by Lenora Worth
“I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t believe you’d be good there.”
Kellie informed him of the time and date. “Got any tips?”
John laughed. “Just be yourself and let your passion show through.”
Again, Kellie nodded but her conscience scratched like sandpaper. Her mouth went dry and she took a deep breath. “There’s something you should probably know.”
John lifted one eyebrow. “Have a seat.”
Kellie would rather stand, but knew it was best to follow directions. “You know that my sister-in-law is having a house built for her by the Church Hammers organization.”
“A good cause.”
“I help out as much as I can, and—” Kellie stopped to double check the small voice that had prompted her to confess. Yup, still there making her heart clamor and her palms sweat. “One of your clients also volunteers to meet his community service requirements.”
“I see.” John leaned back to cross his legs. “Shouldn’t be an issue. You don’t have anything to do with my groups.”
Kellie swallowed. She really needed a drink of water. “No. But I did his court-ordered assessment for Ginny.”
“Hmm.”
Kellie clenched her fists at her sides and waited out her boss.
He narrowed his gaze. “That would be Ryan. Does he bother you?”
Kellie almost let loose a nervous laugh. Bother her? The question should be more like on what level. “He’s got construction skills, so he’s sort of in charge.”
“You can’t skip out on your obligation to your sister-in-law.”
“No.”
“And obviously Ryan’s needed so it wouldn’t be right to advise him to switch services.”
“No.” Kellie held her breath.
“Could be a real pickle, Kellie.” His gaze pierced her. “But I trust that you will maintain a professional distance while you’re here at LightHouse.”
Could she? She had to. “Yes, sir.”
John lifted his chin with a quick jerk signaling he was satisfied and the conversation was over.
“Thanks, John.” Kellie resisted the urge to bolt from his office.
Before she made it out the door, John asked, “Kellie?”
She turned. “Yeah?”
“Thank you for telling me.” His expression was hard to read.
“You’re welcome.”
Kellie’s breathing returned to normal by the time she made it back to her office to grab her things. John was good at reading between the lines. And the lines between her and Ryan had grown pretty blurry. Would she regret telling her boss once he talked to Ginny? Ginny knew she was attracted to Ryan. Then what?
Lord, You pushed me to tell, so the rest is up to You.
She’d trust God’s prompting on this one, but it was up to her to keep her feelings for Ryan firmly in check. She needed someone to hold her accountable because she didn’t trust her heart. She avoided getting involved in relationships because her need for affection had led her astray before.
Ryan’s interest had sparked a yearning she shouldn’t have. Not now, not when he was going through his own issues and she still interned. By telling her boss the situation, she’d risked that internship. Exactly what she needed to stay in control.
* * *
Ryan arrived at Dorrie’s construction site early, before anyone else. Good thing he had a key. Stepping inside, he looked around. There was so much yet to do. Could they get it done in time? A knock on the door brought him out of his thoughts. “It’s open.”
“Ryan?” The voice belonged to his brother.
“I’m in here.”
Sinclair walked into the framed and insulated living room accompanied by two teenaged boys. After quick introductions, he said, “Hope sends her regrets. She’s got a meeting in Traverse City about grant-writing. Put us to work.”
Ryan rubbed his hands together. “Let’s get tools and supplies from the trailer outside and we’ll get started hanging drywall.”
Ryan smiled as they traipsed across the gravel driveway to the construction trailer. Three more was better than none. He appreciated his brother’s quick response to his request for help yesterday at church.
In no time, the four of them got to work while other volunteers arrived. Each time the door opened, Ryan expected to see Kellie. A kernel of disappointment popped each time she didn’t show.
“Looking for someone?” Sinclair’s eyebrows rose over the dark rim of his glasses.
Busted. Ryan shrugged.
“We like her.”
He didn’t want to talk about Kellie in the middle of hanging drywall with a couple of kids nearby, but he took the bait anyway. “Yeah?”
Sinclair nodded. “She sat with us during potluck. I couldn’t get a word in between her and Hope.”
“She could probably use a friend like Hope.”
“Why’s that?”
Again, Ryan shrugged. He didn’t know why he’d said it. For all he knew, Kellie might have a ton of friends and a full social calendar. But he didn’t think so. She seemed so alone, with no one to call that night her car broke down.
“Pastor Marsh!” Gracie ran into the room and threw her arms around the back of Sinclair’s legs.
“Hey, Gracie.” His brother laughed, but Ryan could tell Sinclair held the drywall burden tighter.
“Gracie! Get back, that’s heavy.” Dorrie scolded her daughter.
“Sorry.” The seven-year-old stepped away.
Ryan turned his head as he held the drywall for one of the teenagers to drill into place. He felt his heart pump a little faster when he spotted Kellie standing in the doorway.
“Hey.” His gaze held hers.
“Hello.” She quickly looked away from him to Sinclair. “Yay, we have more help. Thanks for bringing reinforcements.”
“You’re welcome.” His brother then introduced the teens.
“You guys are doing a great job.” With that, Kellie followed Dorrie into the dining room to help lay flooring while Ryan and his crew continued with their dusty job.
