Finding the Road Home

by Tina Radcliffe

  She wore paint-stained overalls, a tie-dyed fluorescent shirt and a faded red ball cap backward on her head. Her hair had been pulled into a low ponytail. The whole picture reminded him once again that he was old enough to be... Well, he was old.

  When he got closer, he could see that she had one gloved hand splayed against the clapboard while the other stretched to reach a cracked dormer window.

  His heart lurched.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  She didn’t acknowledge him, but continued to stretch.

  Then he noticed the earbuds.

  Mitch stared for a minute while he tried to figure out how to get her attention without scaring her off the already precarious perch. Oblivious to his presence, she continued to tiptoe her fingers toward the glass.

  A fraction of a second later, a screwdriver bounced off a ladder rail and hit two steps in its descent toward Mitch. He jumped aside.

  Daisy yanked out the earbuds and turned, causing the ladder to wobble yet again.

  “Careful!” Mitch reached out a hand to hold a rung.

  “Chief? I mean, Mitch.” She scrambled down the steps and pulled off her yard gloves. “I didn’t know you were there. Did I hit you?”

  “Close, but no. I tried to let you know I was here,” he said.

  “Sorry. Earbuds. I wear them so I can hear if the nanny cam goes off inside the house. It pings on my phone to let me know when the children are on the move.”

  He glanced up at the house. “Were you trying to get yourself killed?”

  “Of course not.” She crossed her arms. “Seth knocked a baseball into the dormer window. I was attempting to sort of push the glass back into place.”

  “I’ll take care of that for you.”

  She frowned. “I can handle a simple window.”

  “I’m sure you can, except you aren’t tall enough and neither is that ladder.”

  Daisy glanced up and seemed to consider his offer. “Well...”

  “Give me five minutes. I’ll measure the pane. You can put in an order for the glass at the hardware store. They’ll even send someone out to replace it if you ask.”

  “Is that necessary? I thought pushing the glass back into place would suffice for now.”

  “Looks to me like a strong wind could knock it out. If we get a good summer rain, you’re going to have more than air coming in.”

  A grimace marred her features, and she closed her eyes as if reconciling herself to his words. “Note to self. Move window repair to the top of a never-ending to-do list.”

  “Come on. I’m not doing anything right now. Why not at least allow me to do a temporary patch and measure the pane for you?”

  “All right. Thanks.”

  “Have you got a tape measure?”

  Daisy disappeared into the house and came back a moment later with a carpenter’s tape measure.

  “Perfect.” Mitch repositioned the ladder, tucked the tape measure in his pocket and climbed to the top step. When he pulled the tape measure out of his pocket, the ladder wobbled and creaked.

  “Oh!” Daisy reached both hands out to firmly grasp the rails.

  “It’s fine. It held you, didn’t it?”

  “Don’t take offense, but you’ve got more bulk than I do, and the ladder is as old as the house. I really don’t want to have to explain to Henna or Roscoe why you’re unconscious in my backyard when I call 911.”

  Mitch chuckled. “Good point.” He measured the window, and then took out his camera and snapped a few shots.

  “Why are you taking pictures?”

  He glanced down at her. “Kind of an odd size. I’ll take it with me to be sure we get the correct piece.”

  Hands on hips, she stared up at him with that determined expression on her face. “I thought I was going to do that.”

  “I stop by the hardware store nearly every day. It’s no big deal.” He stretched the tape measure and made a note of the length and width in his phone.

  “What’s that sound?” Daisy asked.

  “What sound?” Mitch kept measuring.

  “Are you humming?” she asked.

  He froze and met her gaze. “Am I?” It spoke volumes that he was comfortable enough around her to be humming. Except that his brothers often warned him that his musical abilities were frightening.

  She nodded. “It sounded like ‘Amazing Grace.’”

  “Could be, I guess.” He did his best to appear nonchalant. With the snap of the tape measure closing, he dared to glance at her once again. “Was I off-key?”

  “No,” she stammered when their gazes met and held.

  “That’s a relief. Normally I try to wait until I know someone better before I humiliate myself.”

  Daisy smiled. “Good plan in theory.”

  “You want to throw me that duct tape?” Mitch asked.

  “That’s probably not a good idea. Seth and I have the same pitching skills.”

  Mitch tried not to laugh as he climbed down the steps. When she offered him the tape, he noted the short practical nails. His gaze moved to her face. Everything about her was practical, except her wild hair. Even with a ball cap, the springy tendrils seemed to float like they had a mind of their own. Just like Daisy.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing.”

  She dropped the tape into his palm, offering an almost shy smile.

  “Thanks,” he murmured before taking the steps back up the ladder. Tearing the tape, he placed even pieces along the cracks and carefully smoothed the silver material with his hand. “What do you think?” He stepped down to the ground and assessed his handiwork. “That should do the trick.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’ll get that order in.”

  “I am very appreciative,” Daisy said. “But we agree that I am totally capable of putting in my own order. Correct?”

