Family in His Heart (4 page)

His food appeared in the serving window. He knew it was his because no one else seemed to be waiting for an order. In a moment, Rona came out front, balanced the dishes along her left arm and headed his way.

“Here you go.” She set the eggs and bacon in front of him followed by a plate of toast. She scooted the jelly dish closer. “I’ll be back with a warm-up.” She stepped away, then stopped. “Anything else before I go on break?”

The sun came through the window and highlighted the strands of gold in her shiny hair that curled upward just below her shoulders. “Some company.”

“Sure thing.” She lifted her chin as if to nod, then stopped. “Did you say company?”

He patted the table across from him. “I need some advice.”

A frown returned to her face. “From me?” She pressed the flat of her hand against her chest. “You’re kidding.”

“Not at all.”

She turned away and returned to refresh his drink, then left. She surprised him by her abruptness. He knew he’d been presumptuous, but he really wanted to talk. He felt drawn to her for some reason.

Nick looked out the window, heavenward. God knew he had needs. Maybe God had guided him to someone like Rona. Maybe she had wisdom to offer him.

Glancing back at the kitchen door, he wished he’d taken a different tack. He’d pushed a friendship too quickly. It wasn’t like him at all. Nick had never flirted, not even a playful innuendo, while he’d been married and never since Jill died. But in the past two days he’d been doing something and he wasn’t sure whether it had been flirting or not.

A whish of sound drew him back as Rona settled across from him with a cup of coffee and a muffin. She pulled a paper napkin from the holder, took a sip of coffee, then leaned back. “I’m the worst person in the world to give advice.”

“Why?”

She dropped her gaze and tore off a hunk of her muffin.

He watched her consume the bite, lick her lips and sip the coffee before she focused on him.

“I’ve never given myself good advice, so I don’t expect to have wisdom for anyone else.” She lifted her eyebrows as if to punctuate what she’d said.

“Do you have kids?”

“No. I was married once, but never had a child. It was best.”

Her comment piqued his interest, but he’d learned his lesson and kept his mouth closed before he scared her away. “I have a son.”

“Gary.”

His eyes widened until he recalled yesterday. “You remembered.”

She nodded, lifting her mug.

“He’s sixteen.”

Her concerned look changed to a chuckle. “Then you’re lost and so am I when it comes to advice. Sixteen is a bad age.”

“I know. He didn’t come home last night.”

Her smile faded. “Did you call the police?”

“I located him. He’s okay. He stayed with a friend.” Nick startled himself telling his personal problems to a woman he didn’t know. “I don’t suppose you want to hear this.”

“It’s tough raising a kid alone.”

She looked uneasy and he glanced down at his left hand wondering if she’d surmised he was single from the lack of a ring. Better yet, from his presumptuous behavior.

Rona fingered her cup, then tilted her head as if to give him the answer to his unspoken question. “I heard your wife died a couple years ago.”

She’d heard from who? Bernie? His shoulders knotted. What had Bernie told her? “It was three years ago.”

“Three. That’s still not very long. My husband’s been gone for ten.”

“Ten.” He studied her interesting face, her well-shaped mouth and compelling eyes. “You never remarried?”

She shook her head and looked away.

From her reaction, he decided he’d asked enough about that subject, but his interest didn’t falter. “Bernie told you about Jill?”

Rona inched her gaze toward him. Jill?

“My wife.”

“No. It was Shirley Bailey.”

Bailey? He shrugged.

“She lives on Island View Road. She’s my childhood friend’s grandmother. I dropped by last night to say hello.” She gave him a halfhearted disconcerted look. “I hadn’t seen her in years and wasn’t even sure she’d remember me.”

The last comment intrigued him, but he let it slide. “I don’t think I know her.”

Rona gave a half-smile. “She said everyone knows Nick Thornton.” She bit off a hunk of muffin. “She told me about your wife’s death.”

He searched her face, wondering if that had been all the woman had said, because he didn’t want to go there.

“It was very sudden.” He grasped the handle of his coffee mug and took a sip, hoping the pause would allow the topic to fade away. “Are you renting a place?”

