The Single Dad Next Door

by Jessica Keller

  His mother kissed both his cheeks and then cradled his face in her hands. “Do I need a reason to see my youngest boy?”

  He kept grinning.

  “Now.” She rose slowly. “Let me see those grandbabies.”

  “I was only coming to grab the mail real quick, but that can wait. Let’s load you into the car and we can go pick up Ruthy from the sitter now, and then later we’ll get Skylar when school’s over. They’ll be so surprised.” Kellen wrapped his arm around his mother’s waist. Susan looked older than Maggie would have expected Kellen’s mom to be. Then again, he had three older brothers and she had no clue as to the age difference between all the Ashby siblings.

  “Hang on.” Susan pressed her hand over Kellen’s chest. “I have something for Maggie.” She reached into the folds of her large coat and pulled out a wrinkled envelope. “For you, dear.”

  “I don’t understand.” Maggie took the envelope, staring down at the aged paper.

  “Perhaps it’ll hold some of those answers you’re looking for.” Susan winked and then left with Kellen.

  Maggie locked the side door behind them and then went and locked the front door. Alone. Gripping the envelope on her way up the stairs, she wondered what she’d find inside. She climbed into the window seat, leaning her back against one of the arched windows. Then she drew her knees up as she opened the envelope. A breath locked in her chest; she unfolded the piece of paper inside. A letter.

  Magpie

  “Ida,” Maggie whispered. She didn’t need to glance down to the signature to know her old friend had written the note. The only person who called her Magpie had been Ida.

  Well, now, if you’re reading this, then I’m dancing with my Henry again and I’m spending time at the Lord’s side. That’s a good and happy thing, Magpie. I hope you know that. I’ve been loved greatly twice in my time on earth—by Henry, but more than anything, by God. I’m truly home now.

  You have a question for me, though, so I thought it best to try to offer you an explanation. Namely, why did I leave the West Oaks Inn to Kellen and not to you? Oh, go on and pretend you weren’t concerned about that, but I know you—that old home is eating you up and tying you down like a staked dog in a small backyard. Don’t tell me it isn’t.

  My heart aches for Kellen. He was the youngest with three highly achieving brothers and was often overlooked. From a young age he was told that the thing he wanted to pursue most—music—was sinful. Can you imagine how confusing that would be? Being told that something you’re gifted in and have a passion for displeased God. He should have been encouraged to pursue his dream in a way that shone a light on the Gospel. But he wasn’t and he ran.

  Kellen is not without mistakes, mind you. No, he went and made some of the largest ones a man can. But in the end, he chose correctly. He gave up everything for the good of his daughters and has sacrificed his dream in the process. I respect him for that and when I got word by his mother that Kellen never got to see his girls working that job in Los Angeles that he didn’t much like to begin with, well, I knew I had to do something about it.

  You must understand that he’s my nephew and he has two small lives depending on him. Moreover, that man deserves a happy ending and I believe with all my heart that he’ll find that in Goose Harbor. Much like I did after Henry passed through my friendship with you, my dear.

  Might I be honest with you? You are wonderful at many, many things, but you’re not the best at managing money and are not organized. Putting the inn in your hands would have been dropping a large and cruel burden on your shoulders. The money it takes to run this place! In order to take care of it I would have had to leave you every cent I had left, and that would have meant turning my back on Kellen. And I couldn’t do that.

  I trust that Kellen will take care of you as I did. More than that, I believe you two have the opportunity to take care of each other for life. You do understand my meaning? I know it is scary for you—this man you do not know now has power over the one thing you hold tightest. Might an old friend offer one last piece of advice? Let go of old ideas and dreams in order to make way for new ones. I pray both you and Kellen learn to see the beautiful picture God’s been painting before you for years. That will only happen if you start trusting it will, though.

  Much love as always,

  Ida Ashby

  Maggie ran her thumbs back and forth over the wrinkled paper. It hit her how much she still missed Ida, but the woman wouldn’t have wanted her to mourn. She was glad to have the letter, even just for one last item to hold on to. Then again...hadn’t Ida warned her about that?

