Dani brushed the last of the crumbs from her fingers, then tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Anyone up for a rematch?” AJ glanced at his phone, then frowned. “Though I’m not sure we’ve got time.”
“The girls need their baths before going to the Owenses,” Shelby said, then looked across the table at Dani. “Our neighbors are taking them and their son on an adventure while we’re gone.”
Dani shifted toward Elizabeth. “What kind of adventure?”
“They won’t tell us,” Elizabeth said, her eyes dancing. “It’s a surprise.”
“I love surprises.”
“Me too.”
“How about if we trade places? I’ll go on the adventure and you can go to the banquet.”
Brett cut in before Elizabeth could respond. “Sorry, Bitsy, no trades allowed. And you”—he pointed at Dani—“you’re coming with me.” He jabbed his thumb into his chest.
Elizabeth giggled as Dani pretended to shiver with fear.
Brett leaned close. “What you don’t know,” he said in a stage whisper, “is that our Miss Elizabeth is spending the evening with Master Austin Owens. They’re engaged.”
Elizabeth’s cheeks flushed, though from the glint in her eyes she didn’t mind the teasing. “We’re not really,” she said softly. “Just kind of.”
“I heard he carved your initials on the engagement tree,” Brett teased.
“That’s so he’d remember me if we moved away.”
“Well, it sounds serious to me.”
Dani nudged Elizabeth. “Is he a nice young man?”
“The very nicest.”
“He really is,” Shelby said with a soft laugh. “His dad Jason and I were best friends when we were young. They live just down the road.”
“Jason carved initials on the engagement tree too,” AJ said. He pulled Shelby close and kissed her cheek. “But God had other plans.”
“What’s the engagement tree?” Dani asked.
“It’s a weeping willow that hangs over the creek,” Shelby said. “Not far from where the boats for the Underground Railroad would land. During the Civil War, one of my ancestors fell in love with a Rebel soldier. He was the first one to carve initials into the tree. Since then, it’s been a tradition.” She narrowed her eyes at Elizabeth. “But only for grown-ups,” she said with mock sternness.
“That’s so cool,” Dani said. “It’s like a living family tree.”
“It truly is,” Shelby said. “We don’t have time to go back there this afternoon, but maybe we can another time.”
If there was another time. After Brett dropped her off this evening, Dani doubted she would see him again. She smiled politely. “That’d be nice.”
“Brett, why don’t you show Dani where we found the tunnel?” Shelby asked. “She’s interested in our history project.”
“Great idea.” He caught Dani’s gaze. “Shall we?”
“Sounds fun.”
“I wanna go.” Tabby scurried to Brett’s side and grabbed his arm. “I go too.”
“Nope,” Shelby intervened. “Time to get cleaned up. Go on now. You too, Elizabeth.”
AJ stepped away from the picnic table. “I’ll go with Brett—”
Shelby grabbed his shirt with one hand and shoved the bakery box, now filled with used liners and napkins, into his abdomen. “I need you in the house.”
“Um, okay.” He cradled the box and looked at Brett. “I’m going in the house.”
“See you in a few.” Shelby gave a little wave, then steered AJ away.
Dani willed her body to turn to liquid so she could slide under the picnic table. But nothing happened.
Brett snorted. “Shelby must think she’s Yenta.”
“You know Fiddler on the Roof?”
“’Course I do.” He tapped her arm. “You ready to tour the excavation area?”
“Absolutely. I can’t even imagine how thrilling it would be to have archaeologists digging in my backyard.”
“Don’t get too excited. None of them look like Indiana Jones.”
“Except for Harrison Ford, who does?”
“Is that your type? The romantic adventurer?”
“Maybe.”
“He’s old enough to be your grandfather.” Brett’s playful smile practically took her breath away. “Oh, wait, I forgot. Regina Lampert prefers older men.”
“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”
“Never.”
They sauntered up the graveled drive past the landscaped fencerow. A red wheelbarrow rested among the flowers, reminding Dani of a William Carlos Williams poem. She opened her mouth to mention it when Brett started whistling a tune. It only took a few notes for Dani to recognize “Matchmaker, Matchmaker.”
The familiar words sang in her head, and she unconsciously swayed to the music. When Brett noticed, he placed his arm around her waist and took her hand. The whistling changed to singing as they danced in the sunshine.
His natural affinity eased her nervousness at being in his arms. He guided her through an improvised routine that ended with him on one knee and holding the last note as if serenading her.
“You’re a good dancer.” He stood and brushed dirt off his knee.
“So are you.”
“I had good teachers. First my mom and then Gran. How about you?”
At the mention of his mom, Dani tensed. So far he hadn’t seemed to notice that she hadn’t asked about his parents. Even now, she didn’t dare. That conversation could take her places she didn’t want to go. And once it did . . . She wrapped her arms around her chest and shuddered.
“You okay?”
“Fine. Just a sudden chill.”
“In this heat?”
“I lived in a foster home for a while.” This wasn’t safe territory either, but now the words seemed to tumble out. “The dad there was really nice. He taught me the basics.”
“A foster home,” he repeated almost as if speaking to himself.
