“I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done,” Kenzie told him softly.
“I didn’t really do anything.”
“You did a lot. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”
She looked so beautiful sitting there in the firelight that if Allen hadn’t been there, Jared would have kissed her. Then he came back to himself. What was he thinking? This was the woman who had gone to talk Carlos and Tracy Perez out of seeing his house. He turned his head so Kenzie couldn’t see the anger and bitterness he knew was in his eyes. How could she have done that? Tell the Perezes to avoid older homes and not to buy one that only had two bedrooms? This was the woman who had torpedoed the sale of his house. He had to get out of there, before he said something he’d regret.
Jared rose suddenly, avoiding Kenzie’s eye, as Elaine came down the hall. “Thank you so much for dinner,” he told her. “It was wonderful.”
“Thank you for all you did tonight.” Elaine came over and gave him a hug as Kenzie stood.
“Glad to help.”
Jared went over, shook Allen’s hand firmly, then walked to the door. He’d studiously avoided looking at Kenzie, but once he opened the door, he couldn’t stop himself from glancing at where she stood by the couch, watching him with those big eyes. He turned quickly but not before he saw the hurt that was stamped all over her face.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The next morning, the pain medication made Sara sleepy, and after she’d dozed off, Kenzie drove to the medical supply store to pick up a walking boot. Then she headed for Tom’s office, walking briskly down the sidewalk. She had never had a chance to fully explain what had gone on with Tracy Perez, but she was determined to make Tom listen to her today.
As she neared Jared’s Café, her footsteps slowed. Normally, Kenzie wouldn’t have thought twice about going in and thanking Jared again for his help, but she hesitated. Why had he acted so strange just before leaving last night? She’d felt so attracted to him and knew the feeling was mutual, so she was puzzled by Jared’s sudden cool distance as he left.
As she neared the display window, tears came to her eyes as Kenzie remembered how Jared had swept up her little daughter and carried her out of the woods. And she’d been so touched when Jared had driven them to the hospital.
All evening he had been so solicitous of Sara that Kenzie had been genuinely moved. And when they’d come home from the hospital, there had been a genuine camaraderie—a special warm connection—between them, especially when Jared held her as she cried. She remembered the comfort of his strong arms. But his abrupt departure made her wonder.
Had she only imagined there had been something more than friendship between them? She could have sworn Jared was interested in her. And yet, without warning, some switch had flipped—leaving Jared stiff and silent before leaving so suddenly.
With a sigh, Kenzie looked through the window. Jared had finished the display. There were poofy billows of snow surrounding a great shining lake of tinfoil. Delicate snowflakes hung from threads. To the side were several pairs of children’s ice skates—one white pair and one black. Kenzie was impressed—Jared had done a really good job. Then Kenzie’s breathing became rapid and shallow as she looked closer.
The black pair of skates had green laces.
It was impossible! Kenzie’s hand went to her mouth, and she stepped closer, her nose nearly touching the window.
Could it be?
Her head told her to walk away, give herself time to think, but impulsively Kenzie forced her unsteady legs to carry her to the door and pushed it open. In a haze, she searched for Jared, but he was either gone or in the back. She hurried past Scott, who was busily wiping down a booth, and went to the window, where she stopped with a groan. The heavy corrugated cardboard which provided the backdrop completely hid the display from view inside the café. Unless she stood on a chair, it would be impossible to reach the skates.
But she couldn’t leave without knowing for sure.
Kenzie glanced behind her and saw Pam, who smiled a hello. She didn’t recognize the young man making sandwiches but realized it was a major stroke of luck that Jared wasn’t there. His absence would make things so much easier. As discreetly as possible, Kenzie took a chair from a table and put it next to the back of the display.
Scott had been eyeing her curiously and finally walked over, an inquisitive expression on his innocent face. “What are you doing?”
“Oh, hi, Scott!”
Expressionless, he stood waiting for her answer.
“I, uh, there are some ice skates in the window, and I need to look at them.”
“I’ve been helping Jared with the display. Why do you want to see the skates?” Scott tilted his head, and soft brown hair fell over his forehead.
“To see if there’s writing on the bottom of one of them.”
This explanation seemed to satisfy Scott, and he nodded as if her words made sense.
“Could you hold the chair so it doesn’t tip when I reach over and get the skates?”
He nodded. Wearing a look of deep concentration, Scott gripped the chair tightly as though it was making a break for it. A customer came in, and Kenzie waited until Pam was engaged in taking his order before making her move. She leapt on the chair, leaned over the backdrop, and grabbed the skates. She ran a hand over the worn black leather and touched the long green laces before turning one of the skates over.
Nothing.
A weird sense of disappointment flooded her. Still, it would have been a one in a million coincidence for these to be the same skates she had given Tyrone. She turned over the second skate and caught her breath.
There it was.
The words she had painstakingly scratched into the bottom of Tyrone’s skates so many years ago. The spidery handwriting read, “Best friends are forever.” Kenzie still remembered how long it had taken to scratch the letters—her hand had ached as she went over them again and again until she was sure the writing would last. Scott looked up at her, still clinging to the chair in case it decided to make any sudden moves.
