by Melissa Tagg
Raegan’s fingers curled around the Americano she’d picked up at Coffee Coffee just down the block. The one mugful she’d downed at home this morning hadn’t cut it—not after such a short night. After finally falling asleep around one in the morning, she’d awoken not much later to the sound of Erin’s cries. She’d padded down the hallway to find the little girl still shaking from a nightmare.
Erin had reached for her the moment she’d entered the room. She’d ended up spending the rest of the night curled beside Bear’s niece in the bottom bunk.
She stifled a yawn, dew-tipped grass tickling her bare toes and cool air feathering over her cheeks. By this time tomorrow, this riverfront sidewalk and the rambling stretch of green over in the town square would begin filling up with booths and tables and lights for the Summer Carnival. Just the first in a slew of events packed into Maple Valley’s annual calendar—with the art show on July 22 being this year’s crowning achievement.
Could she get a mural done in seven weeks?
Maybe the more important question was, did she actually want to carry out this crazy idea? Or was it just the rash result of being way too swayed by Bear McKinley?
She could’ve sworn that was admiration in his eyes yesterday. But she couldn’t take on a project this huge just to impress the man who’d taken up residence in Dad’s basement.
Pink-tinted hair fluttered in front of Raegan’s face. “It’s not a lot of time, I’ll grant you that. I’ll need to come up with a design. We’ll need to clean and prime the brick before I can even get started painting. It could be tight.”
But it could also be . . . fun. Maybe even thrilling. The chance to explore an old dream and see what might be left of it. And it’d be an act of love for her hometown.
Of course, if she failed, she’d be failing in front of the whole community. It’d be a far cry from playing around with paints in the privacy of Bear’s apartment. Hence, her initial no when Mayor Milt first asked.
“I’d need to talk to the council, probably the Chamber of Commerce, certainly the town beautification committee.” Mayor Milt scratched his chin. “But . . . perhaps.” He turned to her. “Mind if I ask what changed your mind? You seemed pretty set against this whole thing earlier in the week.”
“I suppose maybe . . .” She took a breath as the truth glided through her. Maybe deep down I just want to live up to the Walker name.
Logan had written speeches for presidential candidates. Kate had published books and seen her screenplays turned into movies. Beckett had gone from being a successful lawyer to helping Kit Danby save the local orchard.
Somewhere along the way, every one of her siblings had found their ambition, their purpose. Oh, they’d each had a wandering season. They’d faced difficulties—outright tragedies, in some cases. Logan had lost his first wife. Kate and Beckett had nursed deep hurts. And they’d all had to find a way to deal with Mom’s death.
But hardship, struggles, pain . . . somehow it had all served to sharpen her sister’s and brothers’ passions, deepen their vision. They were all moving toward something.
Whereas Raegan couldn’t seem to see past her next shift at her latest part-time gig. But this project was an open door she hadn’t seen coming, and yeah, maybe at first she hadn’t been brave enough to even consider walking through it.
But this morning, in the breeze and the sun, with the whisper of Bear’s words still tucked in her mind, something deep in her soul spoke a hushed, Go. Try. You never know.
“You suppose what?” Mayor Milt prodded.
But the jingling of the bells over Coffee Coffee’s front door stopped her from answering—and then the sight of a woman emerging into the sunlight. She wore a purple scarf like a headband, and her teal-rimmed glasses matched the long skirt that billowed around her legs. Why did she look the faintest bit familiar?
And why was she staring at Raegan so intently?
The woman’s lips stretched into a smile of recognition and she started toward Raegan. But Raegan’s brain couldn’t come up with a name or any other details to signify how she might know her.
Seconds later, the woman stopped in front of her. There was just enough white teasing her copper hair—creases lining her face, too—to indicate she was likely closer to Dad’s age than Raegan’s.
But it was the tears in her eyes that stood out most. And then the shaking of her voice. “You look so much like her. It’s like seeing a ghost.”
