by Marta Perry
“This has turned out exactly as I said it would,” Davis said, “and you have no one to blame but yourselves for the results. Let riffraff into the Lord’s house, and this is what you get. Maybe now you’ll realize that it’s time for this ridiculous project to end.”
Chapter Eleven
Landon eyed the newcomer cautiously. Whoever he might be, he seemed to think he was important, in his own eyes, at least. The man had white hair and was immaculately dressed. He wielded that silver-headed cane like a weapon instead of an aid to walking.
“Davis.” Pastor Jeb sounded resigned. “What brings you here?”
“I heard about the vandalism to my church, of course.” His use of the pronoun seemed to indicate that the church belonged to him.
Violet had stiffened, as if preparing for an attack. Annoyance surged through Landon. Violet was already struggling enough. She didn’t need more pressure. He took a step closer, wanting to help but not knowing how.
The movement seemed to draw the attention of the older man. He shifted his glare from the pastor to Landon. “Who’s this?” he demanded.
“Landon Derringer, Davis Stuart,” Pastor Jeb said briefly. “Landon has been helping us out with Teen Scene.”
Stuart sniffed, seeming to think the introduction unworthy of comment. Landon walked to the man and held out his hand, determined not to let Stuart’s rudeness affect his actions.
“Mr. Stuart. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Actually, it didn’t seem to be much of a pleasure, but courtesy helped oil the wheels of most human action, he’d found.
Looking thrown off his stride, Stuart shook hands briefly. Then he clasped his hands on the knob of his cane.
“Well, Pastor?” His tone sharpened. “How do you expect to pay for this mess? Or is Ms. Colby going to do it, since the whole misguided project was her idea?”
Landon could almost feel Violet wince. The Colby family seemed to do well enough, but he suspected that, like most ranchers, their finances were tied up in land and stock and equipment.
“It’s a church project,” he pointed out. “Surely the insurance will cover any loss.”
Pastor Jeb looked stricken. “I wish that were so. But the insurance is really meant to cover us in the face of major destruction, like a fire. The deductible is so high that we can’t count on it for something of this sort.”
Of course. Like a lot of cash-strapped organizations, they’d taken every cost-cutting measure they could find, most likely.
“I don’t know what your interest is, young man.” Stuart’s bristling white eyebrows lowered. “But the insurance won’t cover the damage, and believe me, I intend to make sure that the church council doesn’t sink any more of our funds into this misbegotten project. Throwing good money after bad, that’s what it would be.”
Landon was momentarily distracted by the old cliché, since Stuart said it with such determination.
“But we have to make repairs,” Violet protested. “The kids will expect us to be open on Friday night.”
Stuart reddened angrily. “Kids! Hooligans, more likely. They’ve done this, you can be sure of that.”
“Now, Davis.” The sheriff looked like a man who had dealt with Davis Stuart before. “You can’t jump to conclusions like that without proof. This is a police matter. We’ll find the guilty parties. That’s our job.”
“You won’t need to look any farther than those young hoodlums who were here on Saturday night,” he said, undeterred by the sheriff’s wisdom. “There will be no more money spent on them by this church, I tell you. If Ms. Colby’s so eager to entertain them, let her find another place.”
“Teen Scene is a ministry of Grasslands Community Church.” Pastor Jeb surprised Landon by the firmness in his tone. Apparently he was willing to go up against the local power broker for what he believed in. “We have no intention of deserting the program. Even if the guilty parties were in the building because of the teen program, and we don’t know that, it wouldn’t justify denying the program to all the other kids.”
“Fine.” Stuart’s voice grated, and he thudded the cane on the floor for emphasis. “Just remember that I control the majority of the board. See how far you get without funds.”
Violet was looking at Pastor Jeb, her eyes filled with gratitude, and the expression tugged at Landon’s emotions. Maybe this program would be better run by a team of professionals, but it was pretty obvious Grasslands couldn’t afford that. And Violet had sunk her heart into it. It wasn’t fair to desert her when things went wrong.
Landon cleared his throat. “As it happens, I’m associated with a charitable foundation in Fort Worth,” he said. “We provide grants for worthy projects that minister to teens. I feel sure we’d be willing to fund the necessary repairs to get the Teen Scene up and running again.”
Davis Stuart was looking at him with ill-concealed hostility. Clearly he was used to running things in this church, if not the whole town.
“What’s the name of this foundation?” he snapped. “Its board might not be so eager to help if I had a word with them.”
“The Jessica Derringer Foundation,” Landon said evenly. “Coincidentally, I am the board. I can assure you, the money will be here. Repairs can start immediately.”
Stuart glared at him for another moment. Then, apparently conceding defeat, he turned and stomped toward the door, where he paused for one final remark. “I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, young man,” he growled. He went out and let the metal door bang behind him.
“Well.” Pastor Jeb said the word on a long exhale. “Davis was certainly in top form today.” He turned to Landon, holding out his hand. “I’m not sure that we’ve done anything to merit your support, Landon, but we’re mighty glad to have it. I can’t thank you enough for your generous offer.”
