Isle of Hope

by Julie Lessman

  Leg cocked, he placed hands low on his hips, studying her with a twitch of humor. “Live shrimp on a cork, but I suppose I’ll have to bait your hook too, won’t I?”

  “Come on, Jack, you know I can’t stand to touch slimy things.” She wrinkled her nose. “Unless they’re boiled and served with cocktail sauce, so man up and bait my hook, ’cause your hands are already smelly.”

  He reached for the bait bucket with an exaggerated roll of eyes. “I swear, you’re the only tomboy I’ve ever met who won’t bait her own hook, you big sissy.”

  “I’m a girl, Jack, and we like to smell nice, so sue me.” She perched on tiptoe to watch him closely while he fished his hand in the bucket. “Just make sure you don’t give me a shrimp shrimp, O’Bryen, one that’s tinier than yours.”

  He arched a brow. “First you mock me, then you boss me around?” He rose and tossed her the rod, laughing when she caught it with a squeal. “Some things never change, I guess.”

  “Nope. On your mark, get set, go!” Before he could blink, she stepped away and arced the fishing line up in a clean sweep across the water, squinting in concentration as she drifted the line downwind.

  “Hey, I’m not even ready yet, you little brat.” Slashing a hand into the bait bucket, he rigged his line in record time, then whipped it high in a perfect cast that rippled over the water. “But that’s okay, Mike,” he said with a lazy grin. “You’ll need all the time you can get.”

  Her gaze never strayed from her line while her jaw notched up, a flicker of a smile flitting across her lips. “Your mother said you have twenty minutes tops, O’Bryen, till dinner is on, so that may hurt you, but me?” Her profile sported a grin. “I won’t need that long.”

  The dock thundered with the clomping of little-boy sneakers that sounded anything but sneaky. “Lacey, Lacey, you fishing too?” Spence and Davey screeched across the dock, thumping and rattling the wooden planks so much, Jack was pretty sure any fish had hightailed it to the other side of the river. “What are you using?” Davey skidded to a stop with a pole and stringer in hand. Behind him, Spence carried his piece of driftwood like a priceless treasure.

  “Same as Mr. Cocky here—shrimp on a cork,” Lacey replied, a gleam of trouble in the side glance she slid Jack’s way. “In a contest for first fish landed before dinner because somebody here has to teach this guy a little humility.”

  “Good luck with that,” Matt said, moseying onto the dock with a string of decent fish. “I’ve been trying since the boy was knee-high to a crawdad, but for all his book smarts, he’s a liiiiiittle slow.”

  Jack chuckled. With an expert snap of his wrist, he patiently popped his cork, producing a chugging sound that resulted in a splash of water eight inches high. “That’s because ‘slow’ is key, my man, especially when fishing with a popping cork, as Miss Twitchy Fingers here is about to learn when I win.”

  “What do you win?” Spence asked with a scrunch of freckles, the driftwood clutched to his chest.

  Jack’s gaze converged with Lacey’s. “Well, I don’t believe we set the terms yet, now did we, Miss Carmichael?” he said with an evil grin, enjoying the competitive camaraderie he and Lacey had once shared. “But I think it should be something really good, don’t you, Spence?”

  “Yeah!” Davey vaulted and fist-pumped the air. “Ice cream at Coldstone after supper.”

  “Uh-oh.” With a grate of her lip, Lacey offered a penitent glance, shoulders hunched in apology. “Sorry, guys, but Mamaw sent a peach pie that Davey’s mom plans to serve with vanilla bean ice cream.”

  “Awesome,” Matt said with a tweak of Davey’s neck. “I’ve had Mamaw’s peach pie, and it’s killer, Dave, trust me. Especially with your mom’s homemade ice cream.”

  “Cool!” Davey high-fived Spence, then spun around to face Lacey. “But what else would be a good prize?”

  “Well …” Lacey’s lips pursed in thought as she skipped her cork across the water. “How about the loser takes drink orders and serves them?” she suggested, bobbling her cork way too often to Jack’s way of thinking. “That’s the job Davey’s mom gave me when she invited me to dinner.”

  “Wow, you’re staying for dinner?” Spence’s eyes blinked even wider than usual as a shy grin eased across his lips. “Way cool!”

  “I’ll second that,” Jack said with a much slower, steadier pop of his cork, grinning when he felt a slight tug on his line, “but let’s up the ante to both drink service and loser waits on the winner all night.”

