At Home in His Heart (8 page)

She hadn’t intended to disappoint her. LeAnne, despite their differences, meant so much to her. As Keith’s mom, but also as a friend. Sure, they’d gotten off to a rough start, but after his death Sandi had always known, without fail, there would be someone to share an otherwise empty evening. Then when back in Paradise Valley, LeAnne never failed to call on Friday nights to check in on her. Make sure she was okay.

But maybe the connection was as much for LeAnne as it was for her?

Composing herself, she stuffed her cell phone in her purse. Once the customers were checked out, she stepped onto the covered porch that faced Main Street, again noticing how
traffic had picked up as desert temperatures a few hours to the south reached well beyond the hundred-degree mark.

A massive RV pulling a car rumbled down the hard-topped road in front of her, probably heading to Bill Diaz’s Lazy D Campground and RV Park or one of the other woodsy retreats in the off-the-beaten-path community.

“Good to see them back, isn’t it?”

With a start, she spun in the direction of the familiar male voice.

S
andi’s heart lifted inexplicably as, with a tilt of his Western hat, Bryce joined her on the plank-floored porch, his muscular arm motioning to the big “land whale” passing by. He grew up here, understood how important summer revenue was to the town.

So he
should
understand how important it was to the museum.

“Visitors are still sparse compared to some years,” she pointed out, tamping down her uncharitable thoughts. Being upset about LeAnne and Keith made her more susceptible than usual to negativity, especially when it came to Bryce. “But it’s a start. Feels like a carnival’s come to town. A little one anyway. Hopefully with extra cash in its pockets.”

Bryce nodded agreement, oblivious to her inner turmoil. “You’re working this afternoon?”

“Yes. Why? Are you
still
hunting for a patch kit? I told you weeks ago to go to Pinetop-Lakeside, didn’t I?”

He scrubbed a hand along his bearded jaw, a smile tugging. “Yes, you did. But Grandma Mae sent me down here to pick up Anasazi beans for dinner tonight. Corn bread mix, too.”

Even with their origins dating back to the ancient Indians of the same name, she’d never heard of that type of bean until
she moved to Arizona. “Well, at least those items are something we do have in stock.”

He swept off his hat and motioned her toward the entrance. “Shall we, then?”

She hesitated, then led the way into the shadowed interior of the two-story, stone-fronted building. As always, she found herself drawn to the ambiance of the beamed-ceiling space. The wooden floors. Navajo rugs adorning the walls. A lingering scent of smoke from the cast-iron woodstove.

“Is Gina still hanging on to her hat?”

Pausing at the dried goods shelf, she pulled out a bag of the sweet, nutty beans, their distinctive red-and-white markings showing clearly through the packaging. “She won’t let that cap out of her sight. She even sleeps with it now.”

“She can be mighty proud of the man who wore it.”

Her gaze flickered to his. “Yes, she can.”

Self-consciously she moved farther down the aisle and pointed to a rectangular box. “Is this the corn bread mix Mae’s looking for?”

“Seeing as how it’s the only brand in stock, I’m guessing it is.” He reached for it with a beleaguered grunt. “If it’s not, I guarantee you she’ll send me right back to exchange it.”

“Poor baby,” she found herself saying with an almost teasing lilt as they walked side by side to the checkout counter. “But I get the impression you’d be more than happy to make another trip to the Warehouse for her, wouldn’t you?”

A flash of alarm lit his gaze, then extinguished just as abruptly. What was that about?

“You’re right. There’s nothing on the planet I wouldn’t do for that woman, that’s for sure.”

“Mae’s fortunate to have you here,” she said, ringing up the grocery items. Mae, always a cheerful sort, seemed even happier since his return. “Which reminds me, thanks for fixing the faucet and the miniblinds. I come in almost every day and
feel like I’m living a fairy tale. You know, where the brownies and elves slip in overnight to do their thing?”

He squinted one eye. “I think I’m a little too big to qualify for an elf, don’t you?”

She let an amused gaze rove over him, picturing him with pointy ears and boots curled up at the toes. “A supersize one maybe?”

He grinned as he paid her, then glanced almost reluctantly at his watch. “Well, I better get moving. Grandma will want to get started on dinner early so I don’t miss my meeting.”

“What meeting would that be?” Surely a community forum like she’d be attending wouldn’t hold any appeal for him.

His forehead creased. “City council. Special assembly.”

“I didn’t know you took an interest in the inner workings of Canyon Springs government.”

He studied her for a long moment. “There are lots of things you don’t know about me, Sandi Bradshaw.”

