by Glynna Kaye
“Cool,” one boy chimed in, then popped a potato chip into his mouth.
“Yes, it is cool.” Delaney’s eyes now danced with excitement, the uncertainty replaced with an attractive glow. “And it’s even cooler because we can help make that happen. The new property needs sprucing up—cleaning, interior painting, yard work and minor repairs.”
Travis groaned and his girlfriend, Scottie, elbowed him.
Luke would be having a long talk with his son as soon as the opportunity presented itself.
“Their lease on the current property ends August thirty-first,” Delaney continued, ignoring Travis, “but if we can help them make that move to the new place before the first of August, their current landlord—who has other plans for the property—will see that not only is Hope Ministries’ deposit and August rent refunded, but they’ll receive a bonus for vacating a month early.”
“What will they do with the extra money?” Leave it to Anna, his resident penny-pincher, to ask that kind of question.
“The refunded rent will go toward paying winter heating bills for the family and others. And the bonus...” Delaney looked around the circle of faces. “Will go to your youth group.”
Kendrick sat up, suddenly interested. “We get the money?”
“For camp scholarships,” Delaney was quick to clarify. “Or something along those lines to be decided by the church. But even more important than the money, our reward will be helping this family—father, mother and five children—live under one roof again.”
“Five kids?” Travis leaned forward, pinning Delaney with a sharp look. “Don’t tell me this house is for the Masons. That oldest kid of theirs is a real jerk. It was good riddance when he went to live with his loser dad last year.”
Travis wasn’t exaggerating. The same age as fifteen-year-old Anna, the Mason boy had been nothing but trouble. And “loser” wasn’t an entirely inappropriate term for the kid’s father, although Travis shouldn’t have publicly called him that.
Lizzie Mason and her husband Benton were artsy types who’d settled here a few years ago. Working part-time jobs and selling their handcrafted wares, by their own choosing they’d not had an easy time of it and too often looked to others for assistance. Last summer Luke had an unpleasant run-in with Benton about delinquent rent on a commercial property and again the following autumn regarding Benton’s son. Then came the drunk driving episode that resulted in injuries that put Benton out of work and into physical therapy and alcohol rehab.
Delaney had committed the youth group to a project helping people like that? Rewarding people who’d made no effort to take responsibility for their lives? Not a good idea.
Delaney hesitated now, as if unsure how to respond to Travis’s question about the project family. “I believe...the name is Mason. The youngest is a twelve-year-old-girl.”
A few kids groaned.
Travis flopped back on the sofa, arms folded. “I’m not helping any Masons.”
A few kids laughed, but Scottie gave him a frosty look. “I think it’s a good project. Samantha is a nice little girl. She can’t help it that her father gets drunk.”
“I agree,” Sybil chimed in. “Cleaning and painting won’t take that much of our time. We’re supposed to help people in need, aren’t we? And don’t forget, the youth group gets the bonus money.”
Several others nodded agreement.
But this project seemed destined for failure. Surely there were other worthy projects to pick from. Off the top of his head, he could think of several.
“We can talk about it further when I have more detailed information to share.” Delaney gave Travis a look, as if expecting him to spout off again. “So I’ll let you return to your activities now.”
For a few silent minutes Delaney watched them settle back in to their board games, then headed to the kitchen. Grabbing the opportunity to speak with her in private, Luke joined her a few minutes later. When he rapped his knuckles on the door frame, she glanced up from the sink where she was rinsing dishes with a vengeance, then dried her hands on a dish towel, her eyes questioning.
Unexpectedly, his breath caught as the light glinted off the soft waves of golden hair. She’d pulled it off her forehead with a tiny green ceramic frog clip, and her peach-colored cotton top, adorned with embroidered butterflies, complemented her coloring and those beautiful hazel eyes.
“Is there something I can help you with, Luke? More snacks? Ice? Lemonade?”
“No, no. The food was great. Plentiful. Exactly what kids that age enjoy most.”
She nodded as if relieved. “Good.”
He leaned a shoulder against the refrigerator and studied her for a moment, not sure how to begin. “Actually, I want to apologize for Travis’s behavior this evening.”
Surprise flickered through her eyes.
“He’s usually a laid-back kid, easy to get along with. But something got into him tonight and we’ll be having a talk when my temper cools.”
She stared down at the floor for a moment, almost as if counting to ten, then back up at him. “Don’t be too hard on him. You were right about what you’d mentioned the other day. Some of the kids, especially the boys, are disappointed that the original summer intern bailed.”
“That’s no excuse for discouraging the others from participating in this evening’s planned activities. He basically shut down discussion.”
She raised a delicate brow. “I’m not sure that it was entirely Travis’s fault.”
As he’d suspected, she was taking the blame. “Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
Her eyes widened. “I’m not—”
He held up his hand to stay the apology forming on her lips. “Tonight’s behind us, tomorrow’s a clean slate. But I do believe more thought needs to be given to your choice of summer projects.”