“Sometimes my . . . my dad had issues.” Like drowning his sorrow in a bottle, oblivious to his stepdaughter’s painful grief. Like throwing her into the foster care system until his conscience guilted him into sobering up long enough to reclaim her. Ever hopeful the two of them could be a real family, each time she believed his promises. But he never kept them, and the repeating cycle had left her broken.
Brett’s expression darkened. “It’s tough being a kid.”
“Yeah, it is.” Tougher for her than for him, though. True, the same crash that claimed her mom had claimed both his parents. But while she ended up with a stepfather who could barely stomach the sight of her, he had been taken into his grandparents’ lap of luxury. Securely wrapped in wealth and privilege, he had no idea just how tough a childhood could be.
Brett swung open the metal gate separating the house and yard from the rest of the acreage. The graveled drive sloped gently upward, then disappeared into a pasture. About a quarter of the way up, beyond the lanky stalks of the sunflower house, chain link fencing surrounded what had once been the barn’s foundation.
The barn itself had been torn down, but its memories remained. Shelby’s grandfather had been accidentally killed in the barn when she was only a teen, and a couple of months ago her great-uncle suffered a fatal heart attack there. Though Richard Grayson had been related to Shelby, he’d been Sully’s oldest and closest friend—perhaps the old man’s only friend. And he’d been like an uncle to Brett, Amy, and AJ.
His death severed the only connection Brett had to his grandfather and, coming so soon after Gran’s, had left an unexpected vacancy in his life.
Dani stepped through the gate with him, then turned to look at the house. “If I were Shelby, I don’t know if I could give all this up. Does the museum have to be here?”
“It kinda does.” Not that he wanted to get into all the reasons why—the restrictive terms of Sully’s will, the loophole AJ found so Shelby could buy the farm, the lawsuit Amy had filed to
reverse the sale.
He rubbed his neck.
“We’re working to get the house on the National Register of Historic Places. That way, it’ll always be protected.”
“We?”
“I’m on the board for the foundation.”
“One of the reasons you’re being honored tonight, right? Serving on different boards, I mean.”
“Do I detect a hint of cynicism in your voice?”
Dani practically stuttered a denial. Amused by her flustered expression, he brazenly appraised her features. The deep brown eyes a bit too large for her heart-shaped face, the nose a little too small and straight, her slightly crooked mouth. Little imperfections that added up to perfection.
The desire to cradle her chin, to give in to the appeal of her naturally pink lips, surged through him. He pointed to the row of shrubs bordering this side of the fence.
“I planted those,” he bragged while quelling the sensual thoughts that threatened to lure him into trouble he didn’t need. Breaking a young girl’s heart wasn’t on his agenda.
“You did? Dug the hole and everything?”
“AJ helped.” He grinned sheepishly. “Actually, I helped AJ.”
“Manual labor. Who would have thought?” she teased.
“AJ’s always roping me into doing chores around this place. Now the fence is less noticeable from the house. Less of a temptation for the girls.” And less of a visual reminder for Shelby of the tragedies that had occurred there. “The things people do for love, right?”
“You mean AJ and Shelby? They seem to be very happy.”
“They are.”
He rested his hand between her shoulders and slightly propelled her forward as his thoughts reflected on their conversation. Dani had sounded wistful, almost sad, when she talked about AJ and Shelby. Some clod had probably broken her heart. A high school idiot or college twerp. Maybe both. He shifted his eyes her way and was struck anew by her naïve attractiveness.
If Tracie set the bar at ten, Dani scored a seven. Okay, an eight.
But that kind of numerical rating no longer made sense. In less than twenty-four hours, he felt more connected with Dani than he’d ever felt during his weeks with Tracie. There was no pretense with Dani. No need to hide behind his successful businessman façade. She’d be enjoying today even if he were a small-town laborer living paycheck to paycheck.
As long as that laborer was being honored at tonight’s Up-and-Comers Banquet.
They walked past the width of the excavation, but the back of a long equipment shed hid the dig from view. Dani quickened her pace. “This is so exciting. A real dig.”
“I’m not sure there’s that much to see,” Brett said. “The archaeologists have been here doing their thing since the barn was torn down. But it’s a slow process.”
As soon as they rounded the corner to the gated entrance, Dani laced her fingers into the fence’s links and peered inside. Brett chuckled.
“You look like a kid without a ticket to a baseball game.”
“This is a thousand times better.”
“Says the liberal arts major.” He punched numbers into the lock’s keypad, then opened one half of the wide double gate. “Come on in, Sparky.”
The barn’s concrete floor took up most of the enclosed area while the equipment shed stood at one end. Brett led Dani to the other end, where a wooden structure, about six feet square and two feet high, covered one corner of a section of packed dirt.
“This part of the barn’s floor was wood,” Brett explained. “When it was torn up, the contractor found another wooden floor beneath it. That’s when he found the trapdoor into the tunnel. There.” He gestured toward the wooden structure.
“It goes straight down?”
“At least three or four feet. Somebody, probably one of Shelby’s ancestors, must have filled it in. They’re taking out that dirt one slender layer at a time.”
