by Gail Sattler
This felt more awkward than when he’d gone to the high school and registered Kat for classes and once again come face-to-face with Mrs. Pendegast, the mean secretary from his youth. She still hadn’t retired.
“Hi, I’m new here, I’m with—” A green blur with a hockey stick streaked past him, the clatter of in-line skates drowning out his words.
Instead of finishing his sentence, he turned to the blur. All he could see was the top of a silver helmet with blond hair sticking out as the skater bent at the waist to sort a collection of red and blue vests into piles.
“Everyone who’s playing, line up!” a female voice called out. “We’re dividing into teams. You have three minutes to get your skates on.”
Most of the girls stayed behind, but a few skated to the designated area and lined up with the boys, from shortest to tallest. The tall boy leaned on a light pole to put on his skates. Which meant he’d soon be even taller.
Kat waited at the front of the line, the shortest in the group.
The light-speed skater glided in front of Kat and stopped. The light-speed skater was curvy.
A woman.
She turned to the parent group. “We don’t have enough to make two teams,” the blond called out from across the marked-off area designated as the rink. “We need one more person. Who else brought skates?”
Luke’s breath caught in his throat.
Cindy…
Kat raised one hand. “My uncle did. I told him to. Just in case.”
“That’s great, Kat. By the way, it’s good to see you again.” Luke could see her bright smile even from the distance. Which was good. Kat needed the reassurance of other adults besides him. “Where is your uncle?”
Kat pointed to him, so Cindy turned in the direction of Kat’s finger. The second they made eye contact, he smiled. Cindy’s smile dropped and her mouth fell open.
Her voice came out in a squeak. “Uncle Luke?”
The cylinders in Cindy’s brain fired in a million different directions, high octane.
The tiny girl who got off the school bus every day for the last couple of months was Kat. And she wasn’t a daughter. Cindy hadn’t made the connection between youth-group Kat and the girl she’d only seen from a distance.
Maybe it was time to get a new prescription for her contacts.
Since Luke looked about the same age as she, he’d be about twenty-six or twenty-seven. Cindy had assumed—wrongly, it would appear—he could have had a daughter out of wedlock who could be as old as ten; Kat was that petite. Cindy had given him the benefit of the doubt and credit for taking some responsibility to care for a child. But a niece brought more relatives into the dynamics of whatever had gone wrong in his family. It was so much messier. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—get involved in a situation as bad as, or maybe worse than, her own.
But here he was, just like at work, giving her doe eyes. Or buck eyes. Or whatever that look was that men did when they were interested.
With an adorable niece between them.
Who might be just as messed up in the head as Cindy had been when her mother died.
If it hadn’t been for Farrah, her mother’s best friend and Cindy’s godmother, Cindy didn’t know how she would have made it. But at least until three months ago she’d had her father.
Poor Kat. Did she have a woman to guide her and help her when it felt like the world was against her? If Cindy had grown up with a mother, maybe instead of putting cars back together and having a journeyman certificate for welding she would be doing something feminine with her life. Like a ballerina or a beautician or a model.
Or not.
She cleared her throat. “Luke, if you’ve really got your skates, get them on. We don’t want to run out of daylight.”
Luke nodded then jogged to his car, which she noticed was parked beside her truck. He tossed his shoes into the backseat, yanked on his skates, secured the laces in record time, and was soon on his way back.
He wasn’t a half-bad skater, which meant she would put him on the other team.
Luke waited at her side while she counted everyone off by ones and twos as they stood in line, making the teams as evenly matched as possible. Then she suited up team one with red vests and team two with blue.
“The rules are what we discussed last Wednesday. No bodychecking. There have to be two girls on the ice on each team at all times. I don’t count as a girl. We can’t paint lines in the parking lot for practice, but we will draw chalk lines for a game. Until then, the white pylons show where center line is, and the orange ones mark the blue lines. Our first game is in two weeks against Blessings Fellowship. Pastor is the ref, so behave. Time for face-off!”
As Pastor skated to center ice, or rather, center parking lot, on wobbly ankles, Cindy caught sight of Luke gliding backward on his skates until they were side by side.
“You’re wrong, you know,” he said so only she could hear.
Keeping her attention on the pending face-off, Cindy spoke to him without actually looking at him. “Those are the rules. We were very clear at the last meeting. But I know you weren’t there.”
“Not about the rules.” He smiled. “You definitely count as a girl.”
She didn’t want to hear that.
Fortunately Pastor dropped the puck, setting the game in motion.
Like her, Luke stayed back and let the teens play, including the girls, who were weaker and less aggressive than most of the boys. Whenever the puck was passed to him, also like her, he passed it back to one of his teammates quickly and kept himself out of the action.
Except for when Tyler, the oldest and tallest boy on her team, had the puck. It was like flipping a switch: Luke changed from a playful pup into a grizzly bear. At times, Cindy bit back a grin at the look of fear on Tyler’s face, something she thought good to tame the kid’s ego. Whenever he got the puck, Luke went after him. But as soon as Luke won the battle, he gently passed the puck to the nearest girl on his team and slipped back out of the limelight until the next time his team needed him.