She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Not yet.” She evaded his gaze.

He swallowed his next question, knowing it was too soon to ask and definitely bad timing.

“I need to find a place to stay. Do you know anyone who has a flat around here? Shirley told me you knew what was happening in town.” Her questioning expression turned him upside down.

Had she read about his job in the paper? If so, she’d certainly mention it. The image of his boathouse apartment flashed in his eyes and he bit his tongue to control the offer, sensing it was a bad idea. He’d already come on too fast. “Not offhand, but I’ll keep my ears open.”

“Thanks. I’d appreciate that.”

He fiddled with his paper napkin, hounded by the desire to be honest about his job opening with room and board, but if she said no, then he would wish he had waited. She’d just started the job with Bernie and he really didn’t know her at all. He liked her, that was true, but could she handle Gary? He wanted to do what was best for his son. He’d be wise to give himself time to know her better.

When Nick refocused, Rona eyed her watch.

“Time’s up.” She looked disappointed as she slipped her mug onto the empty muffin plate. “I’d better get back to work before Bernie fires me on my second day.”

Nick managed a grin, but had to fight from praying for that exact thing to happen.

Rona settled into the easy chair, snapped on her bedside lamp and pulled the newspaper from the table. She needed to find a place to rent. This motel situation would drive her mad. The past four days these cramped quarters had felt like a jail cell. The thought prickled up her arms.

Jail. Prisoner. The words jarred her and she thought of her brother. Would Don find her? He would be paroled some time this month, and though he was her brother, she wanted no part of him. He’d nearly ruined her life.

She spread the newspaper on her lap, but before she could focus, the alien jangle of her cell phone jarred her. The cell had been meant for emergencies. She hadn’t given the number to her father, only a friend who promised to let her know if anything went wrong at home.

Rona closed the paper and dug into her bag. The irritating jingle continued as she gazed at the number without recognition. She said hello, and as soon as she heard the voice, she remembered. She’d given her number to Mrs. Bailey.

“I baked cookies today. Chocolate chip and peanut butter. I wanted to make sure I had something you’d like.”

“I love them both, Mrs. Bailey,” Rona said, hearing pleasure in the elderly woman’s voice.

“Would you like to come over for a visit? I’d love your company.”

Again? She’d only been there last night. She eyed the newspaper, feeling guilty, but knowing she didn’t want to give the older woman false hope of being a constant companion. Though she was pushing forty, Rona wanted to live a little before ending her social life.

“I have some things to do tonight, but how about tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?”

Rona heard disappointment in the woman’s voice.

“All right, then.” She paused as if grasping for another comment. “I’ll make tea tomorrow.”

“Tea sound wonderful, and I know the cookies will be as good tomorrow as today.”

She heard hesitation in Mrs. Bailey’s voice, but she must have accepted her excuse. “I’ll be waiting,” the woman said, her cheery voice zapping Rona with sadness as they said goodbye.

Rona fell back against the chair, wishing she didn’t feel so guilty. That could be me one day, she thought. Lonely. Alone. Mrs. Bailey and she had that in common. Yet the older woman had enjoyed a full life with a husband she loved. Rona had life to look forward to if she could stop running and settle somewhere safe, somewhere she felt free.

Pulling herself from her reverie, Rona unfolded the small newspaper again and flipped through the pages until she found the rental ads. She read the few entries, disappointed. Most of them offered cabins by the month or week. The only other ad she saw wasn’t what she wanted. She had no desire to rent a house. A flat or apartment would serve her purpose well.

She turned the paper over to the Help Wanted ads and scanned the page. She didn’t see Nick’s ad for a housekeeper. Why hadn’t he asked her? She’d given him every opportunity. He’d probably found a woman already. The possibility weighted her shoulders. Living on an island would have been wonderful—a beautiful setting, room and board, and a paycheck. What more could she want?

And, best of all, Don would have a difficult time finding her, or at least getting to her. He loved to ride into her life like a knight with all kinds of promises and then leave her eating dust.

Dust. Rona licked her dry lips and realized she needed something to drink. She rose and reached for the cooler, pulled out an orange pop and nabbed the potato chip bag.