  Sadly Maggie had been holding so tightly to the old West Mansion that her hands weren’t free to cling to Jesus. That didn’t sound like the obedience she prided herself in at all. She’d been wrong to feel as though she deserved life to work out better for her than others simply because she’d followed some correct algorithm that others hadn’t. More like she’d followed a set of rules instead of following in the footsteps of her savior. Ouch.

  So much to think through.

  Did Ida’s letter, along with some personal revelations that she’d had while speaking with Susan, mean that Maggie should pack up and leave the inn? If Ida’s heart had been to take care of Kellen and his daughters, then they should get to live in the private portion of the mansion. It was far bigger than the cottage was. Much more room than Maggie needed. That would solve her situation with Kellen.

  Paige and Caleb had contacted her over the weekend, letting her know they were serious about offering her a place in their home for a while. If she moved in with them, though, it would still be temporary. She couldn’t stay with her married friends forever. It wouldn’t be home.

  Maggie scanned the letter again and fought a smile. Ida seemed to be trying to play matchmaker from the grave. Too bad. She was wrong on that account. She and Kellen weren’t about to take care of each other for life. Even if the idea sounded like the best new dream Maggie could have imagined.

  * * *

  Kellen parked his car and strained his eyes. That was Maggie all right. But why was she army-crawling across the grass with Skylar? Looping his arm over the steering wheel, he watched the pair of comrades.

  Kellen’s ears still stung from the multiple tongue-lashings his mom had given him since she showed up at the inn three days ago. As usual, his mom was right. Annoyingly so. He’d judged Maggie based on his past experiences instead of treating her like an individual. Kellen didn’t know her motives, and while he needed to protect himself and his daughters from people who might wish to use them all in some way, Maggie’s other actions had shown that her aim wasn’t to use him. In fact, everything pointed to the opposite.

  She deserved an apology. Again.

  The sun’s rays blasted into his closed car, heating the inside where he sat despite the day only being mild. He watched his daughter and Maggie whispering together near the wildflower garden. She was really good with his girls. Which was a plus.

  Kellen shook his head.

  Maggie was an employee. Someone who performed a job at the inn—end of story. What if it’s the beginning of the story? No. No way. No how. Kellen was damaged goods. Maggie deserved better than someone like him. His thoughts kept heading in that direction because his mom kept mentioning the possibility. Had told him they were a match and that his aunt Ida had prayed for them to end up together.

  That was all.

  Skylar and Maggie bolted up from the ground and then, hand in hand, raced into the house. Their laughter followed them like a soft boat wake. Kellen climbed out of his car and crossed the yard to the inn, walking carefully, so as not to make noise. He heard a bee buzzing nearby and picked up his pace. Taking the stairs two at a time, he eased the door open quietly. They hadn’t spotted him yet. Ducking along the wall, he spied the two playing in Maggie’s family room.

 
“Okay. This couch is the fire truck and you get to be the fire-truck dog,” Skylar instructed.

  “The dog? Are you sure? Couldn’t there be a firewoman on the truck?”

  Skylar shook her head solemnly.

  “You can’t say I didn’t try.” Maggie laughed and put her “paws” up in the air. She pretended to pant like a dog. Kellen had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing.

  “Oh no! Maggie-dog! There is a fire. C’mon, grab the hose.” Skylar tossed her a pillow and they both sprang into action, pretending to put out the fire on the other couch.

  Skylar dropped the cushion to pop her hands to her hips. “Now the couch is a pirate ship. I am the pirate and you are a prisoner. I’m going to feed you to the sea monster, so you have to walk the plank.”

  Kellen considered breaking in to tell Skylar she was acting too bossy but decided not to. Watching Maggie play so willingly with his daughter when she had nothing to gain by doing so caused a warm feeling to work its way into his heart.

  Maggie shimmied onto the armrest and Skylar poked her in the back, every inch of his daughter playing the most menacing of pirates.

  “Please! Captain Skylar Blackbeard, please spare me.”