  “Deal!” Lacey jerked her rod up hard, her line as taut as the smile on her face while she strained to reel in a definite flash of silver at the exact moment Jack set his hook.

  Screeches blistered Jack’s ears as the boys bounded into the air with hoops and hollers when a beauty of a trout leapt from the water at the end of his line. Adrenaline coursed as he fought to reel him in, his muscles tense and slick with sweat. “Come on, baby,” he whispered, determined that Lacey Carmichael would—for tonight at least—do his bidding.

  “Holy cow, it’s a tie!” Davey shouted, rattling the dock with wild stomping while cheers and whistles sounded from behind.

  Matt moved to the edge of the dock, his laughter ringing as Lacey and Jack battled it out, grunt for grunt. “Then biggest fish wins,” he called, and Jack had no time to compare. All he knew was he hadn’t had a fighter like this all summer, and it was a flippin’ monster. He prayed—likely for the first time in years—that his line wouldn’t break. He’d be bushed after landing this one for sure, but that was okay because tonight he could rest on his laurels. Reeling it in, he quickly squatted to hook his fingers into the massive jaws of a truly beautiful spottail bass, lifting it from the water with a satisfied grin. Oh yes, indeedy. Lacey Carmichael would be waiting on him tonight.

  Hand, foot, and finger.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Boy, I sure could go for another piece of pie—is there any left?” Matt pushed his chair back as if to rise, scanning the table with a crooked smile. “Anybody else want some?”

  “No thanks, I’m stuffed,” Lacey said, tugging on Matt’s sleeve to make him stay put, “but Jack’ll be happy to get you another piece, won’t you, Jackson?” Smile smug, she fluttered her lashes, savoring the tight press of Jack’s smile as he seared her with a narrow look.

  “The deal was I’d wait on you all night, Your Highness, not some overgrown driftwood angler.” Jack said over the rim of his coffee mug, the twinkle in his eyes belying his gruff tone.

  “Sorry, Jeeves, but ‘waiting on me’ entails doing whatever my little heart desires, right, guys?”

  “Right!” A chorus of shouts and giggles circled a table laden with dirty dishes that flickered in the soft glow of a half-burned pillar candle.

  Matt eased back in his chair with a lazy grin, raising his glass of tea in a toast. “Oh, and could I have that pie warmed in the microwave for twenty seconds or so, bro? With a double scoop of ice cream?”

  A chuckle rumbled from Tess’s throat as she hopped up to clear the table, stacking dirty plates with utensils on top. “Good thing I set aside two pieces for the girls before you boys wolf it all down.” She pressed a kiss to Jack’s sun-streaked hair. “Face it, Son, you’re darn lucky it wasn’t me or Matt who won against you because we’d keep you busy well beyond midnight.”

  “Gee, Mom, thanks for the support,” Jack said with a mock scowl, rising to attend to Matt’s pie.

  “Uh, uh, uh …” Lacey arched a brow in Jack’s direction before flashing a bright smile at his mother, her tone as sweet as the glass of peach tea in her hand. “Come on, Tess, sit down, please. Jack’ll be happy to collect dishes on his way to the kitchen and even do them after he delivers Matt’s pie, right, Jeeves?”

  Jack’s jaw began to grind. “You’re milking this for all it’s worth, Carmichael,” he said with a threatening tip of his head, his blue eyes searing hers while he relieved his mother of her stack of dishes.

  “Oooo … milk, right!”
Lacey tousled Spence’s hair. “I’ll bet you boys could use a little more chocolate milk too, couldn’t you?”

  “Yeah!”

  Matt slanted back in his chair with a broad grin, hands braced to the back of his neck. “Uh, Lace, hate to impose, but my car could sure use a shine …”

  “I’ll give you a shine, Ball,” Jack said with bump of Matt’s shoulder while he reached for his dirty dishes, “right around the eye.” He tilted Matt’s plate, plopping an uneaten maraschino cherry into the lap of his cousin’s khaki Dockers shorts. “Whoops—need me to toss those shorts in the wash too?” He snickered as he collected dirty utensils and plates. “Although I can’t guarantee much since cherry juice stains.”

  Matt grinned. “No problem, Doc, I got ’em out of your drawer.”

  “That settles it,” Jack groused, rounding the table to stack dishes clear up to his chin, undoubtedly inflicting stains of all kinds on his white T-shirt. “I’m putting a padlock on my bureau tomorrow.”

