Child of Grace (Love Inspired)

by Irene Hannon

  Head reeling from her rapid-fire delivery, he nodded. “I think so.”

  “Did you prepare any talking points?”

  “I thought I’d just answer the reporter’s questions.”

  She shook her head. “Not good enough. You have to guide the interview. No matter what you’re asked, no matter what the reporter’s agenda, you have to make sure you get your message out.” Pushing up from the table, she moved over to her desk, plucked up a printed sheet and handed it to him.

  He skimmed the bullet points, impressed. In a few lines, she’d captured the key messages he needed to convey to the media, the congregations and any other groups he might address. The who, what, where, why and how were all laid out for him, with suggestions for ways to give the story the kind of emotional appeal that would tug at the heartstrings—and persuade people to open their wallets.

  “This is great.” He looked up. “Hannah suggested I have lunch at the tearoom, so I’ll study this while I eat and jot down some notes.” He shot her an admiring look as he folded the sheet of paper in half. “I have a feeling you left a big hole in your company when you walked away.”

  She gave a rueful shake of her head. “In the corporate world, no one is missed for long. Besides, I prefer to apply my skills to my own business. Although it took a—” She stopped. Moistened her lips. “…a strong wake-up call for me to realize I’d rather make my mark in my own business than in someone else’s.”

  “What kind of wake-up call?” He knew it was a gamble to ask. She’d been skittish and close-mouthed around him since they’d met. Yet she’d seemed relaxed around Hannah, shared some of her history with his sister. Maybe she felt comfortable enough with him by now to answer that question. Wrong.

  “Long story.” She brushed him off with a wave of her hand and moved on. “Anyway, I’m doing a major overhaul of my grandmother’s website, and I’ll be targeting very specific media with story ideas that should generate orders for the shop.”

  Okay. Fine. She wanted to stick to business, he’d stick to business.

  And try not to let it bother him that she was willing to talk to Hannah but not to him.

  “That sounds like it may be very effective. But how much can one person produce?”

  “It depends. Custom-designed, hand-sewn quilts like that one—” she gestured to the in-progress blue-and-green number he’d noticed earlier “—are very high-end, very time-consuming…and very expensive. My grandmother used the income from them to supplement her Social Security, but I need to earn a living. So I also do machine-quilted commissions. And I’ve turned lots of my designs into smaller items that could even be outsourced and mass-produced.” She gestured to the sheet of paper in his hand. “Now you’d better start prepping. The interview is in an hour and a half. Where are you meeting the reporter?”

  “At St. Francis.”

  “Good choice. Have him get a few quotes from Father Joe, too, if you can.”

  “Luke.” Hannah hissed at him from between two of the quilts that separated the shops. “Are you eating here or not? We’re down to our last piece of asparagus quiche.”

  “I’ll be right over.”

  “Okay.” Her head disappeared and the quilts fell back into place.

  He refocused on Kelsey. “It sounds like my sister has made herself at home here. She mentioned sitting in on a quilting class this afternoon.”

  “Yes. It’s a beginner class that will meet every afternoon this week. By Friday, everyone will have designed and stitched a small wall hanging. If she decides to continue to help at Tea for Two, the timing will work out great. And you won’t have to worry about who she’s with. Or what she’s doing.”

  “I think I’ve gotten past that.”

  “I’m sure Hannah will be relieved.” Kelsey’s mouth twitched, drawing his attention to her lips.

  With an effort, he dragged his gaze back to her eyes. Some wariness still lurked in their depths, but a flash of humor gave him an intriguing peek at her playful side. He’d spotted it for a moment yesterday, too, when Hannah had ribbed him at Pumpernickel’s about drawing admiring glances. Kelsey had seemed poised to join in the fun, but then she’d backed off. At the time, he’d been grateful. Now, he wished she’d followed her instincts. He had a feeling he’d have enjoyed being teased by her.

  And this line of thought was not going to help him prepare for the interview.

  He lifted his hand and waved the paper. “Wish me luck.”