Before Raegan could comprehend what was happening, she found herself wrapped in a hug, enveloped in the scent of lavender. She met Mayor Milt’s startled eyes over the woman’s shoulder even as something in her heart warmed.
How could a hug from a stranger feel so . . . meaningful?
The woman laughed over Raegan’s shoulder before eventually stepping back. “I’m sorry. You must think I’m ridiculous.”
Raegan ran one palm over her arm, then repeated the gesture with the opposite arm. “No, not ridiculous, though I am wondering who you are.” And where she’d seen her before.
The woman used the end of her scarf to dry her eyes and said simply, “I’m Sara.”
“You waited thirty-six hours to tell me you’re back in town?”
Seth Walker wadded an apron and chucked it at Bear from across the sprawling stainless steel counter that filled the middle of the The Red Door’s gleaming commercial kitchen.
Bear caught the apron before it could land on Erin’s head where she sat in front of him on a waist-high stool. Jamie stood by Bear’s side, apparently not as eager as Erin to dig into the cinnamon rolls that Shan, Seth’s head chef, had dished out for them.
“I’m here now, aren’t I?” Bear had already given his friend—Raegan’s cousin—a boisterous embrace the minute he’d arrived at The Red Door and found Seth filling in for an absentee waiter. With every table in the restaurant packed, Seth had insisted Bear bring the kids to the kitchen.
At which point Bear had made the mistake of mentioning they’d arrived in town a day and a half ago.
“That’s two whole nights I went to bed thinking my best friend was thousands of miles away when really he was just down the road.”
The sugary-sweet scent of the rolls pulled a gurgle from Bear’s stomach. Man, it was good to see Seth again. “I feel bad for your wife if it was really me you were thinking about those two nights when you got in bed.”
His friend pitched a towel next. The man could pass for Beckett Walker’s twin—same dark hair and eyes, though Beckett had more height and Seth more brawn. “You know what I meant. And put on the apron. We’re bursting at the seams this morning and I had two employees call in. I could use an extra hand. I bet Shan won’t mind if the kids keep her company for a little while. Will you?”
Shan glanced over from the oven, fanning herself with her hat. “Of course not. Better than having you two yacking away and taking up space in my kitchen.”
Seth grinned. “Hurry up, put on the apron.”
“Really? Because believe it or not, I came here this morning to ask about a job.” Which made this a case of awfully good timing, even if it was a tad humiliating to ask his friend for work.
But for all the uncertainty staring him in the face, one thing was certain: He needed a job, an income. He had two children to take care of in the immediate future, and in the distant future—he hoped, he prayed—he’d need at least somewhat of a financial cushion when he returned to Brazil. Even if the mission board did offer him the community center/clinic position, it probably wouldn’t come with a full-time salary.
Plus, he planned to check with local community colleges about EMT training as soon as he could. With any luck, he’d find a summer course. But that, too, would require a boost to his current dwindling bank account.
Seth pulled a plastic tub from atop an industrial dishwasher. “You came here to ask for a job? Here I thought it was to apologize for taking so long to let me know you’re back.”
“You’re not going to let that go, are you?”<
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He thrust the tub at Bear. “Bus a few tables for me and I might.”
Bear glanced down at the kids. “Will you guys be all right in here for a bit while I help Seth?”
Jamie climbed onto a stool next to Erin but didn’t answer. “Who’s Seth?” Erin asked.
Seth rounded the counter and held out his hand to Erin. “I’m your uncle’s friend.”
Erin stuck her little palm in his. “Like Raegan?”
Seth lifted his eyebrows as he looked to Bear. “Possibly not exactly like Raegan. Never been entirely sure on that point.”
Bear let the suggestive quip pass. “Jamie, don’t you want to try one of Shan’s rolls? They’re pretty amazing.”
Jamie shook his head. “Can I play a game on your phone?”
It was all Jamie had wanted to do last night, too. While Raegan had entertained Erin with a coloring book, Bear had tried his hardest to engage Jamie. He’d been hopeful the boy’s apparent excitement over the bunk beds meant some kind of breakthrough. But Jamie had slipped right back into the same reticent silence that had kept Bear company all the way from Atlanta to Iowa.
