Twist Of Faith

by Darlene Fredette

  Nick looked in the hole. Grains of dirt and splinters of wood rested at the bottom. “Was this the only loose board?” He lifted the wooden plank lying beside the gaping hole.

  When Nick was first approached by Faith Witherspoon regarding the renovation, he had done a preliminary check, only because his brother’s family had lived in the house for a while. Nick wanted to make sure no damage had occurred during his family’s stay. At that time, the attic floor was in good condition.

  “I checked each one myself,” Henry said, coming to stand a foot away. “That board was the only one needing repair. I suspect the damage was done by whoever hid the box.”

  Nick turned the wooden plank in his hands. The nails were bent, the top was scratched, and the edges were crushed. He believed a crowbar had been used to pry the floorboard, but the damage to the plank was considerable, meaning the person who lifted the board had difficulty prying loose the wood. A man, using a small amount of force, could remove the floorboard easily. A woman could, too. However, a woman in feeble condition, such as Faith Witherspoon, would struggle to accomplish the feat.

  Two hours later, Nick scurried about the kitchen, stirring a pot of boiling tomato sauce and setting the table. He wiped his hands on the dishcloth and spotted Katrina stretching her long legs on the sofa. “Hey, sleepyhead. You have perfect timing. Supper is almost ready.”

  “How long have I been out?” She rubbed her eyes.

  Looking up from his tasks, he saw how beautiful she looked with disheveled hair. “A couple of hours. You needed the rest.” Nick scooped the steaming spaghetti onto the plates.

  “I’m starving.” Katrina slipped her arms around his midriff and rested her head on his back. “Supper smells delicious.”

  “Hopefully, it tastes as good.” He chuckled. Nick dropped the spoon in the bowl and gently squeezed her hand. I’d cook everyday if it meant having her arms around me. “I’m no master chef, but I make a tasty spaghetti and meatballs.” He nudged her hip with his. “Sit, I’m serving.”

  She sat at the table and poured two glasses of wine, lifting one to her mouth for a small sip. “Where did this food come from? I didn’t have those ingredients in my cupboards.” She dabbed a napkin to her mouth.

  “I popped out while you were sleeping. I thought my cupboards were pathetic, but yours are worse.” Frowning, he waved the spoon in the air. “All you had was bread, sugar, and a box of cereal.”

  “Breakfast is the most important meal.” She pointed her fork. “And Frankie keeps me well supplied in leftovers.”

  Nick went to the fridge and took out a container. “I made fruit salad, though I’m sure it’s not as good as Frankie’s.”

  A half hour later, Katrina pushed aside her empty plate and rested her elbows on the table. “What do I do now?”

  Nick’s cooking and casual chit-chat hadn’t swayed Katrina’s thoughts for long. “What’s your heart telling you?” Looking across the table, he saw her biting her lip accompanied by a brooding expression. He couldn’t imagine what she was going through.

  “My heart aches, and I don’t know what to think or how to respond. I’m thankful to know my parents were happy together. If I found out their fairytale romance had been a farce, I would have been crushed.” She pushed her chair from the table.

  Shaking his head, Nick held up a hand. “You stay put. This is my kitchen tonight.” He cleared the table and served fruit salad for dessert. “I’m proud of you. You held your composure and were very gracious to Frankie’s mother. You’ve learned a great deal about your family’s past and remained calm.”

  “Just on the outside, I’m a complete mess inside.” She laughed, and then slumped in her chair.

  Nick felt his heart kick into gear. He’d witnessed the pain in her eyes when he drove her home from Frankie’s, but now her smile was wide and a flush of pink stained her cheeks. Katrina touched his heart like no other woman, not even the woman who had run off with his business partner. Katrina may have entered his life unexpectedly…

  A memory crossed his mind, and Nick’s thoughts wavered. You won’t cast off my granddaughter as easily. Those words had been spoken by Faith Witherspoon when she left his office so many months ago. Was Katrina’s sudden appearance in his life really unexpected, or part of her grandmother’s clever plan all along? “You handled today like a rock star. I don’t think there’s a hurdle you can’t conquer.”

