If things were different, he’d have liked to spend more time with someone like Hannah, who was fresh-faced and hardworking, sweet. The polar opposite of the kind of woman he used to like.
But he couldn’t escape his family, as evidenced by his father’s appearance here today. He could never have someone like Hannah. Even if she was interested, he couldn’t subject her to the trouble and foul language and rumors that went along with being a Hutchenson.
“Hey, I know you.” Luke’s father narrowed his eyes at Hannah.
Great. What now?
A few flurries of snow fell from the sky, and Hannah shivered. “Hi, Mr. Hutchenson,” she said politely. “We’re kind of neighbors,” she said to Luke.
“Your mom still lives in the white brick place?”
She nodded. “Me, too, for now. Makes it easier to take care of the twins. Which means...” She trailed off.
“I’m your neighbor, too.” Luke blew out a sigh. Between driving Dad to his appointments and getting this job, Luke had barely had a chance to look around him. He hadn’t realized the Antonicellis still lived in the house just down the road. Close, if you didn’t mind cutting through the trees or walking a country road, where cars tended to push the speed limit.
“Your mom doesn’t like my dog,” Dad said now to Hannah.
Hannah nodded. “I heard. Did you get the fence fixed yet?”
“I ain’t fixin’—”
“I’ll take care of it,” Luke interrupted. His father’s pit-bull mix looked intimidating and could act wild, but she was sweet-natured from what Luke could tell. She just didn’t get enough attention. “Come on, Pop. I’ll run you home and fix you a sandwich and coffee.”
“Don’t need to take care of me like I’m an invalid,” Dad complained, but he did turn in the direction of Luke’s truck.
“Nutrition is important,” Luke told him. “Especially before surgery.” It was also important to avoid alcohol, but that was a conversation better left for when his father was sober.
After Luke had basically lifted his father into the truck, he looked back toward Hannah, who stood talking to Reese.
So she’d learned that nothing in the Hutchenson family had changed. Plus, it looked like there’d be no escaping each other, since they were apparently neighbors as well as coworkers.
Luke just hoped that didn’t turn out to be a disaster.
* * *
At the end of the day, Hannah hurried into the Learn-and-Play to pick up the twins, intending to take them right home. But they sat contentedly on the floor with Hannah’s nephew, Mikey, who was almost four. Apparently, the other day-care kids had already been picked up.
Hannah’s cousin Samantha waved Hannah toward the front of the room. “Sit a minute. We could both use a breather.” Samantha was seven months pregnant, which had to make running the Learn-and-Play extra challenging, especially when she was mom to high-energy Mikey, as well.
“That’s for sure.” Hannah pulled a small chair over and perched on it beside Samantha, who’d claimed the only adult-size chair in the room. “Did they do okay?” She’d stopped in to check on the girls twice, and each time Samantha and her assistant had reassured her, but she still worried. They’d lost their mother and their home just two weeks ago, and the months before that had been difficult, their care inconsistent.
“They did well. I can already see how outgoing Addie is. She warmed up to everyone right away.”
“And Emmy didn’t?” Anxiety clutched at Hannah’s stomach.
“She did fine, considering it’s her first day in a new environment.” Samantha stretched her arms upward, and then twisted from side to side, her hands going to her back. “She’s just a little more reserved.”
“Did she cry much?”
“Some.” Samantha tipped her flattened hand from side to side. “She cried more than Addie, but nothing unusual.”
Still, Hannah worried. How was she going to manage if Emmy ended up needing more help and attention? She already felt stretched thin.
She watched the twins some more, and sure enough, Addie was waving her hands and laughing as Mikey made faces at her. Emmy watched quietly from a few feet away.
Samantha pulled a high chair close, sprayed disinfectant and wiped it down. “Mikey loves his cousins already. Second cousins, whatever. How could he help it? They’re the cutest kids.”
