by Lisa Carter
“Help you?” Evy frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“I outlined my plan to Mr. Keller on our last boat trip. He thought it was a great idea. I’m sure the Koles will agree. Something right up your alley.”
Evy had her doubts Honey Kole would agree with anything that involved her. “What plan?”
“I heard about the children’s story time you do at the library. I wonder if we could do the same thing this weekend with selected picture books to help the children open up about their feelings and process what has happened to them.”
Felicia gave a thumbs-up to a child calling her name who held up a drawing for the counselor to admire. “After summer camp was so successful, we decided to try this pilot program for local foster children. The same children will come back to the farm every weekend. Would you be willing to commit your Saturday evenings for the rest of the program?”
A slow ember of excitement grew within Evy. Read a book? Was Felicia kidding? That was something Evy could certainly do. “Each night before lights-out?”
Felicia smiled. “You’d take lead on reading the story in the girls’ cabin. And maybe we could talk Deputy Pruitt into leading story time in the boys’ cabin since he’s such a reader.”
Evy laughed.
Felicia gave her a quizzical smile. “You don’t think it’s a good idea?”
“I think it’s a wonderful idea.” Evy caught sight of Charlie headed toward them. “Charlie is a great reader. I’m sure he’ll love it.”
“Good. I have a list of recommended books. Do you know if the library carries these?” Felicia unfolded the paper she removed from her shirt pocket. “Sorry for the squiggly lines. As you know, the boat doesn’t stay still while you try to write.”
Evy scanned the items. “Our collection contains four of the six. I’ll check them out this afternoon.”
Felicia clapped her hands. “Thank you so much. Will you explain the plan to Deputy Pruitt? You don’t think he’ll mind?”
Evy tucked the paper inside her back pocket. “I’m sure he won’t mind. He’ll love adding another book to his to-be-read pile.”
Chapter Five
Later that evening, Charlie gaped at Evy. “You want me to do what?”
“I guess I should’ve checked with you first. I forgot about you having to go back to work.”
He fidgeted. “I don’t have another tour until Labor Day, actually.”
“I thought this would be something for me to do to help these children. To make a difference in a small way.” She fiddled with the bread stick. “I’m sorry.”
“Quit saying that.” He sighed. “And I’m sorry. I didn’t think about you not liking Italian.”
“I like Italian. See?” She bit off a chunk of the bread and chewed. “You’re a great cook. I’m just excited.”
Charlie could tell she was excited. After craft time, he and Evy left Keller’s to retrieve the library books. And grab a bite to eat.
He’d had about all the camp food he could stomach for one day. He liked little kids a bunch. He liked grown-up time with Evy Shaw even more.
So he’d gone out on a limb and invited Evy over to his house for lasagna. He liked seeing her here. She looked good in his kitchen. At his table.
“I may not be able to swing it every weekend. Depends on the schedule.”
“Of course. Maybe someone else could take your place on the nights you’re not able to come.”
Which sent a shaft into his heart. “That’s me.” He tried to play it off. “Easily replaced.”
She placed her hands on either side of her plate. “That’s not what I meant. You’re not easily replaced. Not to me.”
Evy fingered the gold-rimmed edge of the dinner plate. His grandmother’s Sunday china. Yeah, he’d gone all out.
“Is that how you feel?” Evy frowned. “Is that what you think happened between you and Honey?”
He jerked. “How do you—what have you heard?”
“Nothing, but I can see how you look at her when you think no one is looking. Honey’s the one who hurt you, isn’t she, Charlie?”
He scraped back his chair. “Who’s been talking behind my back?”
“Just my initial impression watching the tension between you two today.” She caught his arm as he reached for her plate. “I’m a good listener if you want to talk about it. Friends, remember?”
Friends? He wrenched free of her hold on his arm and lifted the plate. She knotted her fingers into her lap.
“Trust me, whatever happened or didn’t happen with Honey is in the past. Where it belongs.”
She shook her head. “Sometimes the past refuses to stay buried. But it can’t remain there if that’s what it takes for us to move forward.”
He moved toward the kitchen. “To something better? Speak for yourself. You’re not exactly the poster child for spilling your guts about your own past.”
She pushed back her chair and followed him. “What did your intuition tell you about me, Deputy Pruitt? Am I to be trusted or not?”
He set the plates down. “My gut tells me you are a nice lady who loves children and books.”
“I’m a librarian. So much for your superior detecting skills.” She tilted her head. “Was that all you got from your first impression?”
“First impressions, as in P and P, evolve. Like trust. Time will tell.”
She propped, chin in hand, on the counter. “P and P? Sounds like a sandwich. Or a grocery store. But I’m glad to know that literature is having such a profound impact on your life. Can I ask you a personal question?”
He blinked at the sudden change in topic. Why did he sense land mines ahead? He blew out a breath. “Sure. Go ahead.”
“Is Honey the reason why you don’t like Sawyer Kole?”
What Charlie didn’t like was how those big blue eyes of Evy’s followed Kole’s every move. Charlie knew he was being ridiculous. And pathetic.
