“Great place you have here. I’m sure I’ll love it.”
The waitress, a young, friendly female replica of Frank, took their order, Daniel asking her to put a rush on it if possible. Then he leaned his forearms on the table. “I’ve been studying your shop.”
She dragged away her gaze from his and focused on jars of baby food, opening them. Snapping a bib around Will’s neck. “Oh?”
“I noticed you don’t have a website. Could really use new, more visible signage. Need to advertise.”
Each word out of his mouth shot up her blood pressure another notch. So much to do and with limited funds.
He slid a list toward her. “I can help you increase your business traffic.”
The worst part was she suspected she might need help. Though her aunt hadn’t been much of a businesswoman, she’d been loving, fun, generous—and talented. Talitha herself had been the business’s biggest asset.
A cold fist squeezed inside Lilly’s chest. She could never take Talitha’s place.
A blob of green beans dripped off Will’s chin onto her thumb.
Daniel took hold of her hand and swiped it off with a napkin. Contact with his hand shut out everything else around her. Made her zoom in on the spot where they touched.
That level of awareness disturbed her. She pulled away her hand. “I can clean off my own baby food.” When she realized how ridiculous that had sounded, she laughed. “I mean, clean it off myself.”
His expression teased, almost as if he understood how he’d affected her. “Just trying to help.”
Trying to help feed her nephew. Trying to help run her business. What next? Trying to help run her life?
No, thank you. She’d been there, done that, and had the emotional scars left by an ex-fiancé to prove it.
She might end up having to rent the shop’s basement to Daniel. But she didn’t need any other involvement with a man who made her heart race just by touching her thumb.
She firmly planted the spoon on the table and steeled herself to look into his gorgeous eyes. “I appreciate your taking the time to evaluate The Yarn Barn. But I don’t think there’s anything you can do at this point. We don’t have the money.”
Daniel opened his mouth to respond, but movement drew his attention away.
“Dada!” Will pursed his lips and blew mashed green bean bubbles that splattered into her face.
Lilly swiped off the mess as the waitress delivered their pizza and her brother-in-law approached his son. The first time they’d seen him since he had left Jenna two days ago.
* * *
Daniel let the conversation with Lilly drop and greeted Ned.
Ned ruffled his son’s hair and nodded. “Daniel. Lilly.”
“Dada!” Will grinned and strained to reach for his father.
“Hang on, big guy.” Ned wiped his son’s hands and then lifted him out of the high chair. “I’m glad I found you, Lilly. I tried to call earlier, to arrange picking up my boy, here.”
Lilly gave her brother-in-law an odd look, as if nervous around him. “I’m sorry. My phone’s been off since I met with the accountant.”
“Jenna told me that you were in a meeting.”
Lilly’s eyes lit up. “So you two have talked?”
With red-streaked cheeks, Ned cut a glance at Daniel. “Not really. I called to set up a visit with Will.”
A visit? Had he and Jenna separated?
Ned tucked Will under his chin and kissed the top of his head. “I’m sorry I haven’t been by. I’ve been trying to find an apartment.”
“Your son misses you. Jenna misses you.”
Daniel rose from his seat. “I can take Will and let you two talk.”
“No, stay, eat your lunch,” Ned said. “You’re my pastor. It’s time you know what’s going on.”
Motioning for him to join them, Daniel sat. Lilly scooted over, and Ned, holding his son, slid in the booth beside her. She didn’t seem angry with her brother-in-law. If her attitude was any indication of Jenna’s, maybe there was hope of reconciliation.
As he and Lilly ate, Ned filled Daniel in.
Ned brushed a finger over his son’s arm. “So we’ve separated. I have to take responsibility for that. But we argued about everything. Then Jenna told me that she didn’t need me. That I might as well go ahead and leave.”
“Have you had marriage counseling?” Daniel asked.
“She refuses.”
Lilly shook out some Cheerios for Will. “She’s just scared, you know. Expecting you to leave at any time. She thinks it’s easier to push you away before she gets hurt.”
Daniel suspected the sisters shared that trait. Maybe from growing up with those “rotten parents”?
“Look, Lilly, I know what a tough childhood you and Jenna had,” Ned said. “But she’s pushed me away for a long time. I can’t take it anymore.” He stood with his son in his arms. “Jenna said it’s okay for me to take Will until after dinner.”
“He’ll enjoy that.” Lilly, with a pale face and a sheen of unshed tears in her pretty hazel eyes, gathered Will’s diaper bag, then told Ned and Will goodbye.
Daniel said, “I’m sorry your family is struggling right now.”
She glanced at him, looked away then once again met his eyes. “We’ll make it through.”
“A rough childhood makes depending on someone difficult, even when you’re all grown up.” He touched her hand, couldn’t resist offering some sort of comfort.
She glanced down at their hands. “Are you speaking from experience?”
He suddenly recalled his mom sitting in the bleachers alone at football games, an empty seat cushion next to her, the spot his dad had promised to fill. Then after she had died, no one in the bleachers. Frozen dinners alone. His dad coming home and shutting himself in his home office.
