Caleb scooted to the edge of the picnic bench, ogling Ian like he wore a cape and might blast into the sky at any moment. Robin pushed him back in his seat for the third time and pointed to his half-eaten hot dog, unsure why her son was so taken with the developer, while Ian charmed her father with a story of a trip to Ohio gone wrong. Dad’s laughter grated.
Amanda set her elbows on the table. “How long do you think you’ll be here?”
“A couple weeks. Give or take.”
Robin tightened her grip on the plastic fork and pushed potato salad around her plate. It would take him a lot longer than fourteen days to convince her to sell, especially now that One Life hinged on her resistance. She uncrossed her legs. Recrossed them. Then raised her eyebrows at Bethany in a do-something appeal. Bethany’s forked pineapple paused near her lips.
“Are you going to the fish fry at the park on Monday?” Amanda asked.
“The mayor invited me.”
Of course. The two were joined at the hip. Robin was surprised Ian hadn’t invited the mayor to her family picnic. She stuffed a bite of potato in her mouth to keep from saying so.
“So”—Ian turned his caramel eyes on her—“I’ll be at the town meeting this Thursday.”
The potato turned gritty. Robin forced herself to swallow. “Why?”
“I met with town council yesterday. Most are in favor of the condominiums and want to give the rest of the town a say in the matter. That’s why I came here today. To give you a heads-up and to see if you’d consider my offer. I think it would be best for everyone if we could have a conversation first.”
Loraine set down her sweet tea while Jim made funny faces at baby Elyse on his knee. “A conversation about what?”
Loraine didn’t know. Neither did Jim. Or Donna. But everybody else at the table, everybody else laughing and enjoying Ian’s company, knew his intentions. Maybe they all needed a polite reminder. “Ian wants to tear down Willow Tree and build condos.”
Loraine stopped chewing.
“If he succeeds, not only will I be out of a café, the town will lose One Life.” She glanced at Kyle, who shifted food around his plate. Judging by its fullness, he wasn’t having any more fun than Robin.
“Is there a reason One Life can’t relocate?” Ian asked.
“It’s not that simple.” Kyle set his fork beside his plate. “We rent the space from Sybil at an incredibly low cost. We won’t get that price anywhere else in town.”
“Which means we’ll have a lot less money to give to those in need.” Robin tried her hardest to glare. “If they move, they’ll have to cut back on programming.”
“Couldn’t you run the ministry out of the church?” Ian asked.
“A lot of the people we serve would never set foot inside a church. The whole purpose of the ministry is to be the hands and feet of Christ in the community, outside the church walls.”
Robin had no idea how Kyle could speak so calmly, so patiently. Not when she was using every bit of her strength to temper the heat rising in her chest, partly on behalf of One Life, partly because of the remorse on Ian’s face. He had no right to look so sorry about the news. Not unless sorry made him change his plans.
“This is ridiculous, isn’t it? He can’t force me to sell.” The panic she’d tried so hard to swallow throughout the meal spewed from her mouth.
“Why don’t you hear him out before making a decision?” Amanda suggested.
Robin turned on her with razor-sharp eyes. Inviting Kyle was one thing. They were at least on the same side. But Ian? Before she said something she’d later regret, she snatched her empty cup and stood. “Excuse me.”
Amanda clambered out of her seat and followed Robin’s fast retreat. “Robin, wait.”
But Robin didn’t wait. She stalked up the hill toward the house. She didn’t stop until she reached the screen door and Amanda grabbed her arm. “Robin.”
She whipped around. “How could you invite him, Amanda? Don’t you care about me at all? Don’t you care about Willow Tree?”
Amanda took a step back. “Whoa, it’s just a picnic. I had no idea you’d get so upset.”
“It’s not ‘just a picnic.’ ” Robin flung her hand toward the gathering. “It’s you and everybody else acting like what Ian plans to do is no big deal. You’re taking his side.”
“Okay, hold on a second. Nobody is taking his side. I’ll go to bat for you over the café. And so will Bethany and Evan. You know that.”
“It doesn’t feel that way,” Robin said. “Even my own son is enamored.”
“Can you blame him?”
She gritted her teeth and walked inside the kitchen.
Amanda followed. “I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like this.” She pointed to Robin’s tight grip on the underside of the counter. “You really hate him, don’t you?”