  “Gram raised me well.” Katrina’s smile faltered. “She must have been devastated by my mother’s promiscuous love affair.” Her spoonful of peaches and pears paused in midair. “Gram didn’t believe in premarital sex, and she wasn’t afraid to voice her opinion.”

  He sat beside her. “Your grandmother was a force to be reckoned with. I know from personal experience.”

  Eyes wide, Katrina straightened. “What’s your connection to my grandmother?”

  Where to start? “She showed up on my doorstep, requesting my contracting services. I thought that’s how you knew about my business.” Nick swallowed the last spoonful of pears from his bowl.

  “I didn’t even know I owned the house until the reading of Gram’s will. Her attorney indicated a clause that you—specifically—were to be in charge of this renovation, and I had to be here.” Katrina pointed downward.

  As he leaned back in his chair, Nick chuckled. “Like you, she wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

  “Giving up wasn’t in her vocabulary, or mine.” Katrina picked up the plates from the table.

  But he shot to his feet and grabbed them from her hands.

  She followed him to the sink. “I don’t understand why Gram was so insistent on you handling this project.”

  The puzzle pieces were beginning to come together. He set the dishes into the soapy water and kept his voice casual. “Do you know about the couple she let stay in your house?”

  Katrina nodded and leaned against the counter.

  “Well, that was my brother and his family. I’ll be forever grateful to her for giving them a place to stay.” With quick efficiency, Nick washed the dishes and pulled the dishtowel from her hands. “She also gifted my parents with the cruise of their dreams. Maybe she saw my family as a charity case.”

  Katrina shook her head. “Gram had the biggest heart, but she didn’t throw her money around carelessly. Your brother’s situation would have triggered her emotions, which were rarely exposed when in business mode. Family was Gram’s weak spot.”

  Nick understood. Everyone possessed vulnerability. Who would have guessed his weakness would be Faith Witherspoon’s granddaughter? “I guess I was next on her list. Your grandmother found out about my failing business and wanted to pay off my debts. When I turned her down, I was surprised by her renovation suggestion.”

  “I can predict your response.” She grabbed the dishtowel from his hand, twirled it, and then flicked the towel at his butt. “You yelled, stomped your feet, and flared your chest.”

  “No…maybe.” He laughed. “Faith had done more than enough for my family.” The humor dwindled and neglected responsibility kicked in. “I’m the oldest. I should have been the one to support my brother when he lost his job, and send my parents on vacation. I could have done all that…if I hadn’t been stupid and lost everything I had worked so hard for.” Old resentment flared, and Nick banged a fist on the cupboard.

  Katrina placed a hand on his arm. “What happened to your company wasn’t your fault. I’m sure your family understands.”

  Nick shrugged aside her hand. Guilt tore his heart. “You grandmother went behind my back and paid some of my suppliers. I got angry and accused her of being a busybody.” He ran a hand over his chin. “I feel terrible. I knew she wasn’t well because she was quite feeble, but had I known she had such little time left—”

  “She liked you. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have arranged for me to be here. Gram wanted to help and in the end, she won.” She folded the towel and then tossed it on the counter.

  The older w
oman definitely got her way. Nick wondered what else Faith Witherspoon had been up to during her visit.

  “What I don’t understand is why Gram didn’t tell me she travelled here. She didn’t say anything about meeting you or your family.” Tears watered Katrina’s eyes. “And why didn’t she tell me about Samuel?”

  Tears again? His gut tightened. Nick placed a hand on her back and steered her toward the sofa. “I don’t know why Faith kept so many secrets, but she righted her faults before she passed. I truly believe her intentions were to make sure you discovered everything.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  He tapped the box on the coffee table. “She’s the one who put your mother’s cedar box in the attic.”

  Katrina widened her gaze. “She couldn’t have—”

  Nick returned to the kitchen for a bottle of wine and two glasses. He poured Katrina a glass of wine. “I did a preliminary review of the house when I first met your grandmother. The attic didn’t have any loose floorboards. Someone hid the box after I had been there. No one else had access to the house until you arrived a few weeks ago. Faith wanted you to find the box—and the truth. She knew this renovation was the way for that to happen.”