He muffled a sigh and handed over his phone before following Seth out the kitchen’s swinging door.
Chatter, laughter, and the sound of clinking dishes packed the spacious restaurant, and awe filled Bear all over again, just like it had so many times in past years when he’d stepped into Seth’s place.
This building used to house the First National Bank—as evidenced by the lettering still etched above its front door. Seth had taken out a loan years ago to purchase and renovate the abandoned building. From the rich wood beams crisscrossing overhead to the amber lighting and brick accents, the space was the perfect blend of rustic and urban. A stone fireplace ornamented one corner, where Bear used to provide live music back when The Red Door first opened.
Seth had harbored a dream for this restaurant even when it was still a worn-down, empty shell of a building with dust-covered floors and rusted vaults at the back. Sort of gave a man hope—that what started as a vision sometimes really could turn into a reality.
If only Bear could put some kind of definition to his own vision—draw a border around his desperate, unyielding desire to make his life count. To make a difference the way Annie had wanted to. The way they might have together if . . .
If he’d chosen differently.
Bear spent the next forty-five minutes winding from table to table, clearing dishes and delivering meals to customers, in between checking on Jamie and Erin.
Only when the breakfast crowd thinned and business slowed did he have a chance to give Seth the bare-bones recap of how and why he’d ended up back in Maple Valley.
“You have a brother?” Seth wiped down a table next to the one Bear was currently clearing. “Five years and you never thought to mention him?”
Bear dropped a glass in his tub. “Not my favorite topic of conversation.”
“And he’s in jail? You don’t seem all that concerned.”
There wasn’t a speck of accusation in Seth’s tone, only curiosity, confusion. “This isn’t anything new, Seth. Any mess Rio’s in is of his own making.”
“Kind of harsh, don’t you think?”
Harsh? If Seth had any idea . . .
Silverware clinked as he jostled the tub.
“What about the kids? They’re probably a little confused, aren’t they? I mean, if this trip was as impromptu as you said.”
No probably about it. Even from down in the basement, he’d heard Erin’s cries last night. By the time he’d reached the second-floor bedroom, Raegan was already in the room, comforting his niece. Bad dream, she’d said, and Erin wanted to talk to her mom.
Yeah, well, so did Bear. But each time Rosa called, she seemed in a hurry. She’d thank him repeatedly for helping with the kids, assure him all was well, and then spend the remainder of her call talking to Jamie and Erin.
He kept trying to tell himself this was perfectly normal. Kids visited relatives all the time. This visit was just a little more spur-of-the-moment than most. Rosa needed a break and he was helping out. Everything was fine.
Maybe if he repeated it long enough, he’d start to believe it.
“So, what’re you going to do, Bear? How long will Jamie and Erin be with you? After the kids go home, are you staying in town? Are you staying at Case’s indefinitely?”
What am I going to do? The question had harassed him constantly since leaving Brazil. “Do we have to play twenty questions?”
“Well, if I’m going to give you a job, it’d be nice to know how long you’re planning to stick around. Surely you’ve already fielded these questions from Rae. Is being here a short-term thing again? Long-term?”
What am I going to do?
Bear plunked the plastic tub onto the table, clattering plates and glasses and drawing attention from around the room, bringing the restaurant to a momentary hush.
“Ooo-kay.” Seth paused with his rag mid-swipe. “Message received.”
Slowly, voices cluttered the quiet once more. Head hanging, Bear dropped into the chair in front of him. “Sorry.”
Seth took a seat across from him. “You’re a lot more tightly wound than I remember, Bear.”
Tightly wound. Same words John had used before asking him to leave. “I’m . . . it’s just . . .” He rubbed his grizzled cheeks and forced a breath of calm. “This whole week—leaving Brazil, going to Atlanta, winding up here—it happened faster than I could blink and I . . . I think I’m still in shock.”