When she settled back, she picked up the newspaper again to read the local news. She wanted to become familiar with the town she’d chosen to live in. As she placed her thumb on the edge of the daily paper to turn the page, Nick’s ad lay just below her finger. How had she missed it earlier? Her pulse rose as did her hopes. Maybe Nick thought she wouldn’t be interested so he hadn’t offered her the job. Rather than second-guessing, she could just apply and get it over with. If he said no, she would just have to deal with it.

Then reality smacked her between the eyes. Nick knew she wanted a better job. He knew she needed a place to stay, but he hadn’t offered her the position. He could have asked. Nothing had stopped him, except his own choice.

Nick hadn’t given her a thought.

N
ick closed his car door and stood outside waiting to hit the remote while Gary sulked inside the SUV. Last night Gary had mentioned he might get home late from school again today, and, certain that his son planned to get away with something else, Nick had met him at the end of the school day, and this time insisted he go home with him.

Yesterday, he’d tried to control his frustration and broached the subject about Gary’s overnight stay at Phil’s and set down some rules. Gary only shrugged and blew him off. Rather than fight, Nick decided to give the situation thought and prayer. Today, he hoped to move a mountain.

“You can play the silent game with me,” Nick said when Gary finally dragged himself from the passenger seat, “but we really need to talk.”

With a half glance, Gary slammed the door and strutted past him. “Talk.”

“I have been. Now it’s your turn.”

Gary dug his hands into his pockets and kicked at the tufts of broad-leaved grass as they headed toward the lake. The progress they’d made earlier that morning had faded.

Disappointed, Nick looked at the stretch of water and knew talking was impossible over the roar of the motor, anyway, he needed to focus on steering the boat, not dealing with Gary. He looked down the sidewalk toward Harbor Inn, drawn there by the need for dinner he didn’t want to cook and at the thought of seeing Rona. This would give him a chance to introduce Rona to Gary.

He tilted his head toward the restaurant. “Let’s catch dinner in town.”

Gary stopped on the sidewalk without looking up.

“Aren’t you hungry? I don’t feel like cooking tonight.” He motioned again toward the inn. “Harbor Inn has good food.”

Gary lifted his shoulders in an I-don’t-care attitude and followed.

Nick knew there was little purpose in talking to Gary when he was in a bad mood, but maybe in the quiet atmosphere he could steer the conversation toward something that would relieve the tension. He wished they had someplace neutral where they could relax and be father and son.

They walked in silence, and when they stepped through the door, the smell of corned beef filled the air. Nick drew in the scent as he passed the counter toward the tables. Gary settled into a chair before Nick could point out a table, so Nick sat, wishing they’d gotten closer to the window. Rona usually waited tables in that section.

The kitchen door opened and Mandy came out, strutting across the floor and passing them each a menu. “Need a minute?”

Nick didn’t open his, but eyed Gary as he perused the choices. “I’ll take the corned beef dinner with black coffee.”

She retrieved his menu and waited.

“Rib dinner and a beer.”

Mandy gave Nick a questioning look, then laughed. “Root beer coming right up.”

Gary looked toward the window, then snarled. “Great.”

She collected his menu and left.

Nick managed to control his temper. “Why did you say that? To upset me?”

“What’s wrong with a beer?”

“Besides being sixteen, we don’t drink in this family.”

“Mom did.”

Nick’s pulse skipped. “What are you talking about?”

“I saw her. She had a bottle of wine or something in the back of the cabinet.”

Nick tensed as memories flooded his mind. “She used it for cooking.” Did she? He wasn’t sure, but it made sense.

“Right. That’s what she told me, but I saw her drinking it.”

Nick’s hand trembled and he tucked it beneath the table. “You were young then, Gary. Maybe you didn’t see right.”

“I was almost thirteen, Dad. I wasn’t blind.”

Nick struggled to keep his composure. He’d suspected Jill had a drink once in a while before she died, but he never drank with her. He never brought liquor into the home. He believed drink could lead to sin and he didn’t want any part of it.

