Seeking His Love

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Seeking His Love Page 2

by Carrie Turansky


  As an actress, Rachel had been trained to observe and interpret body language, and this was the perfect time to put those skills to work.

  Hannah smiled, approval obvious in her soft gray eyes. Lilly watched with an open, pleasant expression, her head tipped thoughtfully to the left, her chin-length black hair falling against her cheek. Melanie, on the other hand, sent out a negative vibe with a calculating gaze that flicked back and forth from Cam to Rachel. Ross tapped a pen quietly on his knee, a slight smile on his lips as he gazed at Rachel through his dark-rimmed glasses. Cam sat back, his mouth set in a firm line, daring her to change his mind.

  She pulled in a deep breath and made eye contact with each person around the table. Time to state the facts and pray for grace. “There are three reasons why we would be an excellent group to share your facility.

  “Number one, we can dramatically increase your exposure to the community. The parents of our students often drive a distance to bring their children to classes, rehearsals and performances. And they usually wait in the building until their children are finished. Those parents would be potential new customers.”

  Interest lit the faces around the table.

  “Number two, we want to rent the auditorium, two classrooms and an office. That will greatly increase your income and give you more funds for improvements. Or you could use the extra money to decrease the amount of rent each of you is paying.”

  Hannah nodded and smiled, exchanging a look with Lilly.

  “Number three, we provide an outstanding program that benefits youth and families and strengthens the community. And a stronger community benefits everyone.

  “At N.C.Y.T. we teach more than music and drama skills,” she continued. “We place a high priority on developing character and teaching values like commitment, discipline and confidence. Your association with us will enhance your reputation and build even stronger bridges to the community.”

  Ross leaned forward, his expression warm and encouraging.

  Her hopes rose. At least she seemed to have found a few advocates among the group.

  “As leaders, we seek to be role models for our students so they can see how to live out their faith and values in everyday life. We believe N.C.Y.T. is a unique program that’s making a positive impact.”

  Cam cocked his brows at a skeptical angle. “Those are noble goals, but I don’t see how filling our building with kids is going to have a very positive impact on us.”

  Melanie nodded, her sour expression reflecting Cam’s. “How many kids are we talking about?”

  “We have forty to fifty students in our after-school and summer-camp programs and about thirty involved in the musicals.” Rachel’s stomach tightened as she watched their response to the numbers.

  “I know that sounds like a large group, but let me give you an example of the kind of kids there are in our program. Last July a crisis hit the N.C.Y.T. family. Jordan Webster’s sister, Hope, was born with a serious heart defect, and she needed an expensive surgery. Medical insurance covered only a portion of the expenses.

  “When the kids heard about it, they wanted to help. They planned two extra performances of our summer musical. Then they contacted the newspaper, promoted it all over the area and raised more than $8,000 to help the Websters. Little Hope had the surgery and she’s doing well. And those kids will never forget how great it feels to be a part of saving someone’s life.”

  Hannah nodded, her eyes shining. “I attended one of those performances.”

  “I remember reading about it in the paper,” Lilly added. “Quite a contrast to most of the stories you read about kids these days.”

  “They sound like a great group,” Ross added.

  Rachel nodded. “We’re a caring community, and those are the kind of neighbors you’ll have if you’ll partner with us and provide a new location for N.C.Y.T.”

  Cam looked away and cleared his throat. “Okay. We have the information we need to discuss this among ourselves. Would you mind stepping out in the hall?”

  His dismissal caught her by surprise, but she quickly recovered. “Of course.” She picked up her purse and headed toward the door.

  Had she convinced them? Would they allow her to rent the space she needed? Uncertainty nibbled away at her confidence as she walked out of the room. Perhaps her persuasive power hadn’t done the trick this time, at least it didn’t seem to have any affect on someone as hard-hearted as Cameron McKenna.