  There was no proof to his explanation, but he had a pretty good hunch he was correct. Faith Witherspoon was a sly woman. He hoped his explanation would ease Katrina’s anxiety over her grandmother’s silence. He also prayed that by coming to the older woman’s defense, he would earn Faith’s forgiveness. His shoulders carried a heavy weight from his actions toward her.

  Frowning, she raised her hands in the air. “Gram should have just told me about the house, her excursion here, and about Samuel.”

  He didn’t want to bring up the subject of her real father, but he felt she’d have to come to terms with the truth. “Speaking of Samuel, how do you feel about him?”

  Katrina sipped her wine. “He hasn’t contacted me. The rejection hurts.” Tears filled the corners of her eyes. “A part of me wants to forget about him as he has done. Then there’s another part of me that wants to know him.”

  Nick missed his parents and made a promise to himself to visit more often. He lifted her hand, rubbing her palm with his thumb. Her skin was silky soft beneath his caress. “What do you want to do?”

  “I can’t walk away and ignore the fact that my biological father could be out there somewhere.”

  “I know someone who might help.” He paused and then continued after seeing her raised eyebrow. “After my company crumbled, I hired an investigator to find my underhanded business partner, hoping to get my money back. He found the rat out west.”

  “Did you confront your partner?” She placed her wine glass on the table and sat straight.

  “They had been living the high-life on my money, but when the cash ran out, she left him. He’s now up to his eyeballs in debt and working for a small construction firm. His current demise is my justice.” This was the first time he had told this story. Saying the words out loud gave him a smidgen of satisfaction. His initial instinct had been to confront his old friend, but knew it wouldn’t remove the destruction already done. Nick shook his head. “Anyway, I still have the investigator’s number. I can ask him to find Samuel Fisher.”

  Katrina nodded. “Thank you, Nick. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  Nick released her hand and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. He leaned forward and pressed a brief kiss on her lips. “I told you, I’m not going anywhere.” A soft scent of roses drifted past his nose. For only a moment, he hesitated before touching his lips to hers again. Happiness rushed his stomach.

  A pillow fell to the floor. Katrina pressed closer. His other hand slipped from her hair to wrap tightly around her body.

  She whispered his name against his lips. “Nick, I have to tell you something—”

  He hushed her with a lingering kiss. His pulse throbbed in desire. “The time is getting late and you’ve had a rough day,” he murmured over her lips. He forced his legs to stand. Whatever she had to tell him could wait. His concern was for her and her well-being. “Get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.” Nick bent to place a kiss on her forehead. He reached in his pants pocket for his keys and grabbed his jacket from the hook by the door. “Sweet dreams, my love.”

  ****

  Early the next morning, Katrina went jogging and then brought the crew their tea and coffee. She returned to the cabin and called Glen. “Did you know about Gram’s connection to Nick and his family?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “She also hid a box in the floor boards of the house. The cedar container had love letters for my mother. The man who sent them…” Katrina inhaled a breath. “He’s my real father.”

  Glen’s lack of explanation forced her to continue. “You’re the closest person I have to family, other than a biological father out there somewhere. Why didn’t you tell me about Gram’s travels and what she was up to?”

  “I’m sorry.” Glen response was short.

  He didn’t admit knowing what had been going on and he didn’t deny knowing. He quickly swayed the conversation to business. Katrina allowed him the reprieve. She would get the truth soon enough.

  By the lunch hour, Katrina was bored. Frankie had been placed on bed rest by her doctor yesterday, so she’d be a no-show today. A fact she’d learned in a phone call last night after Nick had left. Frankie knew a small version of what was going on from Nick while they had been making sandwiches with the children, and learned the rest from her mother.

  “I need guidance.” Katrina had turned to her friend for an opinion. “How do I handle this crazy situation?” She wiped away a tear before it fell.

  “Track down Samuel and give him a piece of your mind for not acknowledging your existence.”

