by Glynna Kaye
“Could be. But look, the odds are that it will be free of asbestos. Just the same, I had to bring the possibility to your and Min’s attention.”
“I know.” She leaned back against the doorway. “I’m glad you did. Really. It’s just that—”
“I know we don’t see eye to eye on this project.” He stepped closer to look down at her. “But I’m not trying to throw a wrench into your plans. I only—”
Her breath caught. He had such amazing eyes.
“I only—” he repeated as though something had distracted him “—am looking out for everyone. I—”
“Daddy? Can we go home now?”
They turned as Chloe came up behind them, looking as sleepy as Delaney was beginning to feel. Eight o’clock at night was nearing an eight-year-old’s bedtime. Her own wasn’t far off. It had been a long day.
“Ready to head out?” Luke lifted her into his arms and she cuddled against him, but her attention focused on Delaney.
“I like your hair,” Chloe said softly.
Delaney smiled and self-consciously fluffed her unruly mane. As windy as it had been today, she must look a fright. “Thank you.”
“Anna likes it, too.”
“Then tell Anna thank you, as well.”
“I don’t know if Travis likes it. I’ll ask him.” Chloe pulled back slightly to look her father in the eye. “Do you like her hair, Daddy? She looks like a princess in a book, doesn’t she?”
He glanced at Delaney, studying her almost as if seeing her for the first time. Her clothes. Her hair. Delaney’s cheeks warmed when their gazes met. And held.
He abruptly looked away to brush back his daughter’s bangs. “Yes, she does look like a princess, Chloe.”
Poor Luke, bullied into that admission.
He shifted the child in his arms and she looped her own around his neck to settle in once more. Safe. Secure. Knowing she was welcomed and loved.
Luke nodded to the floor. “Like I said earlier, I have a friend in Phoenix who knows people who do this kind of testing. I’ll see if we can get it expedited.”
“Thanks.” But it would be too late for weekend work in the kitchen. She’d hoped to get started on stripping wallpaper, cleaning out drawers and cabinets and, of course, pulling up that ugly linoleum. “I guess we wait, then, to see who shows up tomorrow. And hope they bring their rakes and gloves.”
Would Luke assure her that Anna and maybe even Travis would be there to help? That he might be there, too?
He didn’t.
Why was she hoping he’d join them? The beauty of a group project like this was that it created an atmosphere conducive to teamwork and casual conversation that often evolved into deeper discussions. Discussions teens might not indulge in if mom or dad were present.
Chloe’s eyes were growing heavier by the minute. Luke noticed, too.
“Say good-night to Delaney.”
The girl waved. “Good night, Delaney.”
Luke nodded in Delaney’s direction as well, then the three of them returned to the now-empty living room where a good-hearted soul had already whisked away the punch bowl, candles and any remaining appetizers. Min, no doubt, bless her heart.
Luke paused, his voice echoing slightly in the room now devoid of furniture and draperies. “Why don’t you lock up and I’ll see you to your car?”
“Thanks, but you don’t need to do that. I’ll be fine. It’s not even completely dark yet.”
“It will be shortly. This may be a small town, Delaney, but the world is changing. And, unfortunately, not all for the better. Chloe and I’ll see you to your car, then follow you to your place. Make sure you get inside safely.”
From the look in his eyes, one that she’d seen leveled on Travis, there would be no point in debating the issue.
“Okay. Thanks.” Why did she suddenly feel safe? Protected. Dwayne was a good man in many ways, but he’d never seen her to her car. Never saw her home after she left his place or even had her call when she got home safely.
It was nice for a change to know someone cared.
No, not cared. But Luke was concerned. Cautious. Felt responsible. Probably not much different than how he felt for the welfare of his kids...or any stranger.
Why did that conclusion not make her day?
Chapter Nine
“If you’re going to follow her home like a pitiful lost pup, you should at least ask her out.”
Luke’s younger brother Grady eyed him as the two of them flipped over another of the heavy benches and placed it, seat-side down, on top of an oak-slabbed table. They’d worked in unison from one end of the Hunter’s Hideaway dining room to the other, almost without thinking, having done this nightly for most of their lives to make for easier cleaning under tables. That is, of course, except for the dozen years before Luke—the prodigal, his brother called him—had returned home.
While he hadn’t been turned away at the door and Mom and Grandma Jo were beside themselves with joy at his return, it wasn’t as if Dad had prepared a fatted calf on his behalf. Grady, who hadn’t turned his back on Hunter’s Hideaway, was still his father’s golden boy. Now his brother was poking his nose in where it didn’t belong and thought he should ask Delaney on a date? Fat chance.
“Butt out.”
Grady grinned, his lopsided smile and sturdy build reminding Luke of photos he’d seen of Grandpa Hunter in his younger days.
“Ask who out?” their little sister Rio called from the far side of the empty room where she was wiping down one of the booth tables. Little sister, of course was relative, considering she’d be twenty-one years old next spring and had been turning male heads since she was sixteen. Ever since Luke’s timely return to Hunter Ridge, he and Grady had been keeping those they believed to be unworthy suitors at a distance. Which wasn’t always something Rio appreciated.
