Love Inspired May 2015 #2

by Missy Tippens

  “When did he suggest you join the board?” he demanded.

  “Shortly before the meeting where the board decided that we needed a public hearing before we could vote on your project.”

  His chest tightened. “The timing. It has to be at least partly about me or about getting back at my family and me. Ken Norton has always disliked us. I suspect it’s something between him and Dad.” He ran his finger down her cheek. “You know I wouldn’t intentionally do anything to hurt you or Brendon and Ari.”

  “I know.” She hung her head and shook it.

  Her defeat fueled his anger. “What about Matt’s drinking, that you suspect he’s abusing alcohol when the kids are with him? Equal game. I know the Sheriff is using my supposed alcohol use against me, talking up that I’m just like my father to anyone who’ll listen. The gossip paints you, too, if you associate with me.”

  “No, I can’t go there.” She stood ramrod straight. “I have the information about Matt’s drinking only from Brendon. I won’t make him speak against his father, even if it’s only to the court-appointed law guardian to share with the court. I’d rather he and Ari not be dragged into it at all. Nor should they have to. It’s highly unlikely the judge will act on revoking my custody. Besides, Matt and Crystal don’t want the kids there full-time. He as much as told me so. It would interfere with their lifestyle. We’ll end up taking up the court’s time to work out a new visitation agreement to accommodate Matt and Crystal’s move, something we could sit down with our lawyers and do.”

  “So taking you to court is all a power trip.”

  “Pretty much. Matt and the Sheriff revel in the grandstanding, being in charge.”

  “In their minds.”

  Becca frowned.

  He shouldn’t have been so caustic. Jared knew Becca had been through this before. More than once. But it seemed like she was ready to roll over and give in to the Nortons again.

  “It’s so wearing on me and hard on Ari and Brendon. They hear everything from their father and grandparents as if it’s a done deal, and come back to me confused and upset. I thought we had everything worked out the last time we went to court. It’s been three years. Why now, again?”

  “Because of Matt’s move to Florida?”

  “I don’t know. It started earlier in the summer, before Matt got the offer in Florida.”

  All feeling drained from Jared. Earlier in the summer. Like when I returned to Paradox Lake. The last thing he wanted was to cause problems for Becca, to be responsible in any way for placing her in a position where she’d have to fight to keep Brendon and Ari.

  Becca looked toward her house. “I need to get going. Since the kids are at Matt’s, I volunteered to help Karen shop and set up for your grandmother’s surprise birthday luncheon at church tomorrow during coffee hour. I ran out to blow off some steam. I didn’t intend to be gone so long.”

  “I can give you a lift.” He nodded at his bike.

  “You only have one helmet.”

  “You can wear it. I trust myself to get us up the hill to your house safely.”

  “I didn’t mean...”

  “I’m teasing,” he said, adjusting the strap on the helmet before handing it to her.

  “I am a little nervous,” she admitted. “I’ve only ridden a motorcycle once, with you, on the road.”

  “Hey, I’m a professional. And, truth be told, the ground is more forgiving than the pavement.”

  She gave him a mock-stern look. “Nothing tricky on the way.”

  “Nothing tricky on the way,” he echoed. “I promise.”

  He lifted his bike upright and seated himself, steadying the vehicle for Becca to climb on behind him. She slid her arms around his waist, his abs tightening at the touch of her fingers. He could get used to this.

  “Hang on.” He turned on the engine and took off in low gear, holding the bike back. As he’d said, he’d never do anything to hurt her.

  Jared came to a slow stop in her driveway in front of the garage and glanced up the road, half expecting the Nortons to arrive as they had the last time he and Becca had run into each other in the meadow. He shook off the bad memories, clamped his hands tighter on the grips than necessary and planted his booted feet on the driveway so she could climb off.

  Becca released him and took off the helmet. She walked to the front of the bike, grinned and placed it on his head. A warmth that had nothing to do with the summer morning filled him as she adjusted the strap under his chin and snapped it to the helmet. He smiled as she ran her finger between the strap and his chin, testing the fit.