  “Yep.” He nodded. “I live around the block from the hardware store. Just saving you a trip into town.” He avoided her eyes. Yeah, just saving her a trip and trying to help the woman who didn’t want anyone’s help.

  “That’s right. I forgot you mentioned that you live in town.”

  “I do, and I never have to worry about making it to the office during inclement weather.”

  “That explains a lot.”

  “Does it?”

  “Yes. It explains why you’re always the first one in.”

  “Monitoring my attendance?”

  Daisy released a soft breath, and her face pinked. “No. I like to get into work early and I...well, I’ve noticed that I have never been able to beat you in.”

  “A little competitive?”

  “That’s a given.”

  He laughed and folded up the ladder. “Where do you want this?”

  “Leave it. I’ll put it away later.” She gestured toward the house. “May I offer you a slice of pie while you explain how you happened to be around when I needed assistance?”

  “I’m all in for pie, but in truth, I nearly forgot why I was here when I saw you on that ladder,” he admitted.

  “Oh, come on, you weren’t really concerned, were you?”

  “Yeah, I was.” Mitch followed her into the house, where she pulled her cap off her head and tossed it on a coat rack in the hall. “And I stopped by because Henna picked up the curriculum for the self-defense class from the printer. I’ve got them all bound and ready to go in my trunk.”

  “You could have brought them to class tomorrow.”

  “Sure but if an emergency came up and I was late, then you’d be without them.”

  “You aren’t planning on an emergency, are you?”

  “I’m the chief. It happens.”

  “I appreciate your foresight.” She headed down a short hall to the kitchen.

 
; “I also thought you should hear the good news from me.”

  Daisy stopped short in the middle of the kitchen, and he nearly ran into her.

  “Whoa, careful there,” he said as she turned around.

  “There’s good news?”

  “The town council met this afternoon. They’ve green-lighted the community center project. If we can keep it running with volunteers and donations until city elections in November, a bill for permanent funding will be on the ballot.”

  “That’s wonderful news.”

  “Puts us closer to turning in a report that will show we deserve the county funds.”

  “You can’t imagine what a relief this is, even if it is only one small obstacle overcome. I don’t know what I’ll do if I have to uproot those kids again.”

  When she met his gaze, his stomach knotted at the flash of vulnerability he saw. He knew what it was like to live on broken glass.

  “I told you that I won’t let that happen,” he said.

  “Mitch,” she said, “so far you’ve been a terrific boss, and I count you as a new friend.” She paused.

  “Uh-oh. The dreaded ‘but’ is coming.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “It’s not like that. I want you to understand that this is not your burden.”

  “I got you into this mess.”

  “Not really, and I apologize for my behavior last Friday. I was tired and overwhelmed.”

  “An apology is unnecessary.” He couldn’t help but notice that her eyes became a darker shade of blue when she was worked up.

  “Mitch, are you listening to me?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I am telling you that I covet your prayers regarding this situation. However, you are not responsible. I’m trusting that God has my back.”

  “I hear you,” he said. “Truth is, I’ve always had a hard time turning things over to Him if I think I can handle it myself.”

  Daisy’s eyes rounded, and a short laugh erupted. “Police chief Mitch Rainbolt, micromanaging God. Why am I not surprised?”

  “I’m working on it.”

  She nodded toward the cozy kitchen table setup. “Have a seat.”

  “Thanks.” Mitch ran a hand over his brow. “Warm in here,” he observed.

  “The central air has been arguing with me. We’ve got fans going in all the bedrooms.”

  “I can take a look at it.”

  Daisy gave him the palm. “I’ve got this.” She turned to the sink and washed her hands.

  “What is it about me helping you that bothers you?”

  “What?” She met his gaze.

  “Is it me personally?” Mitch tried to read what was going on behind her blue eyes, which were now dark with emotion.

  She released a sigh and leaned against the counter. “It’s not personal. Can we leave it at that?”

  “Sure.” For now, Mitch silently amended as he glanced around. “Awfully quiet here.”

  “Big Friday night at the Anderson house. Seth and Grace were invited to a birthday party. My grandmother wore the other children out by setting up an old-fashioned sprinkler on the lawn. They’re asleep.”

  “Wore your grandmother out too, I bet.”

  “She has unlimited energy. One of her new friends came and picked her up for book club.”

  “That’s great.” He smiled. “I like your grandmother. Reminds me a bit of my mom.”

  “My grandmother raised my sister and me when my father died. The woman is a rock.”

  “Everyone needs a rock in their lives.” His life would have been a whole lot easier if he’d had one.

  “Yes.” She stared at him for a moment. “And some people simply fill the calling, don’t they?”

  “I suppose so.” He stared right back. Was she referring to him? Nah, she was talking generalities.

  “How did vacation Bible school go?” he finally asked.

  “You were right. It was just what the twins needed. They made so many friends, and now they’re excited about school in the fall.”

  “I’m glad.” He glanced around, noting the big farmhouse table surrounded by six chairs and two high chairs. “How are the kittens working out?”