“Forget it,” he said quickly. He turned to Sheriff Cole. “Sheriff, how long until your investigation is finished and we can start work in here?”
The sheriff considered, patting his paunch absently. “Well, I reckon we can get done in here this afternoon. You can start first thing tomorrow, if you can get a crew in here that quick.”
“We will,” he said confidently. “Thank you.”
Pastor Jeb put his hand on Sheriff Cole’s shoulder. “Let’s have a look at the rest of the damage, shall we?” He steered him toward the games room. “Violet, are you coming?”
“In a minute,” she said, looking up at Landon with a question in her eyes. As soon as the other two were out of earshot, she asked it.
“Why?” she said simply. “I thought you didn’t approve of our program. That you felt it should be run by professionals, not well-meaning amateurs.”
“I realized something after I shot my mouth off that way,” he explained. “I realized that I trust your judgment. And I’m willing to put my money where my mouth is.”
Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “Thank you, Landon. Thank you.”
* * *
Over supper, Violet had been telling Maddie about the vandalism, capping it with the story of Landon’s charitable act.
“I couldn’t believe he would offer to pay for the repairs, after what he’d said about our amateur efforts.” Violet led the way into the den, where she and Maddie had formed the habit of sitting after supper. “It was so unexpected.”
“Landon can be unexpected,” Maddie said. She curled up in the corner of the sofa and pulled her laptop from the table onto her lap. “I suspect you had something to do with his change of heart.”
“He did say he trusted my judgment.” She gave Maddie a searching look. “You’re sure that you don’t mind—”
Maddie shook her head, smiling a little. “How many times do I have to say it? Landon was always like a big brother to me, and that’s all he’ll ever be.” She leaned across to tap her knee. “Trust me on this. Landon never looked at me the way he looks at you.”
Maddie turned to her computer, and they were silent for a few minutes as she che
cked her email. Violet leaned back in her corner of the sofa, thinking about Landon.
There had been little chance to talk to him alone after his offer. Once the sheriff had gone, they’d been closeted with Pastor Jeb and a few other members of the teen center board, assessing the damage, deciding what repairs were needed, talking to carpenters and plumbers, making plans.
She’d been impressed, seeing Landon in action that way. He’d taken full part in the planning, making it clear that he didn’t want them to stint on the repairs but to get them done both quickly and thoroughly. He’d even managed to get Grasslands’ only plumber to promise to make the bathroom repairs a priority. She wasn’t sure how he’d managed to do that, and she spared a moment of regret for whoever had expected the plumber tomorrow.
“Finally,” Maddie said suddenly. “I got an email from Carter.”
Carter, the younger brother. Well, half brother, it seemed now.
“Is he all right?” Carter seemed a rather shadowy figure to her.
“Fine, apparently.” Maddie was scanning the message. “He never talks about what he’s doing. Well, I suppose he can’t. The military doesn’t want their officers to be giving away anything on what might be an unsecured wireless connection.”
“What does he say? Did you tell him about…well, about us?”
Maddie shook her head. “It seems way too complicated to explain in an email. He’d have a million questions, and just be frustrated because he couldn’t ask them.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Violet said reluctantly. Somehow this would be a bit more real if Maddie’s dad and brothers knew about it.
“So I told him I had some big news to share, but it would wait until he could call me. I asked if he’d heard anything from Dad. He says not for over a month, so that’s no help.”
“You’ve emailed our dad again?”
“Again and again,” Maddie said. “And I’ve left messages on his cell phone. He has to be someplace where he doesn’t have access, that’s all I can figure.”
“Isn’t there some central organization that’s in charge of this mission trip of his?” It seemed so odd that he’d be completely out of touch.
But Maddie shook her head. “He used to work directly with an organized group, but as he got to know more people in some of the impoverished areas, he went off on his own.”
“So…he hasn’t been around much for you?” Violet asked the question cautiously, wanting to know but not wanting to sound critical.
Maddie closed the computer with a snap. “I guess it does sound funny. I mean, in comparison to how close you’ve always been to your mother.”
“Yes, I suppose it does.” Violet seemed to see Belle sitting where Maddie was, leaning forward, her face alight with love, eager to hear about her day. Here, not in the hospital bed in Amarillo.
Maddie’s forehead wrinkled. “You know, I guess when you’re a kid, you just accept the way things are. We always knew that Dad’s work was very important and that he had to be away.”
“You never questioned that?” It didn’t sound as if she’d missed a lot by not having Brian Wallace in her life.
Maddie considered. “Sometimes you hash over your relationship with your parents with your friends, especially when you’re in college. I always had the feeling that Dad was sort of protecting himself from getting too close.” She looked at Violet, her face serious. “I guess now I know why. Whatever happened between Mom and Dad, it had to be big, and I think it has affected Dad’s relationship with us ever since.”
“I wish I’d known him,” Violet said softly.
“You will.” Maddie grabbed her hand. “Just like I’ll know Mom. He’ll come back, and she’ll wake up. You’ll see.”
Violet nodded. She had to believe that, but there was a lump in her throat.
“I know what,” Maddie said. “Let’s write letters to them, telling how it felt to find each other. You can write to Dad, and I’ll write to Mom. Then, even if it’s a while before they can read them, they’ll know how we felt.”
