fifteen
Agreeing to watch her six-year-old sister today could be categorized as pure brilliance. Janie was not ready to be alone with Thomas. She jabbed the floor with the mop to erase a black scuff, then dropped the mop back in the bucket. Thomas stood at the cash register, punching numbers into the calculator. Dark circles under his eyes testified that he hadn’t been sleeping well either. He blinked and slammed the money drawer shut. When he looked up they locked eyes. He opened his mouth as if to say something.
“I think they should have made her dress pink,” Trinity announced from a nearby booth as she colored in her book.
It broke the spell. Thomas blinked and turned away. He lifted Trinity to stand on the seat of the booth and turned his back to her. “Want to help me start the soup?”
She jumped on his back and the two disappeared into the kitchen. Thomas had always been so good with Trin—he’d been good with all of Janie’s siblings, for that matter.
Trinity’s laughter floated over from the kitchen. Janie had to get out of here, but it wasn’t like she could leave. The door that led to the adjoining storefront snagged her attention. It wasn’t as far away as she wanted, but maybe it was far enough.
“I’m going next door.” Janie wheeled the bucket to the door and undid the old latch. Stale air filled her lungs, and she coughed and blinked against the dim light. The old glass display counter, tin ceiling, and wrought-iron chairs with matching tables gave the place character, dirty or not. Too bad the little candy shop hadn’t made it. It would make a perfect bakery. If only she had the money.
Dust disturbed by her entrance swirled in a beam of sunlight that peeked from a tear in the butcher paper covering the front windows, and she sneezed. She unlocked the ornate wooden double doors that opened onto the street and stepped into the fresh spring air. A definite improvement.
She closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sun. June offered a welcome change.
“Nice day, isn’t it?”
She gave a small scream and jerked her head back down.
Nate stood on the sidewalk in a T-shirt, his hands in the pockets of his jeans as if he had all the time in the world. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No, I’m sorry. I don’t usually startle that easy.”
He shrugged, dismissing the apology. “I was actually looking for you. Would you consider leading a Bible study? I have a small group of junior high girls interested but can’t lead that myself.”
“Me?” She rubbed her dirty hands against her apron. Her words to Thomas filled her mind. Heritage isn’t bound to the genetic code. It’s what we give the next generation, whether by birth, adoption, or mentoring a kid in the community. It’s investing in others, and that investment is a choice.
Was this what she should do? “Truth is, I don’t know how long I’ll be here.”
“I don’t mean like dying.” A laugh bubbled up as she leaned against the door frame. “I don’t know if I’ll even be in Heritage by the end of the summer.”
His brows arched. “You’re moving?”
“I don’t want to, but I need a job.”
“A job?” Nate clutched at his chest. “Please tell me you aren’t going to stop making your pie. I think I’ve become addicted.”
“This is a temporary job to help out Don and Lucy. But when they’re back I doubt they can afford another full-time employee.”
“Make this a bakery.” Nate motioned to the dirty old shop behind her.
“Tempting. But that would be taking a big chance. I mean, the candy shop went bankrupt. And I’m not sure that Heritage eats enough cakes and pies to support a bakery either.”
“You’d just have to make a presence. I bet people would drive for many miles to get some of that pie.” He patted his stomach. “My stomach thinks it’s a great idea. But seriously, if it is really something you want, pray about it. Maybe God will start opening doors.”
Pray about it? Janie plopped down on the concrete step. “I’m not sure I trust my ability to hear God’s answer. Have you ever been so sure you knew what God had planned for you, only to be completely wrong? I prayed about . . . something. And I believed I knew what His plan was, yet it all fell apart.”
Nate eased down next to her, dropping his elbows on his knees. “I’m not sure if it’s always the end goal God has in mind as much as our willingness to follow Him on the journey no matter what happens.”
“Well, I did, and now I’m left with nothing.” She picked up a pebble and tossed it at the curb.
Nate leaned back and gazed across the field. “That’s a good place to be.”
She blinked at him. He had to be kidding.
He focused back on her and shrugged. “When you’ve got nothing left, that’s when you see how real your faith is. Faith with everything you want is easy. But faith when everything goes wrong? That’s when God alone has to be enough.”
Her head dropped in her hands. A year ago she’d thought she had everything she wanted, and now look at her. Job’s story from the Bible came to mind. “Kind of like Job. Except he had it worse.”
