Claiming the Single Mom's Heart (18 page)

When they'd completed a bedtime story and said their prayers, Sunshine brushed back Tessa's hair and gazed down at her with a love that ached. “Do you want me to leave the night-light on?”

This would be a first if she didn't, but Sunshine could always hope.

Tessa thought a moment, then shook her head. “No. Grandma was wrong.”

Grandma?
“What do you mean?”

“There's nothing in the closet that will come and get me if I'm not a good girl.”

Sunshine's heart stilled. “Grandma told you that?”

“Uh-huh.” Tessa frowned at the memory. “When I broke one of her pretty cups she said I was a bad girl. And that bad things came out of the closet at night to get bad girls.”

Sickened, Sunshine reached for her hand. Why hadn't she suspected something like this had occurred when Tessa had spent a long weekend with her grandmother before the school year started?

“Why didn't you tell me this, Tessa?”

“'Cause Grandma said if I told anyone, the bad things would come get them, too. I didn't want them to get you, Mommy. Or Grady or Tori.”

“Oh, honey.” Sunshine squeezed her daughter's hand. “Thank you for wanting to keep us safe, but you can always tell me anything. Always. Promise?”

Tessa nodded. “Why did Grandma tell me bad things are in the closet if it isn't true?”

Touchy ground here, and something she intended to discuss with Mom at the first opportunity. Although she didn't want a distrust built between Tessa and her grandma Heywood, could Sunshine ever trust her enough to leave Tessa alone with her again?

“I don't know. Maybe she was tired that day and made a mistake. Or maybe she was trying to be funny and didn't realize you'd take her seriously.”

Or maybe an active five-year-old was too much for her mother these days. Tessa had taken her valuable time and was in her way, much as Sunshine had been when growing up. Never able to keep her mother happy.
Bad girl.
The long-forgotten indictment rang in Sunshine's ears. Maybe the broken cup had upset her mother, but there was no valid excuse for telling Tessa that if she was a bad girl, bad things would get her and those she loved.

“I didn't break the cup on purpose, Mommy. I said I was sorry.”

“Of course you didn't do it on purpose. You did the right thing by apologizing.” Now Sunshine's mother owed her granddaughter an apology, as well.

“I love you, Mommy.”

“I love you, too, sweetie.” She pressed a kiss to her daughter's forehead. “So no night-light?”

She shook her head. “Remember? Grady says to think about happy things.”

Grady. Their hero.

But what happy things could she possibly find to think about tonight when she turned out her own light?

Chapter Eighteen

“A
nd there you have it.” Grady motioned to the wall monitor in a Hunter's Hideaway conference room, then turned to a select group of family members seated around the table. “My proposal for a wildlife-photography addition to our offerings.”

Mom hadn't felt up to attending, but Dad and Grandma Jo had joined several of his uncles and aunts. Luke and Delaney. Rio. All had paid respectful attention as he'd gone through the presentation slides. Asked good questions.

But would it be enough?

Would things have gone better had Sunshine been there, lending her support, chiming in on critical points he perhaps hadn't emphasized enough? Maybe she could have helped him refocus when a question from Luke or Uncle Doug had sidetracked him.

“Well put together, son.” His father smiled his approval, but his noncommittal choice of words made Grady acutely aware he wasn't ready to deliver a decision.

“This is certainly something to think about,” Aunt Suzy said. “Your proposal holds considerable merit.”

“I like it,” chimed in Rio. “Really, really like it.”

He smiled at his little sister, but how much influence would a twenty-year-old have in the final decision making?

Uncle Doug picked up the more detailed backup materials Grady had printed for each of them. “We need time to look over your facts and figures. Luke can run some numbers, then we'll discuss this with you further.”

Grady looked to Grandma Jo, questioning.

Her eyes warmed. “It's evident you've put time and effort into this. Your enthusiasm for the project is evident.”

So she wanted to look over the numbers, too, think through his proposal.

“I believe it will be worth the time and effort, Grandma.” And fun. Something he could sink his teeth into. He could picture the conference room packed with enthusiastic amateur photographers, attention glued to a master photographer guest speaker. Could envision himself overseeing small groups in the predawn stillness of their forested surroundings, helping them capture dreamed-of shots of elk at a watering hole. A deer stepping into a clearing. A hawk soaring overhead.

“Give us time to digest the data you've provided and we'll meet again soon.” Dad rose from his chair, the meeting adjourned.

In a now-empty room, Grady shut down his laptop, then deposited it in his office before stepping outside for a breath of fresh air. November already. Fluffy flakes heralding the first snowfall of the season danced before his weary eyes. This autumn had been a season of disappointments in many ways. His mother's medical issues. A delayed commitment on his business proposal. The eye-opening betrayal by Sunshine.