He glanced at his watch. “Oh, look. I’ve almost passed the hour lunch I promised.”
She’d turned the tables on him. But he never shared his past with anyone. Daniel had never been able to fill the void after his mother’s death, or to pull Blake out of his grief. To share that would be too painful. Especially now. A pastor needed to look capable and inspire confidence if he hoped to help others, to make a difference.
Lilly gave him a look that said she knew he was avoiding the topic.
He simply flagged down the waitress and paid the bill.
As they walked out of Frank’s, cold air slapped him in the face. His cell phone vibrated. Normally, he’d ignore it, but the screen showed the caller was Cricket’s mother. “Excuse me a second. I need to take this.”
On the other end of the line, the woman sobbed uncontrollably. Sick dread slammed him in the gut. “Mrs. Quincy, what’s wrong?”
“Cricket took a bunch of pills. We’re at the emergency room in Appleton.”
“Is she going to be okay?”
“They’ve given her an antidote that’s been pretty successful in similar cases. We have to wait. And pray. Please get Miss Ann to start the prayer chain.”
“I will. I’m on my way.” Lord, protect Cricket and the baby. Please let this treatment work.
Lilly stood beside him, her arms hugged around her waist. “What happened?”
“I need to head to the hospital. A teenage girl from the church is in the ER.”
“Do you need a ride?” she asked without any hesitation. A woman who saw a need and jumped in with a solution.
He started to decline, but the offer would save time since he’d walked to town that morning. “Thanks.”
They rushed to the car. Lilly backed out of the parking spot, and they sped toward Appleton. He called his grandmother and filled her in, asking her to get the town praying.
“The situation sounds awful. Anything I can do to
help?” Lilly asked.
“Nothing. Unless you feel led to pray.”
Sick at heart, he stared out the window as they zipped past The Yarn Barn. Surely he could’ve done more. Could have done something besides set up another meeting for next week. Maybe if he’d called her that morning like he’d meant to...
Except for his brief directions to the hospital, they drove the next ten minutes in silence.
“I hope she’ll be okay,” Lilly said.
The hospital came into sight. He pointed her toward the emergency entrance. “She’s fifteen and pregnant. And I failed her.”
“I don’t know the whole situation.” She reached out and touched his sleeve. “But I know you care. I’m sure that helps. More than you probably realize.”
As the car came to a stop out front, their eyes locked, her compassionate gaze soothing him, making him wish for... But at the moment, he had no time for wishing.
He gave her hand a squeeze, a thank-you for understanding him, and then climbed out.
“Wait. Here’s my phone number.” She jotted it on a piece of scrap paper out of her purse. “Call me when you’re ready to leave. Any time, even if it’s late.”
Touched by her offer, he took the paper. “Thanks for bringing me.”
“I’m sure you’ll be a comfort to the girl’s family.”
He shut the door and hurried through the ER entrance. A comfort? How much good was he as a pastor if he hadn’t been able to help Cricket see God was big enough to handle her problems, that God had a plan for her life?
Mrs. Quincy paced the floor, a tissue wadded up between her hands, her face streaked with tears. Her pain enough to bring him to his knees, he repeated the prayer circulating in his head. Lord, don’t let Cricket die. Protect her baby.
He steeled his spine and crossed the waiting room, determined to do more for the hurting teenagers. The kids God had led him to in Corinthia and the neighboring Appleton community had many problems—family struggles, run-ins with the law, failure in school. And Cricket wasn’t the only pregnant high schooler.
He couldn’t let them down.
The problem was, he was good at starting churches, good at preaching, good at planning outreach ministries. But apparently, when it came to helping the hurting, he fell short.
The pain on Lilly’s face whenever she mentioned her childhood etched itself into his brain.
He had to steer clear of beautiful, thoughtful Lilly. Or he would let her down, as well.
Chapter Three
Lilly couldn’t help but worry about Cricket. Yet she was glad she’d been able to take Daniel there, to support her family. He seemed to think he’d failed, but all she saw was a man who cared. Who did what he could to help. Like pray.
The fact Daniel and others, including Ann, were praying for the teen, somehow soothed Lilly.
Thinking of Ann reminded Lilly she needed to ask her to teach knitting classes, so instead of stopping at The Yarn Barn, she bypassed it and headed to town. On the way, she watched for the signage problems Daniel had mentioned.
How had she not noticed that in one direction, they had no store sign at all, and the other, the wooden sign was partially covered? She would have to rectify the situation soon.
When Ann answered her front door, she looked surprised, then pleased. “Lilly, I’m glad you came for the prayer vigil.”
Alarm shot through her. “Uh...no. I actually came to ask a huge favor.”
“I’ll help however I can.”
She decided to be direct, honest. “I desperately need your assistance, and Daniel suggested I contact you. I can’t knit or crochet, and we need to start holding classes to build community, to keep the business afloat.”
Silence. Not good.
“Could you teach? I’ll offer you half the class tuition,” Lilly said quickly. “And you can pick your hours.”
