Picket Fence Pursuit

by Jennifer Johnson

  “Hey, Ki.” Ryan walked toward her, his arms weighed down with wooden poles.

  “What are these?” Kylie took a couple from his hands.

  “They’re Christmas poles to put in your front yard.” He grabbed one. “This one’s for you.”

  Kylie looked at the pole painted white. At the top was a piece of red-painted wood that stuck out like a street sign, reading KYLIE’S KOTTAGE. A smiling cardinal sat perched on top, wearing a Santa’s hat.

  “This is adorable.”

  “Thanks. Gramps and I love to make them.”

  “How much are you selling them for?”

  Ryan scratched his jaw. “I haven’t thought about it.”

  “Haven’t thought about it?” Kylie furrowed her eyebrows. “Aren’t you worried at all about raising enough money for the trip?”

  “Not really. You see, I need to talk to you—”

  “We open the doors in five minutes.” Candy scanned the room. “Is everyone ready?”

  “Sure are!” a man yelled.

  Kylie poked Ryan’s arm. “You were saying?”

  Ryan furrowed his eyebrows, looked at his poles, and mumbled, “It’s never the right time.”

  “Right time for what?”

  “Oh, nothing. I don’t worry about the money. God’s already provided.” Ryan stared into Kylie’s eyes as if he were trying to tell her something.

  Kylie squelched the urge to rationalize and crunch numbers in her head. She knew God used practical means. She’d also learned He cared more about the heart than the way the money was provided. Her heart had no doubt. For this missions trip, God wanted her to trust Him. She smiled. “You’re right.”

  Kylie placed her signs displaying the cost in front of the different-sized bows. She counted her change drawer one last time.

  Customers filtered into the building. A woman with two daughters walked to her table. “These are pretty, Mom.” The younger, dark-haired girl touched one of the nicer, silk ribbon bows.

  “They are adorable.” She picked up several. “I’ll take all of these.”

  Kylie quoted her price, placed the hair bows in a bag, then took the money. “Thank you so much.”

  The woman moved toward Ryan’s side of the table. “This is so cute.” She picked up a pole similar to Kylie’s except it had four cardinals on top of the sign.

  “Look.” The older, red-haired girl pointed to the birds. “It’s a daddy, a mommy, and two kids. It’s just like us.”

  “Yes, I believe you’re right.” Ryan picked up the pole. “How ’bout if I do this?”

  Kylie watched as Ryan picked up a paintbrush, dipped it in green, then painted a bow on the mother cardinal and the two smaller birds.

  “Now, they’re girl kids.” Ryan laid down the smaller brush and picked up a bigger one. “What’s your last name?”

  “Sims,” the girls answered in unison.

  Ryan painted the name on the sign and handed it to the mother. “Be careful. It won’t be dry for a while.”

  “How much does it cost?” The woman reached into her purse.

  “Not a thing.” He winked at the girls. “Have fun.”

  Within moments, several people flooded their table, having heard the tall redhead was giving away free decorative poles. Ryan directed them to Kylie’s side of the table as he personalized signs for different customers. Two hours before the bazaar ended, Kylie had sold every bow, and Ryan had given away all his signs.

  “That was a productive day.” Ryan closed his paints and wrapped his brushes.

  “For me.” Kylie shut and locked her money box. “Did you make anything?”

  Ryan shrugged.

  “Well?”

  “No, but you sold all your bows.”

  Kylie studied Ryan. Not an ounce of concern for raising enough money etched his face. She now had enough to cover a little more than half the trip’s expenses, but as far as she could tell, Ryan hadn’t raised a penny.

  He leaned closer. “If it makes you feel any better, Gramps and I always make those to give away. We love it.”

  A smile tugged at her lips. “God always provides for you.”

  “Every time.” Ryan drew closer still until a wisp of his hair caressed her cheek. Her heart sped as goose bumps covered her skin. “Let’s grab a burger.”

  She swallowed, unable to speak. If she tilted her head just slightly she’d be able to kiss him. The idea sent a wave of excitement through her veins. Instead, she nodded.

  “Come on.” He stood and grabbed her hand. “We’re heading out, Candy.”

  She looked up from her table. “Out of stuff to sell?”

  “Yep.”

  “Okay. See you later.”