Nate clapped his hands together. “That’s it. Job. Good one. That’s a solid GP.”
“Grace point. You’ve mentioned that at church.”
He relaxed back on his hands again. “I’m not saying the Bible is a vending machine for life’s problems. But chances are if you’re in a tight spot, you’re not the first person to have that struggle or one much like it.”
Nate was quite different from their last pastor. “If Job is my GP, does that mean I get everything back better in the end?”
“Wouldn’t that be nice? But like I said, the Bible isn’t a quick-fix problem solver. You have to look at the bigger truths being told. Truths about the problems of humanity and truths about the unchanging God. In Job’s story, we see that God wasn’t afraid of what the enemy brought. He was with Job through it all. And after it was over, Job learned that God alone had to be enough.”
Janie stared across the field to Thomas’s house. Was God alone enough for her? Her Sunday school–saturated brain said yes. But would she be okay with never being married, never being a mother, never being a pastry chef?
The idea made it hard to breathe. But if she had to choose those dreams or God, she’d choose God 100 percent of the time. Because no matter how much she thought she knew what she wanted, only God knew what was best for her, and she still believed He had a plan.
Janie picked up a jagged chunk of cement that had broken off the step and tried to fit it back where it belonged. It refused to stay. “Do you think someone else could mess up God’s plan for my life?” She tossed the broken corner to the ground and dusted off her hands.
“‘Mess up’ isn’t the right word.” Nate pointed to the new field across the street. “That field wasn’t Hannah’s plan. I heard some grumblings about how Hannah had messed up. After all, the center of town was a pile of ash. But what do you see now?”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Exactly. The enemy is out to steal, kill, and destroy anything God has for us. But I also know that nothing surprises God. I know He hasn’t forgotten you. And I know that if you continue to make Him your first love, He’ll honor that. He has a way of making beautiful things out of piles of ash.”
No matter what Thomas did or didn’t do, God hadn’t forgotten her.
Nate picked up a small white rock and scratched a forty-five-degree angle across the concrete at the corner of the step. Then he handed the white rock to her and pointed to her broken corner. “We may never know what could have been. But let’s see what can be.”
Janie scratched a rough forty-five to match his, eliminating the broken corner and adding an attractive angle to the ends of the step.
“Pastor Nate! You’re here.” Trinity ran through the door. Her blonde pigtails swayed as she dropped her arms around Nate’s neck.
“Is that a bad thing?” He grabbed her hands and stood, pulled her onto his back, and started turning in circles. Trinity had every eligible bachelor in town wrapped around her little finger.
“No. I like you. You’re fun.” Trin giggled as she spun and then staggered when he set her down. “You should come to my house to visit. I think Olivia likes you.”
His face reddened as he laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, revealing another tattoo on his forearm.
“Trinity Rose.” Janie shot her sister a look. Nate and Olivia’s relationship, or lack thereof, seemed to be as mysterious as it was sensitive to both of them.
He pulled his keys from his pocket. “Think about the Bible study. And I’ll be praying that you open a bakery.” He patted his stomach again. “Uh . . . I mean, I’ll pray God gives you wisdom if you should open one.”
Janie laughed and offered a wave as he jogged across the street to his car. Maybe she’d pray that whatever was up with him and Olivia would work out too. She could get used to him as a brother-in-law.
Could she really open a bakery? She turned to survey the entire front. It would be so much work. And take so much money. She could lose everything.
Having nothing is a good place to be. Then God alone has to be enough.
Turning to Trinity, she lifted the girl’s pudgy hand. “Let’s get this place cleaned and see what it can be. What do you say?”
It had to be here. There was no other option. Hannah dug deeper into her purse, pushing aside her wallet and sunglasses. How could she have lost it? It wasn’t like that much money could hide behind her tube of lipstick. It wasn’t there. A chill ran down her body as she upended the entire purse, scattering the contents across the passenger seat.
Eighteen hundred forty-two dollars and seventy-six cents. She’d counted it that morning—twice. Aligned the bills in sequential order. Rolled the coins. She couldn’t have lost it.
Think. Where had she been?
She’d stopped by Luke’s, but he’d been at work so she’d gone to the diner for lunch. Then she’d driven straight here to the town hall to drop off the money. But it was gone. Just gone.