  “You’ll do fine. Just speak from the heart.”

  “Right.”

  Retracing his steps to the front of the shop, he crossed into Tea for Two and let Hannah show him to a table. As he ate his meal and jotted notes on the sheet Kelsey had prepared for him, he replayed her final instruction in his mind.

  Speak from the heart.

  It might not be easy, but he could do that. This was his final, self-imposed mission, and he didn’t intend to fail. Letting Carlos down wasn’t an option. If he had to reach deep for the emotions locked in his heart, he’d do so. The outcome mattered too much to let his usual self-contained manner and self-control get in the way.

  And there was another outcome that mattered, too—finding out what made his wary neighbor tick.

  But he was far less clear on his motivation for that mission.

  “Today was so cool, Luke!”

  As he spread mayo on their turkey sandwiches, Luke smiled at Hannah while she put the cutlery and condiments on a tray. “My sister, the waitress. And here I thought you wanted to be a lawyer.”

  “Very funny.” She wrinkled her nose and pointed a fork at him. “Dorothy is great, and I had a lot of fun. Tomorrow she said she’d let me bake a batch of the scones and give me tips along the way.” She set the fork on the table, and her tone grew melancholy. “You know, she kind of reminds me of Grandma Turner.”

  His father’s mother had died three years ago, and while her passing had saddened Luke, he’d never had the relationship with her Hannah had enjoyed. Margaret Turner had moved in with the family six years ago from her home in North Carolina, and from everything his mother had told him, she and Hannah had hit it off from the beginning.

  Kind of like Kelsey and her grandmother had, from what he’d been able to discern.

  And speaking of Kelsey…

  Luke cut the two sandwiches in half and set them on plates, adding some potato salad he’d picked up at the deli in the grocery store on his way home from the interview. “I know you miss Grandma, Hannah. But I’m glad you like Ms. Martin. Kelsey seems to have adopted her as a grandmother, too. So how did the quilting class go?” Not the smoothest or most empathetic segue. But it would have to do.

  “It was fun. I never thought I was all that artistic, but Kelsey worked with me and we came up with a great design. It will look fabulous in my room at home. She was really good with the other three ladies in the class, too. What a nice person.” She added napkins to the tray and began filling glasses with water. “I can’t believe she never got married. You’d think the guys would be flocking around her. But she said she was always too busy with her career to think about romance.”

  Luke stared at his sister. “Kelsey’s never been married?”

  “No.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I asked.”

  “You asked? Just like that?”

  She shot him a “get real” look. “Hey, give me some credit, okay? I’m not that tactless. I asked if she was a widow.”

  Better. But not by much. “Don’t you think she’d have told you that if she wanted you to know?”

  Setting the glasses of water on the tray, Hannah propped her hands on her hips. “My dear brother, if you don’t ask questions, people think you’re not interested in them. She wasn’t offended, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “Good.” He angled toward the sink on the pretense of rinsing his hands, and strove for a casual tone. “So, if she’s not a widow, where’s the baby’s father?”

>   Hannah picked up the tray and headed for the back door. “I don’t know. All she said was that he wasn’t part of her life. That’s when I stopped asking questions.” She pushed the door open with her hip, walked across the deck and began unloading the tray on the glass-topped table.

  As he added a small bunch of grapes to each plate, Luke mulled over this latest piece of news. It didn’t add up. When they’d first met, he thought Kelsey might have been in an abusive relationship with a husband or boyfriend. The scar would suggest that.

  But now that he’d gotten to know her a little, had heard Reverend Howard sing her praises, had glimpsed her strong faith, that seemed less likely. She didn’t strike him as someone who would put up with abuse.

  Perhaps she’d had other problems that had led her to make a mistake, though. She’d been in a high-pressure job, and she’d been focused on climbing the corporate ladder. Had she turned to drugs or alcohol to help her cope with the stress and the demands? And while under the influence of one of those, had she had a lapse in judgment that had produced this pregnancy? Was that the wake-up call she’d referred to earlier today?

