“In, Suzy.” He grabbed her elbow and propelled her up the steps. He opened the front door and discovered Anna-Grace standing on the other side of the threshold in the dark foyer.
The girl backed up, her cheeks blooming with bold pink. “I—I heard someone talking, and I came to see if some unexpected guests had arrived at the B and B.”
Suzy eased free of Paul’s grasp. “It’s just us.”
She shot an inquisitive look from one to the other, settling her gaze on Suzy. “Did you enjoy your evening?”
Paul stepped inside and pulled the storm door closed to block the cold air. “Yeah. Yeah, we…did.” He hated how tongue-tied he got around Anna-Grace. How could he relax around the child who didn’t know she belonged to him?
Suzy began unbuttoning her coat. “How was your evening, Anna-Grace?”
The girl’s smile quavered. She wasn’t completely comfortable, either. He hated that, too. “Quiet. Aunt Abigail and her night nurse have been playing Scrabble. Steven was going to come over, but he said the English essays were taking longer to grade than he expected, so he cancelled.”
Impishness glinted in her Zimmerman-blue eyes. “Maybe if you go to Wichita next Saturday, I’ll go along, too, and keep Danny company. Or he could stay here with me. That is”—she glanced from Paul to Suzy and back to Paul—“if you have plans to take Cousin Suzy out another time.”
Paul smiled—a quick, wavering upturn of his lips. “We’ll see. Good night, Suzy. Thanks again for spending time with Danny.” Without waiting for her to reply, he scooted out of the house. Not until he pulled into Arborville did he remember Suzy had wanted to tell him something and he’d escaped before she said it. He turned onto the gravel driveway of his house and killed the engine. Then he sat for a moment, his tight fists gripping the steering wheel and his gaze aimed unseeingly ahead as he tried to imagine what she’d intended to say.
Danny bumped his elbow. “Dad? Aren’t we gettin’ out?”
“Oh. Yeah.” Paul trailed Danny across the dark yard to the house. To discover what she wanted him to know, he’d have to spend some one-on-one time with her. His pulse stuttered. But then again maybe he shouldn’t. No sense in stirring up the fellowship.
Indianapolis
Cynthia
Cynthia entered the bedroom and found Glenn reclining on all four bed pillows, watching a news station on their tiny, secondhand television. He picked up the remote control from the nightstand and punched a button. The volume dropped by several decibels.
She crossed to their shared dresser. “You don’t have to turn it down on my account.”
Glenn bounced the remote against his thigh. “Thought you might want to…talk.”
She yanked open the middle drawer and rummaged for a pair of pajamas. Her oldest ones, faded and stretched out from her pregnancy belly. Ratty looking. She rarely wore them anymore, but tonight they would give a signal that she wasn’t in the mood for any romancing. Pajamas clutched against her front, she faced Glenn. “I didn’t think you wanted to talk. After all, you took off and didn’t come back.” Oh, how she wanted to tell him what Mr. Mallory had said, but not unless he asked.
His expression hardened. “I was trying to talk to you, but you weren’t paying attention.”
Seriously? She plunked her fist on her hip. “Glenn, my phone rang!” Would he ask now about her call from the PI?
“That’s what I mean—you weren’t paying attention.”
With a huff she whirled and stormed up the short hallway to the bathroom. The door was closed, so she banged on the doorjamb. “Who’s in there?”
“It’s me, Mom.” Darcy. Probably playing with her hair in front of the big mirror. If she didn’t attend cosmetology school when she graduated from high school, Cynthia would be shocked.
“Hurry up, please.”
“Okay. Just gimme a sec.”
Cynthia waited, her body tense, and listened to a series of dull thuds and bumps that spoke of items being dropped into drawers. Then silence fell but the door didn’t open. She leaned close. “Darcy?”
“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Finally the bathroom door swung inward, and Darcy stood framed in the opening, a wide grin on her face. She held her open hands beside her cheeks like a pair of sunbursts. “I wanted to fluff it more before I showed you. What’cha think?”
Cynthia flicked a glance over the curls cascading from the ponytail situated on the top of her daughter’s head. “I think you spend too much time in front of the mirror.”