He winked, tipped his hat and headed to the door.

Whew. For a second there when she got that bright look in her eye and said she imagined he wouldn’t mind another trip to the Warehouse, he thought—well, he wasn’t quite sure what he thought. Except that maybe
she
thought he was making up excuses to come down there to see her.

At least things didn’t seem so tense between them now. And thinking back, she didn’t tell him what to do about anything, either. That was progress. Maybe they could coexist in the same town after all. He’d actually found himself relaxing in her presence, although she’d seemed surprised that he might have an interest in city government. Like that was too intellectual for him?

What she didn’t know, though, was that he had a personal stake in tonight’s proceedings, that he waited to hear word on that firefighting opening that had been put on hold months
ago. The new budget could be a deal breaker. The fire chief was certain he’d be a shoo-in for the position, but if the funding didn’t come through…

How long could he keep things together in Canyon Springs for himself and Grandma without a decent-paying job? Early on in his army career he hadn’t been a diligent saver except for a sizable cut faithfully sent home to Grandma Mae. It would cost tens of thousands to remodel the lower floor of her house. To make it handicapped accessible. From what he’d seen while prowling around the place this week, it needed all new wiring and plumbing, too, not just a cosmetic makeover.

“Bryce!”

Just as he crossed Main Street, he looked up to see Joe Diaz, Meg’s husband, headed in his direction. An ex-navy guy and now a regional paramedic, he and Bryce had known each other in school. While Joe had a longer history with God, he’d recently deepened that connection. So the two men were on more even ground than what Bryce felt with some other churchgoing guys.

“How’s life, bud?” Joe thrust out his hand for a shake.

“Decent. Yourself?”

“Keeping busy. Hey, are you joining the Bible study this summer? It’s just getting under way. Great opportunity to get to know some rock-solid men who’ll hold you accountable. You know, Proverbs 27:17. Iron-sharpening-iron stuff.”

“Not sure I’d fit in. This is all pretty new to me. My background isn’t—”

“Hey, we all started right where you are.”

But he had more baggage than most.

Joe adjusted the ball cap on his head. “Do what you want. But it’s what I need right now. Man-to-man stuff. Keeps me moving in the right direction.”

“You’re married, though. Have a kid.”

“So? Until last March I was single again after my first wife
died. Several years on my own. I know the challenges of single life firsthand. So give it some thought.”

Bryce nodded. He could promise that much, but no more.

“Say,” Joe continued, “if you don’t have other plans, drop by our place tonight. Kara Dixon and Trey Kenton are coming over for dinner. Meg’s whipping up a batch of my dad’s homemade salsa. We’d love to have you join us.”

Bryce held up his grocery bag. “Thanks, but I have supper right here, compliments of Grandma.”

Joe laughed. “I can’t compete with your granny’s home cooking. But how about next weekend? We’re getting together at Casey Lake for a barbecue with some old pals and their significant others.”

“That’s doable.”

“Great. Saturday night. Six o’clock. Bring a date if you want to.”

Bryce grimaced.

Grinning, Joe punched him playfully in the shoulder. “You don’t have to. But I’m giving you warning that if you show up stag, you’re fair game for my wife’s matchmaking schemes and I won’t be held responsible.”

“Thanks for the heads-up.”

“Anytime. That’s what friends are for. See you then.”

Bryce headed for home, his thoughts troubled. Joe’s wife, Meg, was a real sweetheart. He’d worked with her on the parsonage remodel last winter, but he’d deliberately steered clear of single women the past several years. That seemed the best plan for the time being. He still had lots to figure out about how God’s men were supposed to think and act. How New Bryce was expected to behave. So he sure didn’t need Meg telling him what to do about his nonexistent love life.

Besides, he didn’t know any single women he could ask to join him at the cookout.

Except Sandi.

And that wasn’t going to happen.

“As an educator and a parent,” Sandi concluded, weak-kneed as she stood before a wall-to-wall crowd in the city hall building, “I believe it’s vital that the heritage of our children be supported and preserved. It’s up to us to anchor them. Connect them to their roots—their inheritance. To show them that we are proud of who we are in Canyon Springs. And that they can be proud, too.”

The room erupted in applause and cheers, a gavel pounding to bring the meeting back to order. A tingling sensation raced up her spine as she again found her seat, clasped her hands to still their trembling. At least she hadn’t burst into tears when it was announced funding for the museum would be discontinued. Somehow she’d managed to rise to her feet when called upon to speak.