  Chapter Three

  Rachel strode to the drinking fountain and took a long sip of cool water. It quenched her thirst, but did little to ease her tension. She glanced at her watch and back at the closed door of Lilly’s gallery. What was taking so long? She’d been out in the hall for at least fifteen minutes.

  She blew out a deep breath and looked at the colorful banners overhead. They reminded her of hand-painted Chinese kites. Each one depicted a different Washington wildflower or bird. They added a touch of whimsy, softening the old, school atmosphere and giving the building the feeling of an artists’ village.

  She slipped down the hall and tiptoed up to the door. Leaning closer, she tried to make sense of the muffled conversation. The sound of footsteps approached. She quickly stepped back and smoothed down her hair.

  The door opened. Hannah looked out and sent her a quick wink and a smile. “Come in and join us.”

  “Thanks.” Rachel returned to her seat and looked across at Cam. A frown creased his forehead as he focused on his yellow legal pad.

  “We’re sorry we kept you waiting so long,” Hannah said as she settled in her chair. “We needed to iron out a few details.” The older woman’s glance flashed to Cam. “We’ve agreed to lease you the space you asked for.”

  Relief rushed through Rachel. “Thank you. I’m sure it will be a good arrangement for all of us.”

  “We want to make certain of that.” Cam lifted his gaze to meet hers. “The first six months will be a trial period. If things work out, we’ll extend the lease. But if the kids cause problems, or the schedule is too intrusive, you’ll have to leave at the end of the year.”

  Rachel swallowed. Was there room to negotiate a longer lease? A search of Cam’s stern expression told her this was the only offer she would receive.

  “I understand, and I assure you we’ll do our best to be good neighbors.”

  Cam’s only reply was a brief nod, then he moved on to discuss a landscaping project for the property and asked for a volunteer to contact garden centers for donations.

  Rachel sat up straighter. She didn’t know much about plants, but she wouldn’t mind making a few calls. “I could work on that. There’s a plant nursery just down the road from where I’m staying.”

  Ross nodded at Cam, apparently pleased by her offer.

  Cam looked at her over the top of his reading glasses. “Do you have a connection there?”

  “No, but they might be willing to help. What kind of plants are you looking for?”

  Cam consulted his pad and reeled off a list. Rachel took notes as fast as she could, abbreviating some of the names and praying she’d remember what she meant.

  Lilly smiled and slid a piece of paper across the table. “A friend who’s a landscape architect did the design for us. He arranged for a donation of all the trees. The plants on Cam’s list are bushes and perennial flowers.”

  Rachel nodded. “I’ll contact the nursery right away.”

  “That would be wonderful.” Hannah smiled, looking like a happy mother who had settled a disagreement between her children.

  Melanie cleared her throat. “I could make a few calls. My uncle works as a city planner for Bellingham. I’m sure he has connections with several nurseries.”

  Rachel studied the woman who sat next to Cam. She looked a bit older than Rachel, probably in her mid-thirties. Though she had striking blue-green eyes, her large mouth and longish nose dominated her face. She wore her dark blond hair in a casual upswept style with a few tendrils hanging loose around her face.
With a lift of her penciled brows, Melanie gazed back at Rachel, telegraphing a message that seemed to say, “You had better watch yourself. You’re not one of us yet.”

  Cam made a note on his pad. “Okay. Why don’t you both work on it and get back to us.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Rachel was ready for the challenge and not about to be outdone. She’d find someone to donate those plants and prove she was just as capable as Melanie Howard, or anyone else.

  Cam strolled out the door of Lilly’s gallery after the co-op meeting. The group’s conversation faded until all he heard was his footsteps on the tile floor. He returned to the frame shop, unlocked the door and flipped on the lights.

  His shoulders sagged as he crossed the room and laid his pad, glasses and pen on the workbench. It was done. Rachel Clark and her kids were coming, and there was nothing he could do about it.