  When she was satisfied, she stepped back. “Thanks for listening to me. I know it’s not your problem. See you at church tomorrow.”

  He sat with the bike off until she was in the house. She was wrong there. It was his problem because he was part of the cause. He cranked on the motor and jetted back over the fields to the pull-in where he’d parked his truck and trailer. And he was going to do something about it.

  As he slammed the door of the trailer shut behind his bike, Jared looked up at the cloudless sky. Lord, this may be the hardest and most selfless thing I’ve ever done. I won’t come between Becca and her children. Please give me the strength to leave Becca before I’m too in love with her to go.

  * * *

  Shopping and setting up for the luncheon didn’t take nearly as much time as Becca had expected. She’d had plenty of time to do all her weekend chores as well. With the kids gone to Matt’s so much this summer, the house had never been cleaner—or emptier. The letter from Family Court shouted at her every time she walked by the bill-and-mail holder by the telephone in the dining room. She’d talk with Matt on Monday after the kids were back with her.

  Restless energy sent her back to her summer to-do list pinned to the cork board above the stand. Most of the remaining things were outdoor tasks, and the brilliantly clear morning had given way to clouds and showers off and on. Her gaze went to the sideboard she’d bought last weekend. Cleaning it out and polishing it would kill some time. Then, maybe she’d call Emily and see if she wanted to catch whatever was showing at the Strand this week. They could ask Tessa Hamilton to join them for coffee or something after she finished showing the film. Make it a girls’ night out.

  Emily picked up Becca’s call on the first ring with a breathless, “Hello.”

  “Hi, it’s Becca. I was wondering if you’re up for a girls’ night out tonight.”

  “No, sorry. One of Drew’s campers had to come today instead of tomorrow. We’re heading down to Albany to pick her up at the bus station. Long story. Her mother only bought her a ticket to Albany, rather than to Schroon Lake.”

  “Okay. I’ll talk to you later.” Becca hung up and tapped her contact list. Connor’s name showed second on the list. She could call Jared, include Connor and Tessa in the movie invitation, as if it was a group get-together.

  She clicked off her phone in disgust. What was she, one of her sophomore students with a mad crush on a senior, conniving ways to be in the same place her crush was? This morning notwithstanding, she and Jared had agreed to put off any exploration of a relationship until after the Zoning Board vote, when she’d thought the Sheriff would back off scrutinizing her every move. Now she had the Family Court hearing. Ken would still be watching. She massaged her temples. But hadn’t God led her to Jared’s strength? Or was she once again misreading the direction, imposing her own desire to be with Jared over His words?

  Becca eyed the sideboard. Some good hard work might help her clear her mind and open it to His guidance. Where to start? She lined up her cleaning supplies and lemon oil on the table with a pan of warm water. Might as well begin with the drawers. She opened the first one, drew it all the way out and emptied the dirt and dust in the waste basket before gently scrubbing it clean. She did the same with the second one
. Once she had them done, she’d spread the lemon oil over the wood, as she’d seen her grandmother do.

  The third drawer stuck about halfway. She pulled harder, and it came out with the crunch of crumpling paper. Becca peered into the sideboard. It looked like an envelope. It must have slipped between the side of the drawer and the sideboard. She opened the door below the drawer and crouched to remove the yellowed envelope. A piece of paper with writing on it showed through the tear the drawer had ripped open. It must be a letter. Becca stood and moved to toss the envelope in the wastebasket. She stopped. The sideboard was at least one hundred years old, possibly older. The matching pieces Becca’s grandmother had given her had belonged to Becca’s great-grandmother. Her history teacher persona took over. The letter might have historical significance. Maybe a letter from a World War I soldier to his sweetheart.