“Hey, Hannah darlin’.” The mayor’s voice boomed from outside the open car window. She jumped and spun to face him. “I heard the collection was a success.”
Hannah swallowed. “Yup.”
“Great. When you get it all counted, just drop it off to Marcy at the front desk.”
Should she tell him? No, she couldn’t tell him. “Sure thing.”
She offered a quick wave and threw her car into Reverse. The money had to turn up before anyone knew it was missing. How could almost two thousand dollars disappear? It might not be as much as the ten thousand her mom had taken, but it wouldn’t be long before everyone in town started connecting the dots. And when they did, they’d draw an arrow pointed directly at her.
She pulled in front of the diner and slid into the last open spot. Gathering the remains of her purse, she lifted her chin and walked toward the diner. Must appear casual.
Pushing through the door, Hannah halted as she took in the family filling up the booth where she’d eaten lunch. She could see from where she stood that there was no large blue envelope under the table. Great. She turned to Olivia walking by. “Did anyone turn in anything . . . lost?”
Olivia topped off a glass of water at the closest table before looking at Hannah. “Can you be more specific?”
“A blue envelope.”
Olivia filled the other two glasses at the booth. “Not that I know of, but I’ll ask around.”
Hannah leaned against an empty barstool. What would she do if she couldn’t find the money? She didn’t have two thousand dollars in her account to cover it.
Maybe Luke would know what to do.
Derek slid onto the stool next to her, draping his arm on the table behind her. “Hey, pretty lady. Mind if I join you?”
Hannah leaned away from him. “Actually—”
He held out a thumb drive and SD card in the palm of his hand. “Here are the photos Luke erased from your camera. I couldn’t get them all, though, only the stuff from the past five weeks.”
“Luke erased my photos?” Her hand tightened on the handle of her purse as she calculated what had been on that card. That meant all pre-fire pictures of the veteran houses were gone. Her stomach tightened. Those would be a bit hard to replace. She took them from his hand. “I can’t believe he didn’t tell me.”
It wasn’t like she’d have been mad. Okay, a little mad, but things happen. She stepped away from the stool, but the knit of her skirt snagged on a screw.
“Don’t take it so hard. He has a lot on his mind, with losing his house and all.”
Hannah tugged at her skirt, trying to free it. “What’re you talking about?”
Derek leaned back, crossing his arms in front of him. “Didn’t you hear? It turns out Old Lady Shoemaker’s will turned up in some box in a wall. It says that the house he was trying to buy was supposed to go to the town.”
Hannah’s movement stopped as every nerve went numb, then she slowly turned back to Derek. A box in a wall? The box she’d found? “But they can’t just take it from him.”
“My dad can offer a higher bid than Luke ever could. He’s anxious to get a few more businesses on the properties that line the square. He likes what you’ve done, even if you didn’t crash and burn like he hoped.”
“Crash and burn?”
“I mean, when he suggested the fire he figured you’d fail. I think he figured he’d come in and save the day with his big project.” He ran his finger along her arm. “But I knew you could pull it off.”
She jerked her arm back. “He suggested the fire? You promised you wouldn’t even talk to your dad about our meetings.”
Derek blinked. No doubt trying to come up with a quick lie.
She held up her hand. “You know what? I don’t care.”
“You’ve got it all wrong. I was—am on your side. But you impressed my dad and that isn’t easy to do. He now hopes to buy all the houses on Henderson Road.” He pointed out the window. The air cooled as thick clouds drifted over the sun, dimming the diner.
Did he not realize he was also talking about her childhood home? The guy was clueless. At least Thomas still had control of his house for the time being. But if Kensington bought Luke’s . . . She might be sick. “When did Luke find this out about the will?”
The last few days had been a blur and she hadn’t seen him much. Why had she let herself get so busy? Maybe she had a missed call. She checked her phone but only the black screen stared back. Dead battery again. Why could she never remember to charge her phone?
“My dad mentioned it a couple months ago, I guess.”
Hannah shook her skirt again until the ripping of the threads set it free. “A couple months ago?” Her voice climbed to an all-time high.
His lips lifted in a smirk. “Luke’ll figure something out. I think he’s said something about looking at houses in Muskegon.”