“No one knows where it leads to,” Dani said, more as if she were talking to herself than him. Brett inwardly smiled as she scrutinized the dig, her eyes bright with enthusiasm as she took it all in.
“Not yet. There’s supposed to be a tunnel back by Glade Creek. But it’s doubtful it links up to this one.”
“So they haven’t found the entrance to the other one?”
“Not yet. The tunnel’s entrance was under or near an old hunting cabin. It was torn down years ago, but Shelby’s fairly certain she knows where it was. That’s Phase Three of the project.”
“How many phases are there?”
“For now, just three. You’re standing on Phase One. Phase Two is establishing the house as a museum. We’re working on that now. Then in the third phase, we’ll use the wood from the barn to replicate the hunting cabin. It won’t be the original, but the barn was built using wood from the property, so it will still have significance.”
Dani surveyed the area, her chin slightly lifted, and the late afternoon sun shone on the natural auburn highlights in her honey-brown hair. A radiant glow seemed to surround her, and while Brett scoffed at such an absurdity, he found it impossible to take his eyes off her.
– 15 –
Meghan studied the children’s art projects spread out on the sofa in Jonah’s room. The colorful birthday greetings the youngsters had created for him warmed her heart.
The creaking of the door drew her attention, and a mass of red hair framed the twinkling blue eyes that peered around the corner.
“Okay if I come in?”
“Please do.”
Instead of the usual hospital scrubs, Aaron wore jeans and a buttoned-down shirt. Surprised at his appearance, she chuckled. “You look so different in regular clothes.”
“Thanks.” He grinned broadly, a cheerful glint in his eyes. “I think.”
“I meant it as a compliment,” she said hurriedly. “You just surprised me, that’s all. It’s early for your shift, isn’t it?”
“I’m not working tonight.” He held out a wrapped box. “This is for Jonah. I hope you don’t mind that I got him something for his birthday.”
“That’s very kind, Aaron. But you really shouldn’t have.”
He pushed it toward her, his expression hopeful. “Go ahead. Open it.”
Meghan untied the slender gold ribbon and removed the tape from the thick blue paper. She smiled at him, then opened the box. Inside was a plush bright blue robe with matching slippers. Her thoughts scrambled, and the fear that plucked her heart must have shone on her face because Aaron’s voice was apologetic when he spoke.
“I know he can’t use them now. But he will.”
She ran her hand across the downy soft fabric. “It’s a generous gift.”
“Do you like it?”
“I love it. And Jonah will too.”
If he ever wakes up.
The unspoken words hung between them. Aaron started to touch her arm, then let his hand drop to his side. Meghan inwardly smiled at his shy awkwardness. On an impulse, she kissed his cheek.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
His face burned almost as red as his hair. “He’s going to be okay, Meghan. It may take a while, but he’ll wake up.”
“I wish I had your confidence.”
“Never give up hope.”
“Sometimes that’s hard.”
“Would it help to know I’m hoping too?”
“Yes. I think it would.”
Aaron self-consciously cleared his throat, then gestured at the art projects. “What’s all this?”
“Birthday greetings from some of the other children here. I want to make a collage to hang on the wall.”
“Great idea.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Has it been a good day for you? I mean, given the circumstances, have you celebrated?”
Meghan bit her lip as she considered his question. It wasn’t how she ever envisioned spending any of Jonah’s birthdays. And she prayed that next year . . . But planning that far ahead was too frightening.
; This was the only day she could be sure of.
She fingered the necklace Shelby had given her and glanced at the gifts on the table.
“Yes,” she said decidedly. “A friend stopped by with presents. Her daughters made this book.” She handed it to Aaron, then reached for the monkey. “This was here when I arrived this morning. I’m pretty sure I know who it’s from, but I don’t know who he bribed to deliver it.”
Aaron’s cheeks flamed, and Meghan’s eyes grew large. “Is this from you too?”
“No.” The sharp denial rushed out. “No, it’s not.”
“I didn’t think so. But you know how it got here, don’t you?”
“What makes you think that?”
“Your face.” Meghan’s growing suspicion tempted her to anger, but Aaron’s shocked expression struck her funny bone. “Who’s it from, Aaron?” The question didn’t come out nearly as harsh as she wanted it to.
Aaron squirmed. “Who do you think it’s from?”
“Aaron, please.”
“I promised not to tell.”
Meghan crossed her arms. She liked Aaron, she really did. His eyes and his smile exuded kindness, and when he examined Jonah, his motions were tender and compassionate. But she couldn’t help feeling betrayed.
“How long have you known Brett?” she said.
“Since we were kids.”
“So you’ve been spying on me. On Jonah and me.”
“It’s not like that. Okay, it was a little like that, but not really.”
The stricken expression on his face pulled at Meghan’s heart. With his unruly hair and smattering of freckles, he reminded her of a little kid who was in a whole heap of trouble but desperately wanted to make amends.
“I don’t understand, Aaron. How could you?”
“I didn’t know at first. About Jonah being Brett’s son, I mean.”
“He told you?”
Aaron nodded. “He’s worried about Jonah. About you.”
“Brett Somers doesn’t worry about anyone but himself.”
“He likes people to think that. But it’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?”
When Love Arrives Page 10
