Summer's Glory: Seasons of Faith Book One (Arcadia Valley Romance 2)

by Mary Jane Hathaway

  Jamie leaned forward, blue eyes wide. “So, isn’t it odd that he changed so much from when he was a teenager?”

  “I really don’t care why or how. It doesn’t make any difference to me.”

  “What he did was unforgiveable?”

  Violet glared at her. “I never said that.”

  “Hey,” Jamie said, reaching across the table and touching her hand. “I’m not trying to be mean, or say you’re holding a grudge.”

  “But that’s exactly what I’m doing. Isn’t that okay sometimes? People who do bad things shouldn’t be trusted. If I simply forget about his actions, then I’d be giving him the power to do it all over again. I think holding a grudge is a really wise thing to do.”

  “I’m sorry it happened to you, whatever it was exactly. And however you want to handle it, I’m sure you’re right.”

  Tears pricked her eyes and she blinked them away. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

  Jamie looked over Violet’s shoulder and smiled. For one moment, Violet was sure Silas had come to their table, maybe to make some crack about how she’d never grown an inch taller, or maybe to ask her to translate some fortune cookie in Chinese. Her whole body tensed and panic rose in her throat.

  “Hi, Mrs. Tam. The pizza is delicious!” Jamie said.

  “I’m glad you like it. Everything is better with kimchi.” Violet’s mother slid into the chair beside Violet. Her sleek bob was disheveled and she had a smear of pizza sauce on her sleeve. She reached out and hugged her. “There’s my girl. Get all the boxes moved?”

  Violet held on a few seconds longer than normal, inhaling her mother’s familiar rose perfume. “All moved. I can focus on the garden now. We can spend all next week making pizza sauce.”

  Her mother frowned. “About that…”

  “Something happened to the garden?” Violet’s heart skipped a beat. If they lost the tomato crop, they’d have to buy the produce wholesale to make the special pizza sauce that had turned Fire and Brimstone into the busiest pizza place in town. The secret ingredient was the tiniest bit of gochugaru but the distinctive red pepper flakes were fairly inexpensive.

  “No, the garden is fine. It’s just we’re so short-staffed. I can’t keep up. The sauce will have to wait. I can’t possibly leave right now. I hope the weather holds. If it rains, we’re going to be in trouble.”

  “I guess I can make it without you.”

  “I can help,” Jamie jumped in to say. “I can come after work. The church’s summer office hours are only until three. I can be there by four.”

  Her mother nodded, but there was a wrinkle between her dark eyes. “I have a better idea but I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

  Violet shook her head. “Really, Mom. Don’t worry about my feelings. I’ll do whatever you need. We’re family and that’s what family does.” It was strange that her mother even asked. She’d been raised to expect that most of her free time would be needed around their small farm, not goofing off with her friends.

  She smiled across at Jamie, then at Violet. “You’re all grown up now, with your own job and your own responsibilities. I can’t rely on you forever.”

  “Yes, you really can.” She sat up straight. “I don’t know why you think anything is different now. Just tell me what you need, Mom.”

  “Well, I think it’s better if I do the sauce and you help run everything here.” She seemed worried that Violet would refuse. “Elise Camden and Demi Delis said they’d come over to help. Elise will bring a few extra pressure canners and she’s had a lot of experience. She wouldn’t even know where to start here. But Jamie, you worked at Demi’s coffee shop in high school. You know how to run the cash register.”

  “I do,” Jamie said. “I know a lot more about cash registers than about canning sauce.”

  “Sure, Mom. That sounds fine. I’ve filled in enough times. I’m getting pretty good with the peel.” Violet felt a little bit relieved at the change in plans. She’d never been comfortable around the pressure canners. It seemed silly to be more at ease around wall-length, wood-burning ovens but it was true. Wielding the long-handled wooden peel was a lot less daunting than canning dozens of gallons of sauce under pressure.

  “Oh, thank you both.” She beamed over the table at them.

