“You sure you want to help wash the dishes?” Katie said.
Standing in front of the kitchen sink, she dipped her hands into the hot, sudsy water and swiped the dishcloth over a plate. Just before dinner, Charlie had told her that Chrissy had already guessed Reese was her father. Because of a picture Katie kept in her drawer. It was Reese’s senior picture and she’d gotten it from the high school. She didn’t even know why she’d kept it all this time. But now, Katie understood why Chrissy had taken to Reese so fast. She’d known he was her father from the moment they first met. And there was nothing Chrissy wanted more than to have her daddy in her life.
“I don’t mind washing dishes, if you’d like. Or I can dry. I’m pretty good at KP duty,” Reese said.
He stood beside her, his arm brushing against her shoulder. She resisted the urge to look up at him. “KP duty?”
“Kitchen patrol.” He shrugged his impossibly broad shoulders, then reached past her for a dish towel. “Since you’ve already got your hands in the sink, how about if I dry?”
She doubted he’d ever washed dishes as a teenager. “Where did you learn KP duty?”
“My hotshot crew.”
He bumped against her and she scrunched her shoulders, drawing back. She tried to pretend his presence didn’t affect her. That she didn’t want to gaze into his eyes and study the contours of his face.
“I thought you fought fires with your crew,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm.
“I did, among other things. When we were on the fire line, our meals were prepared for us by a caterer.”
She nodded. “Yes, when we’ve got a fire in the local area, Megan Marshall prepares meals from her restaurant for the hand crews.”
“When my hotshot crew was at our home base, we took turns preparing a number of our meals. I frequently had KP duty. And believe it or not, I make a mean pot roast.”
She laughed. “Maybe I’ll let you make Sunday dinner for us. You might be able to teach me a thing or two.”
“I might.” He chuckled, his eyes twinkling. But then he went very quiet and a deep sadness settled across his face.
She rinsed a glass and reached across him to set it in the dish drain. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. It’s just hard to talk about my friends. Sometimes I forget they’re all gone, and I miss them.” He picked up the glass and dried it, his voice sounding hoarse with emotion.
Something painful wrenched inside Katie. She’d spent the last seven years believing that Reese didn’t care about anyone but himself. That he was lazy, selfish and heartless.
“From what I’ve heard on the news, you’re blessed to be alive.” She didn’t want to care about this man and his troubles, yet she couldn’t seem to help it.
He snorted. “I wouldn’t call it blessed. In many ways, I feel ostracized.”
“Why do you say that?” She tilted her head and gave him a sidelong glance as she handed him a plate. He dried it with several quick swipes of the towel, then set it on the counter with the other clean dishes.
“I’m the only one that survived,” he said in a low, thoughtful voice. “And I don’t think it should have been that way. I should have died, too. I was the only one without a family. Each of my buddies had people back at home waiting for their return, yet I’m the only one who got out of there alive.”
She heard the note of pain in his voice. She wasn’t sure how to respond but knew she had to say something.
“I know what it feels like to think your life is ruined,” she said. “That you can never make it right again. But you can’t stop believing. You can never quit trying.”
He gave an ugly scoff. “People like me are beyond repair.”
“Reese, just because your crew died doesn’t mean the Lord didn’t hear your prayers,” she said. “He saved you, didn’t He? He knows this isn’t all there is to life and He sees the bigger picture of eternity. You shouldn’t give up on Him. In fact, maybe you’re looking at this all wrong.”
He shifted his weight. “How so?”
“Maybe you should cherish this second chance you’ve been given and use it to do a lot of good in the world. To honor the memory of your friends who died.”
He jerked his head toward her but didn’t respond. His dark eyebrows drew together in a deep, thoughtful frown. It hurt her to think that he didn’t believe in the Lord. That he didn’t believe in anything. But she sensed that it wasn’t so much that Reese didn’t believe, but rather that he was angry at God. It rattled her that he was confiding in her. These were the poignant things Tom Klarch wanted her to write about. And she decided then that she would put it all down on paper, capture it while the emotions were fresh. But the story would never be published unless Reese gave his go-ahead.
She tried to think of something else to talk about. Something less morbid. But what came out next startled her.
“Have you got a girlfriend?” she asked, unable to stop herself. She’d been wondering about this ever since she’d told him he was Chrissy’s father. She had to know if there was a woman in his life that she’d have to deal with. After all, he might have other children, too. Katie had no idea how complicated this situation might get. She just hoped and prayed she was up to the challenge.
* * *
Reese couldn’t help smiling with amusement. He hadn’t expected Katie’s question and wondered if he imagined a tinge of jealousy in her voice.
“Why do you ask? Are you in the market?”
Color flooded her face. “Of course not. I was just wondering, in case you want to introduce her to Chrissy.”
He laughed. “No, I don’t have anyone. I rarely date, I’ve never been married and I have no other children that I know about.”