Darcy’s smile faded. She lowered her hands. “You don’t like it? I was gonna wear it this way to Band Blast.”
“It’s fine. Now please move out of the way so I can get in there.”
Darcy’s gaze dropped to the pajamas wadded in Cynthia’s hands. “You’re changing in here?”
Heat exploded in Cynthia’s face. Darcy was old enough to understand the subtle meaning behind her mother choosing not to change clothes in front of her father. Embarrassment brought a rush of defensiveness. “That’s none of your business, Darcy. Now scoot.”
Darcy inched around Cynthia, both hurt and anger glimmering in her eyes. She stomped down the hallway. “Why is everybody so grouchy around here?”
“Be respectful, young lady,” Glenn warned from the bedroom.
Darcy slammed her door.
Cynthia did the same with the bathroom door. Then she dropped the pajamas onto the counter and sank down on the edge of the tub. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and gave a start. A deep V pinched between her eyebrows, and the corners of her lips pulled downward. Stress, anger, and so much sadness was etched into her features. Tears pooled in her eyes, making her reflection waver.
She stared at her wide, watery eyes and whispered the news she longed to tell Glenn. “Mr. Mallory found out the Zimmermans have a bed-and-breakfast in Arborville, and a woman named Suzanne Zimmerman answered the phone when he called. So he decided it would be best for him to continue his investigation in Arborville. He’s heading there on Monday. He said he won’t even charge for the travel hours because he’s going there to satisfy his curiosity as much as to find information about my daughter. And he said we could work out the financial details later if his services exceed our deposit. Isn’t it wonderful? I’m so happy.”
One tear slipped free of her lashes and spilled down her cheek. But she knew very well it wasn’t a tear of joy.
Arborville
Suzanne
“Suzy, you know what the Bible says about the Sabbath. You’re meant to rest, not work.”
Suzanne cringed. Couldn’t Mother have waited until they were home to reprimand her? Why bring it up in Shelley’s dining room, where the entire family had gathered for Sunday lunch? Fortunately, Shelley had set up a table in the kitchen for the children, and Anna-Grace and her broad-shouldered, blond-haired beau had volunteered to supervise the group of rowdy youngsters. So she was spared their witnessing her mother scold her like a misbehaving child.
She set aside her fork and aimed an apologetic look across the table at her mother. She honored the fourth commandment whenever she could, but sometimes life interfered. This was one of those times. She hoped her sisters, brother, and their spouses would understand and not take offense. “I have to get the 2 Corinthians 9:8 room ready for the guest checking in tomorrow. I’d do it tomorrow morning if I didn’t have six dozen cookies to bake then.” Keeping up with Alexa’s baking orders might be her ruination. If Anna-Grace weren’t so willing to help, Suzanne would tell the customers to find someone else to bake for them until Alexa returned.
Shelley frowned. “Did Mother say he’s coming from Indiana?”
Suzanne used her fork to rearrange the lima beans on her plate. Shelley served lima beans more often than anyone else she knew. “That’s right.”
“Is he bringing his wife?”
Considering the way he’d laughed when she asked if his wife was accompanying him, she assumed he was divorced. Divorce was as alien as out-of-wedlock pregnancies i
n Arborville. “Um, no. He said he’s coming alone.”
Clete’s wife, Tanya, looked up with interest. “Is he someone you know, Suzy?”
Suzanne recognized the glint in her sister-in-law’s eyes. If Shelley was the most structured of their family and Sandra the sunniest, then they’d have to brand Tanya the most romantic. She consistently tried to steer Suzanne toward one of the single men in the area. But Suzanne wasn’t interested. Except in one. And she couldn’t possibly pursue that one. She laughed lightly. “I lived in Franklin. He’s from Indianapolis.”
“So?”
“Indianapolis is a very large city. Think two and half Wichitas.”
Tanya’s brown eyes grew round. “Oh, my…”
“Exactly. So no, I’ve never met this man before.”
Clete pushed his empty plate aside and folded his arms on the edge of the table. “What brings a man from Indianapolis to Arborville?”
Suzanne shrugged. “When I asked, he said ‘business,’ but he didn’t expound on it, and I didn’t push the subject.”
“Strange…” Clete puckered his forehead.