  “You’re taking such a weight off my shoulders. With the new breakfast counters being put in and having to be here at odd hours for Silas to measure―”

  “Wait.” Violet held up a hand. She wondered if she’d just imagined his name in the middle of her mother’s sentence. “Silas Black?”

  “Yes, he’s the carpenter I hired. Remember I told you I was hiring someone to make custom woodwork for the place? He’s got a really nice shop out near the Home and Garden store.” Her mother looked worried. “Is that a problem? I know you didn’t like him in high school but that was a long time ago.”

  Violet stared at her mother for a moment. She had never told her exactly why she’d wanted to switch schools, only that a boy was making her miserable. She’d been ashamed that one person could cause her so much grief and pain. As many times as her mother asked her what was wrong, Violet had always told her as little as possible. She’d been raised to be strong, fearless, and determined. She couldn’t admit that Silas Black had her sobbing in the bathroom because he called her names, like ‘Chinese girl’ and ‘Shorty’ and ‘Won Ton’. Her mother had lived through much worse and had grown the thick-skin of a first generation Korean girl growing up in a small Idaho town in the sixties. She never would have understood. Not then, not now.

  Chapter Three

  “I cannot endure to waste anything so precious as autumnal sunshine by staying in the house." ―-Nathaniel Hawthorne

  Violet took a deep breath. “No, it’s fine.”

  “Wonderful.” Her mother hugged her one more time and stood up. “Oh, I feel such relief! I was so worried about trying to do everything at once. We’ll hire someone as soon as we can and things will go back to normal. But for now, thank you both so much for helping out.”

  “Anytime, Mrs. Tam,” Jamie said. “You sure helped out at our farm that one year when the heat wave was ruining the crop. You called in your whole church and everybody went to work. We could never have harvested that many blueberries in two days. We would have lost our profits that year.”

  “That’s what neighbors do,” she said and waved goodbye. On her way back to the kitchen, she stopped by Silas and Luke’s table. Violet watched them as casually as possible and she could have sworn she knew the exact moment her mother broke the news that Violet would be heading the restaurant while he installed the new furniture.

  Silas was smiling and nodding, then the smile seemed to slide from his face in slow motion. He looked across the room at Violet and visibly swallowed, all the cheer gone from his expression.

  Violet turned her back and felt a surge of satisfaction. Good. She hoped he felt uncomfortable and afraid, just as she had those long years that he haunted the halls of her high school. She would never do anything to get in his way or make his job more difficult, but she might not pass up the opportunity to stand over him while he worked if it made him nervous.

  “Something funny?” Jamie was watching her closely.

  “No, not really. I’m just thinking this is an interesting turn of events.”

  Jamie chewed her lip. “Looking for a little revenge?”

  “Never.” It was irritating that Jamie had pegged her thoughts so perfectly. “I’m not that type of person.”

  “You’re not. Really.” Her friend seemed to be encouraging her to rise above, rather than simply giving her compliment. “Maybe that’s who Silas was ten years ago―”

  “No maybe. That’s who he was. And probably still is.”

  Jamie paused. “Okay, but that’s not who you are. And you never have been.”

  Instead of responding, she picked up her pizza and took a large bite. It was delicious, even slightly cold. Her mother had, as always, made somethin
g unique and wonderful in this little town that hadn’t always been welcoming to people like the Tams. They had always fought for their place in Arcadia Valley and Violet wasn’t going to let the bully change her life in any way. Now, her mother was employing him, and if he didn’t perform to her exact specifications, Violet would get the chance to put him in his place.

  She couldn’t wait for Monday.

  ***

  “Look at you, all grown up.” Elise Camden gripped Silas’ arm as he stepped into the church foyer and gave him a thorough once-over.

  “Hi, Mrs. Camden,” Silas said, feeling his cheeks go warm. He knew this would be hard. It wasn’t a surprise. If he was going to live in Arcadia Valley, he was going to run into people he had hurt. Breaking into the Camden’s place was just once more thing he’d done in his youth but it still made him flush with shame. “I was sorry to hear about Mr. Camden.”

  Her eyes turned sad and she nodded. “Thank you. We were married fifty five years. Can’t ask for more, can I? It’d be selfish.”