“I’m sorry, man. For the questions. For Brazil not working out. For all of it.”
“I really thought Brazil was it, you know? Maybe it still is, I don’t know. It just feels like my life is suddenly on hold.” Again. He’d already spent five years in Maple Valley, waiting to join John and Elizabeth in Brazil. He’d have gone the day he walked out of that state prison if he could’ve. But there’d been a whole slew of parole requirements that made it impossible, including a probationary period before he was eligible for a passport again.
If he hadn’t been as “tightly wound” the last time he was in town, it was because back then he’d known what was coming. He’d had his future mapped out.
Seth studied him in that searching way he had. Reminded Bear of Raegan’s dad—patient, perceptive. “Is this really such a bad thing, though, Bear? So God pressed pause. So you take a breather for a couple months. You’re only thirty-two. You don’t have to set the course for your whole life today.”
“Easy for you to say. You opened your own restaurant by the time you were thirty.”
“Ever think of just staying here? It’s not a bad place to land.”
Think of it? Sure. But seriously consider it? How could he? It’d be like betraying Annie all over again.
“Long as I’ve known you, Bear, you’ve talked about helping people. Serving. Making a difference. You could do all that here. You’ve already done it, in fact. When I thought I might never get this restaurant built, you were the friend always encouraging me.”
And it’d felt good at the time. But all along, he’d known he couldn’t stay. Not if he wanted to fulfill the vow he’d made. “I made a promise once.” To God. To himself. To Annie.
Only she hadn’t been alive to hear it.
John and Elizabeth’s daughter had been so young when she died—only days past her twenty-first birthday. She’d planned to follow in her parents’ missionary footsteps, had dreams of leaving her mark on the world. “One life at a time, Bear. That’s how we change the world. One life at a time.”
Commotion cut the troubling memory short. That was Erin’s voice screeching through the noise of the restaurant. Bear bolted from the table, hurrying into the kitchen. Jamie and Erin were both out of their seats, Erin near tears as Jamie held Bear’s phone up high.
“Guys, what’s going on?”
A tear slipped down Erin’s cheek. “He won’t let me have the phone. I just want to call Mom.�
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“Fine, take it,” Jamie huffed. “But I already told you there’s no point. She doesn’t want us.”
There was anger in Jamie’s voice.
There was hurt.
Bear’s pounding heart slowed, emotion clogging his throat where words should’ve formed. Say something.
Shan entered from the pantry, arms full of baking supplies. “I’m sorry, Bear. I only left for a second.”
“It’s okay.” It was his fault. He shouldn’t have left them for so long. The poor kids had been dragged across multiple state lines, had slept in a different bed every night for the past four nights. And he deserted them at a counter in a restaurant kitchen by themselves?
He crouched in front of them, lifting one hand to rub Erin’s back but training his eyes on Jamie. “Your mom doesn’t not want you. She loves you.”
Jamie’s brown eyes blinked, his long, curling lashes lending a trace of youthfulness to a face that otherwise seemed far too world-wise for his age.
Please, God, show me how to reach him.
“Do you want to call your mom, Jamie? Because we can do that. Right now.”
But Jamie only turned away as Erin buried her face against Bear’s shoulder.
And there was that nagging question again. What was Bear going to do?
If meeting Sara Jaminski this morning had been a surprise gift, then tonight was Christmas morning. It was laughter and food and family . . .
And so very many memories of Mom, wrapped up as stories—most of which Raegan had never heard before—all told in Sara’s dulcet, reminiscent tone.
Sara. Mom’s best friend while growing up. That was what Sara had told her earlier today. What had started as a chance conversation by the riverfront had ended with an invitation to dinner tonight.
Raegan relaxed into the cushioned chair on the second-floor deck at the back of Dad’s house. Kate and Beck and Seth and their significant others were all crowded around the patio table, fireflies and laughter dancing under the strands of white globe lights strung together overhead. They’d long since emptied every takeout container on the table. Cool evening air and a dawdling sun painted the sky in pastel wisps.