By the time dinner rolled around, the church ladies who usually brought the food decided it was warm enough to grill hot dogs outside on the deck. The wonderful smell of grilled food made its way in through the open windows and Ryan’s stomach growled. The teenagers wasted no time bolting out the kitchen’s door.
Before joining the group in the backyard, Ryan surveyed the living room. Not bad. The drywall that hung in place needed taping, mud and then eventually preparation for paint. A couple of more rooms required drywall, but Ryan couldn’t expect his brother to give up every night this week to finish it.
Sinclair clamped a hand on his shoulder. “Looks good.”
“Yeah, it does.”
“How often are you here?”
“Every night.”
Sinclair’s eyebrows rose.
“What have I got to go home to?” Ryan couldn’t keep that edge of bitterness out of his voice.
His brother’s shoulders slumped. “Come on, let’s go eat.”
Ryan stalled him, regretting what he’d said. “Thanks for coming tonight.”
Sinclair nodded. “I’ll be back. Hopefully, with more help.”
Ryan looked into this brother’s eyes. There was so much more to be said. They both carried a load of guilt, but Sinclair had lightened his since coming home. How?
“Look, Sin—”
“You guys coming? The hot dogs are going fast,” Dorrie hollered from the kitchen.
“We’ll be right there.” Ryan should let it go. Now wasn’t the time to finally talk about the accident and the last three years. Besides, Ryan didn’t know where to begin or how to say what needed to be said.
Sinclair
gave him a nod. “It’s okay, man. I get it.”
Ryan looked at his brother. “It’s not okay.”
“We’ll work it out, but right now there are dogs to be had.”
Ryan laughed and followed his brother out into the sunshine. Sinclair understood and for now, that’s all Ryan needed.
* * *
Kellie entered LeNaro Elementary with a skip to her step. The weather had turned warm and sunny. She’d squeeze in a quick bike ride after school, before heading over to Dorrie’s. The day was too beautiful to waste all of it indoors.
Sailing through the hallway toward the second-grade classroom, Kellie gave herself a mental pat on the back. She’d done well in keeping an appropriate distance from Ryan last night while working on the house. They’d chatted comfortably at dinner, and that was pretty much it. No long-drawn-out looks or near-physical touches. She was back in control and that felt good.
“Morning, Kellie.” Beth Ryken’s smile was brighter than sunshine. “Perfect day for our field trip, isn’t it?”
Kellie halted her steps. “Uh, field trip? Where to?”
“You forgot, didn’t you?”
Kellie scrunched her nose as she recalled something about handing out permission slips weeks ago. “Sorry, I guess I did. Hayride, right?”
Beth shook her head. “The bus will be here shortly, so if you’ll make sure every student has their jacket, that’d be great.”
Kellie didn’t bother to point out that they’d probably not need jackets today. It was already warm, and the weatherman promised the temperatures would climb to eighty degrees. Instead, she got to work organizing the noisy second graders into a straight line.
At least she’d get her wish to enjoy part of the day outside. October’s final weather luxury before autumn slipped into winter didn’t usually last long. Sometimes they’d get a whole week of the fickle warmth, sometimes only a couple of days. Either way, Kellie planned to enjoy it, even if that meant sharing a smelly hayride with two classrooms of kids.
Once loaded on the bus along with the other second-grade class and their teacher and two chaperoning moms, Kellie settled into a seat next to Gracie.
Gracie grinned up at her, missing both front teeth. “Do you like hayrides, Aunt Kellie?”
“Sure, I do.”
Eons ago, her parents had taken her and her brother to a cider mill. Kellie had loved the bouncy wagon ride around the empty apple orchard, while Karl had acted bored. He’d been only twelve at the time, but he’d had an acid tongue. Her parents had ignored his sarcastic remarks, and even then Kellie had wondered why they let her brother get away with his bad behavior. Her parents had ignored them both too much. Family time had become one of those fewer and further between events, oftentimes squeezed in as if it were one more thing on her parents’ to do list. Kellie despised being another duty.
The drive was lovely despite the bareness of the trees. A few hardwoods still blazed with patches of brilliant-colored leaves, but most of the fall foliage lay on the ground. When they finally pulled into a parking lot, Kellie frowned.
“What’s the matter?” Beth asked.
Her stomach tightened as she read the sign of the horticulture research station. “They have hayrides here?”
Beth laughed. “We come every year in the fall because they’re too busy in the spring. I happen to know the farm manager, and he’s great with the kids.”
Kellie nodded. Control slipped away with every hammer of her pulse. Ryan Marsh worked at a horticultural research center. Surely, this was the only one in Leelanau County. And Beth knew him.
While Beth gave the kids instructions to remain seated until after the bus had stopped, Kellie stared out the window. Like watching the proverbial train wreck, she couldn’t look away from Ryan as he approached the bus. Tall and handsome as ever, he strode toward them with a pleasant smile.
Was there no escaping this man?
Gracie pulled on her sleeve. “Aunt Kellie, look, it’s Ryan.”
“I see that.”