  “Not selfish at all,” he said. “Human.”

  She patted his arm. “Always such a good boy. So thoughtful.”

  Silas nearly choked at her words. He was different now, that was true, and he tried to be thoughtful. But he had been so very, very far from a good boy. For a moment he worried that she’d started to lose her memory like a lot of older people did at her age.

  She leaned closer and whispered, “Oh, I remember it, all right. But you just went through a rough patch. Every path in life has a few puddles. You were a good kid, in here. And that’s where it counts.” She tapped his chest.

  He felt a curious wave of gratitude rise up in him. It had been so long since he’d heard anything like it. Not since his mom had passed away.

  Elise smiled up at him. “So, still reading those mystery books? I found a bunch of Agatha Christies at a yard sale and picked them up for you.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate that.” Silas didn’t tell her that he had everything the woman had ever written, in hardback. He could always use a few paperbacks. He’d put them in his truck so he had a backup if he got stuck waiting for someone.

  “I didn’t think you could grow taller but here you are. Must be a good foot taller than I am. I feel like a shrimp.”

  “Would it help if I stand like this?” He bent his knees until he was nearly eye to eye.

  Elise burst out laughing, along with several other parishioners walking down the long hallway into the foyer.

  “Shhhhh,” an older woman said, frowning in their direction.

  “Sorry,” he whispered, glancing around. His attention was caught by a beautiful young woman standing in the doorway. Her petite frame was draped in a pale green cotton dress and her cheeks were flushed. He straightened up with a snap. “Hey, Violet.”

  She didn’t look at him. “Good morning, Mrs. Camden. How are you this Sunday?”

  Elise glanced at Silas, then Violet. “Good, thank you. Come sit with me. Both of you. My niece is sick today and I’ll be lonely all by myself.”

  “No, really I―” he said.

  “Thank you, but―” she started to say at the same time. She turned and gave him a level look, as if daring him to finish his sentence. After several tense seconds, she went on. “My mom will be here in a few minutes. I’ll just wait here for her. You go ahead.”

  Elise smiled. “Suit yourself. Plenty of room for your mom, too.” She looked to Silas. “Come on, my boy. Don’t make an old lady sit by herself.”

  “Mr. Black,” a little voice called out and Silas turned to see two small children running towards him. Juan and Julia Gonzalez had often brought their four kids to his mother’s farm. They didn’t live far away and the five year old twins loved the baby alpacas in the spring.

  “Hey, Valentina. Hi, Cassandra.” Silas was thankful that they had run up to him together because he couldn’t tell the little dark-haired girls apart. Their mother, Julia liked to dress them in identical outfits, same braided pigtails, same ribbons in their hair, even the same little ruffled socks.

  “Did you make us anything?” one of them asked.

  “Valentina, that’s rude.” Julia rushed in behind them, a diaper bag over her shoulder and a toddler by the hand. Her husband followed, their new baby in his arms. Juan nodded at him and Silas felt the man’s reservation from where he stood. His past was no secret and he could sense it in the way people greeted him.

  “I did make them something. Nothing big. Just a little toy. Is it okay―?”

  “Of course,” Julia said quickly, but Juan didn’t answer. He continued to watch Silas.

  He bent down until he was eye level with the twins. He reached into his pockets and then held out both hands closed. “Pick a hand.”

  Valentina giggled and poked the hand nearest her. Silas opened it and the little girl’s eyes went wide. She grabbed the bright, lacquered top. “Does it work?”

  Cassandra tapped his other hand and she carefully removed the top. It always made Silas smile to see how different they were in temperament.

  “Let me show you,” he said. The tops took about three minutes to whittle out of leftover wood and about five minutes to paint. But the joy on the little girls’ faces as the tops spun on the hard church floor was worth hours of work.

  “We’d better get inside,” Juan said. He guided his wife through the doors and motioned for the girls to follow.

  “Thank you,” Valentina said, launching herself at Silas.