  “Star and Rascal are assimilating to our household nicely. Right now they’re in a pet play yard in the twins’ room.”

  “A pet play yard?”

  “Yes.” She reached for a dish towel. “You’d be surprised at how many places there are for kittens to hide in this house. We let them roam when they can be supervised, and when they can’t, we move the play yard to wherever the most activity is. They have toys and scratch poles and a litter box and water in there. Works out nicely.”

  “I just learned something new.”

  She met his gaze. “So Henna has the car wash scheduled?”

  “Next Sunday after the second service. In the church parking lot,” Mitch said. “High school kids are all signed up.”

  “What about Rebel Ranch?”

  “Reece is totally on board. Henna will get an ad in The Weekly Rebel for the fund-raising dinner, and Luna is handling the details of catering the meal. Roscoe already has a lead on a western band.”

  “When is the event?”

  “End of July. The Rebel PD will be in attendance.”

  “Is that an order?”

  “It is. Not that I have any interest in another social event, but this is our event. All part of getting that funding.”

  “Speaking of the department,” she said. “Any leads on the cherub case?”

  “It’s not a case. It’s a prank.” Mitch frowned. He’d spent a lifetime distancing himself and his siblings from their impoverished beginnings. He refused to let an annoying prank become the Rainbolt family legacy.

  “Maybe it’s time to bring in the Feds.” Daisy’s eyes sparkled with amusement.

  “Real funny.” Mitch crossed his arms. “I don’t know if Roscoe mentioned that we like to keep that whole situation quiet. Every time the local paper gets wind of things, they manage to make our department look like Keystone Kops.”

  “Oh, that’s what he was trying to tell me in his eloquent way.”

  “Yeah. Just ride it out.”

  “I’ll do my best. However, just riding it out is counterintuitive to the laws I am sworn to uphold.”

  “It’s a statue, Daisy. They can be purchased at the outlet garden center in Tulsa for ten bucks. Odds are that cherub has been replaced half a dozen times over the years.”

  “Understood.”

  “Really?”

  “For now.”

  “Can we talk about something else? Please.”

  “Absolutely.” She opened the fridge. “Lemon meringue? My grandmother took the rest of the pies to her meeting.”

  “I’m not particular, but lemon meringue does happen to be my favorite.”

  “Mine too.” She grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and slid them onto the table.

  “Thanks.” His gaze spanned the room, taking in the cracked linoleum and the shag carpet visible from the living room. “This place hasn’t changed much. Mrs. Kendall called those colors Brady Bunch green and Partridge Family mustard yellow.”

  “You’ve been here before?”

  “Lots of times. It was owned by the Kendalls. When my mother passed, Mrs. Kendall would watch my siblings while I picked up night classes at the community college in Tulsa and worked a couple of jobs.”

  “You make me feel like a slacker.”

  “Not at all. Although, a few times I did run smack-dab into myself coming and going.”

  “How could you afford childcare?”

  “Our own bartering system, you could say. We did chores around here. I had Reece and Tucker doing yard work. There’s a peach and apple orchard out back. We helped with the harvest
every year.” He shrugged. “Mostly the Kendalls helped us out of the kindness of their hearts.”

  Daisy offered a sympathetic nod as she cut the pie. “How old were you and your siblings when you lost your mother?”

  “I was twenty-one, which was the only reason child services didn’t step in. Reece was sixteen, Tucker twelve, Kate eight and Levi five.”

  “And your father?” She slid a dessert plate laden with a thick slice of pie and a fork and napkin in front of him.

  “He was gone more than not, and once my mother wasn’t around to wrangle him home, he simply stopped coming around.” Mitch said the words as though reciting lines from a history book. He’d learned long ago to detach himself from the pain of his mother’s death and his father’s desertion. It was the only way he could put one foot in front of the other and take care of his siblings.

  “I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

  “It all works out.” He picked up his fork while eyeing Daisy, wondering how she could possibly understand.

  “It does, doesn’t it? Whether we like it or not. When my father was killed, my mother took off,” Daisy said. “My sister and I were ten when we went to live with my grandmother.” She stared out into space. “I never really understood how a parent could walk away during a time when they’re needed the most.”

  “I gave up making sense of my father’s decisions years ago.” He met her gaze and searched her blue eyes for a long moment. Once again, it seemed Daisy and he had more in common than they ought to. Pain and hurt mostly. Maybe the lack of pity in the depths of those eyes explained why his mouth was running like a spigot. He hadn’t talked about his mother and father in a very long time.

  Daisy went to the refrigerator and removed a photo from under a collection of magnets. She handed it to him. “My sister. This is one of my favorite pictures. It’s from high school. We used to love to confuse people.”

  “You’re a twin.” Mitch peered closer, noting the matching eyes and smiles as the two young girls laughed into the camera. Even the wild halo of reddish blond hair was the same. “Identical,” he continued.

  “On the outside. On the inside, not so much. My sister was artistic, creative and very feminine. I’m more of a tomboy.”