  “Nope. Walk the plank.” Skylar nudged Maggie again until she threw herself onto the floor, flailing her arms in the air, sputtering and all-out pretending to drown.

  Finally Kellen stepped into the room and broke out in a deep belly laugh. Maggie froze.

  “Daddy, you are the sea monster and you have to eat Maggie.”

  Kellen stepped so he had a foot on either side of Maggie, looked down at her and winked. “Aw, we don’t want to eat Maggie.” He prodded her with his foot and in a stage whisper said, “You’re supposed to still be drowning.”

  “You have to eat her, Daddy. That’s part of the game. It’s what sea monsters do.” Skylar crossed her arms.

  “What if I get to save Maggie instead? I’ll be another pirate and take her on board my ship. How about that?” Skylar still looked skeptical. “I mean, Sky—we like Maggie, right? We probably shouldn’t eat her, even if it’s by a pretend sea monster.”

  Skylar closed her eyes for a second, scrunching her eyelids so her face bunched up—a telltale sign that the child was thinking really hard. The grandfather clock in the lobby sounded.

  “Okay, Dad. You can save her. But your ship has to be outside on the hammock. You don’t get to be by my ship.”

  Kellen wasted no time reaching down and scooping Maggie up. He tossed her over his shoulder and strode toward the door in the kitchen as she pounded on his back lightly with her fists.

  Maggie laughed. “All right. We get the picture. You can put me down now.”

  “Hey. No complaints. I’m saving you. It was this or be eaten, remember?”

  Her hand stilled against his back. Skylar darted around them, holding open the door. Kellen walked the ten paces out of the house to where a hammock hung under a large cotton tree.

  “Our ship awaits, fair maiden.” He tossed her down, falling himself in the momentum.

  They were both laughing until their eyes met. Only inches away from her, he instinctively traced his gaze down her face to her mouth. What was she thinking? In a second he could close his lips over hers. Would she let him? He wanted to, which surprised him. Would his feelings for this woman ever make sense? Could he trust her, completely, the way he wanted to?

  A little voice broke into his thoughts. “Now you have to kiss her. That’s what a hero does when he saves the girl. They do in all the movies.”

  Maggie became rigid beside him. Kellen leaned back on his elbows and cleared his throat.

  “Where’s your grandma and your sister?”

  Maggie rolled over and crawled out of the hammock. “They went for a walk. Skylar stayed here to help me make some bread.”

  “From scratch.” Skylar jumped onto the hammock with him, sending it swaying dangerously. “Hey, there’s Grandma.” She pointed toward the sidewalk. His mom had Ruthy by the hand, and clutched tightly to her chest, Ruthy had a bouquet of wildflowers. Skylar jumped off the hammock and ran toward them.

  “I better check the bread.” Maggie pointed her thumb over her shoulder, in the direction of the inn.

  “Hey, Maggie.” Kellen clambered down off the hammock and caught up with her. “We need to talk.”

  Maggie spun around, her cheeks flushing. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you. Pop culture isn’t really my thing. If it bothered you so much, you should have just said something from the beginning and then I could have—”

  “I’m glad you didn’t know.”

  “But this whole past week...” She didn’t need to finish the sentence for him to understand. He knew how he’d been acting.

  Aloof. Unsociable. Rude.

  “I’m trying to apologize for how I’ve been behaving. It had nothing to do with you and everything to do with me.” He scanned her face. Creamy skin that never needed makeup, the palest blue eyes and her auburn hair, Maggie was gorgeous. How had he missed that before?

  “Ah.” Maggie clucked her tongue. “Going with the old ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ line.”

  He had to make her see he was being genuine.

  Kellen hooked his hand on the back of his neck. “I hate when people know about my past. I’d rather no one recognized me from the Snaggletooth Lions. The person who played in that band isn’t me. Not anymore. I’d rather just be known for who I am now.”

  Maggie crossed her arms, assessing him. “And who is that man? Because I keep getting mixed signals.”