  Kylie slipped into Ryan’s car. The urge to kiss him still made her knees weak. She noted the stubble on his jaw and wondered at its roughness. His lips, probably soft, would contrast. . . . She shook her head. What am I thinking?

  “You want a burger or a sit-down meal?”

  “Oh, no.” Kylie looked at her watch. “It’s Saturday.”

  “Last time I checked.”

  “With the bazaar and all, I completely forgot. I’m supposed to try on my gown for Robin’s wedding in an hour.”

  “Not a problem. We’ll grab a burger and head over there.”

  “Thanks, Ryan.”

  ❧

  Ryan tried to make himself comfortable in the boutique’s stiff chair. The thing was small enough, he felt sure his over- six-foot, two-hundred-plus-pound frame would break it in pieces.

  “Honey,” the gray-haired woman with a tape measure draped around her neck called into the fitting room. “I’ll be right back. I’ve got another customer who’s ready for me to set up her alterations.”

  Ryan scanned the room. Dresses of every color and style hung from the walls. Several mannequins sported different ones, as well. Headpieces and shoes and other sparkly things sat in nearly every crevice of the shop. The place was completely overwhelming. He couldn’t imagine anyone finding what they wanted.

  “Where did the seamstress go?”

  At the sound of Kylie’s voice, Ryan turned toward her and sucked in his breath. The dark red dress, bare of straps, exposed her small neck and the curves of her collarbone. The material flowed down her frame, hugging her perfect shape. It looked soft, and he yearned to touch it. “Wow.”

  When her cheeks and neck flushed, Ryan knew his mouth gaped open. She was beautiful! Standing, he couldn’t stop himself from walking to her. “I thought all eyes were supposed to be on the bride on her wedding day.”

  The crimson color on her skin deepened as she looked down.

  Ryan cupped her chin in his hands. “I know I won’t be able to take my eyes off you.”

  Not able to tear away from her eyes, he watched as her gaze traveled from his jaw to his mouth, up to his eyes, then back to his mouth. She lifted her lips, ever so slightly, and Ryan could take it no more. He lowered his mouth and claimed his first kiss. Her lips, soft and sweet, welcomed his.

  Pulling away, Ryan swallowed the desire raging within him. He touched her cheek. “Oh, Ki, you are so beautiful.”

  “Okay, let’s have a look at the dress,” the seamstress’s voice sounded from across the room. Ryan stepped away as the woman scurried toward them. “Oh, honey.” The woman placed her hands on her hips. “That dress fits you like a glove. You’re gorgeous.”

  “I’d say.” Ryan sat back into the chair. All the stuff in the shop faded. Everything except Kylie.

  Seventeen

  Kylie crept into her mother’s kitchen. Mama, testing the turkey, was bent over with her head practically stuck inside the oven. Her oldest sister, Sabrina, peeled potatoes, her back facing the door. Amanda sat at the table, chopping celery. Kylie wrapped her arms around her younger sister. “Amanda, you are absolutely glowing.”

  The blond dropped her knife and gasped. “Kylie Andrews, you scared the life out of me.” She stood, and Kylie’s jaw dropped. Amanda punched her arm.
“Hey, I am carrying twins.”

  “But you’re huge!”

  Amanda clamped her lips together and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Mama!”

  “Kylie.” Her mother hustled over to her. “Women in the family way don’t like to be addressed like that.” She grinned. “Come here, and give your old mama a hug and a kiss.”

  “Yeah.” Amanda stuck her tongue out, then smiled. “Wait ’til you see Natalie.”

  Natalie waddled into the kitchen, holding a casserole dish of banana pudding. She brushed a dark wisp of hair away from her cheek. “What about Natalie?”

  Kylie reached out both hands and touched each sister’s belly. “I don’t know who’s bigger.”

  “Har, har, spinster sister. Your day will come—eventually.” Natalie smirked.

  “Good one.” Amanda gave her a high five.

  “Mama, Amanda called me a spinster,” Kylie squealed.

  “Girls, you’re acting like toddlers.” Mama grabbed a dishrag and wiped her hands. “We’ve got work to do. Sabrina, Amanda, go back to your potatoes and celery. Kylie, you chop up some onion. Natalie, I want you to whip up those brownies.”

