by Lisa Carter
Jade paused beside a stained-glass window picturing a bright light shining upon Jesus in a garden. “Canyon’s grandma sent me a storybook Bible when I was little.” Her mouth drooped. “But I lost it. We moved a lot.”
“Life started in a garden.” Kristina gathered the empty tub. “God’s the ultimate master gardener.” She stopped at the end of the pew.
Sunshine glimmered specks of purple, green and gold on Jade’s upturned face. “And does He cut and prune to make more blooms on His plants, too, Kristina?”
Moving toward the front pew, Kristina halted midstride. Her eyes cut from the window to the flowers. Memories of Pax filled her senses. “You’re right, Jade. I think He must.”
Kristina blinked away tears.
* * *
Canyon was fluffing a pillow when he caught sight of Kristina’s car. She parked next to his Jeep outside his office.
Gray rubbed his hands in anticipation. “They’re here.”
Canyon watched the long-legged, jeans-clad Kristina unfold from the car. Her blond hair held back from her face in a messy ponytail, she called to Jade, who removed a white takeout bag from the backseat. Kristina balanced a tray of drinks in her arms.
He didn’t like the way his heart clicked in response to the sight of Gray’s mother. The Widow Montgomery, he reminded himself. The very widowed Montgomery. Off-limits. Only turbulent storm winds ahead with that one.
“Uncle Canyon?” Jade called from the kitchen. “We brought lunch.”
Gray loped from the bedroom down the hall. “Hooray.”
Canyon followed more slowly, giving his heart time to return to its normal steady clip. Though not a real possibility any time he got within six feet of Kristina.
He stuttered to a stop as Kristina set out paper plates on the table. Her eyes tremulous and wide, she smiled. A shy, uncertain-of-its-welcome smile.
And Canyon gave up resisting as a lost cause.
She brushed a stray tendril of hair off her cheek. “Hi.”
Canyon cleared his throat. “Hey.”
Her slim hands removed burgers and cartons of fries from the bag. “We figured you guys probably hadn’t taken time for lunch.”
Jade chewed on a French fry. “So we stopped for you.” She munched and swallowed. “Tammy and Johnny’s.”
Kristina shrugged out of her blue pea coat. “I wasn’t sure we’d find you inside the house.”
Canyon sat down before his knees gave out on him.
Gray seized one of the burger-laden plates. “We’ve been busy.” He nudged Canyon with his elbow. “Real busy.” His eyes gleamed like a kid who longed to spill Christmas secrets.
Canyon toyed with a French fry. “You’ve got this teenager-parenting thing down, don’t you, Kristina?”
“What do you mean?”
Canyon laughed. “As long as you feed them, they stay relatively manageable.”
Her mouth curved. He lost himself for a second in her china-blue eyes. Dazed, he stuffed the French fry in his mouth.
“The care and feeding of adolescents.” She sank into the chair opposite him. “Sounds like a self-help book.”
He swallowed. “A self-help book I need to read. You’re the expert at this single-parenting thing. I should take notes.”
She glanced over to Gray, giving Jade an elaborate explanation of the intricacies of high school block scheduling. “On-the-job training.”
Kristina traced the condensation on the plastic cup. “I hope you don’t mind, but after I dropped the flower arrangement off at church, I took Jade to Walmart. She’ll need school supplies for Monday.”
“I didn’t think about that.”
Kristina must think he was the worst parent ever.
“Thanks.” He reached in his pocket. “I need to reimburse you. And for the food, too.”
She waved her hand, a graceful gesture. “Next time your treat. Did you enroll her yet?” Reaching across the table, she touched his arm.
Electric fire sizzled his nerve endings. Just as quickly she retracted her hand. Had she felt the chemistry, too? Or was this attraction only him?
She clutched the chain around her neck. For once it hung outside her plum-colored sweater. And he realized it wasn’t her husband’s wedding ring that dangled.
Worse. His stomach dropped. She wore her dead husband’s dog tags.