But a brother had to do what a brother had to do, right?
Luke gave Grady a warning look as Rio approached with a curious light in her eyes. Dressed in her usual workday attire—boot-cut jeans, a too-well-fitted chambray shirt and Western boots—her layered, flaxen hair cascaded down her back. A tough little gal who saw to the welfare of the Hunter horses, she wasn’t much interested in froufrou. And thus was Anna’s idol.
“Ask who out?” she repeated, sidling up to Grady where they both fixed their gazes on their oldest brother.
“That cute youth group worker who’s leasing Charlie and Emma’s old place for the summer. He followed her home this evening.”
Rio’s eyes warmed. “You did, Luke?”
“No, I didn’t. I—” But he had. Technically, anyway.
“Yeah, he did.” Grady nodded in his direction.
“Oh, really?” Rio clucked her tongue thoughtfully.
“When I was coming home tonight,” Grady continued, “I saw Luke sitting out in his truck in front of her place while she unlocked the door, then waved goodbye.”
“Poor boy,” Rio taunted. “She didn’t invite you in for a cup of java? A good-night kiss?”
“If he doesn’t ask her out soon, the reputation of the Hunter males will be shot.” Grady, who played the field himself, shook his head, a mournful look in his eyes. “We’re not known for doing pitiful.”
Luke huffed a breath. “I saw her safely home from Bachelor Bob’s place after the youth group parents met there. That’s all I was doing. I had Chloe with me.”
“Ah.” Rio exchanged a meaningful look with Grady. “Chloe, his resident chaperone.”
Grady punched him playfully in the shoulder. “You’re going to have to keep that kid at home if you intend to make time with the ladies.”
“I don’t know about that.” His sister studied Luke openly. “Good-looking single man. Cute kid. Even has a trusty sidekick in that m
utt of his. A combo like that might melt a few female hearts.”
Luke wagged his finger at them, fighting an exasperated smile. “Look, you two—”
“What’s all the fuss about?” Eighty-year-old Grandma Jo drew their attention to the open doorway leading from the inn’s lobby. Surveying them almost regally, she placed her hands at the waist of her jeans. Luke couldn’t imagine his grandmother wearing anything else during the warmer months of the year. Denim and a collared shirt in the summer and wool slacks and a turtleneck sweater in the winter. Hair upswept and secured with combs year-round. The only time in his whole life that he’d seen her in a dress was at a wedding or funeral.
Grady grasped Luke by the shoulder. “We’re giving our big brother here a hard time.”
Just like old times. Occasionally they’d comfortably lapse into that big-bro-little-bro dynamic like they’d done this evening. But too often since Luke’s return it was awkwardly apparent that despite their birth order, Grady was their father’s right-hand man. The go-to guy. The one who would be running Hunter’s Hideaway when—if ever—Dad stepped down from that demanding role.
It galled, but Luke had only himself to blame.
“We think,” Rio filled in, “that Luke needs to start dating again. Grady believes he’s found the right woman. All he’s lacking is your approval.”
Luke snorted. Everybody knew that after the disastrous business between Uncle Doug and Aunt Char their grandmother claimed the right to vet any new additions to the family.
Grandma looked at Luke, who only shook his head, then to Grady. “And who might that woman be?”
“Delaney Marks. You’ve seen her at church. The summer youth volunteer.”
“You have an interest in this young lady, Luke?”
He shot a threatening look at Grady.
“No, ma’am, I don’t.” That was the truth. Mostly. He was a man, after all. But would he follow through on any mutual attraction? Unequivocally, no. He owed it to his kids to put them first, not to forget the role he may have played in depriving them of a mother.
But his family didn’t know about any of that and, God willing, none of them ever would.
“A shame,” his grandmother pronounced, almost as if she would have given him the go-ahead to pursue Delaney. “May I speak with you a moment, Luke? In private?”
What was he in for now? A lecture from Grandma about the importance of carrying on the family name? Hadn’t he already taken care of that with three kids? Following her from the room, he glared back at his brother who wasn’t even attempting to suppress a smile. Rio’s eyes danced with mischief.
He couldn’t wait to leave for Kansas.
He trailed his grandmother into the open space that served as a lobby and registration area, then past the staircase leading to the second-floor guest rooms. Josephine Hunter had ruled the Hunter clan since Grandpa Hunter’s passing fifteen years ago. Maybe even before that, if you considered her the power behind the throne. Her mind sharp, her attitude spunky, she carried herself with an astonishingly aristocratic bearing for a woman her age. Definitely someone to be respected, grandma or no grandma.
Together they entered a side parlor where she moved around to the far side of a mahogany desk and sat down in the chair behind it.
“Close the door, please. Then have a seat.”
He obeyed, then lowered himself into a leather wingback chair, his legs outstretched. He glanced at his watch. Ten o’clock.
“I can’t linger too long, Grandma. Chloe’s tucked in for the night and I left Travis in charge, which sometimes doesn’t set well with Anna.” The teens were allowed to stay up later on a Friday night.
“This will only take a few minutes.”