  Kylie grabbed a knife and a cutting board from the drawer. Grabbing an onion from the sink, she peeled off the outer layer and rinsed it. “Why did I get stuck with the onion?”

  “Because Natalie and I will throw up,” Amanda answered.

  “Did you see Mama’s new coat?” Sabrina asked, as she scraped potato shavings into the trash can. “It’s the nicest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “Your daddy got one, too.” Mama scurried out of the kitchen like a child on Christmas morning. When she returned, she carried in one hand a long, chocolate-colored London Fog trench coat with a thick, plush lining. A full-length, lined, navy coat with a multicolored matching scarf hung from the hanger in her other hand.

  “They are beautiful.” Kylie fingered the soft material. “Where’d you get them?”

  “We don’t know. The pastor said someone bought them for us. He couldn’t say who.”

  Bile rose in Kylie’s throat. Charity. She hated when people felt sorry for them. If she’d been able to have that job at Miller Enterprises, her parents would have never wanted for anything again.

  “I better put these away before we get food on them.” Mama walked out of the kitchen.

  “We hoped you’d have a guest with you this year,” said Natalie.

  “Yeah, all this talk about some man. What was his name?” asked Sabrina.

  “Ryan,” said Mama as she walked back into the kitchen.

  Talking about Ryan lifted her spirits some. “I thought about inviting him.” Goose bumps covered Kylie’s arms when she thought of the last time she’d seen Ryan. At the boutique. She’d never felt so scared and alive all at the same time. Her reaction to his kiss had surprised her.

  “Why didn’t you?” asked Mama.

  “I don’t know.” Kylie walked to the sink for another onion. “Mama, there’s no more in the sink.”

  “There’s some in the drawer of the fridge.”

  Kylie opened the refrigerator. “Uh-oh, Mama. Someone’s been in your deviled eggs.”

  Mama jumped up and hustled to Kylie. “That daddy of yours. He can’t ever wait until suppertime. Richard!”

  Dalton ran into the kitchen, his face white as an eggshell. “Mama, come quick!”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s Daddy.”

  Kylie followed her mother and sisters to the living room. Her daddy sat in his brown chair, gasping for breath. He held his left arm. “Lorma, something doesn’t feel right.”

  “Oh, sweet Jesus, help my Richard. Where are you hurting?”

  “My chest. My arm.”

  “I’ll get an aspirin.” Sabrina ran into the kitchen while Kylie grabbed the phone and dialed 9-1-1. Mama coaxed the medicine down Daddy’s throat. She held his hands and prayed over him.

  Please, God. Please don’t take Daddy yet. An eternity seemed to pass while they waited for the ambulance. Finally, it arrived and Kylie watched as the paramedics loaded him into the back. Mama jumped in beside Daddy.

  Loading into two vans and a car, Kylie, her sisters and brothers, and their families followed behind. The hospital came into view, and Kylie watched as the ambulance pulled into the emergency-room entrance. Her father was unloaded from the back and rushed inside.

  Dalton parked his car, and everyone filtered out. Kylie couldn’t move. “Go on.” Kylie motioned when Dalton extended his hand to her. “I’ll come in a second.”

  She watched as her family disappeared into the hospital. Fear mounted inside her. Tears welled in her eyes. Not on Thanksgiving, Lord. Please, don’t take Daddy yet. We still need him. She pulled her cell phone from her front jeans pocket and dialed Ryan’s number.

  “Hello.”

  “Ryan.” Kylie’s voice caught in her throat.

  “Ki, what’s wrong?”

  “I—I need you.”

  “Where are you?”

  “At the hospital in Petersburg. My daddy’s having a heart attack.”

  ❧

  Breathless, Ryan ran into the hospital’s emergency-room waiting area and spied Kylie. He rushed to her and wrapped his arms around her. “I got here as quick as I could.”

  She nestled her face into his embrace and tightened her arms around him. “I know. I need you here so much.”

  His heart melted. He’d scale a mountain, swim an ocean, fight a lion—anything he needed to do to take care of Kylie. “Have you heard anything yet?”

  She pulled away but grabbed his hand. “Not yet.”

  A large, young man approached and offered his hand. “I’m Dalton. You must be Ryan.”

  “It’s nice to meet you. I wish that it were under different circumstances.”