“I don’t hate anybody.”
“Yes, you do. He totally gets under your skin.”
Robin filled her cup with the filtered water from the fridge and took a long drink.
“Inviting Kyle was obviously a waste of time,” Amanda said. “I invited Ian for me, but maybe I need to take a step back.”
Robin yanked opened the refrigerator and put the water back. “What are you talking about?”
Amanda arched her brows. “Oh, please! You don’t react that strongly to someone without sparks flying.”
“Attraction. You were fighting it every time you stuffed your mouth with food.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Sure it is.”
“The only reason I’m upset is because I’m worried about my café.”
Amanda set her hand on her hip and dipped her chin. “So if I asked him out on a date, you wouldn’t care? Not even a teeny tiny bit?”
“No.” Robin hurled the word from her mouth before she could think. “But as my sister-in-law and my roommate and my accountant, don’t you think it’s a little inconsiderate of you to go on a date with a man who wants to bulldoze my café to the ground?”
Amanda shrugged. “I can’t help it. I like him.”
“You don’t even know him.”
“I know when I’m around him, Jason’s the furthest thing from my mind.”
Robin looked away. Amanda’s reference to her ex-boyfriend wasn’t fair. “So what? You want my permission to date Ian?”
Amanda took the glass from Robin’s hand and set it on the counter. “I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have asked Ian to come or invited Kyle without giving you a fair warning.”
The screen door opened. Bethany stepped inside. “Amanda, really? Inviting him was over the top, even for you.”
She threw up her hands. “I already apologized. Sheesh.”
“Your dad wants to talk to you.” Bethany gave Robin an apologetic smile and escorted Amanda out the door. Dad came in and wrapped Robin in a much-needed hug. She melted against him, thankful for his warmth and the familiar scent of pine pressed into his clothes.
“I know this is driving you nuts.” His chest rumbled as he spoke. “But can I give you my honest opinion?”
She shook her head into his shirt.
“There’s no harm in listening to his offer, getting the details.”
Her body sagged. She didn’t want to talk about this right now.
“As your lawyer, it’s the smart thing to do. And as your father, I think it would give you a little peace. As I said before, he’s not going to quit until you at least hear him out.”
Robin pulled away and stared at her pink toenails, suddenly very sick of this conversation. She wiggled her toes beneath the leather strap of her sandals, trying to ignore the throbbing in her temples. Perhaps Bethany had some ibuprofen in her medicine cabinet. “Donna seems happy. She looks at you like a love-struck teenager, anyway.”
“The feeling’s mutual.”
The words clinked like a penny tossed into a dried-up wishing well. She should feel happy for her father, not empty, but she couldn’t help it. Seeing Dad and Donna hold hands and laugh not only made Robin miss Mom, it reminded her of everything she didn’t have. She worked hard to push the negative thoughts aside and focus instead on all that God had given her. She had so much in Caleb and the café. What good did it do to focus on the one thing He’d taken away?
“Robin?”
She looked up from her big toe.
“I want to tell you something, in private, before we make the announcement.”
A far-off humming came to life in her ears. “Announcement?”
“Donna and I, well”—Dad gave her a sheepish grin and brought his hand to the back of his neck—“we’re getting married.”
She tried to smile, but her lips felt all loose and tingly, like she’d just had work done at the dentist. Dad had proposed …
He stepped forward and wrapped her in a bear hug.
She forced her arms to hug him back. “Congratulations,” she whispered.
“Thanks, sweetheart. Your support means the world to us.”
Us. She had been an us once, with Micah. But even in their happiest us moments, Caleb had been missing. And now in her happiest moments with Caleb, Micah was missing. Why did something have to be missing?
“I really want you and Donna to be close.” Dad tipped her chin and looked into her eyes. “I know you’ll love her once you get to know her better.” He let go and held out his elbow. “I’m going to announce the big news. Care to join me?”
Robin opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She pressed her palm against her collarbone and tried a second time. “You go ahead. I need to use the rest room first.”
A hint of a frown flickered across his brow, but he nodded, wiped his hands down the thighs of his jeans, and left Robin stranded in the kitchen, scrunched and twisted, like a once-wet towel wrung out and left to dry.
