Rekindling The Widower's Heart

When the call was picked up on the other end, Garrett immediately launched in. “Hey, cuz. I’m helping our summer youth volunteer get moved in to Charlie and Emma’s old place and— What? Yeah, right. You let that slip by you?” Garrett chuckled. “You’ll appreciate that she’ll be keeping teens with too much time on their hands out of trouble. Anyway, the microwave downstairs isn’t working.”

Delaney watched as Garrett paused to listen intently, then he gave her a thumbs-up before pocketing his phone. “He’s on his way.”

Anticipation mingled with apprehension. “I hope he doesn’t think I’m going to be a nuisance.”

Garrett shrugged. “Being pestered is good for him. Gets him out of his comfort zone.”

Having moved back to the main room to wait for Luke, the door standing open to admit the scent of sun-warmed pine, they again marveled at their providential good fortune. Only last Sunday evening Garrett had been in contact with her aunt’s pastor in Canyon Springs—who happened to know of Delaney’s availability for a summer position.

“I can hardly believe the perfect timing,” Delaney concluded. “With Aunt Jen’s health in question, I needed an excuse to stick relatively close by this summer.”

“Believe me, we’re more than happy to have you here.”

“I’m glad. And thanks for helping me carry in my stuff.”

Garrett glanced at the suitcase, sleeping bag and boxes by the door. “This isn’t everything you have, is it?”

“It’s all I could cram in my car to bring over this afternoon. The apartment in Sacramento was furnished, so I’ll be borrowing furniture from my aunt and friends in Canyon Springs. I do have a few more boxes, clothes and my bicycle.”

“I’m sure folks here at the church will be happy to loan you whatever else you may need. As I’d mentioned earlier, with our youth intern forced to pull out at the last minute, you’ll be considered an answered prayer.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” said the low, mellow voice of the pastor’s cousin, carrying from the open door. “Better plan on a few disgruntled looks when Delaney is introduced on Sunday rather than David.”

She turned to Luke with a laugh, trusting his comment was teasing, even though his tone didn’t reflect that. “I hope no one is too disappointed.”

He shrugged, unsmiling. “You never know.”

Okay, maybe he wasn’t teasing.

“Disappointed?” Garrett shot his cousin an aggravated look. “Not a chance.”

“I’m giving her fair warning.” Luke leaned a broad shoulder against the doorjamb and crossed his arms. “Last Sunday you were singing the praises of that college kid, claiming he’d be a big draw for the local teens with his background in biblical studies and enthusiasm for outdoor sports. You got the boys fired up that he was big into hiking and mountain biking.”

Luke cut an apologetic glance at Delaney as if to acknowledge it was no fault of hers that her only claim to fame was making jewelry. Then his eyes narrowed in speculation as he directed a pointed look at his cousin.

Garrett merely offered a serene smile. “God moves in mysterious ways.”

“Right.” Luke pushed away from the door. “Now let’s take a look at that microwave problem.”

He strode to the back of the building, Delaney almost scampering behind him, eager to explain why his afternoon had been interrupted.

“Pastor McCrae—I mean, Garrett—attempted to warm a mug of peppermint tea, but—”

“Peppermint tea?” With a glance in Garrett’s direction, Luke raised disbelieving brows.

The pastor only shrugged, his impish smile unapologetic.

“Anyway,” Delaney continued, wanting Luke to get the full story, “when he put the mug in the microwave and pressed the start button, nothing happened.”

“Zip,” Garrett confirmed. “I told Delaney there’s probably a trick to it. A secret knock or something.”

Luke took a slow breath, his tone dry. “There’s a trick to it all right.”

Garrett cast Delaney an I-told-you-so look.

Squatting in front of the wooden microwave cart, Luke reached underneath. Then he pulled out a length of electrical cord, waved the plug end at his cousin and poked it in the wall outlet.

“Well, what do you know?” Garrett laughed, not the least bit embarrassed.

But she was. Heat scorched her cheeks. Luke probably thought her a total airhead. Why hadn’t she taken a look herself before Garrett called him? “I’m sorry. It didn’t even dawn on me that it might not be plugged in.”

Luke looked down at her, a faint light of amusement in his eyes. “No problem. It’s my fault. I forgot Uncle Mac would have unplugged everything when the tenant vacated last fall. A safety precaution. Usually new renters don’t move in fifteen minutes after they sign the lease, so there’d normally be time to get everything hooked up and the refrigerator cooling.”