  A closer look told Becca her imagination was getting away from her. The envelope wasn’t yellowed. It was yellow. Several months ago the Paradox Lake General Store had gotten an order of multi-colored envelopes that hadn’t sold. At the end, the store owner had reduced the price to almost nothing. Bert had probably taken advantage of the bargain. Again, she went to throw the envelope out. The letter could be one Bert had written but hadn’t been able to mail before he got so sick. She pulled out the page. An early June date was written in the top right hand corner and Jared’s name was in the salutation. She should put it back in the envelope and give it to Jared. As she started to fold the letter closed, her ex-father-in-law’s name, followed by Jared’s father’s name, drew her attention. She sat in one of the dining room chairs and smoothed out the page on the table.

  When she’d finished the letter, she stared at the shaky scribbled writing. Unbelievable. Outrage and compassion for Jared and his family washed away the guilt she’d felt when she’d started reading. Wait until she showed it to Jared. But that would be after she confronted the Sheriff.

  * * *

  A few hours later, the sideboard was clean and oiled until it glistened in the late afternoon sun that streamed through the bay window. While she’d worked, Becca had thanked the Lord more than once for leading her to the letter, and she’d gone over Bert’s words in her head until she was ready for the Sheriff’s arrival. A car door slammed outside, pulling her from her inspection of the restored sideboard.

  Becca got to the kitchen door just before Ari burst in followed by Brendon and their grandparents. “Hi, guys. Did you have a good time?”

  Both kids glanced back at the Sheriff and Debbie.

  “I guess,” Ari said.

  “Sure.” Brendon shrugged.

  “Well, I have a little surprise for you,” Becca said with forced cheerfulness. “Your grandmother is going to take you to the soft-serve ice-cream stand.”

  Debbie looked over the kids’ heads at Becca, clearly confused. “Ken and I were going right home. We hadn’t planned on ice cream.”

  “What’s this about?” the Sheriff demanded.

  “You and I need to talk privately.”

  “Is this about the Family Court letter?”

  Ari pressed herself to Becca’s side, and Becca wrapped her arm around her daughter’s shoulder. Brendon stared at the floor.

  “Ken. The kids,” Debbie said, her gaze darting from Ari to Brendon.

  “That’s between you and Matt,” he said, ignoring his wife’s warning.

  Becca straightened to her full height. “No, we need to talk about another letter, a letter Bert Miller wrote.”

  The Sheriff stiffened. “Debbie, take the kids for ice cream.”

  “Come on, Ari, Brendon,” she said without question, pushing the screen door open.

  Ari looked up at Becca. The distress in her eyes took a chink out of Becca’s bravado. “Go, ahead. It’s okay,” she said.

  “Yeah,” Brendon said. “Grandma’s going to take us to get ice cream so Mom can talk some grown-up stuff with Grandpa.”

  Becca gave silent thanks for her son’s perceptiveness and help with his sister.

  The Sheriff stared at her narrowed eyed until the sound of Debbie starting the car filtered in to the house. “So, Donnelly got the letter.”

  “You know about the letter?”

  “Bert threatened he was going to write Donnelly. What did he tell you it says?”

  “Let’s sit.” Becca motioned him to the table. “Jared didn’t tell me anything. I found the letter in the sideboard I bought from the woman who inherited his house.”

  “The house that was supposed to be Debbie’s and mine.” The Sheriff gripped the edge of the table. “You haven’t told Donnelly?”

  “No.”

  “Good. I’ll take the letter and make the Family Court hearing go away.”

  “Are you trying to bribe me?”

  “No,” he blustered. “Matt and Crystal are having second thoughts about Brendon and Ari being with them all of the time. He has a lot of business commitments.”

  “And they might get in the way?”

  “I didn’t say that. Now, give me the letter.”

  The edge in the Sheriff’s voice sent a ripple of fear through Becca. She drew on her inner strength to continue. “No, I’m not going to. It’s all true, isn’t it?”

  “I can’t tell you whether or not it’s true if I don’t know what it says. Let me look at it.” He held his hand out for the letter.