“Oh, it’s not the money. I’d be delighted to teach one class a week. But aren’t you going to rent out the basement to Daniel? That income would surely help more than one of my classes.”
Lilly’s heart sank. She’d hoped Ann might teach two or three. “I’m still going through Aunt Talitha’s records and am considering renting to the church. If you could teach a class or two, I’d be grateful.”
“I think I could manage one every Thursday afternoon. But please take advantage of the rental income.” Ann put a firm hand on Lilly’s shoulder and gave what she suspected was a stern grandmotherly look. “I’m sure Talitha would want you to honor her agreement with Daniel.”
Embarrassment stung Lilly’s face. “You’re right.” Besides, if Ann was only willing to teach one class, they would need that rent money. “Thanks for offering to teach. You’re a lifesaver.”
The woman’s expression morphed into pure happiness. “Good, then. It’s settled.”
As Lilly drove back to The Yarn Barn, she made plans to locate and organize the tax documents, to try to make sense of all the accountant had told her.
And to inform her sister they would have tenants.
When Lilly walked in the shop, her sister met her at the door.
“The supplier called, the one Aunt Talitha has had for ages. He found out she died, and that you and I placed the recent large order. He’s demanding a big payment next week.”
Her stomach sank to her toes. “Next week?” The word week ended on a squeak. “He always let Talitha pay over ninety days.”
Tears filled Jenna’s eyes. “I don’t know if I can handle one more problem.”
Torn, Lilly wasn’t sure whether to use tough love or to give Jenna a break. “We’re business owners now. We have to handle it.”
A spark of irritation flashed in her sister’s eyes. Good. Irritation was better than the recent sadness.
“It’s more than just this place,” Jenna said. “My husband left me. He left me. And he’s already insisting on spending time with our child.” She let out a quiet sob. “I can’t bear thinking of our lives turning into a shared custody agreement.”
“You told him to leave.” She said it softly, tenderly. “He’s apartment hunting. It’s time for you ask him to come home.”
“Easy for you to say. You’ve never been married and had to worry about someone you love leaving and breaking your heart.”
Lilly’s heart squeezed in pain. She’d quit her job and sold her condo to follow her fiancé, Clint, across the country, willing to move even though she’d promised herself she would never move for a man. Only to discover he was uprooting them to hide a fling with a married coworker.
She’d been too humiliated to tell her own sister. Jenna thought Lilly had broken the engagement over the move.
So no, she had never married. But she knew about the loss of hopes and dreams, knew the pain of betrayal and a broken heart.
Lilly pushed away the painful memories. “I may not know exactly what you’re going through, but I know your son needs you. And I need you. So you can’t let this knock you down. I raised you to be stronger than this.”
Jenna mumbled something about Lilly not being her mother as she busied herself straightening the yarn bins.
“Now, little sister, I suggest you go after your husband and work out your problems. Before he leases that apartment. Because, I tell you what. The man looked miserable today. He misses you.”
Jenna glanced up, stricken. “Does he really? You’re not just saying that?”
“He really does.”
Jenna pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. “I doubt he’ll answer if I call.”
“You won’t know until you try.”
“You’re right. Maybe I’ll talk to him when he brings Will home.”
“Good for you. Now...I came in here to tell you Ann is only willing to teach one class a week. So I think we
should honor Aunt Talitha’s promise to rent the basement to the church.”
Jenna’s green eyes looked huge in her pale face. “Lilly, are we going to make it? The shop, I mean. Because I can’t bear to think we might lose it.”
They wouldn’t lose it if Lilly could help it. Determined to use her good business sense, and not the emotions that seemed to have taken over since Daniel first walked through the door, she made a vow to put the shop first. “We’ll be fine if we rent to Daniel’s church. He’s even offered to have his church members begin refinishing the basement, taking expenses for supplies out of the rent money. Using volunteer labor.”
“Sounds like it’s a deal we can’t refuse.”
“I agree. And if we ask for a security deposit, maybe we’ll have enough to pay the supplier, or at least get him off our back.” As much as she’d like to resist having him around, and resist changing her plan for the basement, she needed to make wise choices.
As Lilly dug through boxes of Talitha’s records for the next few hours, she considered her options for marketing the store. Daniel had been right. She needed to make the shop more visible. Needed to consider inexpensive and free advertising. With his office in her basement, she’d have easy access to his advice...should she choose to take it.
Daniel. She couldn’t shake him from her mind.
The man sat at the hospital in an impossible situation with that poor family. They probably hadn’t had dinner. And he would need a ride home.
This is not good. She had to quit thinking about him. The man was too attractive for his own good. For her own good.
And he was kind and good and, she suspected, trustworthy. All dangerous, because those qualities made her want to know him better. To spend time with him.
She should call and offer to take by some sandwiches. See if he—they—needed anything. To try to be a friend to him—them.
Or course, anything beyond friendship wasn’t wise. Because once she and Jenna revived the business and sold it into capable hands, she would be taking her half of the proceeds and returning to Kentucky to follow her own dream. Of starting work as a freelance photojournalist.
Georgia Sweethearts Page 4
