“You guys did a great job.”
“We’re good helpers, just like with the coins,” Nora reminded her.
“That you are.”
Since they started eating, a few other families had pulled in from the road to visit the daffodil spot. One included a pair of grandparents, and the groups took photographs amongst the flowers. Tom didn’t recognize them, but this was the sort of place where everyone was a neighbor, waving and exchanging happy words about the daffodils and the beauty of the day.
It was one of the reasons he’d moved home, so his kids could experience this type of community.
One of the other children pulled a yellow kite from a bag. Nora sat up straight. “I’m done eating. May I go watch the kite?”
“Yeah.” Logan swiped his mouth with his paper napkin. “Can we?”
May we, can we. Tom would have to work on that with the kids. “Go ahead. Don’t go out of sight, though.”
Faith watched them run down the slope. “Nora seems happy. Logan’s less shy these days, too, with me, anyway. How was their first full week of school?”
“Great. Nora loves everything. Logan’s less effusive, but he’s talked about two boys by name this week. I think he’s getting more comfortable living here.” He was certainly comfortable praying for a new mom every night at bedtime. Tom wasn’t going to mention that to Faith, though.
“I’m glad the kids are settling in well. They’re sweethearts.”
“I kinda like them, too,” he teased, stroking Roscoe as the dog stretched on the blanket. “They were my only reason for getting up in the morning for a while. They’re why I first went to church, because I realized I needed God to help me raise them. Now my parents are coming to church, too.”
“It’s wonderful how God works sometimes.” She plucked a blade of grass, sending the sweet aroma into the air. “My grandparents were the ones who first introduced me to God and helped me on my faith journey.”
“No wonder you feel so strongly about them and preserving Widow’s Peak Creek. You’re honoring the people who loved you unconditionally, aren’t you?”
Her shy smile was as becoming as her other smiles were. “I think they’d be proud of Faith’s Finds.”
“I’m sure your parents are, too.”
“They don’t love antiques or go to church, sorry to say.” Her head shook. “I pray for them, though.”
“That’s one of the best things you can do.”
A heavy topic, but they were mellow and relaxed on the blanket in the shade. Listening to the kids’ laughter and Roscoe’s snores, he leaned back and shut his eyes. He breathed deeply of the fresh air, taking in the scents of soil, pine and Roscoe’s doggy smell.
And something else, Faith’s scent. A faint floral that seemed old-fashioned but timeless. Kind of like her.
“Tom?”
He opened one eye and propped onto his elbow. The kids seemed okay, running around beneath the kite. “Yeah?”
“I think you’re right.”
“About what?”
Her gaze met his in an earnest, almost abashed way. “Your store.”
* * *
“Not the location of your store,” Faith hastened to add, before he thought she might be ceding the property to him. “But the necessity of it. You’ve said it a hundred times, but I better understand now.”
“Oh, yeah?”
From this height, they could view a bend of the creek well enough to see a girl and a man with fishing poles. Faith pointed at them. “They’re not going to catch much, but that doesn’t matter. They’re doing something together. That’s what your store will help provide, tools and means for people—families—to spend time together in our beautiful county.”
Tom shifted to sit up straighter. “That’s my hope. For me and my kids, too. Camping, fishing, it’s about fun, sure, but it’s also about creating memories.”
“Today’s already had some great memories.” She’d snapped a few pictures of the kids among the daffodils on her phone. None of Tom, though. It would be too tempting to look at them.
His gaze fixed on his kids, who still lingered by the kid with the kite. “Where’s your favorite camping spot around here?”
She could name some sites, but it wouldn’t answer his question. “I’ve never camped.”
He sat up. “Never?”
“My parents weren’t the camping type, although my mom and her husband have gone glamping in the Canadian Rockies, and I’ve gotta say, it sounds marvelous.” Not exactly roughing it, though. “I was supposed to go with the Scouts as a kid, but I got sick.”
“I can’t believe it.” Tom resumed leaning on his elbow. “No campfires, no s’mores?”
“I’ve had a s’more, but not in the wilderness.” Plus, she’d consumed a lot of s’mores ice cream. “I never met a chocolate I didn’t like.”
“No sleeping bag or food cooked under the stars?”
“No mosquitos or bears, either.”
“You’ve missed out.”
“Yeah, maybe.” The temperature had warmed up, so she shoved her sleeves up to allow the breeze to brush her forearms. “The past few years, I’ve been so focused on my store and the museum that I forgot to experience the world outside Main Street. Not that I don’t send many people to view the wonders of God’s creation here. I just haven’t been out here myself in a while.”
“The world outside,” he echoed. “I like that name for my store, if you don’t mind me using it.”
“The store you’ll have out by the highway?” she teased. “Couldn’t help it.”
“Very funny.” Tom ripped blades from a clump of grass and tossed them at her legs.
It was almost like flirting, but Faith knew better. He was just keeping things light, so she tossed a few blades of grass at his fancy hiking boots.
He shook them off with a twist of his ankle. “Did you have a good week at the store?”
“I did. And I decided to look into your idea of retrofitting furniture. One piece, as a test. A mid-century blond oak piece that’s kinda beat up, so it needs a lot of work, anyway. I’m talking to an electrician about it this week.”