Kenzie whispered, “The writing’s still there.” Of course that would make no sense to Scott, but it was the best she could do. It was difficult for her to wrap her head around her discovery. These were Tyrone’s skates. For real. Suddenly, her legs weakened, and she had to put out a hand to steady herself. But how had they come to be here? Were they Jared’s? Or had he possibly gotten them from a secondhand store? Her stomached lurched at the possibility. For some reason she wanted them to be Jared’s. But how could they be? Kenzie shook her head. His name was Jared Rawlins. Yes, Tyrone had said he wanted to change his first name, but that didn’t explain his last name.
“Are you okay?” Scott watched her anxiously.
“Yes, I—I’m fine. I’ll put these back.” Then she stopped. “Scott, you said you helped Jared with the display—did he tell you where he got the skates?”
The man nodded. “He said a girl gave them to him when he was a boy.”
Numbness went through her body like a shock, and she closed her eyes briefly. Scott said nothing, waiting stoically until Kenzie pulled herself together. As she stood on the chair, leaned over, and carefully replaced the skates, Scott held onto the seat for all he was worth. When she hopped down, he picked up his basin while Kenzie returned the chair to its table.
“Hey! What are you doing?” The loud voice came from a husky man in a grubby T-shirt.
“I cleared the table, but I didn’t wipe it,” Scott explained. “I stopped to help Kenzie.” He bent over the table with his cloth.
“You can’t wipe the table while I’m sitting here!” The man’s face turned red as he glowered at Scott. People turned to stare.
Scott’s brows drew together, and he looked confused. “But it’s dirty. I’m supposed to wipe the tables before people sit down.”
“You’re not going to wipe it with that dirty cloth when I’m sitting here. I don’t know why they hire people like y
ou to work with the public. Get out of here, will ya?”
Hurrying over, Kenzie put a hand on Scott’s shoulder. He turned, his troubled eyes looking up at her. “It’s all right, Scott. You can wipe the table when he’s done. Why don’t you go wipe that table over there.” She pointed at a recently vacated booth.
“Okay.” Scott seemed relieved at being told what to do and left.
Bending over, Kenzie hissed at the man, “Scott was just trying to do his job.”
“He was gonna wipe the table while I was sitting here,” the man blustered.
“And you could have told him nicely that it was all right and he could wipe it later. But no, you had to be a bully and shout at him.”
Aware that everyone nearby was listening, the man tried to save himself. “Who are you? A manager? All I did was try to stop that moron from wiping the table while I was sitting here. If this is the way you treat customers, I’ll leave, and I won’t be back.”
“If this is the way you treat young men who are simply doing their job, I’d say that was an excellent idea.”
The man glared at Kenzie then stood, shoving his chair back with a scraping noise. He took a couple of steps, then came back, grabbed his sandwich, and with a defiant sneer, strode out.
Kenzie’s face was flushed as she headed for the door. On her way, a woman reached out and touched her arm. “Good for you, dearie.”
Her hand was on the door when someone called, “Kenzie!” She turned. Jared was walking toward the display case, carrying a tray of fudge nestled in ruffled white papers. Apparently he’d been in the back room.
“You’re not leaving without getting some fudge, are you?”
The front door began to open, startling Kenzie, who still had her hand on it. She stumbled, then recovered as a young couple walked in. The young man apologized profusely, as did Kenzie. Then she went to the display case.
“Have you been here long?” Jared asked. “I was in the back, cutting fudge.” His black eyes, set beneath straight, dark brows, watched her intently.
Thank goodness he’d missed her little scene with the redneck. Kenzie couldn’t take her eyes from his face. His expression was so different from the cool, distant expression he’d worn last night.
“No, not too long,” she said faintly, putting a hand on the case to steady herself.
He gazed at her curiously, his brow furrowed. “You’re kind of pale. Are you all right? Do you want something to eat?”
Kenzie blinked. Food. He thought she needed food. She glanced around. Where was an escape hatch when you needed one? “Thanks, but I’m fine.” Kenzie couldn’t help herself. She studied Jared’s face, trying to picture Tyrone’s dark-brown hair. Jared’s hair was cut fairly short, but it was about the same color. And his eyes. So dark. They definitely could be Tyrone’s eyes.
Setting down the tray, Jared asked, “You’re staring. Have I got something on my face?”
“No, I was just—” Her words trailed off.
“Are you sure you’re okay? Sara’s all right, isn’t she?”
“Oh, yes, she’s fine.” Still Kenzie gazed into those eyes—trying to uncover the face of a little boy.
Turning, Jared glanced behind him, then back at Kenzie. “Are you looking at me, or something else? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
A faint smile crossed her face. “I think I have.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Something had happened; Jared was sure of it. He watched Kenzie through the glass doors. She stopped on the sidewalk and turned back toward the café, her face looking strangely anguished. He raised an arm to wave, but just then she turned away. She probably hadn’t seen him.
What was up? Kenzie had acted so peculiar—flustered even. And she was mighty pretty when flustered. The blue blouse she wore did amazing things to her eyes, making them shine a little deeper and transform his thoughts. But he had to stop thinking that way. He stared out the window again.