Hannah studied the twins. They had blond hair and blue eyes just as she and Marnie did, marking the fact that they’d descended from Northern Italians. While her own hair was relentlessly straight, though, Addie and Emmy had Marnie’s adorable curls.
They didn’t look a thing like their father, Luke’s brother, who was dark-haired like Luke. For that, Hannah was grateful. Anything that would keep Luke from recognizing them as family members was a blessing.
And speaking of blessings, so was Hannah’s cousin. “I’m so thankful for you,” she said to Samantha. “I’m going to be hitting you up with a lot of newbie questions.”
“Feel free, not that I’m any kind of expert,” Samantha said. “I’m here for you. I can babysit or do playdates whenever you want.”
Emmy burst into tears for no apparent reason, and Hannah hurried over to pick her up and comfort her. Addie reached her hands up, too, and Hannah plopped down onto the floor so that both twins could sit in her lap.
Samantha came over to where Hannah was sitting. “Come on, Mikey, let’s get these toys picked up before Daddy comes,” she said, and Mikey hurried to obey. “I can’t wait for Corbin to take over for a few hours,” she said to Hannah, keeping her voice low enough that Mikey couldn’t hear. “I could use a nap.”
“It would be great to have a man around,” Hannah blurted, and then felt embarrassed, somehow exposed. “Just to help out with the twins,” she added quickly.
“If you want a man around, you do have to go out on a date now and then,” Samantha teased.
A weight settled on Hannah’s heart. “Doesn’t help in my case. Dates never go well.”
“Ummm... I’ve been back in town for almost two years and I’ve never seen you go out on a date.” Her cousin arched an eyebrow.
“I’m plain and unappealing. No one’s ever going to give me a second look, let alone a second chance.”
“That’s ridiculous. You have no idea how pretty you are.” Samantha reached out and fluffed a hand through Hannah’s short, no-nonsense hair. “You might want to wear a little makeup and get your hair cut in a style,” she suggested. “Not so much for a guy, but to give you confidence. Maybe wear a cute dress to church, instead of your same old jeans.”
“Thanks a lot.” But Hannah knew Samantha was right. She should make an effort no matter how discouraged she felt about her prospects of meeting anyone. “Meanwhile, it’s just me and Mom to raise these two. I hope we’re up for the challenge.”
“And me!” Samantha mock-glared at her. “I’m your cousin. I’ll help with your sisters’ babies however I can. They’re related to me, too.” She pivoted and looked at the clock on the wall. “Come on, Corbin, where are you?”
As if responding to her call, Samantha’s husband, a tall man dressed in rumpled khakis, with glasses perched crookedly atop his head, hurried in. “Sorry I’m late! I picked up a pizza so we don’t have to cook.”
“You’re my hero.” Samantha wrapped her arms around him for a long hug.
“Pizza!” Mikey ran at the couple and crashed into their legs, wrapping his arms around them. “Let’s go home! I’m hungry!”
“Okay, okay.” Corbin laughed, found Mikey’s coat on a wall hook and kneeled to help the boy put it on.
Hannah stood. Time to follow suit. She needed to get the girls home before both they and she crashed. “Come on, kiddos, let’s walk out with Mikey!” She grabbed the girls’ jackets—pink for Addie, purple for Emmy—and brought them to where they were pla
ying. She held up Addie’s jacket. “Here, poke your arm in.”
“No.” Addie twisted away and headed for the toy bin.
Emmy, who’d been waiting her turn, got to her feet and followed her sister.
Hannah hurried after them with their jackets. “Come on, let’s—let’s both put one arm in, then the other.” She took Addie’s hand, but gently. She hadn’t been around kids that much, but she did know that she had to figure out a way to distract them, rather than forcing them. Especially when there was a pair of them; no way could she pick up two screaming toddlers and carry them out, so she couldn’t let things escalate that far.
“Uh-uh.” Addie jerked away.
Emmy started to cry again.
Hannah looked at Corbin, Mikey and Samantha, all near the doorway, ready to leave but waiting. Don’t leave me alone with them! she wanted to beg, but, of course, she didn’t. “I’m sorry. I know you want to get home. I can lock up.”