  “He’s a father who adores his two little girls.” Kellen pointed toward his daughters and mother as they made their way up the driveway. “A struggling businessman.” He moved his hand to indicate the inn. “And someone who is trying to figure out how to live a life that pleases God, but I’m still failing all the time on that account.” He laid his hand over his heart.

  “You and me both.” Maggie blew out a stream of air that ruffled her hair. He fought the desire to reach up and tuck the wayward strands behind her ear.

  “You? Now, that I don’t believe.” Kellen stepped closer, lowering his voice as his daughters drew near. He picked up Maggie’s hand, cradling it in his. “You’re the kindest, most caring, most self-sacrificing person I know.”

  She looked down at their hands. “I’m so confused. I’ve been questioning everything about myself lately.”

  He tightened his hold. “Come with me to the Sandy Point Bridge tomorrow morning.”

  A smile tugged at the corner of her month. “How early in the morning?”

  “Early.” He traced his thumb back and forth over her smooth skin. “Watch the sunrise with me.”

  Little footsteps pounded closer. “Daddy, I got these flowers for you.”

  Maggie extracted her hand. “The sun doesn’t rise over Lake Michigan. It sets.”

  “The sun still rises.” He smiled, hoping they could go back to their easy friendship. “Say you’ll come with me.”

  “I’ll think about it. But for now, I need to go grab that bread before it burns.”

  Maggie headed off and Kellen turned to hug his girls. He’d put a bug in his mom’s ear about the bridge. Since Mom was staying in one of Maggie’s spare rooms, she’d have plenty of time to bother Maggie until she gave in.

  Not his most noble move, but he wanted some time alone with Maggie and he’d do what he had to in order to get it.

  Chapter Eleven

  Maggie buckled her seat belt and cradled the blanket on her lap. Kellen climbed into the driver’s seat and closed the door. Darkness enveloped them until he flipped the headlights on.

  Susan had pestered her, saying she would watch the girls, until Maggie had texted Kellen, saying she’d join him in the morning. Tr
ue to her word, Susan had been cooking when they left and had two pajama-clad girls serving as assistants. Even though the cottage had brand-new appliances, Kellen and his family often used the kitchen in the inn to make their meals, seeing as the one in the cottage was so small.

  “This is early, even by my standards.” Maggie stifled a yawn. “And I’m used to getting up before people to make multiple courses for breakfast.”

  “You’ll live. Promise.” He nudged his elbow against hers on the center console.

  Purple hints of twilight snuck through the canopy of towering trees as he maneuvered the car out onto the main highway. Sandy Point Bridge would be a thirty-minute drive. A pedestrian bridge in the midst of the forest preserve, it took a fifteen-minute hike to reach it from the parking lot once they got there. Childhood memories told Maggie that the time investment would be worth it. There was something special about the spot. The bridge connected a divide between dunes in the preserve, hanging above a wide river connecting to Lake Michigan. The cold lake water meeting the river caused a thick layer of fog to grow under the bridge every morning—making it look as if it were floating in the clouds if someone had the imagination to pretend away the trees nearby.

  After parking, Kellen clicked on a flashlight. “Want me to carry the blanket?”

  “I’ve got it.” The coarse fabric scratched against her bare arms.

  The hike was entirely uphill. Kellen offered his hand as they clambered over downed trees and huge roots sticking out of the ground. Birds tittered on the higher branches. Whether they were disturbed by their morning visitors or were simply planning their flights for the day, only the birds would ever know. Something darted on the ground, rustling bushes. Stifling a scream, Maggie dug her nails into Kellen’s arm.

  “Killer squirrels.” His laugh was soft, comforting.

  She swatted his arm and trudged on ahead of him.

  Both of them stopped walking when the bridge came into view. Long, slender fingers of pink blushes and purple lights traced over the sky, lighting the opening to Lake Michigan. Despite being warm from the walk, Maggie shivered as air blew off the lake and whistled through the gap in the dunes. The bridge, while not overly huge or tall, was breathtaking. Only suspended for pedestrian use, it was narrow and dipped into the fog that laced through the ravine.