  An unwanted pregnancy could certainly account for her ambivalent feelings about the baby she was carrying. Yet from what he could see, she was doing all the right things to protect the health of her unborn child.

  “Are you coming, Luke?” Hannah pushed open the back door and gave him a questioning look.

  “Yeah. I’m on my way.”

  He picked up their plates and headed for the deck, more confused than ever about Kelsey Anderson.

  And doubly determined to ferret out his mystery neighbor’s secrets.

  Chapter Nine

  Kelsey stared in the bathroom mirror and sighed as she dried her hands on a paper towel. Though she’d done her best this morning, there was no disguising the bruise-like shadows beneath her eyes, the fine lines of tension at the corners of her mouth or her pallor. That’s what two weeks’ worth of fitful slumber could do to a person.

  When she’d discussed her sleep problems with Dr. Evans yesterday, however, her OB hadn’t been too concerned. In fact, the doctor had pronounced both her and the baby in good health, though Kelsey hadn’t gained as much weight as expected. Even if she did feel huge.

  Resigned to her wan appearance, she tossed the paper towel into the trash, tucked her hair behind her ear and headed back out front to wrap up the final session of her five-day introduction-to-quilting course. Juggling the class and a behind-schedule quilt commission with the PR work for the fast-track youth center project had been taxing, and she was glad the week was coming to an end. But all of her students had been eager and interested, and their enthusiasm had reenergized her. At least for an hour and a half a day.

  As she emerged into the shop, she saw Luke hovering in the background. Her heart tripped into double time as he flashed her a smile, and she lifted a hand in response. An unsteady hand. The very reaction that had convinced her to follow Dorothy’s advice and set up an appointment for tonight with Dr. Walters. Her handsome neighbor was bothering her way too much.

  She exchanged a few words with each of her students, smiling her thanks as they showered her with praise and departed one by one. When only Hannah was left, Luke came forward.

  They’d talked a few times during the week, to hammer out details on interviews and speaking engagements, but there’d been no impromptu trips for brunch. No shared beach time. Hannah had told her Luke hadn’t had a minute to himself. When he wasn’t doing interviews or speaking to civic groups, he was busy meeting with potential benefactors and helping with details for the dinner/auction, which would be held a few nights before he left.

  In other words, he was doing what he’d come here to do. Focusing on his mission.

  But she’d missed seeing him.

  Yet another reason to make an appointment with Dr. Walters.

  She edged behind the work table as he approached. “Sorry I couldn’t give Hannah a ride home tonight, as usual.”

  He stopped a few feet away. “No problem. It was nice to have an excuse to stop by.”

  Why?

  Their gazes locked, and for a moment she was afraid she’d voiced that question. Flustered, she broke eye contact and picked at a piece of lint on her shirt, searching desperately for something to say.

  In the silence, Hannah looked from her to Luke—and back again.

  The expression on the young woman’s face went from perplexed to surprised to smug in a heartbeat, and Kelsey narrowed her eyes. She knew what Hannah was thinking. And Luke’s sister was way off base. There was no potential for romance here. No way. No how.

  To prove that, she summoned up her brisk corporate voice. “So, how did today’s interview go?”

  Luke arched an eyebrow at her business-like tone. “Very well. It’s supposed to air tonight on the six o’clock news.”

  “Did you mention the Twitter page?” Hannah turned her attention to Luke.

  “Yes. And the website Father Joe set up.”

  “Good. Because since you talked about it on the radio interview Wednesday, Carlos has attracted more than a hundred followers. The TV spot should raise the numbers a lot more. Hopefully some of them will also check out the official website and send a few bucks.”

  “We’ll take every one we can get. You ready to go?”

  “Not until the grand unveiling.” Hannah grinned at Luke and tapped her framed wall hanging, which lay face down on the work table.

  He smiled and folded his arms across his chest. “Okay. Lay it on me.”

  With a flourish, she lifted the piece and turned it around. “Ta-da!”