“No way. We won’t abandon you.” Corbin came over and kneeled in front of the girls. “Mikey is wearing his jacket. Can you put on your jacket like a big kid?” He spoke only to Emmy, probably having discerned she was the weaker link in the defiance chain.
Her eyes went wide and round.
“Like this, Emmy!” Mikey came over, pulled off his jacket and held it up. “See? I can put it on myself, ’cause I’m big.” He demonstrated, sliding his arms into his jacket sleeves.
Please let this work, because I’m tired and starving, and I know they are, too.
Addie pushed her way in front of Emmy and thrust her arms into the jacket Hannah was holding. Samantha hurried over and held Emmy’s jacket. “Put it on like Mikey,” she encouraged, and praise the Lord, Emmy did.
“Let’s all go home!” Samantha’s voice was singsong and she clapped her hands, and just like that, the twins followed her outside.
Hannah blew out a breath. “I have a lot to learn,” she said as she grabbed the diaper bag and hurried after them.
Chapter Two
On Sunday morning, Luke sat in his hometown church—for the first time in his life—and fought the feeling that he didn’t belong.
He’d done his best: he’d worn his good jeans and a button-down shirt, he’d smiled, he’d greeted people he knew, mostly his friendly new coworkers from Rescue Haven. The minister had shaken his hand and sounded sincerely glad, not just job-description glad, that Luke was here. Luke had even seen Hannah, hurrying toward the nursery with the twins right before the service started, and she’d given him a friendly wave.
But he’d caught the surprised looks, too. As kids, he and Bobby and their dad had never darkened the doors of any church. “Bunch of uptight hypocrites” was the kindest thing Dad had to say about Christians.
That was what Luke had believed, too, right up until five years ago. A bad breakup, a job loss and an eviction had thrown him onto the streets. After a couple of months raising Cain right here in Bethlehem Springs, he’d gone back to Cleveland and landed in the humble, concrete-block building known as the Cleveland Christian Covenant men’s shelter. The people there hadn’t been uptight, or hypocrites; they’d fed him and helped him find an apartment and a paying job without once looking down on him. They’d offered church services and bible studies, but left it up to their clients, as they called the shelter’s residents, whether to partake.
Luke had decided to try their brand of Christianity, and it had helped him start to heal.
Coming to church in his small hometown was different, but it shouldn’t have been. He focused his mind on the Scripture readings and then prayed with the rest of the congregation. He listened to a sermon that made him think.
After services were over, as he headed to his car in a sharp wind, he saw Hannah walking ahead of him, holding a twin by each hand. She wore faded jeans and her parka was unzipped, her hair blowing haphazardly. Just looking at her made him smile. She was consistent, at least. And she didn’t need to doll herself up; she was naturally pretty.
Which he shouldn’t be thinking about. He sped up, reached his car and got in.
He was about to close the door when he heard a loud wail, then a muffled exclamation. He got back out and looked toward the corner of the parking lot from where the crying was coming.
Hannah was trying to get the twins into their car seats, but they weren’t cooperating. Every time she leaned into the car, presumably to fasten one of them in, the other toddled away across the parking lot and Hannah had to abandon the mission to get the straying one to safety. One of the girls was loud about her unhappiness.
He debated with himself for a few seconds and then walked over. “Need a hand?” he asked her. “I can keep one corralled while you buckle in the other one.”
“Thank you,” she said, sounding frazzled. “That would help.”
He squatted down to the level of the higher-energy toddler. “Are you gonna ride in the car?” he asked her, effectively blocking her from running across the parking lot.
“Car.” She pointed at it. “No car.”
So she was at the stage of learning words, probably dozens each week, which gave him an idea. “Where’s your hat?” he asked.
“No hat,” she said, and pulled it off.
Oh, well, bad idea. “Where’s your nose?” he asked, and they played a name-the-object game until Hannah was ready to get her into the car.