He wouldn’t leave without telling her first, would he? Flashbacks of her mother’s abrupt disappearance assaulted her mind. She’d been laughing with her mom in the kitchen one day, and the next day when she got home from school there had been nothing but a note saying goodbye.
Derek leaned a little closer. “You want to go out this Friday?”
Hannah squeezed the two small devices in her palm. “You’re a real jerk.”
Olivia appeared as Hannah approached the door. “No one has seen anything like that, Hannah. But we’ll let you know if something gets turned in.”
Right, the money. “Thanks.”
What in the world was she going to do? She needed to have a little talk with Luke, that’s what.
A blast of summer wind whipped her hair past her shoulders as she pushed from the diner. Why hadn’t he told her?
He’d known about the house for at least a couple months and hadn’t said a word. That was a long time. Long enough to be looking into moving. Long enough that many replayed conversations in her head seemed a lot more like lies. How long had her mom planned her escape before she ran? Her vision blurred as she stared at the devices in her hand.
He’d told her things would be different this time. She’d been a fool to believe him.
It had been two days and Luke still hadn’t heard anything from Derek. He’d left the guy three voicemails and dropped by his house. Nothing. Luke stretched his neck, wrapped his gloved hands around the edges of a sheet of three-quarter-inch plywood, and slid it into the bed of the pickup. It had been a long day and he’d clocked out twenty minutes ago, but when Mrs. Jameson had come in looking frustrated and lost, he couldn’t tell her no. He wiped the sleeve of his shirt across his forehead and reached for another sheet.
“Oh, thank you, Luke. Harold’s got some fancy project to do with his brother this weekend. I think Hannah Thornton has the whole town spiffing up. He never cared about the worn-out porch before.” Mrs. Jameson pulled her purse from the cart. “I can’t believe he asked me to pick this up. But I can tell you this, he’ll be the one to get it out.”
Luke slid the last one into the bed and closed the tailgate. “No problem, Mrs. Jameson. If he needs any help, have him give me a call.”
She waved at him as she slid into the truck.
As he drove through town, it looked like Mrs. Jameson had been right. The Mackerses seemed to have taken extra care with their front lawn, and the Fairs had hung a new sign at the mechanic shop. Hannah had lit a fire under the town—literally.
Luke pulled into his driveway and paused. A gray Tundra was parked in front of his house, and Alfred Mathis sat waiting on his porch. Why was the old police chief visiting him?
Luke took the steps two at a time and extended his hand. “Hey, Al. What can I do for you?”
The older gentleman stood, leaning on his cane, and motioned to the house with the briefcase he was holding. “Mind if we go and sit down?”
An unease settled in his joints. “Sure thing.” He unlocked the door and blocked Spitz from overwhelming their guest, then nudged the dog toward the back door. “I’ll be just a minute. He needs to go out.”
“I see you’re doing some updating.” Al followed him into the kitchen. “Mrs. Shoemaker lived here a very long time. I’m not sure she updated much.”
Was Al here about the will? Luke pulled two bottles of water from the fridge and held one out. “Thirsty?”
“No, thank you.” Al set his briefcase on the table and popped it open. “I’m here because Hannah asked me to find out about your family.”
Luke’s bottle of water paused halfway to his mouth. “My family?” The bottle shook in his hand, and he set it on the counter. Hannah had gone behind his back? She just had to fix the situation. Fix him. He would never be enough for her as he was. Luke leaned forward and gripped the table with his hands.
“I called Hannah but it went straight to voicemail. And after what I found, I didn’t want to delay getting this information to you any longer.” Al pulled a file from his case and stared at it. “I was on the police force then. I should’ve put it together. But my wife’s death was the month before and I wasn’t on top of my game.” The man’s voice cracked.
His wife’s death? What did this have to do with Luke’s family?
“When you and your father moved into town . . . I never made the connection. The Chicago PD had his picture everywhere. But the paperwork your dad had was good. Real good. And he’d shaved his beard, which can change a man’s looks, you know?” Al gazed at the file and shook his head.
What was he talking about? Did he say Chicago PD? “Are you saying my dad was wanted by the police?”
Al held out the file. “Maybe it would be best if you read the report. I did my best to be thorough.”
Luke had always wanted to know something about his father, but this? A criminal with an APB out on him? It didn’t get much worse than that. His lifelong hope of finding out about his history now seemed like a cruel joke.