A crease formed between her brows. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “You’re new to town. You don’t know the history behind the Masons. Benton’s an artist whose last drunk driving episode got him thrown out of the house. Lizzie’s trying to make a go of candle making and textile design, but why she insisted on staying here alone with four of the five children is beyond me. And now it sounds as if her husband and oldest son intend to come back to town, too. But Lizzie and Benton need to get their artsy heads out of the clouds, relocate and find real jobs.”
“It’s my understanding,” Delaney said quietly, “that she’s holding down several jobs and her husband has successfully completed alcohol rehabilitation.”
“That’s all well and good. But what if he comes back here and discovers nothing has changed? That making a go of their artistic pursuits is no more lucrative and parenting five kids isn’t any easier now than it was before?”
Delaney again stared at the floor. That counting to ten business again. Then she raised her eyes to his. “I understand your concerns, but High Country Hope Ministries feels strongly that this family deserves a second chance. That they have a good possibility of succeeding this time. I’ve already committed us to it. We can’t back out. They’re counting on us.”
With a shake of his head, he pushed away from the refrigerator. “What’s the timeline on this again?”
“We have to be done by the end of July if Hope Ministries is to relocate the family, have the August rent returned and the youth group granted the bonus. Otherwise August thirty-first, with no refund and no bonus.”
“That first deadline is only seven or eight weeks away.” No, she hadn’t thought this through. “Kids have family vacations scheduled, music and sports camps, summer jobs. They aren’t going to be available all day, every day. Maybe not much at all.”
“I don’t think it will take long to clean and paint. To do yard work. Garrett thought it entirely doable.”
“You’re assuming, too,” he count
ered, “that you’ll get buy-in from the kids. That Mason boy was a bully and a brat. Not well liked. Be prepared for pushback from some parents, too.”
“Pushback?” She folded her arms, her chin lifting. “Like from you?”
“I’m not—” Well, maybe he was. “When will we get to take a look at this property?”
Her eyes narrowed—not caring for the we he’d thrown in there? He’d have found that fiery spark in her gaze more than a bit attractive had it not been leveled at him.
“I’m sorry, Delaney, but I’m not committing my kids to the project until I know more about it. Other parents will feel the same. Some of us have participated in past projects right along with our children. It’s a good family bonding experience.”
Her frown deepened. She took exception to fostering parent-kid time?
She took a deep breath. “I’ll arrange for us to see the property this next week. Maybe invite parents for an overview meeting with a Hope Ministries representative. Does that meet your expectations?”
“It’s a start.”
But it was clear that with Delaney in charge, he’d have to keep an even closer eye on the youth group. Exactly what he didn’t have time for right now.
* * *
“Does Travis and Anna’s dad come to a lot of the youth activities?”
Determined to calm—or confirm—her worst fears, Delaney had detained Garrett when he returned and everyone else dispersed for the night. It appeared she’d be seeing a lot of Mr. Hunter this summer, but under circumstances she’d prefer to avoid.
Garrett offered a grin. “He’s one of those involved parents I mentioned to you earlier.”
Involved.
As in engaged. Committed. On board.
In other words, in the way and messing up the youth group vibe.
How could she draw out the teens and get them to open up and share with her and each other if he conducted surveillance from the sidelines as he’d done this evening? When she’d hinted that tonight’s less-than-satisfactory level of participation wasn’t due solely to Travis, he’d had the gall to urge her not to blame herself.
And to think only a short while ago she’d hoped to see him more often. Be careful what you wish for?
“Travis didn’t seem too thrilled to have him here.”
“When you were seventeen, would you have wanted your father keeping watch over you and your pals, listening in on every word you said?”
Actually, she’d have given almost anything if it meant her father would still be alive. But she could see there was a problem here. If her most recent encounter with Luke was indicative of what she could expect from him, he had an opinion on everything. And, like her ex-boyfriend and Aunt Jen, felt called upon to offer unsolicited advice.
“Have you talked to Luke about this?” Maybe she could enlist Garrett’s support. “Explained that he needs to back off and give his teenagers breathing space?”
“Only a hundred times.”
She placed her hands on her hips. Some people were clueless and it aggravated her that Luke was one of them. “Doesn’t he realize being a helicopter dad, hovering over them all the time, isn’t healthy for the kids—or for him?”
And it made her nervous.
“I think he’s aware it causes friction at times, but it’s hard for him to let go. He takes being a dad seriously.”
Delaney snorted.
“Too seriously, if you ask me. Like, hello?” She didn’t care for Luke disrupting the youth group project dynamics. That is, if the project got off the ground. “I’m sure his kids think ‘Get a life, Dad.’”
“Probably. But don’t be too hard on him. He’s had a rough time of it.”
“How so?” Is this where she’d hear about the nightmare of an ex-wife? There had to be a story behind that sadness she sometimes glimpsed in his eyes, something beneath this overinvolved, overprotective dad stuff.
Garrett glanced away as if unwilling to say anything further.
“I assume,” she prompted, not wanting to be left hanging, her questions unanswered, “you’re alluding to a nasty divorce?”
For a long moment he remained silent. Then he shook his head.