“No car,” the child said, but her voice was tentative, and Hannah was able to pick her up and plunk her in her car seat with a minimum of drama.
She closed the back door and leaned against it, forking her fingers through her hair. Despite the chilly wind, she looked hot. “Thank you,” she said.
“No problem. They’re really cute.” He looked into the window and tapped on it, making Addie laugh.
Just in that minute he’d looked away, Hannah’s face had shifted from friendly to tense. “Right,” she said, and walked around to the driver’s side. “I should get going.”
Luke watched her, puzzled. Had he said something wrong? Or was it that she didn’t like him talking to her kids?
“Well, Luke Hutchenson! You’re the last person I’d expect to see in church.”
He turned to see a silver-haired woman in a fur coat. Her face was familiar, but he didn’t remember her name.
No matter. She knew his.
Everyone knew his. If his family’s reputation hadn’t been bad enough, Luke’s own carousing months in town just before he’d hit bottom had surely helped to cement it.
The older woman approached the car. “Are these poor Marnie’s twins?” she asked, peering into the back seat.
“Uh-huh. See you later.” Hannah climbed into the car, but not before Luke registered her tightened lips and tense face. She backed out, a little too fast, and drove away.
A silver Lincoln Continental pulled up, and the driver-side window opened. “I’ve been looking all over for you!” said the driver, sounding irritated.
The fur-coat woman looked at her watch and then hurried to the passenger side, muttering about how someone should open the door for her.
Luke wondered if she meant for him to do it. Really?
But before Luke could move, Reese, his boss at Rescue Haven, was there. He opened the door for the woman, who Luke now remembered as Marla Evans. Reese said a few words to her, closed her safely into the big luxury car and watched it drive away. Then he turned to Luke. “Hey, man, saw you helping Hannah with the twins. Looks like you have a knack for it.”
“I like kids,” Luke admitted. “Especially at that age. They’re a hoot.” He forced his throat to relax, trying to sound casual. There was no real reason for the loss of Nicolette to be so painful to him, still.
Yet once his mind went in that direction, it was hard to stop. How old would she be now...seven? Eight? Where was she living?
Reese was looking at him funn
y. “Do you have any children?”
“No.” He looked away from Reese’s curious stare. He could’ve been a dad to Nicki, but he’d screwed up.
“Hannah’s real pretty,” Reese said.
Luke jerked his head around and glared at the man.
Reese arched an eyebrow. “She seems lonely, too. Maybe you should ask her out.”
That thought appealed in too many ways. But he wouldn’t want to let another kid, or kids, down. “Nah. I’m no good for her.”
Reese narrowed his eyes, still studying Luke. “You heard the sermon, right?”
“Right.” It had been about being washed clean, a new creation.
Reese opened his mouth like he was going to say more, but Gabby came out of the church, holding her two-year-old daughter, Izzy, by the hand, and waved at them.
“Gotta go,” Reese said. “She’s getting tired easily these days.”
Gabby didn’t look tired in the least, but Luke wasn’t going to argue. He just waved as Reese hurried to his family. Then he turned and headed to his own car.
By the time he reached it, the parking lot was nearly empty. Just like another parking lot on that long-ago afternoon, when he’d stood waving at Nicki as her angry mother drove her away.
Back then, he’d gotten in his car and bawled like a fool, and not for the end of the relationship, which had been going downhill for months. Instead, his grief had been for the fact that he’d never get to watch that sweet child wake up in the morning again, that he’d never read her another bedtime story, that he’d miss her first day of kindergarten and every other first in her life.
Nicki hadn’t understood, when she’d blown him kisses and waved goodbye, that she’d never see Luke again, but she must have figured it out later. Had she been sad? Wondered what had happened to the man she’d called Da-da from the time she’d learned to talk?
One thing was for sure, Nicki would never hear a good word about him from her mother, and understandably so. He’d been a jerk of a boyfriend.
Just like a Hutchenson.
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