Sandra’s husband, Derek, shot a worried scowl at Clete. “You don’t think he’s one of those big-city fellows who try to buy up land to build cookie-cutter houses or cheap apartment buildings, do you? All the farmland around here would seem awfully tempting to someone like that.”
Tanya turned to Clete, too. “We don’t want cheap apartments in Arborville.”
Clete shook his head. “The people around here wouldn’t sell to somebody they didn’t know. If he even tried, he wouldn’t get very far. I don’t think we need to worry about that.” He quirked his eyebrow and fixed Suzanne with an unsmiling gaze. “I’m not too keen on having some big-city single man staying in the house out there with you, Mother, and Anna-Grace.”
Sandra chided, “Now, Clete, they’ve already had a single man staying out there. Remember? The Chicago reporter who was here last fall. That worked out all right.”
“But he stayed in the summer kitchen, not in the house. Suzy’s putting him in the house. And Anna-Grace is there, too, on the same floor. That just don’t seem right to me.”
Suzanne reached over and squeezed Clete’s arm. Although she thought his fears unfounded, she appreciated his concern. “Alexa put sturdy locks on all the bedroom doors, and Mother’s nurse stays awake all night. If this man attempts any shenanigans, Marjorie will take care of him. She’s a no-nonsense kind of person.”
“That’s true.” Sandra nodded, her expression innocent. “Marjorie Wells went running across the yard with a frying pan when she thought Briley Forrester might be bothering Alexa.”
Shelley dropped her fork and gawked at Sandra. “Are you serious?”
“Mm-hm. Alexa told me about it. As Suzy said, the nurse will make him toe the line.”
Shelley shifted her aghast gaze to Suzanne. “What kind of a place are you running out there that Mother’s nurse needs to use a frying pan to defend people?”
Suzanne didn’t mean to laugh. But she couldn’t help it. Shelley’s overreaction tickled her. Her laughter deepened her sister’s glare, so she quickly apologized and then added, “She only thought she needed to defend Alexa. As it was, Pepper, our border collie, was the one jumping on her. The guest was actually trying to help. It was all a misunderstanding.”
“That time.” Shelley turned to Mother. “I agree with Clete. If a married couple was coming, then fine. But how can you approve a single man staying in your upstairs with Anna-Grace right next door?”
Suzanne spoke before Mother could. “She’s in the Ruth 2:10. Another bedroom and the bathroom separate her room from the 2 Corinthians 9:8.”
Shelley whisked her attention to Suzanne. “What does that matter? Next door, across the hall—either way it isn’t a good situation. Anna-Grace’s parents would have a fit if they knew, and rightly so! You shouldn’t even be taking reservations from people like that.”
Had Shelley forgotten she was speaking to one of Anna-Grace’s parents? Suzanne would never knowingly put her daughter in a dangerous position. She pressed her palms to the tabletop and battled remaining in her seat. “Shelley, we haven’t even met this man, and you’re already classifying him as a troublemaker. And only because he isn’t married and comes from a big city. That’s hardly fair. Believe it or not, there are trustworthy people who live outside of Arborville.”
Shelley folded her arms over her chest and turned aside.
Suzanne gentled her voice. “I’ve got enough sense to determine if it’s unsafe to let him stay with us. If I have any concerns at all after I’ve met him, I’ll—”
Shelley snapped, “Send him to Pratt or Wichita?”
Alexa needed the income guests could provide. Not unless he was an ax murderer would Suzanne send him elsewhere. “I’ll have Anna-Grace stay in the cottage with me for the length of his stay. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a room to ready.”
“What about Mother? How will she get back to the farm?” Shelley snapped the questions, her voice as sharp as if Suzanne never gave their mother any consideration.
She picked up her plate and silverware. “Would you like to come with me now, Mother?”
Mother shook her head. “I’m not done visiting.”
Clete’s pickup sat so high it was hard to get Mother in and out of it, so she turned to Sandra and Derek. “Would you mind bringing Mother out when you’re finished?”
Sandra beamed a bright smile. “Of course not, Suzy.”
Derek added teasingly, “Thanks for giving us a chance to take a car ride. That’ll put Ian and Isabella to sleep for sure.”