Of course, he was probably just working all the tension out of his system after being nice to cranky customers all day. Whenever she had to deal with unreasonable customers—or worse, her lazy stepsisters—she had the option to go into the shop and break things.
Cindy had no idea how long they’d played because they agreed the game would be over when daylight began to fade. Her team won, which didn’t matter because next week the teams would be different based on her system of dividing the players. Then the week after that, everyone would be on the same team against Blessings Fellowship.
While the teens threw their vests into the box, Cindy skated toward one of the nets to put it back into the church’s storage area.
As she approached the net, a rattle of skates came from behind. She knew whose they were without turning around. Luke zoomed in front of her then spun so he was skating backward. Without missing a beat, he took off his helmet and smiled at her.
Cindy felt her breath catch. With his dark-brown hair and coffee-colored eyes, he was movie-star handsome, except for his big nose—but in her opinion it only added to his masculine appeal. At work his hair was always neatly combed, but now after a workout, it hung in disarray, flopping over his forehead. His killer smile nearly made her lose her balance; Annie’s comment about Luke being hot didn’t even come close to reality.
He jerked his head toward the crowd. “Everyone’s going out for coffee. Are you coming?”
Usually she did, but this time she wasn’t sure it would be a good idea. “I can’t. I have to get up early for work tomorrow morning.”
They stopped at the net. She picked up one side and Luke picked up the other. “I’m sure all the other adults do as well, and the kids all have to go to school. We won’t be long.”
She opened her mouth to tell him that she still didn’t think it was a good idea, but he spoke before she did.
“Kat really wants you to go.”
Cindy turned to
the crowd, where everyone was either talking in groups or sitting on the ground taking off their skates.
Everyone except Kat, who was standing alone to the side, watching them.
Cindy gulped. “Sure. I’ll go. As soon as I get everything all packed up.”
Chapter 3
You like her, don’t you?”
Luke tried not to grit his teeth. “Yes.”
“But she doesn’t like you, does she?”
“Katherine…” Of all the things he needed to discuss with his fifteen-year-old niece, his love life, or lack thereof, wasn’t on the list.
Kat’s eyes widened then began to go glassy and her lower lip quivered.
Luke’s stomach dropped to the bottom of his shoes. His mind raced for something to say, except he didn’t know what he’d done wrong.
Tears rolled down Kat’s cheeks, and her breath came in short gasps. She swiped her arm across her eyes and turned her face to the car window.
“Kat…I’m sorry…I…” He let his voice trail off. He was the first to admit he didn’t know much about women, much less pre-adult women, but one thing he did know was that saying sorry first usually was the key to finding out what he was supposed to be sorry for.
“Please don’t be mad at me.” She gulped. “I didn’t mean it.”
He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. He didn’t know whether to keep going and play it casual or pull off to the side and give her a hug. Then Kat moved her body closer to the door, which told him that she wouldn’t welcome a hug right now.
He kept driving but thought maybe he’d go the long way to the coffee shop so they would have more time to talk.
“I’m not mad at you. Why do you think I’m mad?”
She gulped in a deep breath, and her voice cracked as she spoke in gasping breaths. “Mom used to call me Katherine—when she was mad at me—and that last night she called me Katherine—and I went out without talking to her—and then I went straight to bed when I got home—and then Mom and Dad were in that car accident in the morning—and I never got to say I was sorry—and now she’s gone and I’ll never see her again—and I never told her I loved her—and my last words were that I hated her—and I can’t take it back.” She covered her face with her hands and began to sob.
Luke pulled off the road and turned off the car. He unbuckled his seat belt and Kat’s and gently rested his hands on her shoulders. She didn’t resist, so he pulled her in for a hug.
He hadn’t known that the last time she’d seen her mother they’d had a fight. He couldn’t imagine anything worse for a last memory. “Don’t let the sun go down on your anger.” Words he would never forget, especially now.
He held Kat while she cried, gently stroking her back, not quite knowing her loss. He’d been devastated by the loss of his brother and sister-in-law, but she’d lost her mother and father, and she was still a child. “She knew you loved her,” he said, feeling his own voice start to crack as memories of that day came crashing down on him, of getting the call telling him that both Andrew and Susie had been killed in a car accident on their way to work. He’d never forget the numbness that enveloped him, going to his brother’s house to be with Kat, knowing they were gone.
When Kat finished crying herself out, she pulled away and swiped at her face, for all the good it did. Even in the muted light from the streetlamps, he could see her eyes were red, her face blotchy, and her nose shiny.
He gave her a weak smile. “I think we can forgo the coffee shop tonight and just go home.” Aside from Kat being a wreck, he didn’t feel very sociable either.
Kat shook her head. “But Cindy is expecting you, and I know she only went because of me. I’m so sorry.”
He didn’t want her to be sorry. He especially didn’t want her to start crying again. After the waterfall of emotions, he wasn’t far from a few tears himself. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll see her tomorrow and explain.”
Kat sniffled then pushed away from him. “Call her now. Then we can go home.”