He ran his hand roughly through his hair in an almost weary gesture—again confirming he had more important things on his mind. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll plug in the rest of the appliances down here and in the loft.”

Garrett playfully punched him in the shoulder. “This is something you couldn’t have told me over the phone, cuz?”

Luke drew back. “Are you kidding? And miss an opportunity to publicly demonstrate the shortcomings of our good pastor?”

“He lives for that,” Garrett acknowledged with a smile in Delaney’s direction. “But all’s well that ends well, right?”

Luke moved past her to the refrigerator, his height seeming even more imposing in the confined space.

“Hey, while you’re in a Boy Scout frame of mind...” Garrett stepped in to assist in pulling the large appliance away from the wall. “Delaney has furniture and more boxes to bring over from Canyon Springs. Do you think you and that big pickup of yours could help her out?”

Luke glanced up from where he’d plugged in the fridge, then slowly rose to his feet. “Now?”

“No, not now,” Delaney quickly inserted, catching the reluctance in his tone. “Besides, I can always recruit someone from Canyon Springs.”

Garrett helped push the now-humming refrigerator back into place. “Luke can do it. When would work best for you, Delaney?”

“Today’s Thursday. So tomorrow, maybe? Or Saturday? Before Sunday evening, if possible.” But she wasn’t convinced that her new landlord was buying into the volunteer gig. “The youth group can always sit on the floor, but it will be more relaxing with a few comfy chairs and a sofa. I’d rather not resort to folding chairs. They’re too stiff and formal.”

Kids didn’t much care for being rowed up or in a too-rigid circle. As she remembered from her own youth group days and as a high school youth leader when in college, a casual setting would be more conducive to building relationships and drawing out participation.

Garrett’s eyes brightened. “Awesome idea. This place is perfect.”

“You want the kids to meet here?” Luke’s disapproval of her plan was clearly evident. “What’s wrong with the fellowship hall where they usually meet?”

Garrett gave his cousin an incredulous look. “The remodel, remember? It starts Monday and the place will be torn up for weeks. This is much better than resorting to a Sunday school classroom.”

“But—”

Garrett turned to Delaney, cutting Luke off. “I don’t have any objections. This place is spacious and centrally located. The kids will love it. I’ll get the word out.”

Luke pinned Garrett with a doubtful look. “Don’t you think you should run it by the church board first?”

“Mmm...” Garrett narrowed his eyes as if in deep thought, then shook his head. “No.”

An unsmiling Luke wagged a finger at him. “One of these days, buddy, you’re going to overstep your bounds as an interim pastor and find yourself shown the door.”

Interim pastor? He wasn’t the real deal? Had he overstepped his bounds by bringing her on board two days ago?

Unfazed, Garrett grinned as he pulled out his cell phone and read an incoming text message. “You’d be leading the lynch mob, I assume?”

“Guarantee it.”

Garrett held up his phone. “Hey, looks like I’m late for a meeting. I’ll leave you two here to work out details for the move. Think you can handle that, Luke, without causing too much trauma to your schedule?”

* * *

“I can handle it.” Luke gave Garrett a steady look as he walked him to the door, Delaney trailing along behind.

The pup was getting way too big for his britches these days and, as usual, he was doing his best to push his older cousin’s buttons. To Luke’s irritation, Garrett maintained, as did the rest of the extended family, that he spent too much time working at Hunter Ridge Enterprises. And seeing to the never-ending needs of his kids.

Like it was any of their business. Little did they know that if all went well, he’d soon be out from under their scrutiny.

But why was Garrett fobbing off the youth volunteer on him? The way he was all smiles and bending over backwards to accommodate her this afternoon—peppermint tea?—it appeared he intended to keep her to himself. Then again, maybe the interim pastor of Christ’s Church didn’t see him as competition for the much younger lady’s attention. It reminded him of a situation when, as a kid, Garrett had left a favored toy in the protective custody of their aged grandpa.

With a wave of his hand, Garrett headed out the door. “I’ll take a rain check on that tea, Delaney. But stop by my office tomorrow morning and we’ll get the paperwork completed.”