He might as well get this over with, but he’d already learned his lesson. He should have parked across the street in front of the Hunter Ridge office tonight, not in front of Delaney’s place where Grady—or anyone else in town—could see him escorting her home. What was a man who’d been raised to be a gentleman to do? He couldn’t leave her alone in that old house with night descending, could he?
“You can rest assured, Grandma, that I have no intentions of dating Delaney Marks.”
His grandmother frowned. “What I want to talk to you about has nothing to do with that young lady.”
What then? He sat up straighter in his chair, leaning slightly forward.
“Hunter Enterprises has been approached about offering a young man a part-time position, one that could potentially become permanent if it works out.”
“Doing what?” It wasn’t unusual to test-drive potential employees on a part-time basis, but why was she talking to him about it? Grady and Dad did the hiring and firing around here. Her oldest grandson was solely the resident bean counter—and one his father and brother didn’t even trust enough to take his advice that they needed to upgrade their systems.
“Grady could use more help with maintenance work since Hernando retired. He’d hoped Miles could pick up the slack, but he’s not a young man now either.”
“Yeah, he’s getting on up there.” Like Hernando, Miles had been around since he himself had been a kid. “So, what does this have to do with me?”
Grandma stood and stepped behind her chair, hands resting on the back of it. “The candidate in question has a disadvantaged background, has made mistakes in his life.”
“You’re saying he has a criminal record? Is he an ex-con?” Depending on what his conviction was for, he wouldn’t want him hanging around kids. Neither his nor those of their guests.
“No chronic criminal convictions. A first DUI.”
Driving under the influence. Drugs or alcohol? There seemed to be more than enough of that these days. No one taking responsibility for themselves or for the safety of others.
“In that case,” Luke concluded, “I think this is something better left to be decided by Dad and Grady. If they want to take responsibility for the guy, that’s their business.”
“The decision has already been made.”
He frowned. “Then I guess I don’t understand what you want from me.”
“I want you to be aware of this because...” She drew a breath. “You’ve met the young man. Have even had a few unpleasant encounters with him in the past year. And with his oldest son.”
A knot tightened in Luke’s stomach as he gripped the arms of the chair. Young man? If she was talking about who he thought she was talking about, midthirties wasn’t exactly what he’d call a young man. Then again, when you’re eighty...
Luke rose to his feet. “You’re hiring Benton Mason?”
“We are.”
“Who talked you into that kind of—” He stopped himself before uttering the word foolishness. Grandma was anything but foolish and wouldn’t take kindly to that label.
“He’s a veteran, Luke,” she said quietly. “Did you know that?”
“Veteran of what?”
“Ex-army.” Her hands tightened on the back of the chair.
Luke stared. That irresponsible artist was an army vet? “No way.”
“Iraq and Afghanistan.”
Why hadn’t anyone around here heard about that? Everyone in town knew Luke had been overseas in the thick of combat. Yet upon meeting Benton, there had been no attempt on his part to bond with a fellow veteran. No attempt to discover if they had any friends in common or to draw mutual support.
Luke grimaced. “Dishonorably discharged, then?”
Grandma shook her head. “Honorably.”
“He told you that?”
“Your father has seen the discharge papers. High Country Hope Ministries vouches for him. He and his wife have been separated since Christmas last year, although not legally. You already know about the drunk driving incident and that Hope Ministries is fixing up a place for them
to rent when he comes home to his family.”
“So Hunter’s Hideaway is supposed to foot the bill for this do-gooder experiment?”
“He’ll earn his keep.”
This risky move wouldn’t have been his choice, vet or no vet. But no one had asked his opinion. Even now, Grandma wasn’t looking for his blessing, merely informing him.
“When’s he start?”
“August. As soon as the house is finished and he can move back in with his family.”
With a shake of his head, Luke fisted his hands on his hips.
Grandma Jo stepped from around the chair. “I wanted you to know in advance, Luke, because I know you aren’t fond of him or his wife.”
“Or that annoying kid of theirs who’s caused Anna such grief.”
Her lips tightened. “I didn’t want there to be any surprises.”
A little late for that.
First Delaney, now Grandma. Was he the only person on the planet who thought Benton could only spell trouble?
* * *
Thank You, Lord. Watching the activity surrounding her on Saturday at the Mason house, Delaney gave a happy sigh of relief. They had a good turnout this morning. Showing parents and kids around the place last night hadn’t dissuaded many from signing on for the project—nor had the news that the house was for the family of Benton Mason.
So Luke had been wrong—or at least partially so. Only two parents had declined to allow their teens to participate when the name Mason had come up. She couldn’t help feeling a tiny sense of satisfaction in that. Would Luke’s concerns ease up now that he saw a handful of parents here today willing to pitch in? Would he recognize that her judgment wasn’t entirely off-base?
She scooped up another rake full of dried brown pine needles and emptied them into a thirty-nine-gallon yard bag anchored in a metal stand. Similar stands dotted the entire yard surrounding the house as teens and a scattering of parents teamed up to rake pine needles into two-foot-high “haystacks” ready for bagging.
She glanced over at Anna who, with Chloe’s help, dragged an oversize garbage bag from place to place, gathering hundreds of pristine, sun-dried pinecones the size of an adult’s fist.