“I don’t have her phone number.”
“Are you serious?”
“It’s true. I see her nearly every day. Even if I don’t go in, we wave at each other across the parking lot. I’ve never needed to phone her.”
Kat sniffed again. “Then maybe we should go. I know you like her.”
Luke picked up one hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “That’s not important right now. What’s important is to get you home. Maybe we’ll make hot chocolate and watch a silly movie, and we’ll both go to bed real late and be tired in the morning together.”
She pushed his hands away and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I don’t want her to worry when we don’t show up. How about if you go in to buy a couple of hot chocolates while I wait in the car, and then we go home?”
Luke fastened his seat belt and started the car. “Deal. Buckle up and let’s go.”
Cindy checked her watch then took another sip of her coffee.
It was nearly cold, half-gone, and Luke still wasn’t there.
Just in case, she checked her cell phone. There were no missed calls.
As she flipped open the phone to search for Luke’s number, she realized she only had his business listing. Kat was too new to the group to be in the group’s directory, but Cindy hoped the girl would join. Not only was the group good for her, but for a little thing, Kat was pretty good with a hockey stick. Because she was small, most of the boys on the other team treated her like she might break—which was their mistake and her team’s gain.
While she tried not to worry, Cindy repositioned her chair to avoid being obvious about looking toward the door every time it opened, even though she should have been paying attention to the conversation at her table, which was about the postgame social activities the parent volunteer group was planning.
She’d nearly given up hoping they were going to come when Luke walked through the door.
Alone.
Luke stepped to the side of the entrance and slowed, glancing around the room until they locked eye contact. He paused, ran one hand through his hair, and approached her.
Cindy stood and guided him away for a private conversation. “Where’s Kat?”
He ran his hand through his hair again. “She’s feeling a little out of sorts right now so I’m just going to pick up a couple of hot chocolates and go home.”
Cindy turned to look outside at Luke’s car parked beside the building. Kat was sitting in the front passenger seat, blowing her nose.
It was probably none of her business and probably not smart to get involved, but she had to ask. “What’s wrong?”
“Kat needs some downtime, I think.”
She waited for him to say more but he didn’t.
“Is she going to be okay?” The second the words left her mouth, she knew the answer. Cindy didn’t know the whole story, but she’d figured out enough to make a good guess. The girl had lost both her parents, and now Luke was trying to pick up the pieces.
Cindy had been younger than Kat was now when her mother had died, but she still felt the loss and the heartache every day. Living with Melissa and her two daughters made Cindy miss her mother even more.
One day Kat would be okay, but that wouldn’t be for a long time. No matter how good Luke could be, he would never replace her mother.
Cindy wanted to help but didn’t know how much to get involved.
“I should get the hot chocolates and get going. Kat didn’t want you to worry, so I came in instead of using the drive-through. I guess I’ll see you at work tomorrow—if you’ve got time to squeeze in a couple of oil changes.”
“Uh…sure…”
Before she could come up with something more intelligent, Luke turned and headed for the counter.
While he was being served, Cindy sank back into her chair and watched Kat. She didn’t spend a lot of time with teenagers—she had only agreed to help the youth group short-term because of the hockey tournament. Sh
e did know that when left alone, most teenage girls went into texting frenzy, catching up on the precious minutes they’d been out of contact with their friends.
Kat sat still, staring out the window at nothing on the dark side of the parking lot, every once in a while swiping her arm across her face. She wasn’t texting—just staring out the window. The girl probably hadn’t seen any of her friends since she moved in with Luke.
The girl needed more than just a cup of hot chocolate.
But Cindy had needs, too. And one thing that she didn’t need was to get involved in someone else’s family troubles when she was drowning in her own.
She watched as Luke got into the car and handed Kat one of the cups. The girl nodded then continued to stare out the window.
Cindy stood. “I have to go home; sorry I can’t stay. I’m sure whatever you decide will be fine.” She tossed her cup and half-eaten muffin into the garbage can and headed for her truck, hoping once she got home she would be able to just sneak in quietly and go to bed. Whether sleep would come would be another issue.
Chapter 4
Luke had almost finished the paperwork on an insurance claim when the bell above the door tinkled. He did a double take when he caught sight of Cindy walking in.
He grinned. “This is a surprise. Welcome to Like a Prince Rentals.” He looked up at the rack where they hung the keys. “Did Brent take you something that I don’t know about?”
“No.” She glanced at the street then back to him. “I came over so we could talk before the school bus arrived.”
Automatically he turned to the direction of the bus route. “Kat’s feeling better today. We watched a chick flick last night with cold hot chocolate and burnt microwave popcorn. It wasn’t my kind of movie, but Kat enjoyed it—something about Chihuahuas and Hollywood and some number in the title.”
“That’s Beverly Hills…” Cindy shook her head. “Never mind. I was just wondering about something. I’m sorry if I’m sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong, but I was wondering if Kat might want to come with me and a few of the kids from the youth group to Pike Place Market on Saturday. They’re doing a fund-raiser lunch after church on Sunday and want to buy all the fruits and vegetables from the market.”