  Matt aimed the cherry at Jack, splotching his cousin’s nose with pink juice before it plopped on the top plate. “Come on, Jack, you know I can’t afford new clothes on a coach’s salary, and you’re in the big bucks now, so have a heart. Besides, I’m the cousin and near brother you love as well as your best friend, remember?”

  Jack’s mouth skewed into a wry smile. “I have a heart, Ball, but I’m afraid it’s a little bruised by ‘friends’ like you.”

  Lacey’s cheeks steamed with embarrassment, Jack’s innocent remark hitting a little too close to home. She glanced at her watch, suddenly anxious to deliver the pie to her father and be on her way. “Goodness, it’s well after eight. What time did you say Daddy usually gets home, Tess?”

  “Soon, sweetheart, I promise.” Tess cocked her head as if to listen. “Wait—I think I heard a car door slam, so that could be him now.” She popped up and scurried down the driveway, returning a few moments later with Shannon and Cat in tow. “Nope, just my girls finally home, in time for peach crumble pie and ice cream.”

  “Did you say peach pie?” Cat’s voice carried from around the corner of the house before she entered the patio behind Shannon, whose face lit up at first glimpse of Lacey. With a gravelly chuckle, Cat pushed past her sister, a hungry gleam in her eyes. “Count me—” One foot on the flagstone patio, and her body froze along with her smile, jaw gaping enough to house a colony of mosquitoes.

  Tess gripped Cat’s shoulder, her firm hold meant to imply a warning, no doubt. “Lacey and her cousin Spence joined us for dinner, girls,” she said in an even tone that implied authority, “and it was Lacey’s grandmother who provided the pie. So grab a seat, and Jack will do the honors of serving it warm with ice cream.”

  Pie congealed into a hard lump at the pit of Lacey’s stomach when Cat flicked her mother’s hand away and backed off, her look caustic. “Suddenly I’m not so hungry anymore,” she said with a sneer, slipping into the house with a slam of the screen door. “I need a shower.”

  “Catherine Marie!” Tess called, but Cat disappeared into the house, the sound of another door slamming indicating she had obviously fled to her room. The regret on Jack’s mother face was as pronounced as the nausea in Lacey’s gut. Bending over, she hooked an arm over Lacey’s shoulder, her voice threaded with the same sorrow Lacey felt inside. “She’ll come around, sweetheart, just give her time.”

  Shannon squatted beside Lacey’s chair, gentle blue eyes steeped in sympathy. “Mom’s right, Lace. Cat tends to bury her hurt behind humor and anger, but she couldn’t be this angry if she hadn’t loved and missed you as much.”

  “I know,” Lacey whispered, her gaze rising to meet Jack’s solemn one.

  “What’s wrong, Mom?” Davey peered up beneath a crimp of tiny brows.

  Matt’s chair scraped a flagstone as he stood up. He pushed it back in and gave Lacey’s shoulder a quick squeeze while he glanced at the boys. “Who wants to help me dig up some worms for a little night fishing?”

  “Me, me, me!” Both boys shot up with a squeal.

  Matt’s gaze flicked to the patches of sky through the trees, now washed in pink hues of dusk. “Best get moving then, ’cause our light’s almost gone. Thanks, Aunt Tess, for supper. Nice to know you and the girls can relax while Jack does the dishes.” Sliding Jack a wicked grin, he herded the boys toward the driveway, leaving a chuckle behind. “Keep my pie warm, Jack.

  “Make sure they wear life jackets on the dock,” Tess called.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Matt gave a backwards thumbs up before sending Lacey a sober smile over his shoulder. “Pulling for you, Lace, with your dad, so here’s to smooth sailing.”

  “Thanks, Matt,” she called. “If I don’t drown first.”

  “You won’t.” Tess shored her up with a brisk rub of Lacey’s back. “Shan and I will be over here throwing you a lifeline with prayer, guaranteed. And if you need anymore pull than that, ol’ Jack here can always toss you the string of his pretty apron.”

  “Cute.” Jack plodded toward the kitchen, but not before delivering a wink over a pile of dirty dishes. “Of course, you could always have me take the pie over, Your Majesty, but then he’d probably throw it at me, which would be a waste of a perfectly good pie.”

  “But so worth it,” Lacey muttered, her smile sloping sideways.

  A car door slammed, and the blood drained from Lacey’s face.

  Tess scurried down the driveway a second time to peek through the hedge, then returned in a sprint, darting into the kitchen to retrieve a container of her homemade ice cream. In a squeal of the screen door, she was back, placing it on the table before she slid into the chair next to Lacey and squeezed her hand. “Okay, sweetheart, when he opens the front door—”

  “If he opens the front door,” Lacey corrected.