As soon as he’d departed, she spun toward Luke, her expression uncertain. “Please don’t feel obligated to help me move because your cousin is...pushy.”

She thought Garrett was pushy? Perceptive. “I don’t mind. It’s just—”

“That you’re a big boy and prefer making your own decisions?” Mischief lit her eyes and, in response, he felt the tug of his own somewhat rusty smile.

“I’ve done that for quite a few years.”

For ten more than she had.

“It’s bad enough that you had to come over here to plug in a microwave.” For a moment she covered her face with her hands, her expressive eyes peeping at him from between ringed fingers. “How embarrassing.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. Like I said, it’s my fault. And if I hadn’t wanted to rib Garrett in person, I could have enlightened him over the phone.” But if he’d told him over the phone, he wouldn’t be standing here right now talking to their pretty new tenant. Had that possibility played a part in his decision to see to the microwave in person?

Naw. He’d wanted only to give his cousin a hard time. He’d take care of business here and be on his way. Chloe, his youngest, would be arriving any time now and expect him to be at the office after school on a Thursday afternoon.

He gave Delaney a reassuring nod. “I’ll take care of the appliances upstairs and make sure things are in order with the hot water heater and the furnace. It gets chilly around here some nights.”

“I’ve always loved that about Arizona mountain country.” She opened her arms wide as if to encompass the world around her, a spontaneous gesture he’d observed earlier when she’d claimed the rental property as her own. “You regulate how cool you want to be by how wide you open a window.”

“You said you were originally from Canyon Springs?”

She shrugged. “I moved there when I was fourteen.”

Something flickered through her eyes and he sensed a story untold. But he wouldn’t press her for details. The less he knew about their new tenant’s personal life, the better off he’d be. Although...if she’d be hanging out with Anna and Travis and the youth group this summer, it might be worthwhile to get to know her better. A parent had to be proactive these days when it came to who you allowed to influence your kids. Delaney was awfully young to be taking on responsibility for the group.

He cleared his throat. “So, how would tomorrow afternoon work for you to retrieve the rest of your belongings?”

She tilted her head. “You’re sure?”

“I’m good with it. After lunch? I could pick you up at one o’clock.” If Garrett couldn’t tag along to help with the sofa, he’d get one of his friends in the neighboring town to assist, then recruit another family member back here to unload.

“I’ll be ready. And thanks.”

“No problem. But I guess I’d better finish up and get on out of here so you can get settled in.” He turned away, intending to head to the loft, then tensed as he glimpsed a colorful flier atop Delaney’s luggage by the door. He motioned toward it. “Where’d you get that?”

“What?” She turned to see what he was referring to. “Oh. I found that tucked in my door. Haven’t even looked at it yet.”

She picked it up. Flipped it over. “It looks as if someone plans to run for town council. There’s a preliminary campaign gathering Monday night.”

Someone intended to run for an opening on the town council all right. Sunshine Carston. An outspoken young woman who settled in town a couple of years ago and rallied a growing number of local artists to take a more active role in the community. She’d been a thorn in the side of quite a few longtime Hunter Ridge residents.

He slipped the flier from Delaney’s fingers and glanced down at the photograph of the woman who would be his mother’s probable opponent this coming fall. An attractive, eloquent young woman but, oh, what a pain in the neck at times.

“One word of advice, Delaney.”

The blonde stared up at him with a slight frown. “And what would that be?”

“If you want the kind of summer you’re hoping for, steer clear of local politics.”

A dimple surfaced in her smooth cheek, the frown evaporating. “That bad, huh?”

“Could be.” He returned the flier and she folded it in half before tossing it back to the top of the suitcase.

“I assure you that while I do my civic duty at the polls, I’ve never been interested much in politics. However...” She flashed him a smile that forced his heart rate up a notch. “Should you decide to run against Miss Sunshine there, I might consider joining your team.”

Warmth heated the back of his neck. Was she only teasing? Flirting again? He was so out of practice with that sort of stuff. Local ladies had long ago given up the chase, which suited him fine. He had no intention of sticking around Hunter Ridge much longer anyway.

He took a step back. “Thanks for the vote of support, but no politicking for me.”

She didn’t look surprised at his statement, only amused. With effort, he drew his gaze from hers.

“Guess I’ll get things checked out here and be on my way.”