With his huge grin, he looked just like Logan. “Really?”
“Really. It was a good idea.”
He looked a little smug. “I have another idea for you, if you want to hear it.”
“No promises, but I’m listening.”
“I think you should campaign to save the schoolhouse—”
“Not this again.” She wasn’t angry, but he needed to let that idea go. She tossed a leaf at him to prove her point.
Flicking it out of his hair, he leaned forward, earnest. “Hear me out. Save it, not for your museum, but because it’s old and frankly, an eyesore.”
“You don’t want me to put the museum there anymore?”
“You can’t, right? You said it’s too small.”
He’d listened. She almost whooped. “It’s way too small.”
“It’s also a deterrent to tourism, so I think we should press city council to allocate funds to fix it up, on the outside at least. Put a plaque on it, too. Like I said, I’m good with presentations. What do you say?”
The schoolhouse saved, not for her museum but because it was worthy of preservation. “How could I say no to that?”
He didn’t answer, though. His smile didn’t change, either. He just stared at her. And she stared back.
Oh, no. What she’d felt in her store when he smelled good, and again in his car when he opened the door for her? Those wild nerves on edge and melty at the same time?
It wasn’t going away. It was getting worse.
Tomás Santos, her rival, made her swoony.
Blinking, she fumbled with her water bottle cap and drank down half the water without stopping. Anything to give her an excuse
not to look back at him.
Lord, this can’t be happening. I cannot like him like that. I don’t even know why I would, because he wants my storefront and we don’t like any of the same things, even.
Except his kids. And ham sandwiches. And You.
Suddenly, she couldn’t keep still. “Do you want to see where the mine is?”
“Oh, yeah.” Tom gathered the lunch scraps. “No trash cans here, so we can put our trash into the bag.”
She compressed sandwich wrappings into a baggie, sealed it up tight and passed it to him without touching his fingers.
Impressive fine motor skills, there, Latham.
“Kids, time to go,” Tom called, rousing Roscoe from his nap.
“Aw,” Logan yelled.
“Don’t you want to see the mine?”
Logan cast one more wistful glance at the yellow kite before jogging up the slope to join them, Nora at his heels.
“You liked the kite?” she asked.
“Yeah, I want one.” Logan took a long drink of water.
The blue kite in Faith’s display window was sitting there, unused. It wasn’t vintage, but it was so cute she hadn’t been able to resist buying it from the local who sold them at the farmer’s market. She’d have to buy two more as presents for the twins.
“Why are you smiling, Miss Faith?” Nora wiggled close to her face, nose to nose.
Faith tickled her under the chin. “Kites are fun to watch.”
“It’d be funner to watch if I was the one holding the string.” Nora’s lower lip stuck out. But then her chin lifted, inviting another tickle.
“More fun,” Tom corrected.
Logan was in her face now, too, chin up. “Me, me.”
Hopefully, Tom didn’t mind her tickling the kids. After a minute, though, Faith wobbled as the earth moved beneath them—not the earth. The blanket. Tom held one end and tugged, giving them all a scoot. “Let’s go see the mine.”
“More ride,” Logan demanded.
Faith hopped off the blanket so he could pull the kids around easier. “Real quick and then Daddy and I will fold the blanket.”
Tom tugged them a few feet, then shook it like a wave. “Let’s go. Everyone’s shoelaces tied?”
Sure enough, Nora’s had come untied again. Faith gave the double knot a tug and could only laugh when the slick laces started to loosen on their own. “I think you need laces made of a different type of material.”
“That’s what Daddy says but I wanted the pink ones, so he switched them for me.”
The smile she exchanged with Tom sent a flutter through her abdomen, reminding her to get a grip on herself. This...whatever it was, needed to die. On the vine. Like, yesterday.
They backtracked the way they’d come, over the shady path, and then took a fork at a metal sign indicating they were on the Mine Trail. Fewer than a hundred yards later, the oaks thinned and they reached their destination. Faith tapped the metal sign with her fingernail, making a plinking sound. “The Raven Mine.”
“Where?” Nora looked up, down and everywhere.
“The buildings aren’t here anymore, honey. Everything of value—monetarily and historically—was removed a long time ago. I purchased some artifacts from this site to be exhibited in the town museum, though.”
“Why’d we come if nothing’s here?” Logan cupped his hands over his eyes to block the bright sun, reminding Faith it had been a while since she applied sunblock.
Reaching in her bag, she beckoned him over. “To see what’s left.”
“This is part of town history, son. Family history, too. It’s important.”
“Well I’ll be,” Faith said, as she frosted the cupcakes that were his children with 50 SPF. “You sound like a history buff, Tom Santos.”
“Well, I couldn’t tell you a thing about how they mined for gold.”
Faith pointed at what was left of the hoist foundation. “That’s where they pulled ore from the soil below, and there, where that bit of wood is, is all that’s left of the stamp mill.”
She offered an explanation of how it had worked, but the kids weren’t too interested in the mechanics. They seemed keener to search for gold along the path. It wasn’t like there was anything to see, though. Soon the weeds would overtake the site. They were thick and long, brushing against their jeans as they walked. Faith felt a pinch and bent down to pull a barbed sticker from her sock.