But with those megawatt eyes turned on him right now, he had a hard time concentrating, much less remembering why exactly he didn’t like Kole. Oh, yeah. Honey.
The love of his life? He was beginning to wonder. Maybe not so much.
“Who’s the real Charlie Pruitt?” He shrugged. “Raised in a house full of boys. One sister. And yes, I live in the same house I grew up in. No mystery here. I’m an open book.”
Unlike Evy Shaw.
He lifted his shoulders and let them drop. “What you see is what you get. How about you?”
* * *
He’d avoided her real question. Not so much an open book. But Evy had no right to expect total disclosure if she was unwilling to offer it herself.
She glanced around the cozy interior of the two-story Victorian. The kitchen had been modernized, but the rest of the house reflected its nineteenth-century charm. “This feels like a real home.”
After rinsing off the plates, Charlie turned off the faucet. “It was my grandmother’s house. My dad grew up here. Now I live here.”
He looked at Evy. And waited. Waited for her to share.
She took a breath. “My parents were into sleek, avant-garde modern decor. Lots of bookshelves, though.”
He smirked. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
She wandered over to the bay window in the living room and moved aside the curtain. From there, she could see beyond the corner to the gazebo on the square and the outline of the library. Maples and oaks canopied the street. “The trees will be beautiful in a few weeks.”
He came alongside her. “Red and yellow. And the oak in the backyard is the most vivid orange I’ve ever seen in my life. You’ve got to see it to believe it.”
If she’d had any sense at all, she would have left Kiptohanock. Mission accomplished, nothing but potential heartache a
waited if she remained. She’d found her brother.
But instead of closure, Evy had discovered only more unanswered questions. Mainly about herself. And a certain deputy sheriff. Not what she’d come to Kiptohanock looking for. Yet here she was.
She contemplated the front room with its comfortable chintz sofas and well-cared-for antiques scattered among more practical pieces of modern living. Like the flat-screen mounted above the mantel over the wood-burning fireplace. A lived-in home. “It’s not like the museum I grew up in.” She smiled. “I’d love a tour if we have time before we head back to Mr. Keller’s.”
“If not, I can always put the siren on.”
“Really?” Her eyes widened. “You can do that? That would be fun.”
“I was kidding. That would be against regulations unless we were on official business.”
“Oh.” She pushed the bridge of her glasses farther up her nose.
He looked at her funny. She dropped her hand. It was a nervous habit to touch her glasses for reassurance.
“But once we get out of town, then we can let it rip.”
“Fabulous...”
Charlie smiled. “If that’s all it takes to please you, Evy Shaw, then you’re one in a million.”
He steered her into the foyer with its beautiful oak door and glass-paned sidelights. Up the ornately carved staircase to the landing’s oval stained-glass window.
“I love it. So old-fashioned.”
He loped down the stairs two steps at a time and waited for her at the bottom. “One more room. A special surprise I saved for last.”
Coming down more slowly, Evy had a sudden flash of a long white dress trailing on the carpet runner behind her. And of herself pausing by the Tiffany-inspired window on the landing. Gazing below to where Charlie stood now, one hand propped on the newel post, waiting with her friends and family—
Snap out of it, Evy.
Evy tamped down the silly, romantic illusions. She was a librarian, not a Jane Austen heroine. Best to keep her feet and her dreams planted firmly on the ground.
After all, she’d met Charlie only because he was trying to impress a girl. She sighed. Story of her life.
Surrounded by her beloved books at the library was akin to being enveloped in the warm embrace of friends. A home away from home.
Between the pages of books, she’d found beloved childhood companions. Like Anne and Gilbert. Tom and Huckleberry Finn. And later, during her socially awkward teen years, she’d discovered Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth, Emma and Mr. Knightley.
Who was she kidding? She was still socially awkward. It hadn’t taken Evy long to understand real life wasn’t like books. Or real love, either. She never knew what to say to boys, nor they to her. Romance wasn’t something she envisioned in her future.
It was far safer to cling to her beautiful world of books. Safe until the moment she set foot in coastal Kiptohanock.
When she reached the bottom of the staircase, he crossed the hall to a door opposite the front parlor. “You’re going to love this room.”
Opening the door with a flourish, he ushered her inside. With a flick of the light switch, the room blazed to life.
She took two steps inside the pine-paneled room, stopped and did a slow three-sixty. “A library? You have a library? In your house?”
Her mouth fell open at the sight of a window nook overlooking the front street.
“Dad called it the study.”
Charlie leaned against the doorjamb, feet crossed at the ankle. Pleased with himself. “I thought you’d get a kick out of the window seat. My sister’s favorite place to curl up with a book when she was little. You’d like Anna.”
“It’s...it’s...” Evy clasped her hands under her chin. “Wonderful.”
He laughed. “Book heaven, huh?”
Unable to help herself, she plopped onto the plump cushions of the window seat and drew her legs up under her. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves bracketed the wall. Masculine leather sofas dotted the room.
“My grandmother was a big reader. Dad, too. Though he’s more of a Zane Grey/Louis L’Amour kind of guy. It’s not for lack of trying on my mom’s part that I’m a nonreader. She read to us every night when we were little.”