He looked down as something solid bumped almost sympathetically against his leg. Rags. Luke's German shepherd. He knelt down to scratch the friendly fellow behind the ears.

How many times in the past several days had he reached for his phone, hoping that if he called Sunshine she'd tell him he'd dreamed up last week's nightmare? That it had never happened. But he'd be seeing her soon enough, at tonight's last public event before the election. What would they have to say to each other?

He'd been so sure that God was bringing Sunshine and Tessa into his life. How could he have so badly misjudged a woman's intentions twice? And how could she have done this to him, knowing what had happened to him before and how he felt about hurting a child? He hadn't told any of his family members about why Sunshine had come to Hunter Ridge—but should he? He'd need help gathering documentation to disprove her claims if she decided to take them to court.

He gave Rags a final pat, then rose to his feet.

“Grady.” Uncle Doug's hand clasped his shoulder. “I'm impressed with your persistence on this wildlife-photography pursuit. I seem to recall you bringing this up years ago. Gave us a good laugh at the time.”

Grady gave his uncle a sharp look. “Not so laughable now, is it? When it could be a moneymaker.”

“That remains to be seen. But if we can prevent your mother from throwing in the towel for a few more days—which I think we can—your hands will be full with council duties for the next four years. I don't think any of us would be willing to give your proposal the nod, knowing how your time will be limited. A new venture like this will take considerable oversight if it's to succeed.”

“You know I haven't agreed to run in a special election, don't you?”

“You will. You'll come through for your family like you always do. We're counting on you.” Uncle Doug clapped him on the back, then, before he could gather his thoughts to respond, his uncle went back inside.

Grady raked his fingers roughly through his hair. No, he hadn't agreed to run in a special election if it came down to that. He didn't
want
to be a councilman. But once again, like many times before, duty called. Family loyalties came into play.

Knowing what he knew about Sunshine now, about her deceptive ways, could he in good conscience refuse to run and leave Hunter Ridge at the mercy of her or Irv?

As Sunshine had also pointed out, with the proliferation of digital cameras, the timing for launching his business plan couldn't be better. Would it still be four years from now? Maybe. Maybe not. Uncle Doug was right—it
would
take tremendous oversight of innumerable details if the endeavor wasn't to fail right out of the starting gate. Sure, the town council only met twice a month, but, as he knew from his mother's involvement, the position involved work sessions, subcommittee meetings and volumes of reading and keeping yourself tuned full-time to the heartbeat of the community's needs and opinions.

Could he turn away from his family's expectations? Let them down? Or would serving his time on the town council somehow make up for his near-miss encounters with two women who'd seen an easy target coming from a mile away?

Was there a chance he could juggle Hunter's Hideaway and the added responsibilities of a wild game supply store, the photography venture and the town council at the same time? Do them all justice?

A heaviness settled into his heart.

Not likely.

* * *

“Four more days, folks.” Irvin, having just had his last say in an organized public venue before the election, grinned at Sunshine and Grady as he stepped away from the podium Friday night. “May the best
man
win.”

Sunshine managed not to grimace. Surprisingly, Elaine hadn't pulled out of the running, so maybe her health was taking an upward swing. Who'd have known, though, what a big deal a small-town election would be? Not only time-consuming, but physically, mentally and emotionally draining. Did Elaine have it in her to go into another term? And for that matter, did Sunshine have it in her to juggle motherhood, manage the Artists' Cooperative and take on town council commitments for four years?

It was almost with a sense of relief that with Elaine still in the race, she wouldn't have to find an answer to that question. Grady's mother was certain to win.

As the threesome left the elementary-school stage, Sunshine ventured a glance in Grady's direction. He was so handsome tonight that if this were election day and he the candidate rather than his mother, she'd be hard-pressed not to cast her vote on his behalf.

Upon arriving at tonight's event, the two had awkwardly exchanged a handful of pleasantries. Two strangers with nothing to say to each other. Or at least nothing that could be said in a public place. Many times during the past week she'd almost called him to apologize again. But what more could she say to convince him of her sincerity?

She had no intention of asking Tori to research further to prove the evidence one way or another. But she couldn't deny her original plan, the wrong motives that had caused her to jump at the Artists' Co-op position in the first place.

“Sunshine?” Grady's voice drew her attention. “Mom asked me to reaffirm that she wishes you the best in this election and is sorry she couldn't be here tonight to say so in person.”

“She's still not feeling well?”

“Conserving her strength for the next four years.”