“Hey,” Tom said, as she dug it out. “Don’t get up. You’ve got a bug on your back.”
Faith froze. “A bee? A spider?” Her skin crawled.
“It’s big and black.” He brushed at her spine between her shoulder blades.
Not a bee, okay, but black widow spiders were black. Did they live out here? Faith’s pulse ratcheted. “Is it gone?”
Another brush. “Yes.”
She jumped away, swatting at every inch of clothing she could reach. “Are there any more? Any in my hair?”
“Seriously, you’re afraid of bugs?” Tom’s smile didn’t reassure her as he leaned closer to examine her hair. “I don’t think so. It was just some weird beetle, maybe.”
That was unhelpful. “Aren’t you supposed to know what’s what out here, Mr. World Outside?”
“I’m not a biologist.” Cracking a smile, he scanned her hair. “But I think you’re safe now.”
Safe from weird beetles, maybe, but now that she was out of mortal danger, his closeness caused her bones to melt like wax.
So no, she was not safe—at least her heart wasn’t. If she wasn’t careful, her heart could be in big trouble.
Chapter Nine
Faith jumped back, as if she were in danger of another big bug landing on her. She had to get a grip on these burgeoning feelings for Tom before she was swept away by them. She also needed to say something to cover the awkwardness. Fast.
“You’re going to have to order some flora and fauna books for the store so you can identify beetles better, Tom.”
“Yeah,” he said a second too late. Like he wasn’t unaffected, either.
Nora ran to her dad. “Do I have bugs in my hair? I don’t want bugs, Daddy.”
Grateful for the diversion, Faith examined Logan’s shirt and hair while Tom inspected Nora. “Nope.”
“I don’t like buggy places.” Nora clung to Tom’s leg.
“The world outside is a buggy place.” Faith patted Logan’s shoulders. “No bugs on you, though.”
“I don’t care about bugs, but we should go anyway,” Logan said. “There’s no gold here.”
“Sorry, pal.” Tom stepped toward the trail.
The kids led them on the trail back, keeping up a steady stream of chatter while Faith and Tom followed behind with Roscoe. Faith added to the conversation at every opportunity, if only to keep her attention off of her unwelcome feelings for Tom.
It had been a lovely day, but it was for the best they were going home now. She would spend the evening with a book and a mug of herbal tea, glad she and Tom were capable of a civil relationship. And she would force herself to forget all about her kooky response to him.
Nora turned back. “It’s slippery right here, Daddy. You’d better help Miss Faith since she almost fell earlier.”
Aww, how sweet. “Thanks, Nora. I’m okay, though.”
It wasn’t quite as sweet two minutes later when Logan pointed at the ground. “Here’s a big root, Daddy. Make sure Miss Faith doesn’t trip and hurt her knees again.”
“You guys are doing a great job warning me of potential dangers. I’ll go around it.” She did not need Tom’s assistance to dodge an inch-high root. When she fell earlier, she’d been looking at him. She’d thoroughly learned her lesson and kept her eyes on the ground ahead of her now.
The kids continued to point out hazards until they reached the end of the trail. On seeing th
e black SUV in the parking lot, the kids ran ahead.
“Wow, they think I’m a klutz.” She glanced at Tom, laughing.
“I guess I should be grateful they’re considerate.” Tom unlocked the doors with his key fob. The hatchback lifted and Roscoe hopped right in, as if happy to be going on a ride home.
That made two of them. The day had been lovely, the exercise wonderful, but her thoughts and feelings about Tom had been unsettling to say the least. She needed to buckle down this evening and focus on getting the storefront they were battling over.
Without waiting for Tom to get her door, Faith slid into the passenger seat, dodging the bullet of being close to him again. As Tom pulled out of the small paved lot onto Raven Road, she kept her eyes on the scenery and chatted with the kids about the daffodils. When they were about two minutes from her store, Faith shifted to reach for her bag at her feet, ready to hop out as soon as he parked. “Thanks for the fun day. And the sandwich. Delicious.”
“I want turkey next time,” Logan said.
“Can we have turkey for dinner?” Nora asked.
“I was thinking pizza and veggies tonight, actually.” Tom navigated the gentle curve of the road toward the old part of town.
“Pizza?” Logan’s voice rose in pitch. “Can Miss Faith come?”
Another invitation by the kids that had blindsided Tom by the look of his parted lips.
Nora leaned forward to tap the back of Faith’s seat. “Please, Miss Faith?”
“You need a good dinner,” Logan added. “Veggies are good for you.”
“And we can play a game. Right, Daddy?”
She’d spare him having to say no to his begging kids. Turning in her seat to decline the offer, she smiled at them with her best apologetic look. “You guys are the best, but—”
Tom sucked in a sharp breath.
“What?” She swiveled back.
Blue and red lights flashed at the southwest corner of Main Street around the area of the creek. People lined the sidewalks, staring at the cloud of dark gray smoke marring the otherwise bright blue sky.
Something was on fire. Or had been, recently enough that there was still a lot of activity going on.
A Future for His Twins Page 9