  With a shake of his head, he grabbed the stack of orders from the shelf behind him and squinted at the clock. It was after nine. He should go home and get some rest. But that would be tough with the conflicting thoughts churning through his mind. Maybe if he worked for an hour or two he could clear his head and burn off some extra energy.

  “Mr. McKenna?”

  He looked up. “Yes?”

  Rachel Clark stood in the doorway and sent him a tentative smile. “I wanted to thank you. I’m grateful we were able to work things out.”

  He frowned and looked away. “I don’t know why you’re thanking me. I’m the one who insisted on the trial period.”

  “Oh…. Well, I’m sure in a few weeks we’ll have our program up and running, and you’ll see this arrangement is going to be wonderful for everyone.”

  He studied her and rubbed his jaw. “Are you always this…upbeat?”

  She blinked, looking confused. “Well, I guess I am a cup-half-full kind of person. I don’t see any reason to be all gloomy and pessimistic.”

  He stiffened. “Is that what you think I am?” He hadn’t intended to sound so gruff, but her perky attitude was getting to him.

  “No, I didn’t mean you specifically. I just—”

  “Look, Ms. Bright Eyes. I don’t care what you think of me. What matters is keeping the co-op afloat. If you and your kids fit in, fine. I won’t give you any trouble. But if our building turns into an indoor playground—”

  She glared at him. “You really are a piece of work, you know that?”

  His jaw dropped, and the air whooshed out of his lungs as if she’d punched him.

  She strode across the room and faced him from the other side of the workbench. “You know nothing about me or my kids. But you’ve already made up your mind I’m some kind of con artist, and my kids are a rowdy bunch of juvenile delinquents.”

  Cam lifted his hand. “Whoa. Hold on. I never—”

  “No, you hold on. I came here tonight with good intentions. I’m not trying to pull anything over on you. Our group needs a new home, and this building is perfect. But I also believe this is a good arrangement for you and the co-op, or I wouldn’t have come.”

  “Is that right?” He hoped he could take a little wind out of her billowing sails with his calm tone.

  But her dark eyes flashed. “Yes, it is. So I wish you’d stop acting like I’m trying to trick you into something you’ll regret.”

  Cam lifted both hands this time. “Okay. I hear you. You don’t have to get upset.”

  She drew herself up. “I’m not upset.” But she quickly deflated, and her fiery expression melted. “I’m sorry. I just hate it when I feel misjudged. That’s a real hot button for me.”

  “I never would’ve guessed.” He suppressed a smile and took a seat on his stool.

  “Well, don’t you think everyone deserves a fair hearing?” She leaned on the workbench. “Shouldn’t people have a chance to prove their innocence and explain their motives?”

  He studied her, trying to discern where all this was coming from. She certainly seemed to have a strong sense of justice, especially where her intentions were concerned. “I’m all for giving everyone a chance to prove themselves. That’s the reason behind the trial period, but you need to understand something. These people are my friends, not just my business partners. They’ve invested everything they have in their galleries, and most of them are hanging on by their teeth, hoping to make enough to pay the bills and hold on to their space. I need to watch out for them.”

  She nodded slowly, looking as though his words had finally sunk in. “How long have you all been working together?”

  “About a year and half—not long enough to make much of a name for ourselves.”

  She sat on the stool in front of the workbench. “I’m sure it’s a challenge to draw people in when you’re not in the center of the historic district like most of the other galleries and shops.”

  “That’s why we want to spruce up the building and add new landscaping and a better sign.”

  “Those are good ideas.” She tucked a strand of dark brown hair behind her ear. “How about getting involved in craft fairs and community events? Or maybe you could offer some classes or hold an art show.” Her eyes lit up as she continued, “Do you have a promotional brochure? How about a Web site? The Internet is a great way to reach people, and it’s very cost-effective.”

  “You’re just a fountain of ideas,” he said, trying to resist the softening he felt toward her.

  She shrugged, and her smile returned. “Promotion is part of my job. I enjoy it. Hannah gave me a tour of the galleries earlier. I’m excited about teaming up with you. I promise I’ll do whatever I can to help get the word out.”