Sensing his scrutiny, she let go of the necklace and flushed. “Th-there’s paperwork to complete. I had to do the same thing with Gray a few weeks ago. Otherwise, the first day is such an ordeal.”
A custodial parent only twenty-four hours, and already he was failing Jade dismally. “But with tomorrow being Sunday...”
“No problem.” Gray slurped his milk shake. “The school principal attends our church. I’m sure Mrs. Savage could bring the papers with her tomorrow and expedite the process.”
Jade’s eyebrow, the pierced one, rose. “Expedite?”
Gray buried his face in the cup.
Her quota of niceness depleted for the day? Canyon grimaced. A person could get whiplash from these adolescent mood swings.
Canyon shot Jade a warning glance. “I wouldn’t want to bother Mrs. Savage when she’s off duty.”
Jade snickered.
Heat rode above his collar. “I mean when she’s not at work.”
Kristina smiled. “You can take the man out of the military, but you can’t take the military out of the man.”
She folded the paper napkin. “Mrs. Savage wouldn’t mind. I’ll call her. Neighbors being—”
“Neighborly?”
He wasn’t sure the rest of Kiptohanock would feel that way about him and Jade. Once the principal discovered the new student was a Collier, she probably wouldn’t be as accommodating.
Savage was an old Shore name. And seasiders had long memories. But then again, so did he.
Jade twirled the straw in her drink. “Kristina says the overnight temperature inside the church will be perfect. The blooms will be fully open by morning.”
Kristina sat with her elbow propped on the table, her chin nestled in her hand. A fond smile on her face, she listened to Jade describe the arrangement they’d put together.
“Don’t you want to see it, Uncle Canyon?”
His attention snapped from his contemplation of Kristina to his niece.
“Don’t you want to see what I did?”
Green eyes bored into his. He was forcibly reminded of the last time he’d seen Jade ten years ago. The little six-year-old—with eyes too enormous for her face—waving as he rode away from the tenement she lived in with her mother.
“Sure, we’ll go,” he said, his voice gruff.
Gray punched the air and whooped. Jade’s eyes glistened. Kristina stood to clear the table.
Canyon rose, too. He might be a reprobate, but Hap had trained him to be a gentleman.
Kristina pushed her chair under the table. “Time to go, Gray.” She deposited the plates into the trash bin.
“We can’t go yet, Mom. Canyon has a surprise for Jade.”
Canyon shook his head. “If your mother needs you to go...”
Jade bounced up, abandoning nonchalance. “A surprise? For me? Where?”
Gray grinned. “This way.”
Jade’s eyes ping-ponged from Gray to Canyon. “In the office?”
“Come see,” Gray called, already in the hallway. Needing no further encouragement, Jade headed out.
Canyon waited for Kristina. “Ladies first.”
Her beautiful eyes clouded, Kristina ducked her head as she passed him on the threshold.
Gray stood poised at the closed door. “Ready, Canyon?”
He nodded, and with a flourish Gray threw open the door.
Wit
h the timidity of a child who’d long ago decided most surprises were bad, Jade stepped inside. Temples pounding, Canyon hung back.
Her eyes had gone wide. Her lips parted, but no sound emerged.
Canyon crossed his arms. This had been a bad idea. What did a guy like him know about what pleased a teenage girl?
Jade moved beside the bed and fingered the green-and-white tree of life quilt.
“Do you like it? Green like your eyes.” Gray practically bobbed in his sneakers. “Canyon had his grandma’s stuff stored in the loft. We moved out his office furniture, set up the bed—”
“I didn’t know your favorite colors.” Canyon propped against the wall. “We can change the bedspread. Buy a new one. Paint the walls whatever you want.”
Jade wouldn’t look at him. He scrubbed his hand across the back of his neck. This had been a bad idea.
Her gaze remained locked on the quilt. “I love it. Was this one of your grandmother’s quilts?”