After the bus parked, kids stood and then inched their way out. The excited noise of chatter numbed Kellie’s brain as she watched teachers and chaperones corral the students forward until they trickled down the bus steps to pool into the parking lot like a line of ants swarming a picnic basket. Kellie waited for the end of the line. She’d been charged with the job of inspecting an empty bus to ensure no one had been left behind.
Peering out the window again, Kellie watched Gracie run straight to Ryan for a hug. What was it about the Marsh men that made Gracie so affectionate? First Sinclair, and now Ryan. Gracie seemed too needy for male attention. Gracie’s only constant male influence in her life was her grandfather, Kellie’s dad. Wasn’t enough though as her nieces didn’t visit that often. It hadn’t been enough for Kellie, and she’d seen her father nearly every day, but only minutes some days.
Ryan scooped the girl up without hesitation or fanfare. Settling Gracie on his hip, he looked surprised when Kellie stepped off the bus. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m a teacher’s aide twice a week for these classes.”
He gave her a broad smile. “They’re fortunate kids.”
Before Kellie could still the cartwheels going on inside her stomach, Beth sidled over to them. “You two know each other?”
Kellie nodded.
“She did my assessment,” Ryan said.
Kellie gave him a sharp look.
“Beth is a good friend of my sister’s. She knows.” Ryan set Gracie back on her feet.
“He works at our house,” Gracie piped up with a proud grin.
“Wow. Small world.” But Beth’s gaze narrowed in on her.
Kellie ignored the uncomfortable feeling of being analyzed, but she didn’t miss the spark of disappointment in Beth’s eyes. Was Beth interested in Ryan? Then again, who wouldn’t be?
Kellie glanced at Ryan as he stepped back to address their group. “Way too small, sometimes.”
Beth laughed. “Troublesome isn’t he?”
“Yeah, he is.”
Beth patted her arm. “Don’t worry. He’s one of the good ones. A definite keeper.”
Kellie’s gut lurched at the implication. “It’s not like that.”
Beth looked far from convinced.
“It can’t be.”
“Why?”
Kellie’s reasons scattered like the leaves as she looked at Ryan. He stood near a huge tractor that had two long wagons attached with bench seats and bales of hay stacked in the corners for effect. Something about his open demeanor while talking to a group of kids made her excuses seem insignificant. He was a good man. A dependable man.
“My name’s Ryan, and I’m your tour guide today. During the ride, we’ve got one important rule. Can anyone guess what it is?”
“I know, I know,” several seven-year-olds chorused while they jumped up and down with raised hands.
Ryan picked one of the boys to answer.
“No hitting?”
Ryan chuckled. “That goes without saying. Good answer, but the big rule is that you must remain seated at all times with your hands and feet inside the wagon. Anyone stands up, we all come back. Everyone got that?”
Kellie noticed the kids’ eyes widen as they agreed to the directions Ryan had given with a stern voice. She wondered if Ryan would actually follow through and cut the ride short if anyone stood. Her gut instinct told her he would. So far, he’d proved to be a man of his word.
“Everyone load up.”
She leaned toward Beth. “So what’s the plan here? Hayride then head back to school?”
“Oh no. This is a big deal. After the tractor ride through the orchard, we get a tour of the facility and end with pizza for lunch.”
That meant they were here for
a while. Kellie looked around as she waited for the kids to climb up into the wagon. Ryan stood nearby in case anyone needed help. The research station was situated on a small hill with an awesome view of Grand Traverse Bay’s deep blue water. The orchards had lost their leaves, and the spindly branches stretched toward the sunshine in one last yawn before winter’s hibernation.
When it came time for her to climb into the wagon, Ryan held out his hand. “Watch your step.”
She took it, not wanting to chance a slip on the narrow wagon steps. “Thanks.
“You’re welcome.” Ryan gently squeezed her fingers before he let go.
Kellie found a seat at the end of the bench and caught Beth analyzing her again. “What?”
Beth shook her head but gave her a wide, overly innocent smile. One of those smiles that hinted at putting two and two together to come up with four. “Not a thing.”
Kellie shrugged out of her windbreaker. Squished next to a warm kid who leaned against her, Kellie was glad she’d worn one of the few short-sleeved shirts she owned. Tying the sleeves of her jacket around her waist, she listened as Ryan started the tractor engine with a low growllike gurgle. Smoke billowed overhead carrying the faint smell of motor oil and gasoline. And then the wagon jerked forward and they were off.
“Welcome aboard. Remember to stay seated and keep your arms and legs inside the wagon.” Ryan’s voice boomed over a cheesy sound system as he spoke into the microphone of a headset he’d slipped on.
She watched him steer the humongous tractor with ease out of the parking lot toward the orchard with a clug, chug and purr sound of him shifting gears. The T-shirt he wore stretched taut across his back, and her appreciation for the warm weather hit a new level.
Kellie listened as Ryan explained each orchard they passed through at a snail’s pace. Cherries were the main staple here—both sweet and tart varieties. Some other stone fruit trees, as Ryan called them, lay situated at the back of the fields. They passed quiet beehives and foul-smelling deer repellant sacks hanging in some sections. The kids loved those.
Kellie was amazed that Ryan managed all this. The grounds were extensive, but the orchards looked neat as a pin. Piles of brush had been collected into one large stack in an open field.
