the busy space. A smile touched Mrs. Tam’s lips as she saw the ovens crowded with pizzas and the tables filled. Cooks slid freshly made pizza pies onto serving platters with practiced ease. The lunch time crowd had them hopping, even with the recent hires. She met Violet’s gaze and waved.