“That’s a good idea.” Violet smiled, but she suspected Maddie would do the same thing she would. She’d leave out the part about feeling angry and betrayed over all they’d lost.
One day, they’d be able to sort this out with their parents, but she didn’t think it was going to be easy.
* * *
Violet and Maddie reached the church early the next morning. Violet had already consulted with both Ty and Ricardo, reassured by their ability and willingness to handle what needed to be done on the ranch.
But there had been an undercurrent to their conversations that she hadn’t been able to dismiss. People who depended upon the Colby Ranch for their livelihood were too aware of the uncertainty of life in the Colby family right now.
Jack should return. She knew that…everyone knew that except, apparently, Jack. Ricardo had looked at her with sorrow in his eyes, even though he hadn’t spoken of her brother. He was wondering why she hadn’t called Jack to insist that he come home.
She’d have to. She knew that, but still she delayed, praying that he’d come back on his own.
The area outside the door into the church gym was crowded with vehicles—two pickup trucks, the plumber’s paneled truck, a delivery truck from the lumberyard and another from the hardware store. Landon stood at the door in consultation with Pastor Jeb.
“Wow,” Maddie murmured. “Looks as if someone’s been working overtime.”
“I wonder what Landon did to get all these people here already this morning.” Violet felt faintly uneasy, as if she’d unleashed something she couldn’t control.
“Don’t ask,” Maddie said, getting out of the car. “Just appreciate.”
That was probably good advice. Now to follow it.
When they approached the door, Landon glanced at them, his face relaxing in a smile. “Have you come to supervise?”
“We’ve come to work,” Maddie declared. “We’re not going to sit back and let you have all the fun.”
“The carpenters and plumbers are just getting started.” There was a note of protest in his voice. “Maybe if you waited until later—”
“We’re going to see Mom later. We’ll start in the kitchen,” Violet said firmly. “The only damage there was the graffiti. We’ll get busy painting.” She’d taken the precaution of bringing paint, brushes and rollers, and she didn’t intend to be left out. This was her project, after all.
She was ready for a battle, knowing Landon’s protectiveness, but she didn’t get one. Maybe he knew better.
“Okay, sounds good,” he said. “Need any help carrying stuff in?”
“We’ll take care of it,” Maddie said. “You get back to supervising, or whatever it is you’re doing.”
Chuckling, Landon turned away to answer a question from the plumber, and they went inside to check out the kitchen and bring their equipment in.
The spray paint on the walls and cabinets might have sent Violet’s emotions spiraling downward again, but Maddie seemed determined not to let that happen. She kept up a steady stream of chatter while they scrubbed and wielded the brushes and rollers, forcing Violet to respond and keeping her from focusing on the destruction.
After only an hour, they had begun to see progress. The old kitchen, unused except for the teen center program, hadn’t been repainted in years, and it seemed to come to life under the impact of fresh, new color.
“You know, this paint is making a huge difference.” Maddie stood back, hands on her hips, surveying their progress. “I like the earth tones in here.”
Violet looked at her and couldn’t help grinning. “They’re pretty becoming on you, too.” Maddie had paint everywhere, including a streak down one cheek.
“Better watch out, or I’ll decorate you as well,” Maddie warned, flicking the brush at her.
“You two girls getting paint on the walls or just each other?” Harriet said from the kitchen doorway.
Violet stared. It wasn’t ju
st Harriet from the farm stand. Beyond her was a group of teenagers, peering around her to get a look at the kitchen.
“Sure is a mess.” Joey Thomas hopped up onto the kitchen pass-through to get a better view.
“Get off there,” Harriet chided. “You’re going to make sure it’s not a mess much longer. Maria and Janey, you set up a table in the gym with the lemonade and food we brought. Some of you boys find a table they can use. The rest of you, get in here and get busy. Painting, not messing around,” she warned.
The kids scattered promptly in obedience, leaving Violet with no response but to stare at Harriet.
“But…the store?” she questioned.
“Don’t you worry about a thing,” the older woman said, tying a bright bandanna over her wiry hair. “I left Julie in charge. She might only be eighteen, but she knows what she’s doing. I’ll pop back later to check on her, but everything’s fine. Now let’s get busy.”
Blinking unexpected tears out of her eyes, Violet murmured a silent prayer of thanks and turned back to the painting.
By the time she and Maddie had to start cleaning up to go to the hospital, with all those hands working, the kitchen was nearly done. Violet walked back through the gym, marveling at the people who were hard at work. Plenty of kids from Teen Scene, people from church, others she didn’t even know—all of them had pitched in to help.
Her throat tightened. Some of these people lived hand-to-mouth, she knew. They might not be able to help with money, but they were giving their labor and support, and that meant more.
She walked on into the social rooms in search of Landon, weaving her way through people intent on their work. She found him in one of the restrooms, in consultation with the plumber. He glanced up.
“Violet, glad you’re here. We’re planning to run a vanity all across this wall. Joe here says he can do either a white laminate cabinet or natural wood. Which would you rather have?”