  Tess arched a brow. “Yes, well you just keep pushing that silly haunted-house bell of his until it drives him crazy, you hear? He’ll open it fast enough.”

  Lacey’s jaw dropped. “Yes, that’s exactly what that awful doorbell sounds like!”

  “Oh, I remember,” Shannon said with a nervous giggle, “it always gave Cat and me the shivers.”

  One side of Lacey’s mouth quirked. “Me too, Shan, not unlike Daddy when he was in one of his moods.”

  Worry lines crinkled above Tess’s nose before her gaze flicked to Shannon. “Shan, why don’t you have Jack heat up that pie for you, darling, okay?”

  “Sure, Mom.” Shannon rose to give Lacey a hug, a hint of understanding in her tone. “Don’t be a stranger, Lace—we have a lot of catching up to do, all right?”

  Lacey embraced the quiet friend who had always been such a source of strength. “You bet, Shan. Soon, I promise.”

  The screen door creaked closed when Shannon entered the house, and as soon as she did, Tess spoke, her voice barely a whisper. “Lacey, I hate to ask this, but your dad never …” A lump bobbed in her throat. “Well, you know … he never hit you or your mom … did he?”

  Lacey shuddered. “No, but to be honest, Tess, most of the time growing up he was so distant and removed that I almost wished we could evoke more of a response out of him, you know? Of course, that all changed once I showed an interest in boys.” She grunted. “Lots of response then, all of it bad.”

  “Oh, honey …” Tess gathered her in a tight hug, her comforting hold infusing Lacey with a much-needed strength to face her father. “I think he’s changing, I really do. He wouldn’t talk to me either until I refused to take no for an answer, and you just have to do the same. Now he doesn’t seem to mind so much when I bring him monster cookies or come over for a chat.” She pulled away, eyes narrowed in thought. “Of course he did put locks on the gates to keep me out, I suppose …” Her shoulders lifted in a dismissive shrug as she gave Lacey a smile. “But, oh well—I don’t let that bother me, and you shouldn’t either. Whenever I hear him out on his patio, I just shimmy through that hole in the hedge at the back of his yard while he’s reading the paper.”

>   Lacey couldn’t help the twitch of a smile. “And he actually talks to you?”

  Tess grinned, eyebrows dancing like the twinkle in her eyes. “Eventually. Kinda hard to ignore a pest with a plate of cookies in her lap and a talent for chatter.” She winked. “The poor guy can’t say no to sweets to save his soul.”

  A giggle tripped from Lacey’s lips that broke into a sob as she threw herself into Tess’s arms. “Oh, Tess, I’m so grateful you were in our lives over the years before everything changed. You were like a second mother to me and such a good friend to my mom.” Her expression sobered as a malaise settled in, grief stabbing as always whenever she thought of her mother. “Mom suffered so much guilt over everything that happened, that it seemed to suck the life out of her. I don’t think she ever quite forgave herself, nor was ever the same.”

  Tess patted Lacey’s back, her touch helping to soothe the awful ache inside. “I know, honey.” Her weary sigh fluttered the hair at the back of Lacey’s neck. “I’ll admit it took me a while to forgive both Karen and Adam, but through the grace of God, I eventually did. I even wrote her a number of letters telling her so, but she never responded.”

  “She was too ashamed,” Lacey whispered, swiping the wetness from her face.

  Tess nodded. “I know.” With a brisk buff of Lacey’s arms, she offered an encouraging smile, chin elevated with a steely confidence. “Well, it’s a new day, young lady, and a new opportunity to heal wounds and bring some joy into your life … and into your father’s.” She ducked her head to lean in, tone as gentle as her smile. “Just remember, Lacey …” Her gaze was suddenly somber. “It’s not about you, honey, it’s about your father. Allowing God to use you and your burgeoning faith to shine His light and love into the dark and desolate world of a man who is so very lost.” She blinked several times, dispelling a sheen of moisture as she stroked Lacey’s cheek. “And I promise you, darling, with everything in me, that through your hard-won obedience, God will heal you both in the process, unleashing untold blessings that will bring so much joy into your lives.” With a gentle pat of Lacey’s arms, Tess pulled away. “You’re welcome to come back after if you like, but if you decide to go home, I’ll expect a full report the next time you come for dinner, understood?”