Ian pulled at his collar, searching for an opportunity to politely excuse himself. Now that he had delivered the news about the town meeting, he felt terribly uncomfortable about staying at what was clearly a family party. But he had a hard time following the conversation. Robin’s vehement words about One Life had him distracted. Contrary to what she might think, he didn’t want to see the ministry go. Especially not at the hands of his father’s company. He glanced toward the farmhouse and spotted Bethany escorting Amanda back to the picnic tables.
When they arrived, Amanda straddled the bench, wrapped her arms around Caleb’s chest and set her chin on top of his head. Bethany slid next to her husband. She and Evan exchanged a hidden look—a wordless language carved from years of intimacy. One that watered Ian’s growing discomfort.
“How’s your job going, Bethany?” Kyle asked. “Evan was telling me about it at the meet and greet.”
“She’s getting referrals left and right. Pretty soon I won’t have to farm anymore.”
Bethany gave Evan a playful nudge. “You’ll quit farming the day I learn how to bake.”
“You bake okay.”
Bethany raised her eyebrows at Loraine. “Your son’s a liar.”
Loraine smiled. “I know I’ve said it before, Bethy, but every time I see that café, I’m amazed. You really made it into something special.”
“I’m always wondering where she got her talent,” Ruth said.
Ian sat up straighter. “You designed Willow Tree?”
“Bethany’s an architect.” Amanda dug her hand inside an opened bag of chips. “Any of the new or renovated buildings on the north end of Peaks are in her portfolio.”
“Really?” Ian pondered this new bit of information. He didn’t have to be a genius to figure out Bethany had more clout with Robin than any other person at the table. “Our company is always looking for talented architects. Have you ever designed condominiums or townhomes?”
“A couple.”
“Would you mind if I took a look at your portfolio?”
“She’s got a really great website,” Amanda said.
Evan and Bethany shot her a look.
“What?” Amanda popped a chip in her mouth and crunched it between her teeth. “I was paying you a compliment.”
Ian chuckled. He liked Amanda.
Robin’s father returned. He stepped behind Donna and squeezed her shoulders. “If I could have everyone’s attention, we have an announcement to make,” he said.
Everybody turned.
“Would you like a drumroll?” Amanda asked.
Donna laughed. “I think a drumroll would be most appropriate.”
Amanda drummed her pointer fingers against the picnic table. Caleb joined. Robin’s dad took a deep breath, his eyes dancing as he looked from one person to the next. “Donna and I are getting married.”
Amanda and Loraine and Ruth jumped up from the table and descended on Donna with excitement and hugs. Jim stood with baby Elyse and pumped the man’s hand. And in the midst of the jubilation, Ian spied an uneasy look pass between Bethany and Evan before they joined in the congratulations.
Ian peered toward the farmhouse, then back to the celebration unfolding before him. The family party had become even more intimate. Capitalizing on the moment of jubilee, he made his exit, walked up the grassy hill and knocked on the screen door. Before he left, he wanted to check on Robin. Despite what she might think, he didn’t like causing anyone grief.
When nobody answered, he walked around the house and spotted her still, slender frame sitting on the top step of the wraparound porch, the sun shimmering against her hair. She tucked a loose strand behind her ear, giving him access to her silhouette, her features sketched with warmth and sorrow. How had he missed it before? Passion and joy had filled the notes of her music … but something else had given it depth. The chord that had touched his soul? It had been a chord of sadness—a sound he wished he didn’t know.
Despite his quiet approach, she looked up, away from whatever she had been examining in her hand. Ian closed the gap between them and sat beside her on the stoop. A strong breeze rustled through the tree towering in the front yard. The chain of the tire swing groaned as the treaded rubber swayed back and forth. “You okay?” he asked.
“I’ve had better days.”
Ian peeked at the photograph in her hand. The man in the picture looked like a younger version of Evan. “Do you usually carry a photograph of him?”
Robin clasped the photo to her chest. “Don’t you have anything better to do? Like woo my family?”
“Consider them wooed.”
“You’re very cocky.”
“Confident is such a nicer word.” He placed his hands behind him on the warm floorboards, bleached white from years of sun.
She leaned so far away that her back hugged the banister.
“You’re not happy about your dad’s news?”
Robin cocked her eyebrow. “On top of fixing ovens and child-rescuing, you like to play Dr. Phil too? Any other hidden talents I should know about?”