  Luke gave the modernistic rising-sun motif an appreciative scan. “I’m impressed. Didn’t you tell me once you couldn’t draw a straight line?”

  A soft flush suffused Hannah’s cheeks. “I had a lot of help with my design. Kelsey smoothed out the rough edges. And trust me, there were plenty. After that, it was just a matter of tracing the pattern, cutting out the pieces and stitching them up. Although I needed some help with the stitching part, too.”

  “You did great.” Kelsey moved beside Hannah and put an arm around her shoulders. “Best of all, you found out there’s more to the art of quilting than patchwork.”

  “For sure.” She slid the finished piece into a plastic bag and slung her purse over her shoulder. “Okay, I’m ready. Are you going to the beach tomorrow morning before you open the shop, Kelsey?”

  “Yes. For a little while.”

  Kelsey was tempted to ask Luke his plans, but held back. He’d be gone in four short weeks. It wasn’t wise to encourage social interaction. Besides, once he knew her story, he might lose whatever interest Hannah had picked up on a few minutes ago. Especially when he found out what she was considering doing with the baby.

  “Good. We’ll be there, too,” Hannah told her. “You are going tomorrow, aren’t you, Luke?”

  “Yes. It doesn’t make sense to stay in a beach house if you never go to the beach.”

  Maybe she wouldn’t go, after all.

  As if reading her mind, Luke pinned her with an intent look. “Why don’t I carry your things down for you? About nine?”

  No way would she commit to that. She might change her mind at the last minute. “I can manage. I’ll only have my chair tomorrow.”

  Tucking her arm in her brother’s, Hannah tugged him toward the door. “Let’s go, Luke. Kelsey needs to leave. ’Night, Kelsey. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

  With that, she looked back, grinned and winked.

  Oh, brother.

  Sinking back against the work table as the door jingled shut behind them, Kelsey shook her head. The last thing she needed was a teenage matchmaker whose head was filled with visions of romance. Yes, there were vibes between her and Luke. But she wasn’t ready to deal with feelings of attraction for anyone, let alone a man who would soon be exiting her life. Besides, she had other more pressing issues to deal with before she tackled romance.

&nbs
p; She stood, retrieved her purse from the desk and called out a good-bye to Dorothy, who was in the back baking for Saturday’s customers.

  It was definitely time to talk to Dr. Walters.

  Luke settled behind the wheel of the car, keeping one eye on Kelsey’s shop, in case she exited while they were still there. “Are you up for pizza again tonight?”

  As he fumbled the key in the lock, finally looking down to slide it in, a chuckle was Hannah’s only response.

  He turned the key and put the car in gear. “What kind of answer is that?”

  “It’s not an answer. It’s a reaction.” She buckled her seat belt and settled her wall hanging in her lap.

  “To what?”

  “You.”

  Luke frowned as he backed out. After giving Not Your Grandmother’s Quilts a final once-over, he headed down West Center toward Blue Star Highway. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I know. That’s what’s so funny.”

  “You want to clue me in?”

  “Sure. You think Kelsey’s hot.”

  He jerked his head toward her. “What?”

  “You heard me. Watch the road.” She gestured out the front window.

  He made a quick course correction to avoid taking out a curbside planter.

  “And on top of that, she thinks you’re hot. So what are you going to do about it?”

  Blindsided, he tightened his grip on the wheel and tried to regroup. “That came out of left field, didn’t it?”

  Although he did his best to hide his discomfiture under an amused tone, Hannah wasn’t buying.

  “Maybe. But I hit a home run.”

  “You’re nuts.”

  “And you’re avoiding the issue.”

  “There isn’t any issue.”

  She chuckled again. “And they say teenagers are immature.”

  Irritated, he pulled onto the highway and headed for the interstate that would take them back to Pier Cove. “This has nothing to do with maturity. Yes, Kelsey is an attractive woman. But for your information, she and I got off to a very rocky start. She was not happy to discover she had to share her private beach with me. I doubt we’d even be talking if the youth center project hadn’t forced us to interact.”