Canyon’s pulse quieted. “Eileen Collier was your great-grandmother. These things were hers.” He motioned from the walnut vanity dresser to the inlaid shell jewelry box. “But if you don’t like hand-me-downs...”
Jade shook her head so hard the magenta feather strung in her hair fluttered. “I like old things.” She sank onto the mattress. “Lived-with, loved-in stuff.”
She ran her hand over the tree pattern appliquéd onto the solid white covering. “I love family things. This is perfect, Uncle Canyon.”
A lump lodged in his throat.
Kristina squeezed his arm. “Well done,” she whispered.
At last, maybe he’d done one thing right. “First hurdle in single parenting passed?”
“With flying colors.”
He sighed, savoring one small victory. Tomorrow would bring further obstacles. Who was he kidding? He’d probably fall flat on his face within the hour.
“Maybe single parents like us ought to team up?”
He turned so quickly at her pensive words, he felt a crick in his neck. “What?”
She bit her lip. “Combine skill sets. Conserve our resources. Divide and conquer.”
His heart hammered. What was she suggesting?
“The care and feeding of adolescents, remember? We can help each other.” She blushed. “You’re helping me with my fear of flying. I can help you with your fear of parenting.”
When he didn’t say anything—he wasn’t sure what he ought to say—she fiddled with the hem of her sweater. “Gray told me most of your dusting takes place in the early morning. I could do morning carpool, and you could do afternoon pickup.”
“Share the load?”
“Exactly. Besides, Gray is hungry for a positive male influence in his life.”
Canyon wasn’t sure he qualified for that title. On the other hand, did he need a reason to justify wanting to spend more time with the intriguing widow? If he did, she’d offered him one on a silver platter.
Only a fool would refuse such an opportunity. And no matter what else his mother had done, she’d not raised him to be a fool. Beech, yes. Him, not so much.
“That sounds like an offer I can’t afford to refuse.”
A smile touched her lips and reached her eyes. She started to extend her hand, perhaps reconsidered, and dropped it. After that last sizzling contact at the table, Canyon wasn’t sure whether he should feel sorry or relieved.
“Friends?”
Canyon tucked his hands into his folded arms. “Friends.”
For his part, could he keep their relationship friends only? And with dismay, he reflected that his mother might have raised more than one foolish son after all.
Chapter Six
Shutting off the buzzing alarm clock on Sunday morning, Canyon reasoned if Jade proved reluctant to get out of bed—didn’t kids need their sleep?—he wouldn’t push the church thing.
But when his bare feet hit the cold wooden floor, his nose alerted him to the aroma of eggs. Lumbering down the hall, he discovered Jade stirring eggs in a skillet.
With an uncertain look, she glanced at him. “I made you some coffee.”
His gaze shot to the percolating coffeemaker. “You didn’t have to—” He cleared his raspy voice and tried again. “I’m used to just cereal...”
Spatula in hand, she frowned. “I didn’t think about you not liking eggs.”
For warmth, Canyon tucked his hands in the armpits of his T-shirt. “I like eggs. Where did you learn to cook eggs?”
“I watched Kristina yesterday.” Jade shoveled three-quarters of the eggs onto his grandma’s Corelle plate. “We need a good breakfast before church.”
He jolted as a piece of bread popped from the toaster.
She snickered. “Nervous much, Uncle Canyon?”
He poured a cup of coffee and sat down at the table to nurse it.
She set the plate of steaming scrambled eggs in front of him. “Real question is—are you nervous because I mentioned Kristina or because I mentioned church?”
He wrapped his hands around the mug and ignored her.
She laughed. “No comment, huh?”
He shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth. “I’m eating.”
“I saw your reaction when she touched your hand yesterday.”
Canyon darted a glance at Jade, chewed and swallowed. This one didn’t miss much. Good to know. Best to keep that in mind for future reference.
“I don’t own a suit or tie.”
Sitting across from him, she gave him an amused smile. “Gray says that church is casual. You have a pair of khakis and a button-down shirt in your closet.” She fluttered her lashes. “I checked.”