Mandy appeared with their drinks and two bowls. “The dinners come with salad.” She set one in front of each of them. “What kind of dressing?”

They gave her their preference and she walked away while Nick looked at Gary and decided to drop the subject of drinking for now. He needed to deal with it himself. Jill drinking. That could explain so many things.

“How’d you do on the test?”

Gary shrugged. “I don’t know for sure. Okay, I guess.”

“Good.” The small talk would get them nowhere, but it might soften Gary into having a regular conversation. Mandy delivered their dressings, and Nick looked toward the kitchen, wondering if Rona was working today. He hadn’t seen her and his letdown surprised him.

He’d missed her yesterday, too, spending the day on Drummond at his resort. This time of year he had so much to do to get ready for the tourist season, and when he arrived back to Hessel, all he could think of was his problems with Gary and, though he’d intended to, he’d forgotten to stop in at Harbor Inn.

Nick nibbled on his salad while Gary poked at his. Pans and dishes rattled in the kitchen as their silence lengthened. He pushed the salad bowl away, trying to think of something to talk about that wouldn’t start an argument.

“Here you go.” Mandy set their plates on the table, removed the salad bowls and said she’d return with refills.

Nick sliced off a piece of the beef. The rich flavor struck his taste buds, but his appetite had waned with his attempt to talk. He forked some cabbage and slipped it into his mouth, watching Gary hold a rib between his fingers and gnaw on the tender meat.

Mandy’s shadow above him caught his attention and he lowered his fork. “No helper today?”

She frowned for a moment and then chuckled. “You mean Rona?”

Nick felt heat building at the nape of his neck. He nodded and grasped his fork.

“She worked the breakfast and lunch shift today and got off early.” She glanced at Gary, then back at Nick. “You like her?”

The heat curved around the back of his neck and climbed. “I don’t really know her.”

Mandy eyed him, a question on her face.

“I was here the day she offered to pinch hit for Bernie. She just caught my attention.”

“Right,” Mandy said, giving him a wink. She spun around and headed back to the counter.

Nick focused on his meal, hoping Gary hadn’t tuned in to the conversation, but when he looked up, he realized he had.

“Checkin’ out the chicks, Dad?” A coy grin spread across his face.

Nick gave him the toss of his hand. “Eat your ribs and wipe the barbecue sauce off your cheek.”

Gary picked up a napkin and dragged it across his face, but his expression hadn’t changed and Nick felt like a kid caught with his hand in his dad’s wallet.

Heading for Mrs. Bailey’s, Rona watched the sun sink in the sky like her sinking spirits when she thought about the difficulties she still had to face. But the sun always rose again and perhaps she had to learn from it. Night might fall, but the light could overcome the darkness. She remembered similar verses in the Bible, verses of encouragement and hope.

The greatest hope she experienced lately had been to move away from the Detroit area to start a better life somewhere else, but that depended on her and her attitude. She could talk her way into the pits or she could look for the sunshine she knew could be there.

Yesterday, she’d been disappointed. Though Nick had come into Harbor Inn the day after she’d first met him—in fact, he’d come twice—yesterday he hadn’t come at all. She’d spent the day craning her neck, looking at the door.

She shouldn’t care since she’d talked herself into snubbing him if he showed up. It was a bite-your-nose-to-spite-your-face situation that her mother always talked about. But Rona figured if Nick didn’t think she was worthy of his housekeeping job, then why should she bother with him? While her reason told her one thing, her emotion told her something else.

Rona pulled into Mrs. Bailey’s driveway and climbed from the car, feeling as if she’d made a mistake. She couldn’t spend her days entertaining the elderly woman or having the woman entertain her. She needed to make friends of her own and find a life, but where and how? The questions tangled in her mind like seaweed.

The front door opened, and when she stepped inside, the scent of cookies filled the air. “Come into the living room,” Mrs. Bailey said, motioning her ahead. “I have everything set up for us.”

Rona flinched, knowing she’d disappointed the woman last night, but Mrs. Bailey beckoned her through the archway and she stepped into the living room, greeted by a teapot covered with a cozy and a plate of cookies. Napkins and condiments nestled on the tray as if the elderly woman had given much thought to presentation.