But he’d barely started up the stairs to the loft when a dog barked from the open door behind him and a much-loved voice called out.

“We found you, Daddy!”

With a grin, he reached the bottom of the staircase before eight-year-old Chloe, raced forward to launch herself into his arms for a welcoming hug. He laughed as he scooped up the dark-haired girl and she planted a kiss on his cheek. It was the highlight of his day. “You’ve missed me?”

“Uh-huh. This much.” With a giggle he never tired of hearing, her arms tightened around his neck and she gave him another kiss.

That’s when he caught sight of Delaney standing off to the side, an uncertain look coloring her expression.

“Delaney? I want you to meet my daughter, Chloe.” He didn’t try to keep the pride out of his voice. “Chloe, this is Delaney Marks. She’s going to be living in here this summer.”

“Good to meet you, Chloe.” Delaney reached out her hand and his little girl shyly shook it.

Then, a frown puckering her forehead, Chloe looked around the open space. “Why don’t you have furniture?”

Delaney laughed, catching his eye. “I’ll have furniture just as soon as your dad helps me move it in.”

Chloe looked at him solemnly. “You’d better get busy, Daddy.”

“I guess so. And I guess we’d better get going as soon as I check a few things out upstairs.” He lowered his daughter to the floor and set her on her feet. “Homework tonight?”

She shook her head, not meeting his gaze.

Likely story. “Homework tonight?”

She started to shake her head again, then giggled and nodded, reaching out to clasp his hand in both of hers as she looked up at him mischievously.

“You don’t need to check the appliances upstairs,” Delaney said, drawing his attention again. “Despite recent evidence to the contrary, I’m perfectly capable of poking plugs into outlets.”

He couldn’t help but smile. “So you say.”

“If I run into any unforeseen difficulties, I know where to find you, right?”

Her words sounded flirtatious enough, but had the interest he thought he’d recognized earlier diminished somewhat since the arrival of his child?

“That you do,” he confirmed, irritated that he longed to ignite the spark in her gaze once again.

“Well, then?” She made a sweeping motion toward the door. “Be on your way.”

Yes, on his way. And the farther he stayed from Delaney Marks the better.

Chapter Three

Daddy. The next morning when she crawled out of her sleeping bag in the loft, Delaney was still chiding herself for being surprised her new landlord was a parent. Luke was older than her and an attractive, seemingly nice man. It wouldn’t be unexpected for him to have been in a serious relationship. To have a kid.

But the no ring thing had thrown her off.

Was he a widower? Divorced? Either could account for the apparent sadness she’d glimpsed earlier in his eyes—a look that evaporated with the arrival of Chloe.

Even now, chatting on the phone with her closest friend early Sunday evening while awaiting the arrival of the youth group, Delaney couldn’t stop thinking about Luke Hunter. About how he’d scooped the squealing child into his arms with a smile that transformed his already handsome features. Brought him to life.

“Actually, I’m not too swamped with wedding preparations to keep me from popping over to see your new place.” Paris Perslow’s voice carried over the phone with a surprisingly carefree lilt for someone who was only weeks away from her wedding day. Most brides were a bundle of nerves at this point. “Like I said, we’re keeping things simple, which is why you’re my only attendant this time. Too bad Cody’s best man is married.”

“Believe me, that’s for the best.” Delaney’s relationship with coworker Dwayne Moorley, like her job in Sacramento, had expired only weeks ago. This morning when drying her hair, she’d firmly reminded herself that although the outcome of their time spent together the past two years was disappointing, another unforeseen loss in her life, she wouldn’t look back. In retrospect, she’d stayed in the relationship much too long, for reasons she was only now coming to fully understand.

“You’re well rid of that guy,” Paris continued as if reading her thoughts, ever loyal since a grieving Delaney, several years her junior, had arrived in Canyon Springs all those years ago. “He’s way too controlling, thinking it’s up to him to not only run his life, but yours, too. I’m beyond relieved you’ll be my maid of honor without him showing up in my wedding photos.”

“I, too, am delighted to save you from that blot on your special day.” Delaney restlessly rose from the borrowed sofa to peep out a street-facing window where the sun cast lengthening shadows across the road. Movement caught her eye and hope sparked as she angled for a closer look. Was that activity in front of the Hunter Enterprises office? Yes. But, unfortunately, no one she knew. Only a handful of people who’d paused outside to visit.