She’d agreed with the need for cutbacks and responsible spending. Had pointed out that while the amount provided for supplementing museum operations was a drop in the bucket of the city’s budget deficit, it made up a significant portion of the museum’s means of livelihood. She made it clear that the future of the museum during this economic downturn was in serious question—especially combined with the rent increase set to go into effect.

She’d caught Bryce’s eye at that point—and his frown when others followed the trajectory of her gaze. Now she avoided looking at him, remembering how she hadn’t told him she was coming to the meeting, even when he’d mentioned he intended to. Did he think she’d been deceptive? Set an ambush for him?

She shifted uncomfortably as the council spokesman moved on to the next item on the budget-balancing agenda. Library fines up by a cent. An increase in parks and rec use fees as well as on insufficient funds checks written to the city. A
possible parking charge at Casey Lake. Escalating specialevent liquor license rates. Installing meters along Main Street was now under consideration, as well.

With the uproar ensuing from that handful of issues, the plight of the museum was quickly forgotten. Sandi slipped from the packed room unnoticed, down the stairs and into the cool night air.

Heart pounding, she leaned back against the stone facade and closed her eyes. She’d done what she could. But it didn’t look hopeful even though before the night was over there would be, as always, accusations of financial mismanagement and battle cries to “cut the fat” at the top levels of city government. Counteraccusations would follow that Canyon Springs citizens lived in a make-believe world if they thought city services came cheap.

Although it was little consolation, the museum wasn’t the only victim of funding cuts. The parks and rec department was under scrutiny as were two police force and firefighter positions currently standing unfilled. The senior citizens facility, youth baseball, city pool and a dozen others were facing major cutbacks, and there had been talk of across-the-board city salary and benefits reductions. Layoffs.

“For a moment I thought I heard a fife and drum in there,” a low male voice said. “Nice speech.”

Startled, she bolted away from the wall and spun to face Bryce Harding, who stood but a few feet from her.

She folded her arms, endeavoring to still her racing heart. He couldn’t be happy with her. Not when she practically pointed an accusing finger at him. “Do I detect a note of sarcasm?”

“None intended.”

“Right.” She shook her head as she fished her keys out of her jacket pocket and turned to where she’d parked her car, too weary to tangle with him tonight.

He snagged her upper arm, drawing her to a halt.

“Could we talk a minute?”

She didn’t attempt to suppress a sigh. “You know how I feel about the museum and the city-funding cut. About the rent increase. I don’t know what else there is to say.”

“I want you to know I wouldn’t encourage Grandma to raise the rent on the museum if I had a choice.”

“Oh. That’s right. The trip to the Bahamas you so generously invited my mother-in-law to join you on.”

“You know I was just being a smart mouth.”

Why couldn’t he admit he’d run through his army pay as if there was no tomorrow? That he couldn’t find a steady job since his return. Was mooching off his grandma—and forcing the historical society to replenish his fun money.

“Regardless, the city council is going to do what they want to do. But I couldn’t let their budget balancing at the museum’s expense go by unchallenged. I had to make my voice heard. Speak up for the kids and the community.”

“You did it well. But I have to admit your rah-rah-rah on behalf of the town surprises me.”

“Why’s that?”

“Unless my memory fails me, you weren’t happy when Keith settled you in Canyon Springs. In all honesty, I didn’t expect to come back and find you still here. Thought you’d have hightailed it back to Kansas City long ago.”

She tensed. He remembered where she was from. Knew how she’d felt about Canyon Springs. Although her husband’s forthrightness was something she’d loved about him—sometimes—why’d he have to be so candid with this man, his boyhood buddy? Bryce might not have been a stranger to Keith, but she didn’t like him knowing personal things about her that she hadn’t chosen to share.

She kept her tone even. “This is my home now.”

“It’s mine, too.”

“For a long time it wasn’t. It’s my understanding—unless
my
memory fails me—you could hardly wait to get out of here. To join the army and leave Canyon Springs in your dust.”

So there, big guy, something I know about you, too. Two can play this game, thanks to Keith.

His eyes narrowed in the dim glow of the streetlight, as if contemplating the next bombshell to drop on her. But after a long pause, his words came softly. “Whether you believe it or not, I don’t like causing you distress, Sandi. Trust me, I know you’ve already been through enough.”

She had been, hadn’t she? But trust him?

Admittedly, she hadn’t expected Bryce to acknowledge the hardships she’d faced the past five years, let alone the level of anxiety the museum issue caused her. As she returned his steady gaze, the anger—the tension coiled inside—slowly seeped out of her. And with a gentle nudge, her heart reluctantly opened to the recognition of a kindred spirit in Bryce. One born of a shared loss that had ripped their worlds apart.