“Thanks, Mrs. Bailey. I—”

“Please, call me Shirley. I miss hearing my name. Sam sometimes called me Shirl, but Shirley will sound so good.”

Rona’s chest tightened at the look in the woman’s eyes. “I’d be happy to, Shirley.” She gave the woman a tender grin.

Shirley’s eyes sparkled. “You could have cookies like this everyday, you know, if—”

Fearing what was coming next, she patted the outside of her hip. “I have to watch my weight.”

Shirley shook her head. “You look gaunt to me. You need some good home-cooking, and so I was thinking…”

The cookie lodged in Rona’s throat.

“I have plenty of room here and I’d love you to share my home with me. I would enjoy the company.”

Rona couldn’t respond. The offer, though sweet, sounded dire to her. She could easily sit in a rocker and watch her life pass her by, but that was not the life she wanted.

Shirley studied her, her face expectant, and Rona struggled to answer. She grasped for a solid reason why she couldn’t stay. “That’s a lovely offer, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea.” She grasped for a logical reason. “My plans are still up in the air.” It’s all she could think of that fast.

“I thought you were staying in Hessel.”

She pushed herself into a corner. “I am, but I—I.” I what? The words lodged in her throat. “I noticed an ad for a housekeeper job and the offer includes room and board.”

“Really? Where is that?”

Rona hesitated, wanting so much to back up and rethink what she’d said. “It’s nothing, really. I haven’t applied.” She waved her words away.

“Tell me. I’ll advise you.”

Shirley’s eager face melted her resistance. “Nick Thornton needs a housekeeper. I saw it in the newspaper.”

“Nick Thornton.”

Rona had never heard Shirley’s voice rise with such enthusiasm.

“That would be wonderful. He’s a kind man and you just never know.”

Rona drew back, thrown by her last comment. “Never know what?”

“What the good Lord has in store.”

A frown pulled at Rona’s forehead. “What do you mean?”

“God guides our steps. You never know what His plan is for you.”

Rona wanted to rebut the statement, but she could see that Shirley’s faith was strong and she decided she wasn’t armed enough to dispute what she said. “The Lord and I bump heads quite often, Shirley.”

“Then you’re not listening to Him. You know we’re Jesus’s lambs, and He’s our shepherd. He holds us in His arms and carries us close to His heart. We can’t butt heads when we’re against His bosom.”

That was her problem. Rona hadn’t been close to Jesus’s bosom in the past couple of years. She’d struck out on her own, thinking she could handle her own life and trials.

Shirley looked expectant and Rona didn’t know what to say.

“Lambs are known for being dumb, Shirley. I think I’m one of them.”

Shirley laughed. “No you’re not. Maybe you’ve just strayed off, but He’ll find you. Never fear.” She retrieved her cup again and took a sip, a thoughtful look on her face. “I imagine Mr. Thornton is lonely on that island, raising a son on his own. It’s not easy.”

“I don’t suppose it is.”

“He could use a nice young woman to give him a hand. You should take the job.”

Rona hesitated. “He hasn’t offered it yet.”

Shirley’s eyes twinkled. “But he will.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. But if he offers, I’ll accept.”

“I know you will, dear. That boy needs a mother.”

Mother? Rona drew back. “I meant the offer of housekeeper, Mrs…. Shirley. Nothing more.”

Her chuckle filled the air. “Let the Lord take care of that, Rona.”

Rona nearly choked. She grasped the tea and took a drink to calm herself. Mother. Wife. The words hung in her mind like the moon. She feared that’s what Shirley meant earlier. Now she knew. “What happened to Nick…Mr. Thornton’s wife?”

“She died.”

“I know, but how?”

“It was tragic.” She shook her head and appeared to end the conversation.

“Tragic?”

“A waterskiing accident. Mr. Thornton was behind the wheel.”

The news hit Rona in the belly.

“And the boy was in the boat, too. He saw the whole thing.”

Gary had seen his mother die? The news twisted around her heart. “Did she drown?”