  He patted her back awkwardly. After she’d run after her father, Cassandra shyly whispered her thanks and followed. Silas unfolded himself from his squatting position and looked around. The foyer was full of people watching the exchange and all but one had a smile on their faces.

  Violet was frowning at him as if he had asked her a difficult question and she was puzzling out the answer.

  “Mrs. Camden, we’d better go in, too. I don’t want you to be late.”

  He held out his arm and she took it, beaming. Silas felt Violet’s gaze burning into the back of his head as they walked up the aisle to Elise’s favorite pew. Ron Taylor had invited him last week, otherwise he never would have come.

  Silas settled into the pew and saw Violet sit a few pews ahead of them on the other side, her mother looking happy to be sharing her Sunday morning with her community. Violet’s face was turned slightly but Silas could tell she wore no such expression.

  He blew out a slow breath and tried to calm his racing heart. In Billings, he’d loved his church family and he couldn’t imagine not attending in Arcadia Valley, but going back to the service that his mom had attended didn’t seem like a good idea. He didn’t want to face all those people he had hurt. Accepting Ron’s invitation had sounded like a good way to avoid all of that.

  “All creatures of our God and King, lift up your voice with us and sing…” As the first hymn began and the congregation stood, Silas steeled himself to endure an hour of worship with Violet just feet away. He’d been worried about facing people he’d hurt and having to apologize, but now he realized there were much worse scenarios. He had wounded Violet, and she would never let him say he was sorry. He didn’t blame her. She had every right to ignore him forever.

  ***

  “Thou fire so masterful and bright, that givest man both warmth and light…” Violet sang, but not with her usual gusto. Shock still coursed through her system at the idea of Silas being here, in her church. Was he following her? First getting hired at her mother’s restaurant, now showing up on Sunday and sitting just a few feet away seemed more than suspicious.

  Elise Camden had treated him like an old friend when everybody knew that Silas had broken into their house and stolen from them. Mr. Camden had even helped Silas fix his truck, and that was how he repaid the old couple. It made no sense. No matter how many years had passed, people didn’t change that much. Once a thief, always a thief. No wonder he liked the Maltese Falcon. Elise better watch her valuables.

  She swallow
ed back her anger and tried to focus on the words to her favorite hymn. “The flowers and fruits that in thee grow, let them His glory also show. Oh praise Him…” She closed her eyes for a moment and tried to imagine the garden, her place of refuge. An acre of tomatoes, acre of corn, an acre of everything else. Apple and plum trees. Pumpkins peeking out from behind giant leaves, encircled by vines. She felt her heart rate start to slow.

  “Oh men ye of tender heart, forgiving others take your part…” Words she’d never really noticed were now glaringly out of place. She could barely sing the next lines. No, that verse wasn’t meant for her. It couldn’t be.

  Violet shook off the conviction and refocused on the praise-filled refrain. She’d already forgiven Silas. She just wasn’t dumb enough to welcome him back into her life with open arms like the rest of Arcadia Valley. She’d let other people put themselves in danger by letting the guy into their homes. As for her, she’d watch the restaurant like a hawk. When Monday morning came, she’d be perfectly composed and in control. She wouldn’t be suckered with his smooth talk like everybody else. He had no more power over her.

  “Let all things their Creator bless, and worship Him in humbleness…” Another surge of unease swept over her. No, she wasn’t proud. She’d never acted anything less than humble.

  As the song ended and the service started, Violet reassured herself that she was simply over-thinking the lyrics. The song was meant to be encouraging, not critical. Tender-hearted, humble, and forgiving― she tried to be all those things. She just didn’t go overboard with it.

  It was perfectly okay to be forgiving at a very safe distance from Silas Black.

  Chapter Four

  “I think having land and not ruining it is the most beautiful art

  that anybody could ever want.”

  ― Andy Warhol

  Thor watched Violet pace the entryway of Fire and Brimstone, as if the dog could hear her heart beating double time. She told herself it was the triple shot caramel latte she’d drunk instead of her usual healthy breakfast of a small spinach smoothie. She hadn’t felt like eating, and five a.m. was much earlier than her normal hours, even during the school year.