  This conversation was getting a little too cozy for him. He slid off the stool and stood. “Sure. That would be fine.”

  She seemed to pick up his silent message and pushed back from the workbench. “Well, it’s getting late. I better go.”

  He glanced out his window at the dark parking lot. She might be the enemy, but he wasn’t about to send her out there all alone. “I’ll walk you out.”

  Her eyes glowed, and she sent him a grateful smile. “Thanks.”

  He grabbed his jacket and stuffed his cell phone in his pocket. He hoped he wasn’t giving her the wrong idea. All he had in mind was making sure she was safe. He wasn’t interested in anything else. An occasional late-night walk to the car was all he planned to offer. And even that was a huge step for him.

  Fresh, rain-washed air cooled Rachel’s face as she stepped out the front door of the old school-turned-Arts-Center. She released a deep breath, letting go of the tension that had built through the evening. The aroma of lilacs and freshly mowed grass drifted past. She’d always loved those special springtime scents.

  She glanced across at Cam as he fell in step beside her. His offer to walk her to her car had been a pleasant surprise. It seemed he hid some gentlemanly qualities under that brusque exterior after all.

  Thinking back over the evening, she regretted the way she’d spouted off at him earlier. She’d been surprised by the way he took it all in stride.

  Bright moonlight threw shadows across the sidewalk and highlighted the strong features of Cam’s face. He slowed and looked to the right. “This is the area we want to landscape. We’ll put flowers and shrubs in beds along the front of the building and lay sod over the rest.” A faint smile lifted his mouth. “Maybe we should have our own outdoor art festival. There’d be plenty of room for it.”

  Rachel surveyed the weedy area, imagining the landscaping he’d described. “Sounds like a good idea.” As she stepped off the curb, she glanced across the parking lot. A forest-green SUV sat under the central light near her white Toyota. Was that Cam’s car? Then something else caught her attention. In the corner of the parking lot, a dark sedan sat in the shadows under the trees. A cigarette glowed behind the driver’s side window for a second then disappeared.

  Rachel pulled in a sharp breath, and her steps stalled.

  Cam slowed next to her. “What’s wrong?”

  “The
re’s someone in that car over there.” She lifted her chin toward the car in the corner, trying not to be too obvious. The cigarette glowed again, and chilling memories came flooding back. Fear rose like a constricting band around her chest. She fought to pull in her next breath. This couldn’t be happening again. Please, God, not here. Not now.

  “It’s probably just some guy who had a fight with his wife and needs a place to cool off.” Though his tone was light, she saw him glance cautiously at the dark sedan as they approached her car.

  She could feel Cam’s steady gaze resting on her as she pulled her keys from her purse and sorted through them. Her hands shook. She clamped her teeth together, fighting the feeling of dread flowing through her. Now she not only had to worry about the man in the car, she had to try and hide her reaction from Cam. Explaining wasn’t an option, not if she wanted to hold on to her job and new location.

  A sudden wind whipped across the parking lot, sending bits of trash and dried leaves swirling around her. She brushed a strand of hair from her eyes and darted one more glance at the sedan. Was Cam right? Was this just a frightening coincidence?

  She thought Fairhaven would be a safe place where she could start over and build a new life for herself—far away from the problems she’d experienced in Seattle.

  But maybe she hadn’t traveled far enough after all.

  Chapter Four

  The tantalizing aroma of fresh-brewed coffee floated by Cam’s nose. He sniffed and looked up from cleaning the glass on his latest framing project.

  Ross crossed the shop carrying two tall disposable cups. “One cream, two sugars.” He held out a cup to Cam.

  “Thanks. I owe you.” He took a sip and scalded his tongue.

  “You certainly do.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  His friend looked at him over the top of his glasses. “I saved your hide at the meeting last night, and you know it. If it weren’t for me you would’ve totally alienated everyone.”

 

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