Suzanne grinned a thank-you and hurried into the kitchen. She started for the sink, but then she froze just inside the door, captured by the scene in the room. Anna-Grace sat at one end of the table, Steven at the other, with the children lining the sides. She might have been looking through a window at her daughter’s future—a home-cooked meal shared in a cozy kitchen, an attentive husband, a quiverful of happy, beautiful children. Would they invite her for a meal sometimes, the way Shelley, Sandra, and Clete invited Mother?
“Anna-Grace?” The word came out raspy and low, but Anna-Grace looked up.
“Yes, Cousin Suzy?”
Cousin Suzy. Sorrow swelled, creating a knot in her throat. Anna-Grace’s children would never call Suzanne “Grandmother.” She scurried across the floor and deposited her dishes in the sink. “I’m heading back to the farm. Do you want to come with me, or would you rather have Steven bring you later?”
Steven spoke up. “I’ll bring her later. I’m not ready to let her out of my sight just yet.”
Anna-Grace hunched her shoulders and giggled, her rosy cheeks bright against the white ribbons trailing from her cap.
Exactly what Suzanne had expected. Way back when, she and Paul had wanted every possible chance to be together, too. The knot of sadness grew. Suzanne cleared her throat. “All right. I’ll see you later. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon.”
She drove the familiar road from town to the farm and pulled in next to the barn. As she made her way along the walkway to the porch, her head low to block the wind, she went over the careful instructions Alexa had given her for making sure the rooms were ready for guests. Fresh sheets on the bed, fresh towels in the bathroom, washcloth accordion-folded on the edge of the sink, a fluffy bathrobe hung on a hook inside the door, and two truffles—store-bought since Suzanne didn’t make truffles—on the nightstand.
As she stretched clean sheets over the mattress, she sent up a prayer. Let this man be honorable and trustworthy, Lord, so Anna-Grace won’t have to stay out in Alexa’s cottage with me. A selfish prayer? Absolutely. But also necessary to preserve her heart.
Arborville
Paul
Monday morning was overcast and chilly but calm—mild enough for Danny to walk to school. Paul drove him anyway. Mostly to make sure he didn’t sample anything from his lunchbox on the way. Lately he’d become a
bottomless pit, and Paul couldn’t keep enough food in the cupboards to satisfy him. Had Anna-Grace ever gone through an eat-everything-in-sight stage? He gave himself a mental shake, putting his focus back on Danny. The stuffed lunchbox was for lunch, not a post-breakfast snack. Besides, he’d hidden something inside, and he didn’t want the boy discovering it until the middle of the day.
He glanced at his son, who fiddled with the lunchbox’s plastic handle. Head low, bottom lip slightly extended, forehead pinched. What was he thinking about? Along with the excessive hunger had come a new restraint unlike the Danny that Paul had always known. There’d been times in the past he wished he could put a cork in Danny’s mouth to stop his endless flow of words. Now he’d give almost anything to see his son’s boundless exuberance return.
Paul pulled up in front of the plain red-brick building, applied the brakes, and shifted into Park. “Okay, here you go.”
Danny reached for the door handle.
Paul caught his arm. “Hold up there. Stay out of your lunchbox until your noon break. You had plenty of breakfast.” Plenty was an understatement. The boy had consumed two eggs, two pieces of toast with jam, a bowl of cereal, and a banana. Enough to hold a grown man until lunchtime.
Danny scowled but nodded.
“Is your homework in your backpack?”
“Yes, Dad.”
“Both math and social studies?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure you got everything done?” Twice last week Danny had chosen to finish some work but not all. Paul felt a bit like the Gestapo, quizzing his son, and Suzy’s advice not to be too hard on him tickled the back of his mind, but he couldn’t let Danny get by with laziness.
“Yeah.”
“Good. Remember to turn it in.”
Danny huffed. “I will.”
Paul leaned sideways, aiming a kiss for his son’s cheek. Danny ducked, and Paul ended up brushing the crown of his head instead.
“Dad!” The boy glanced out the window, his movements jerky, almost panicky, then turned a sour look on Paul. “I’m not a baby anymore.” He yanked his hood into place.
When Love Returns Page 14