  Becca ignored him. “You arrested Jared’s father and let him be charged and convicted of vehicular assault for running a stop sign, plowing into Liz Whittan’s car and putting her in a wheelchair for life, when you knew he didn’t do it.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “You didn’t know that Bert was driving the car, not Jared’s father?”

  “No!”

  “Then why did Bert think you did? In the letter, he apologized to Jared, saying he lied to you and you lied for him.”

  “That’s not the way it was.” The Sheriff’s bluster drained away. “I didn’t know before Jerry, Jared’s father, was convicted. When I got to the scene, both men were out of the car. It was Jerry’s car. Bert said Jerry was driving, and Jerry didn’t say otherwise.” The Sheriff rubbed his chin. “Jerry was really out of it. He didn’t say much of anything when I arrested him, or later. You have to understand. There was bad blood between us. He stole the girl I was going to marry, Jared’s mother, Gail. We went together all through high school and had an understanding. Jerry made her life torture.”

  Becca didn’t know what to say. The Sheriff was holding a grudge for something that happened more than thirty-five years ago. He and Debbie had been married—happily, she’d thought—for thirty-five years.

  “Don’t look at me like that. I love Debbie. But that doesn’t mean I forgot Gail or have to forgive Jerry.”

  “When did you know Bert was driving?”

  “Not for sure until the week he died. I went with Debbie to visit him, and he told me he’d written the letter to Jared. I suspected Bert might have been a few months after Jerry was released from jail when Bert told Debbie he’d written a will giving her most of his property. She’s his cousin, was his closest living relative. But they’ve never been close. Bert made an off-hand comment that I took to mean he was making her his heir because he thought I’d known he was driving and had kept my mouth shut.

  “So Debbie knows?”

  “No.” A note of fear showed in his voice. “She was in the kitchen putting away the groceries we’d picked up for him. You’ve got to understand what it would do to me, my reputation, if this gets out.”

  “Like you considered what you’ve been doing to Jared?”

  The Sheriff avoided her gaze. “Everything started falling apart when Bert died. Instead of Debbie inheriting Bert’s property, most of it went to the Donnellys and that home-health aide. We’d pla
nned on that money for our retirement. And I was afraid you wouldn’t let us see the kids once we’d retired to Florida.”

  Disgust roiled inside Becca. And to think she’d once tried to love this man as a father.

  “Donnelly showed up and it became apparent he hadn’t received Bert’s letter. I thought I could discredit him and he’d go away and make plans to build his racetrack somewhere else before Bert’s letter caught up with him. Bert and Jerry are both gone. No harm, no foul.”

  She stared at him in disbelief. “You saw no harm to the Donnellys? What were you thinking?”

  He cleared his throat and dropped his head to his chest. “I wasn’t. I was reacting. I wanted to get Debbie down to Florida so that she’d be spared some of the shame if Donnelly decided to come back later and make a big deal about it.”

  At least he cared something about someone else. No, that wasn’t entirely fair. He loved the kids in his own way.

  “You’re going to tell Donnelly.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “Yes.” She reached out to him. “But I won’t keep Ari and Brendon from you. They like doing things with you and Debbie.” She hesitated and then went on, “It’s Matt and Crystal that they aren’t crazy about spending time with.” Becca braced herself for the Sheriff’s blast. She’d insulted Matt, his pride and joy.

  “I know. The Family Court petition was Debbie and my idea, so we’d be able to see the kids after we move. I’ll get Matt to drop it.”

  “Thank you. You and Debbie and I can get together and work out a visitation agreement.”

  “You’d do that for us? You forgive me?”

  “I’m doing it for Brendon and Ari, and I’ll work on the forgiveness. But I think you have a few others you have to ask for forgiveness. And I trust you’ll talk with Debbie?”

  He blanched and nodded.

  Becca heard the slam of the kitchen screen door snapping shut and breathed a calming breath.