  Dalton tried to grin, but his eyes remained weighted and dull. “We’re going to keep praying.”

  Kylie peered up at Ryan. “I won’t introduce you now. I’ll just point out my brothers and sisters. The boy and the girl at the pop machine are Chloe and Cameron. The pregnant lady on the phone is Natalie. The one on her cell phone is Sabrina. Amanda is the other pregnant one. You just met Dalton. Gideon’s the tall, thin one leaning against the wall. The boys are my nephews and the other men are my brothers-in-law—oh, I’ll introduce you later.”

  The doors leading to the back burst open. Mrs. Andrews walked out and clasped her hands. “He’s going to be okay.”

  Ryan rushed over with Kylie and her family as they surrounded her mother. “What’s wrong with him, Mama?” one of the siblings asked.

  Mrs. Andrews cupped her nearest child’s jaw with both hands. “Indigestion.” She released her youngest son and wrapped her arms around Amanda. “Your silly, silly daddy ate half a dozen deviled eggs and gave himself a bad case of indigestion.”

  “Thank You, Lord,” whispered Kylie. Ryan squeezed her hand.

  “Ryan!” Lorma grabbed him in a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Kylie frowned. “You know Ryan?”

  “Yes, we met at God’s Pantry. He and his grandfather volunteer there.”

  Ryan felt Kylie’s grip loosen. Don’t pull away, Ki. He tried to squeeze her hand, but she pulled away.

  “Why were you at God’s Pantry, Mama?”

  “We went a few times before your daddy’s disability checks started.” She looked around at her family. “Who wants to see Daddy first?” Before anyone could respond, Mama grabbed Chloe and Cameron and guided them back through the door.

  “You help at God’s Pantry, too?”

  “Gramps has for years. I’ve just been helping him the last few times.”

  “My family paid you a couple visits, and you didn’t tell me?”

  How could he tell her his mother asked him not to? She hadn’t wanted Kylie to worry. He should have never agreed to keep it from Kylie, but he didn’t want her to be upset, either. Her self-imposed embarrassment about the times her family lacked fin
ancially was ridiculous. He wanted her to get past the money—with him, with her family. He thought she had.

  “Someone bought my poverty-stricken parents brand-new coats. Did you know that?”

  Ryan swallowed. She couldn’t possibly know he bought those coats. He’d sent them through the family’s pastor. The man himself didn’t even know Ryan’s name.

  “Is there anything else I can share with you? Any charity you’d like to give?”

  “What is the matter with you?” Ryan tried to grab her hand. “An hour ago you needed me because you thought your dad was in serious condition; now you’re mad because I saw your parents at God’s Pantry? I don’t care about your family’s lack of wealth. I care about you.” He touched her cheek. “I love you, Ki.”

  Contentment glazed her eyes. For a moment. She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Ryan.” She moved her face away from his hand. “I shouldn’t have called.”

  Eighteen

  Kylie hugged her father longer than usual. Willing herself never to forget it, she inhaled his scent, a musky, sweet mixture of aftershave and butterscotch. “Daddy, I—”

  “I’m okay, honey.” He squeezed her then held her at arm’s length. “Just one more month and this family has its first college graduate. I’m proud of you.”

  She tore her gaze from his. The sincere pride in his eyes made her want to cry—again. “Daddy, I’m going to help. . . .”

  He lifted her chin with his thumb. “Now you listen to me. The best help you can give me and your mama is to follow the Lord. He will lead you in the right way.”

  “I will. God will give me a job where I can make sure you get your medicine and—”

  “Kylie.” Her father clasped her hands in his. “God has always provided for your mama and me. Always. It’s not your job to provide. You, honey, you have to follow God’s plan for your life.”

  “Okay, Daddy.” She kissed his cheek and walked to her car. After starting the ignition, she pulled onto the country road leading to the interstate.

  It’s not okay. God, I want to trust You, but seeing Daddy taken by stretcher into the hospital. . . She shuddered. There was nothing I could do to help him. Nothing.

  Glancing to her right, Kylie saw the old abandoned church she and her family used to attend. The congregation had long ago outgrown it and built a new one. She drove into the lot and shut off the engine. Envisioning her sisters, baby dolls in tow, standing beneath the large oak tree, she could also see her brother Dalton trying to coerce Gideon into eating a bug.