Evy closed her eyes. Perfection. She could just imagine cuddling here with a small child while reading a storybook. Her eyes flew open. She gestured toward Charlie’s copy of Sense and Sensibility lying on the coffee table between the sofa and armchairs. “What do you mean you’re a nonreader?”
“I’m a work in progress.”
She swung her legs to the floor. “Is it working? Impressing that girl?”
His brow puckered. “Who?” The line in his forehead eased. “Oh. Her.” He looked away. “That’s a work in progress, too.”
She grabbed one of the pillows and held it against her stomach. “Have I run across this lucky lady yet?” Evy fretted the corded fringe on the pillow. “Never mind.” She fluttered her hand. “None of my business.”
He wouldn’t meet her eyes. Glancing everywhere but at Evy. “Sort of.”
Who was it? Not that it mattered if he was hung up on some other girl. He seemed the type who was as solid and steadfast as the earth.
She tucked her tongue inside her cheek. Impressions could be deceiving. What did she really know about Charlie? What did she really know about anyone other than the person they chose to present to the world?
“What made you go into law enforcement, Charlie?”
Perching on the armrest of the sofa, he snapped his gaze to hers. “My dad retired from the Accomack County Sheriff’s Department. Hokey, but I always wanted to be just like him. He taught us to care about our community. To believe in truth and justice. To want to protect those who can’t protect themselves.”
Evy’s instincts told her to trust Charlie. He was funny and sweet and—but don’t forget—bitter about Honey.
His reputation as a Pruitt and as a member of the law-enforcement community were very important to Charlie. They were his entire identity.
Were Evy’s initial instincts wrong about him? Was he using her only as a means to an end? Was she being stupid and naive?
Perhaps this wasn’t the right time to leave Kiptohanock. Maybe her mission wasn’t as complete as she’d believed. Not with Sawyer’s happiness at stake.
Her heartbeat quickened. Or was that merely an excuse to justify staying in town with Charlie a little while longer?
Chapter Six
That night, story time at Keller’s Kids Camp went surprisingly well. In the boys’ cabin, Charlie read a copy of the same story Evy read to the girls. A touching story about how it was okay to miss someone and what to do while waiting to be reunited.
Afterward she was strangely quiet. Quiet even for a librarian. Ill at ease.
Despite her prim-and-proper demeanor, Evy had always been so talkative with him. And the change from their friendly banter to awkward silence bothered Charlie. More than he liked to admit.
Had he somehow hurt her feelings? Done something to offend her? He’d lain awake half the night, reconstructing every conversation.
She’d seemed to enjoy dinner. But sometime after their heart-to-heart, she left him. Emotionally, if not physically.
Maybe telling him about her family put her on edge. It hurt him to think of her alone except for the attention of a paid housekeeper. Anxious, afraid. Or was he projecting his own insecurities on her? Because after what happened with Honey, he understood about feeling insecure.
The next day, as the organ pounded out the opening hymn, he watched her enter the church. And aim for being unobtrusive as she slipped into one of the back pews. As if she earned the right to belong only by making herself as invisible as possible. As if she, being herself, was somehow less than.
Snagging a bulletin, he pondered if that was how she’d survived and endured what sounded to him like a lonely childhood. Totally different from his carefree Eastern Shore experience.
Charlie wove his way through the stragglers trying to find a seat as the service began in earnest. Nobody, especially someone as wonderful as Evy, got ignored. Not on his watch.
He slid into the pew next to her. Her eyes, as soft and brilliant as a blue jay’s wings, glanced at him. And once again, he felt his stomach drop, weightless, as if he’d risen too fast in an elevator.
“This seat taken?”
She shook her head. But by the slight lift in her lips, he knew she was glad to see him. And pleasing her pleased him.
At the final hymn, her eyes became luminous. Something about a balm in Gilead that soothed wounded souls. The last chords of the postlude echoed in the rafters in the century-old church. People exited the pews to greet friends and neighbors. She remained motionless, a serene expression on her face.
“I never knew it could be like this.” Her eyes fixed on the stained-glass depiction of Jesus on the baptistry wall. “Peaceful. Hopeful. Joyful.”
“Your family aren’t churchgoers?”
A small, timid smile. “Christmas. Easter. A concert or two. But not every church is like this.” She gazed at the milling crowd. “From time to time, I’ve sensed what you have here in other places.” Evy steepled her hands in her lap. “During evensong at a cathedral in the south of France. In a quiet, country church down a hedgerow lane in the middle of Somerset, England.” She looked at him. “You’re blessed to have grown up here in this place with these people.”
He’d never looked at it that way before. But he supposed, deep in his heart, he knew that already. Maybe that was why, unlike his siblings who’d left the Eastern Shore, he’d been content to remain. Even when, after the public humiliation over Honey, it would’ve been easier to go off-Shore.
Evy smoothed her hand over her dress. “I learn something new every time I come inside these walls.”
Charlie learned something new about Evy Shaw every time he was with her. And it was shaping up to be quite a journey of discovery.