“A divorce would be bad enough, but no. Not a divorce.” He massaged the back of his neck with his hand, obviously reluctant to continue.
A knot formed in her stomach. Had the children’s mother died as had hers? An accident? Health issues?
“If I’m going to spend my summer with these kids—and apparently their father, too—don’t you think I should have a clear understanding of the situation?”
Garrett let out a pent-up breath. “Yeah, I suppose that’s only fair. But if I tell you, you can’t say anything to Luke, okay? He doesn’t like to talk about it and he wouldn’t like me or anyone else talking about it, either.”
“I won’t say anything.” She mimed zipping her lips. “I promise.”
“Then it’s like this, Delaney...” Garrett’s bleak gaze held hers. “Luke’s wife—the mother of his kids—killed herself six years ago.”
Chapter Four
Looking out the window where he was seated at the rustic Log Cabin Café, Luke paused, his coffee cup halfway to his lips.
Where was Delaney Marks off to this Monday morning, her head held high and a portfolio tucked under one arm? Her hair, swept into a low ponytail, bounced between her shoulder blades and a print skirt matching a solid sage-green top swirled around her ankles.
Oh, right. She’d said something about wanting to get her jewelry sold through the Hunter Ridge Artists’ Co-op. Maybe that’s where she was going? He didn’t know a whole lot about that kind of thing, but he’d been honest when he’d said he liked her work. His younger sister Rio would likely pounce on one of those rings.
Now immediately across the road from the café, Delaney jerked to a halt. She started to turn away as if to return from where she’d come, then halted again. Opening the portfolio, she reached inside to check its contents. Then seemingly satisfied that all was as it should be, she closed it up and tucked it under her arm once again. And away she went.
He couldn’t help but smile—and utter a silent prayer that she’d find a home for her jewelry. He wasn’t particularly thrilled with the influx of artisans into town, but what could one more hurt?
“Enjoying the scenery, are you, Luke?”
Yanked from his reverie, he downed the remainder of his coffee and faced the café’s owner. A big bruiser of a guy in his early sixties, he sported a shiny shaved head and close-cropped beard. A former Marine, he wasn’t someone you’d care to meet in a dark alley if he didn’t call you friend.
“Looks to be a nice day, Packy.”
“I figured you might think that.” His friend chuckled as Luke lifted a hand to stop a coffee refill. “Pretty gal, isn’t she? I heard she’s helping with the Christ’s Church youth program this summer. Better keep an eye on Travis.”
Packy winked, and Luke’s fingers involuntarily tightened on the cup. “Travis already has a girlfriend.”
What was he saying? Girlfriend or no girlfriend, Delaney was way too old to be potential sweetheart material for his son. Just as she was way too young for him.
“Maybe so. But boys will be boys and that little lady is a sure-enough eye catcher.” Packy chuckled again, handed him his bill, and moved on to the next table.
Thanks a lot, buddy, for giving me another thing to worry about. He and Travis had talked before he’d left for school and it was mutually agreed that he owed Delaney an apology. He was proud of that boy—most of the time. Had he given his own dad so much grief as a teen?
Probably, if their current relationship was any indication. Please, Lord, don’t let me and Travis end up in the same place as I am with Dad.
He glanced at the slip
of paper Packy had given him, pulled cash from his wallet, then tucked the bills under his coffee cup. He needed to get going. He had more important things to do today than gawk at Delaney Marks. At any woman for that matter. But when he stepped outside, he couldn’t help but scan the street for some sign of her.
She’d already disappeared.
He called to Rags, who’d been basking in the sun outside the café, then held open the door to his Chevy crew cab for the pup to make a running leap inside. While they kept office space here in town for the sake of convenience, Hunter’s Hideaway was the heart and soul of Hunter Enterprises and he needed to get on back to home base.
The Hideaway, as most called the extensive, wooded property, had been in the family for six generations. In fact, it was the first business on the ridge, one started by his great-great-grandparents to accommodate the needs of hunters and back-country explorers in the early 1900’s. Originally only a handful of cabins and a corral, it set the tone for a town that would soon follow. What would his ancestors think of it now? Boasting dozens of cabins, an inn with dining facilities, a general store, horse boarding, trail rides and more, it kept Luke’s extended family busy around the clock.
He had a lot to get done today, but business with a potential hay supplier had required a breakfast meeting in town. It was already past nine now and he had more than enough to do to fill the coming hours.
“The day’s getting away from us, Rags.”
The dog sitting on the seat next to him perked his ears, tail wagging, and Luke gave him a hearty pat just as his cell phone rang.
“How goes it, Luke?” The voice of his old army comrade, Josh, echoed warmly across the miles.
About eight hundred miles, to be exact. If all went as hoped, he’d be able to drive the kids from Kansas back to Hunter Ridge for most major holidays and a few weeks each summer. But he wasn’t ready to break that news to them just yet.
He inserted the key in the ignition and rolled down the window on the driver’s side. “I guess congratulations are in order for that diploma a few weeks ago. Assuming you didn’t get kicked out the door before graduation day, that is.”