Of course she had. He grimaced. He hadn’t darkened the Kiptohanock church since his grandmother’s funeral.
He wondered if he’d be welcome. Kristina seemed to think so. He wasn’t so sure.
Jade didn’t seem worried. She hustled him through breakfast and started to clean the kitchen.
He took the dishcloth out of her hand. “You don’t have to wait on me, Jade. It’s my job to take care of you.”
Jade’s lips—an interesting eggplant color today—tightened at the word job.
She crossed her arms over her sweater. The color of the sweater and the lipstick coordinated with the magenta streak in her hair. And she’d accessorized with an amethyst stud in one earlobe.
Jade’s version of church appropriate. At least the sweater covered her midriff.
“How about we take care of each other, Canyon? Share the housekeeping?”
Miss Independent. He couldn’t fault her. He was the same way. Maybe one of the better Collier traits.
“Deal.”
When he finished the quick kitchen cleanup, he discovered the aforementioned trousers and shirt lying across his bed.
“Don’t make us late, Canyon,” she yelled.
Five minutes later, she hurried him out the door. “We don’t want to be those people who arrive after the service has started. Everyone turns around and stares. Gray warned me that latecomers have to sit at the front.”
Canyon let the engine idle. “No, we definitely don’t want to be those people.”
He drove to Kiptohanock. Parking, he took a deep breath as they got out of the Jeep.
Jade clutched him as they walked toward the church. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, Canyon. We can go home if you want.”
But Gray waited for them on the church steps. And before Canyon could hit the proverbial brakes, they were escorted into the sanctuary. Immediately, his internal radar located Kristina as she chatted in the aisle with her sister-in-law, Caroline.
Jade heaved a sigh as Gray herded them toward—yes—the front. And Gray believed it to be his mission to introduce them to every c
hurchgoer.
Most of whom Canyon already had a nodding acquaintance with from his youth. Everyone was surprisingly cordial. Not the condemnation he’d feared.
But Kristina’s brother, Weston, gave him a wary look. “I checked your service record, Collier. I’ve still got friends in high Coastie places. Heard about your commendation.”
Canyon’s gut twisted. “I never asked for that.” His gaze cut left, then right, hoping no one else had heard.
“You earned it. Otherwise I wouldn’t let you within ten feet of my sister and nephew.” He shook Canyon’s hand. Hard. “But don’t think for a moment I won’t be standing watch.”
Canyon got the message. Hurt his family and Canyon would deal with Weston Clark.
Which Canyon totally understood. He took a long look at the teenage boys clustering around newcomer Jade. He’d feel the same way about her.
Then a friendlier face appeared. Sawyer and his wife, Honey. Canyon made appropriate noises of admiration over their baby, Daisy, who really was cute. But kids, on the whole, scared Canyon. Kristina joined them.
Which produced a terror of a different kind in Canyon’s rapidly beating heart.
Seth Duer, the patriarch of the Duer clan, eyed him for a moment before shaking his hand. “I knew your mother, Amber, a long time ago. Never had the privilege of meeting your dad.”
Canyon shrugged. “You and me both.”
Kristina gave him a startled look.
He was so not the poster child for family of the year. “Amber wasn’t one to stick around any place too long. A real wild child.”
The older man’s bristly mustache curved. “I ’spect that’s the truth of it. Even as a girl, your mother was always the free spirit.”
Canyon rolled his tongue in his cheek. “She still is. Or last I heard. A rolling stone.”
Earning an appreciative chuckle from the aging waterman. “I hear you, son.” Seth clamped a firm hand on Canyon’s shoulder. “May I call you son?”
Canyon’s throat thickened. “First time for everything, huh?” He reddened under Kristina’s searching gaze.
Seth’s blue-green eyes studied him. “Sawyer tells me you’re good people. And if Sawyer says you’re okay, you’re okay. We should get together at the Sandpiper over Long Johns soon.”