Al stood, leaning heavily on his cane. “I’ll leave this file on the table for when you’re ready. If you have questions, call me. I’ll need to contact Chicago so they can close this case, but I can give you a few days before I do.”
Luke had been staring at the closed file unseeing for who knew how long when Hannah stormed in, her hazel eyes shooting fire. She was mad? Really? She had no idea what mad was.
She dropped a thumb drive and an SD card on the table. “Want to tell me about this? Or about the fact you’re losing your home? Or house shopping in Muskegon?”
He slammed his hand down on the table where the file still rested. “Why don’t you tell me why you hired a PI when I told you not to?”
Hannah’s face paled. “He gave the file to you? What does it say?”
She reached for it but he didn’t move his hand. “My dad was a criminal, wanted in Chicago. How’s that for news?”
Her eyes widened as she reached a hand to his arm. “Oh, Luke—”
“I don’t want your pity.” If he’d thought he wasn’t good enough before, looking at her face at this moment sealed the deal.
Hannah’s eyes hardened. “Is that why you didn’t tell me about your house? You don’t want my pity? It’s not pity, it’s concern. It may be hard for you to believe, but people in this town care what happens to you, Luke. I care what happens to you.”
“No, you want to rescue me like you rescued Spitz, like you’re trying to rescue this town.”
She flinched at his words but held her ground. “Don’t push me away. You said it would be different this time.”
Luke grabbed the file and waved it in the air. “Yeah, well, I thought I could trust you.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “If you trusted me you wouldn’t be hiding stuff from me.”
Him? She was blaming this on him?
“Like hiring a PI wasn’t hiding stuff from me?” Luke flung the file across the counter, spilling the contents a bit. A print of the photo of him and his dad peeked out. How had Al gotten—unless . . .
Hannah’s ashen face proclaimed her guilt. She had gone through his stuff when he wasn’t home.
Her hand shook as she held it up. “I’m sorry, Luke. But Al had said—”
“Don’t.” Luke’s harsh word sliced through the room, causing her to jump. His hands gripped the back of the chair with enough force his palms ached.
She drew a breath as if drawing courage. “What else did he find out?”
If she’d been unsure of him when she hadn’t known his history, the details of his father’s criminal past didn’t matter.
“You said you wouldn’t give up on us this time.” She laid her hand on his arm.
Him give up? She’d shattered what they had, didn’t she see that?
He stepped away from her touch. “I think you need to go.”
Hannah reached down and grabbed the SD card and thumb drive from the table. “I’ll go now so you can calm down, but this isn’t over.” With the slam of the door, she was gone.
But it was over.
Luke didn’t move until his phone rang. “Hello?”
“Hey, Luke, this is Chief Grandy.”
Luke stiffened. “Afternoon, sir.”
“This wasn’t an easy decision. We consider you a valuable part of the community and hope we can still count on your volunteer service. But we’ve decided to hire someone else.”
Luke’s stomach tightened. So that was that. “May I ask who?”
“We hired Nate Williams. The new pastor.”
Everything in Luke went numb. Nate? Not that Nate wasn’t a great guy—he was. But he had lived in Heritage less than a year. He had come in and managed to achieve something in a year that Luke hadn’t accomplished in the twenty years he’d lived here. Acceptance.
Luke nodded and struggled to find his voice. “Good choice, sir.” He ended the call and tossed his phone aside.
Hannah.
The house.
The job.
No reason left to stay.
Luke pushed out the side door. Thomas stood by his house with a rake in hand. “I was working on the yard.”
“So you heard everything?”
Thomas didn’t answer.
“And you know they hired Nate?”
Thomas nodded once.
“Can you watch Spitz for me? I need to . . . go.”
“Where?” Thomas set the yard tools down and leaned on the rail.
The gazebo still sat unfinished, but Nate could finish that. “Away from Heritage. I need to clear my head.”
“Are you sure?”
“If something comes up, I’ll have my cell. But I won’t be answering it for the most part.” Luke headed back toward his house. “Tell Nate congrats for me. I mean it. He’ll do a great job.”
Luke marched directly to his room and started filling his duffel bag. Was he sure? Was he sure there was nothing left for him in Heritage?
Yeah, he was pretty sure.