She hadn’t so much as caught a glimpse of Luke since he’d left with his daughter on Thursday. At their agreed-upon time Friday afternoon, two young men identifying themselves as cousins of Luke arrived with a pickup truck, offering an apology on his behalf.

How silly to be disappointed at the substitution. She was too old for crushes. Besides, even if Luke was a free agent, so to speak, an eight-year-old came with the package. So it was just as well.

“You are getting your jewelry into the Hunter Ridge Artists’ Co-op, aren’t you?”

Paris’s words drew her back to the present. “It’s not a sure thing. I have an appointment on Monday to present samples of my work. So say a prayer that they’ll like what they see.”

“They will. I absolutely love the earrings you made for me.”

“I know Hunter Ridge’s art community is small, not anything like Sedona, Jerome or Santa Fe, but if I can get my foot in the door here, it’ll be a start. Hopefully, one that will encourage Aunt Jen to see my artistic leanings in a more positive light.”

“I saw her at church this morning.” Paris’s words came cautiously. “I don’t think she looks well.”

“I don’t think she does, either. But she insists she’s fine and is mad at me for taking the church position so I can stick around in case she needs me. She says the longer I’m unemployed, the more unemployable I’ll become.”

Which might well be true. But when her parents, widowed grandmother and younger sister had been killed in a car accident, her childless aunt and uncle had opened their home to her. Not too many years later, Uncle Del died in a boating accident, so how could she not be there for her aunt now?

“Well, I think you’ve made the right decision, Delaney. She’s obviously not her usual self.”

When the conversation ended with a reiteration of Paris’s promise to visit soon, Delaney pocketed her cell phone and returned to the seating area. She had things remaining to be unpacked, but the open space now held a welcoming touch with soft lamplight and fat flickering candles rowed up on top of the woodstove. She’d arranged comfy, oversize throw pillows around the area for additional seating and, keeping the teenagers in mind, subs, chips and veggie sticks were on the coffee table.

Her introduction at the church service had gone well. Or at least she assumed so since no one had booed or thrown rotten eggs as Luke had led her to anticipate. But he and his daughter were nowhere to be seen that morning.

She straightened a stack of napkins, then stepped back to look around the room. She already loved this place, the openness of it and the way the sun shone through a fixed window at the front, above the porch. How the ponderosa pine branches cast moving shadows across the polished wooden floor.

Would the kids enjoy coming here?

And how would they respond to the annual summer project she’d chosen for them? With the help of Lois Grant, the women’s ministry leader at the church, and a thumbs-up from Pastor McCrae, she’d quickly committed to an undertaking that was already near and dear to her heart. One that without a doubt had God’s seal of approval, too.

“Delaney?”

With a sense of anticipation, she turned as the pastor of Christ’s Church and a handful of teens stepped through the door. Introductions were quickly made. Brothers Kendrick and Nelson Bennett, both redheaded and freckle-faced, towered over her though they were probably not much older than sixteen. Curly-haired Sybil, her eyes rimmed in black as dark as her obviously colored tresses, wandered the room with interest, and “Scottie” Scott, a petite brunette with a pixie haircut, immediately made herself at home as well.

But Anna—a ponytailed, tomboyish-looking blonde dressed in well-worn Levi’s, a striped knit top and Western boots—hung slightly back. Unlike the other teenage girls, her face was devoid of makeup but, nevertheless, a natural prettiness was clearly evident. Hunter, she’d said her last name was. Could half the town be somehow related?

Fifteen minutes later, when the group grew to a dozen teenagers chatting and meaningfully eyeing the food, Garrett clapped his hands to draw their attention.

“Let’s give God thanks and dig in.”

A murmur of agreement rippled among the young people and, following Garrett’s prayer, they loaded their plates.

That’s when she saw them in the doorway.

Without a doubt they were father and son, although the younger’s darker hair, parted in the middle, lay in unruly layers down to his shoulders. As tall as his father standing beside him, the lankier, sullen-eyed teen brushed by the older man to saunter over to the seating area where he plopped down on the couch beside Scottie. Bare legs outstretched from his baggy, below-the-knee shorts and feet encased in leather sandals, he cast his father a you-can-leave-any-time-now stare. Then he deliberately slid his arm around the girl next to him and pulled her close.