  Anger, hurt, and disappointment flooded her thoughts. Katrina may take her friend’s advice, but Samuel had to be found before a thrashing could take place.

  Later that afternoon, she strolled around the yard, idly viewing the plantings, when Dean offered to put her to work. Giving her a paintbrush, he led her to the dining room. She was high on a ladder painting the crown molding when Nick arrived.

  “What are you doing?”

  Spotting his roaming gaze on her bright blue T-shirt and pink shorts made her stomach flip. Her foot wobbled on the step.

  He rushed forward, placed a hand on her bare leg, and tightened his fingers around her calf.

  Did he not know his touch only made her tremble more? “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m painting.” She held up the brush and a glob of white paint dripped onto her T-shirt. “Don’t blame Dean. He found me lingering in the yard. Thankfully, he found something for me to do before I uprooted a dead rose bush without gloves on. I think he figured painting would be a safer job.”

  Nick lifted the can of paint from the ladder’s hook. “Whose idea was to let you climb a seven-foot ladder to paint the ceiling trim?”

  His protective attitude made her pulse flutter. “That was my idea. I wore my hardhat.” She tapped a finger to the top of her head and then shifted her feet on the step. The ladder wobbled.

  “Can you please come down from there? You’re making me nervous.” He held the ladder as she climbed down.

  She missed a step and lost her balance. The muscle in her leg tightened. She gasped in pain.

  “Hang on.” Nick gathered her in his arms and set her on the floor.

  Katrina rested against him, inhaling his soapy sandalwood scent. His gaze held hers as he adjusted her hardhat. That gesture was so sweet, she leaned forward and kissed him. His response came quickly. She didn’t want the kiss to end, but the hardhat made movement difficult. She took a step backward, her breath in sputtered gasps.

  Nick rested his forehead on hers. “I wanted to tell you something important yesterday, but with everything that happened the timing wasn’t right.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “I’m all yours now.”

  “What the heck?” He
abruptly stepped back and stared at his clean white shirt smeared in white paint.

  Katrina held up the dripping paintbrush between their bodies. “Oops.” She giggled.

  Nick lifted the brush from her hand and placed it on the paint can. He reached for her hands and held them tight. “From the moment you walked into my life, you created nothing but havoc in my head and my heart. You’ve awakened me from a deep sleep, making me believe in trust and love again.”

  She felt her pulse soar and plummet at the same time. Oh no! “Nick, before you say anything else, I must tell you—”

  He shook his head. “We agreed to take our relationship slow because you’re returning to Paris, but this is your home.” Grinning, he stretched his arms wide. “Please, let me into your heart and consider a life here, with me.”

  Yes, I’ll stay. I love you. She longed to say the words out loud. Her heart said yes, but her head said no.

  Dean coughed from the doorway. “Nick, I’m sorry to interrupt. We’ve got a situation with the water pipes in the basement.”

  Nick nodded. “I’ll be right there.”

  Katrina took a step backward. She avoided Nick’s gaze by wiping the paint from her shirt.

  “We’re not done,” Nick said after Dean left the room. “I have a special evening planned. I made dinner reservations at the finest restaurant in town. We’ll talk more then. I’ll plead my case on why you should stay, and you can finally tell me your little secret.” Leaning forward, he landed a passionate kiss on her lips. “And stay off that ladder.”

  Katrina stared at the empty doorway, fighting the urge to run to the cabin, pack her bags, and catch the next flight to Paris. She couldn’t deny being in Montreal soothed her loneliness. She had found comfort here…and Nick. But move permanently? Maybe she could stay a while longer…until after the sale of the house, and she’d love to be here for the birth of Frankie’s baby.

  Her fingers trembled. She picked up a clean paintbrush, dipped the tip into the can of Mochachino paint, and then slapped the brush onto the wall. When she completed painting, she dropped the brush on the can and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. Katrina walked to the middle of the room and focused her gaze to see the outcome of her hard work. She loved the color, and easily imagined having family dinners in here—her, Nick, and a couple of children. They’d have two kids, maybe three. Nick would be the perfect husband and a terrific father.