She blinked at him, saw that he was teasing her, then smiled. It wasn’t a laughing matter, especially since she’d kept Chrissy a secret from him, but he was glad they could find a little bit of humor in their situation. Laughter was good medicine for them.
He leaned his hip against the counter and flipped the dish towel over his shoulder. “Why are you so interested in my private life?”
“I…I was just wondering if my daughter had any brothers and sisters.”
Reese could accept that. He’d been gone a long time. If he was going to build a relationship with his daughter, then Katie had a right to know what to expect from him. But he was telling the truth. He used to drink and party, but he’d felt too insecure to develop a lasting relationship with a woman. He was too afraid of becoming abusive like his father.
One day, Katie might settle down with another man. Reese told himself that he didn’t care. Up until the fire, he’d been content with his life and didn’t need a wife or family to make him happy. He’d be relieved when it was time to move on. Wouldn’t he? So why did the thought of never seeing Katie again leave him feeling empty inside?
His heart gave a powerful surge and he looked away. “I’m not the kind of man who should ever fall in love.”
“Why do you believe that?” she pressed.
“Because if I ever marry, I’ll only hurt my wife, the way my father hurt my mother and me. And I don’t want that.”
The confession slipped out so easily. And the moment he said the words, he regretted them. Katie was much too easy to talk to and he didn’t like confiding such private things to her. It exposed too much of his heart, and he’d learned from sad experience not to trust easily. If you didn’t trust, then you didn’t get hurt. It was that simple.
“You’re not your father, Reese,” she said.
“No, I haven’t had a drink in six years. But I’m still my father’s son. I don’t want to take the chance that I’ll become an abuser, so I don’t plan to ever get hitched. It’s best that I play it safe.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get so personal.” Her voice sounded deflated.
“Well, now you know.” He took the dishcloth from her, wrung it out and turned away to wipe down the counters. It was a good diversion and gave him the opportunity to do something besides look at her beautiful profile.
He wanted to be better than his father, but he also feared that his dad still lived within him. That he would hurt anyone he loved. And so he couldn’t fall in love. Not ever.
“What are your plans for the next few days?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I hadn’t really thought about it. Why?”
“If you’re interested, you could help with a service project I’ve been working on over at Elsa Watkins’s house. It would involve some simple yard work and a few repairs, nothing too strenuous.”
His interest was piqued. “I think you mentioned that earlier.”
“Yes. I’ve been making some visits, to find out what her needs might be.”
He pretended a shudder. “I’m afraid Mrs. Watkins wouldn’t want me in her home.”
Katie paused. “I almost forgot. You and your gang of friends got drunk and ripped out her tomato plants and smashed the prize watermelons she was planning to enter in the county fair.”
He cringed at her graphic description. “Yes, and I regret it.”
She laughed. “I suspect Mrs. Watkins regrets it, too. But maybe it’s time for you to compensate. And what better way than to help clean up her yard? She’s been having a rather difficult time since her husband died. She’s got a bad hip and can’t move without a walker. She can’t even mow her own lawn anymore.”
Hmm. Maybe Katie was right. Maybe it was time he made amends for what he’d done. And not just for Mrs. Watkins’s garden. He owed apologies to numerous people in town. Some of them might reject his contrition, but he had to try. He sensed that was the only way he could ever be right with the world. Providing service to those people he had wronged was certainly better than spending his days holed up at the cabin in boredom. But the more he was seen out in public, the more chance the media might find him again. That was the chance he’d have to take.
“Let me think about it,” he said, not wanting to confess his thoughts to her.
She pursed her lips in a doubtful expression. “Whatever.”
She obviously didn’t believe he cared or that he wanted to help. But he did. And that realization surprised him.
He looked out the window and saw that it was dark. He’d spent almost the entire day here and was surprised that he’d enjoyed every minute of it. But now the clock on the wall said it was half past nine. Chrissy had already gone to bed. The summer sky twinkled with a zillion stars; the air from the open window was scented with honeysuckle. Time to go home and sleep, if he could.
“I guess I’ll be going,” he said.
“Yes, you don’t want to have an accident on your way home.” She hung the dish towel on the stove door handle.
Home. He never thought he would consider a cabin on Cove Mountain as his home, but he felt more comfortable there and in this motel than any place he’d ever lived.
“I’ll walk you out.” She led the way, her bare feet padding across the linoleum floor.
Outside, the lights in the parking lot gleamed brightly, chasing away the dim shadows. Katie stood on the back steps and folded her arms, scrunching her shoulders against the slight chill in the air.
“It’s a bit cold out. Go in.” He jutted his chin toward the screen door.
“Let me know when you’d like to see Chrissy again,” she said.
“I will.” He waved as he climbed into his borrowed truck.
He started up the engine, flipped on the headlights and pulled out of the garage. As he drove down the narrow alley, he glanced in the rearview mirror. Katie stood right where he’d left her, her face pale in the shadows of the building. And for some crazy reason, he wished he didn’t have to leave.