Was Kenzie having some sort of mild, post-traumatic breakdown after her scare with Sara? She’d seemed fine last night except for those few minutes in the hallway. Jared recalled the way she’d looked at him—almost as if she were attracted to him.
Then it hit him. She was acting this way because of the way he’d left. He’d definitely hurt her by acting so cool. Last night, he’d let himself become upset at Kenzie’s duplicity, yet today he’d acted all warm and friendly. Jared sighed. He’d thought Kenzie was a regular Jekyll and Hyde, but actually he was the one that deserved that title. He wasn’t sure how he could feel angry one moment then mesmerized another. No wonder she was flustered and puzzled. He couldn’t understand his behavior himself.
Jared slid open the doors of the display case and started arranging the fudge. Last night at Kenzie’s house had been great—at least, after they’d gotten back from the hospital. He couldn’t remember when he’d felt so at home. While he worked, Jared recalled something humorous Kenzie had said and smiled to himself. She really was fun and witty. He could really have been interested in her if she hadn’t been so devious.
Finished, Jared closed the case and took the tray to the back, mentally shaking his head at himself. He could have been interested in Kenzie? Who was he trying to kid? He would have asked Kenzie out in a heartbeat if he hadn’t found out what she was really like. It bothered him that he’d let himself get so carried away last night. For most of the evening, Jared had forgotten her underhanded machinations. Once they’d left the hospital and returned to the house, he’d let himself get caught up in the sound of Kenzie’s voice, the sparkle in her eyes, and the curve of her lips.
And yet . . . When they were at church, Kenzie had asked him for a chance to explain, and what had he done? Cut her off. He should have given her a chance. That would have been the fair thing to do.
Jared took over at the sandwich counter, glad to be busy. He had to stop thinking “what if” and quit imagining there was some explanation that would reconcile Kenzie’s treachery with the person he had seen last night—someone warm, pretty, and personable. It would be best to put all thoughts of McKenzie Forsberg out of his head.
A few hours later, Jared went to the back. He was taking off his hat and apron when Pam walked in and pulled out a box of white paper sacks.
“Lucky you to be leaving early,” she said, grabbing a large stack of the bags.
“Tom asked if I’d help him put up some crown molding.”
“Sounds like fun!” she teased, pushing the box back. “Well, have a good time.”
After Pam left, Jared looked after her. Pam was fun. Nice too. And she got along with Corey. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t date her more often than the once-in-a-while dinner and an occasional movie. He pulled on his coat.
Once outside, he called Corey, who was at a friend’s house, to let his son know he’d be there soon. Tom came out of Dahlquist Realty, saw him, and waved.
Jared crossed the street. “I’m on my way to pick up Corey.”
“Great. I’m on my way home myself. Say, I have some news on your house.”
“I hope it’s not more bad news.” Jared’s voice sounded bleak even to himself.
Tom was consoling. “I know you’ve been anxious, but I have been working on it.”
“So has Kenzie.” Jared’s voice was bitter. “I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have said that. I guess I’m just frustrated.”
“I understand.”
Jared went on, “I don’t know how she could have done what she did.” He was about to add a few choice words like underhanded and devious, but this was Tom’s sister. He might rise to Kenzie’s defense even if her position was indefensible. “It wasn’t right, you know—for her to deliberately talk Tracy and Carlos out of seeing my home—killing any chance I had of selling it.” Jared spread out his hands to underscore his words. “And then to give them addresses and descriptions of other homes!”
Tom neatly sidestepped the issue. “Let me tell you my news. I have a couple who’d like to see your
house tomorrow—and I have another couple who might want to see it.”
That sounded hopeful. “I’ll keep my fingers crossed.” Then he said, “So I’ll meet you at the Steadman house after I take Corey home and get him a snack.”
“Sounds good.”
Jared honked when he pulled into the driveway.
Corey came out and hopped in the backseat. “Hi, Dad!”
“Have a good time?”
“Yeah!”
“Did you play video games the whole time?”
“Not all of the time.”
“Most of it, I bet. Sounds like you’d better bring your homework and finish it while I’m helping Tom.”
“Oh, Dad—”
“Don’t ‘Oh, Dad’ me. You could have been done.”
At the house, they changed clothes, and both of them ate some apple slices with peanut butter. As Corey crunched away, Jared reached over and ruffled his son’s hair. “You gave me quite a scare last night.”
“I was scared when Sara couldn’t walk.”
“You did the right thing by staying with her. Do you like Sara?”
Corey turned bashful. “She’s all right. She talks a lot though.”
It was hard not to laugh. “What did you guys talk about?”
“Sara talked about her mom and how excited she was about moving here until she found out you’d bought the house she wanted.”
Jared rubbed his chin.
“Sara said her dad left because he liked someone better than her mom.”
Ouch. That had to hurt. Jared was curious. “What else did she tell you?”
“Um.” He thought a moment. “Oh, she said her grandpa hurt her mom’s feelings.”
Not exactly a surprise. Jared was well enough acquainted with Allen to know he’d been born without the tact filter that most people employed when talking to others. Allen always spoke off the top of his head, spouting whatever he happened to be thinking—no matter how inappropriate or hurtful.
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