He smiled at his shoes. “So what, you don’t like Donna?”
“Of course I like Donna.”
“You want your parents back together?”
“My mother’s dead.”
“Oh.” The breeze returned. It whispered through the branches of the tree until the boughs bent back and forth, like Mother Nature wagging her finger at him. “I’m sorry.”
Robin twisted her wedding ring. “It was a long time ago.”
“Time doesn’t always make things easier.”
She looked at him, then. Full in the face. Tangles of dark hair framed her cheeks, and the sadness in her eyes tugged at something deep in his chest. “No, it doesn’t.”
Staring straight at Robin’s loss reminded him of his mother. If the cancer won—something he refused to believe possible—he couldn’t imagine all the time in the world would dull the ache she’d leave behind. Setting his elbows on his knees, Ian spotted a penny lying on the dirt between his shoes. He picked it up, rubbed his thumb over the dull copper. When he looked back at Robin, a deep divot had etched itself in between her eyebrows and her lips were twisted to the side.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he said, holding out the coin.
She didn’t take it.
“I’d love to know what you were just thinking.”
“I was thinking about One Life. Last fall, they helped my employee, Molly, secure a new apartment after the bank foreclosed on her home.”
He flipped the penny off his thumb, where it landed in the grass, a piece of treasure waiting for Caleb to discover. “Believe it or not, I’m sorry about the ministry.”
“Just not enough to stop.”
Ian pulled at his jaw, then gripped the back of his neck. He didn’t choose the location. Robin blamed him for things outside his control. “If it were up to me, I’d build the condos elsewhere. Far away from your café and far away from One Life.”
Robin looked down at her feet. A soft, pale pink painted her toenails.
“Do you really think I want to go to battle with the town saint?”
She jerked her head up. “Town saint?”
“I believe that’s what Cecile Arton called you. Saint Robin, caretaker of the hurting and lonely.” At the time, he assumed Robin was a typical do-gooder, helping the less fortunate so she could feel less guilty about her own good fortune. He had no idea she belonged to the very population she served. “Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
“I’m only doing what anybody else would do.”
“That’s not true. Otherwise every widow and orphan in this world would have full bellies. Last I read in the paper, that’s not the case.”
A blush the same color as her toenails painted Robin’s cheeks, but her posture stiffened. “Why are you still here?”
“I’m waiting for you to listen to my offer.”
“Fine. What is it?”
He blinked, then quoted his price.
The rosiness in her cheeks faded to chalky white.
He and his father had discussed it. They’d offer her as much as they could if it meant getting her to sell. “The mayor wants these condos. He’s thrilled about them. Come Thursday, I’m willing to bet the rest of the town will be thrilled as well.”
“Your overconfidence will be your downfall, Mr. McKay.”
“Ian.”
“You’re underestimating Peaks.” She lifted her chin. “And you’re underestimating me.”
He took her in—from the blazing blue of her eyes, to the stubborn set of her jaw, to the determined slant of her narrow shoulders—and smiled. “Is that possible?”
“After losing my husband and single parenting and getting that café up and running, I’ve discovered something about myself.”
It was his turn to cock his eyebrow.
“I know how to get back up after being knocked down. I’m a fighter, especially for things that matter to me, and let me tell you, Mr. McKay, that café matters. Despite the broken appliances and being short staffed and every other headache that comes with running a business, I love Willow Tree.” Robin pushed herself up to standing and sandwiched the photograph between her palms. “So thank you for your offer, but no, thanks. I’ve listened, and I’m not interested.”
Ian looked up at her, careful to keep his face neutral. He couldn’t let her see how much her words shook him, not just because they boded ill for his plans, but because he couldn’t help coveting her passion. “I guess I’ll see you at the town meeting, then.”
“I guess so.” She walked away.
“Hey, Robin?”
She stopped and turned.
“I don’t want to fight you on this.”
“Then don’t.”
She said it like it was so simple. But if he gave up, the mayor would simply find another developer. Robin would still lose her café. One Life’s ministry would still be shoved aside for condominiums. And Dad would be left to pick up the pieces of Ian’s failure once again. “I don’t have a choice.”
She shoved the picture in her pocket. “There’s always a choice,” she said, and continued on her way.
Ian scuffed his shoes against the ground, the untruth of Robin’s words scraping against tender scars.