“Please tell her it's been a privilege to share a campaign with her, even though mostly through a very capable proxy.” She met his steady gaze with a smile, hoping it might serve as an icebreaker. But he didn't return it. “She's a fine councilwoman, and the town will be fortunate to have her representing them in the next term.”

“You're not hoping to win?”

“With your mother running for reelection?” She shook her head. “But it was never about winning. It was about giving a voice to those who didn't have one.”

Something unreadable flickered through Grady's eyes. “Then, you've reached your goal before a single vote has been cast.”

They stood looking at each other, the conversation coming to a premature close. Was the ache in his heart as heavy as the one in hers? She'd wounded him deeply, if unintentionally. Could she ever make things right with him, even though a shared future wasn't to be? If only so many people weren't milling about, people with whom they were expected to get in a final word that might sway a vote. She had much she wanted to say to him.
Needed
to say.

“We have punch and cookies over here.” Mayor Silas urged them forward.

“Coming,” Grady acknowledged, but didn't move. Neither did Sunshine.

“Grady,” she said, desperate to speak before the moment passed. “I'm so sorry that—”

“I think it's for the best that we not belabor the issue.” Sadness filled his eyes—a sadness she'd put there. “I don't hold hard feelings against you. You were doing what you thought you needed to do to provide for Tessa. But we both need to accept that it is what it is and let it go.”

But she didn't want to let it go.

“Sunshine! There you are.” Local artist Maeve Malone approached, her arms wide to gather Sunshine into a hug. “No matter what happens at the polls, you've drawn attention to the issues surrounding those who don't make their living from the great outdoors. Thank you.”

Maeve chatted for what seemed an eternity before disappearing into the crowd once more. When Sunshine turned back to Grady, he'd stepped away, his cell phone pressed to his ear and his expression intent.

“Right. Right. I'll see you shortly.”

When he pocketed his phone, he glanced up, looking almost surprised to see her still standing there. Then he swiftly turned his attention to the crowd around them before she could pick up where they'd left off. “I have to leave. Dad's taking Mom to the regional hospital.”

“What's wrong?”

“Dad thinks she's dehydrated. Electrolytes or whatever out of balance. Either that or an infection. She wouldn't let him take her earlier today, but now she's giving in.”

“I'll be praying.”

“Thanks. If you'll excuse me, I need to make a quick round through this crowd, then head to the hospital.” He paused, his eyes searching hers. “And, Sunshine—?”

“Yes?” Would he say they needed to talk in private soon?

“Please don't say anything to anyone about Mom and the hospitalization. They'll probably stick an IV in her and she'll be back on her feet before you know it.”

“If anyone asks, I'll say you had pressing Hunter's Hideaway business.”

“Thanks.” To her surprise, he reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, then immediately released it.

“Remember, Grady, I'm praying.”

Did he recognize what she was saying? That not only was she praying for his mother, but for him, too? Praying God would heal the hurt she'd dealt him and he'd find it in his heart to forgive her even though he could no longer love her?

* * *

As he'd predicted, Mom was back home by Saturday afternoon. Prematurely, in his opinion, after seeing Dad help her from the car in what looked to him to still be a weakened state. How long was she going to insist on going through with this election? Were Uncle Doug and her other supporters putting too much pressure on her to hold out until after the first of the year?

As much as he didn't want to run for office, it was his concern for Mom that drove his doubts as to the wisdom of that plan. Was it really so important that a Hunter be on the council, an unbroken chain since the founding of the first one? If he refused to run in the special election—let his family and their friends down—would that provoke Mom into dropping out of the race or would she keep up the fight to remain in office?

He had a night of heavy-duty praying ahead of him.

“You're deep in thought.”

He looked up from his desk to see Grandma Jo in his office doorway. “Busy times, Grandma.”

“They are indeed.” She approached and he rose to pull up a chair for her. “Your mother is resting comfortably now, glad to be home.”

Grandma sat down, but he remained standing. “How long do you think she can keep pushing herself like this?”

“Elaine is a very strong-willed woman.”

“At what price?” His words echoed those of his father as he found himself pacing the floor. “Who cares what that council does when she's fighting for her life?”

“I can't argue with you, Grady.” Grandma sounded resigned. “But it's not my decision. You know your father wants her to step down, but he won't tell her what to do.”

“Maybe he should.”

“That's not how the two of them have operated for almost forty years. I imagine you'd like your new friend to drop out of the campaign, too. But are you telling Sunshine to do that?”

He halted his efforts to wear out the carpet. “What she does is none of my business.”

“I thought from what I saw at the cookout a few weeks ago and from what your father said recently that there might be a relationship kindling.”

“Not anymore.”