The Promise of Home (Love Inspired) (12 page)

Chapter Thirteen

“L
ogan?”

Dev’s heart slammed into his chest wall. He’d climbed a few trees back in the day, but the boy was a lot higher off the ground than he should have been. “What are you doing up there, buddy?”

The foot disappeared.

Violet looked at Dev and whined.

Dev looked around but there was no sign of Jenna and Tori. And it was clear that Logan didn’t want to be found.

“Guess what Violet found.” Dev held up the coonskin cap. “I’ll bet you were wondering what happened to it.”

“She can have it.” Logan’s voice drifted down. “I don’t want it anymore.”

Not good. Dev released a slow breath.

“Did something happen today?”

“I just don’t want the hat anymore.” Logan’s voice stretched thin. “I can’t be a real explorer anyway.”

There was a truckload of hurt in the statement.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“N-no.”

“Are you sure?”

“You can’t do anything.” Logan sounded so dejected—and so certain—that Dev took the statement as a personal challenge.

Maybe he couldn’t solve the problem weighing those little shoulders down, but he could let Logan know there were people who cared enough to listen.

Dev reached for the lowest branch.

“Don’t move. I’m coming up.”

* * *

Tori dove under the covers the moment Jenna peeked in the bedroom to check on her.

“Did you brush your teeth?”

The lump underneath the blankets moved. “Yes.”

“Wash your face and hands?”

“Uh-huh,” came the muffled response. “’Night, Aunt Jenna.”

Jenna lingered in the doorway. This felt too easy. Tori’s bedtime ritual included reading a chapter out of
The Secret Garden
and arranging an intricate barricade of stuffed animals around the pillow.

“Is everything okay?”

“I’m sleepy.” An exaggerated yawn followed the statement. “Can you turn out the light?”

Tori. Asking her to turn out the light. Jenna didn’t need a parenting book to figure out that something strange was going on.

She made her way over to the side of the bed. “Don’t I get a good night hug?”

“Okay.” The blanket dropped an inch. With her wisps of blond hair sticking straight up and those wide blue eyes, Tori resembled a baby owl.

“If I remember correctly, a hug involves
arms,
” Jenna teased, tugging on the corner of the blanket.

Tori yanked it back up, but not before Jenna caught a glimpse of yellow eyelet trim. Now she understood. Tori hadn’t changed into her pajamas yet.

“Why didn’t you change your clothes, sweetie? You don’t want to wear your pretty new dress to bed.”

Tori’s lower lip slid forward. “Yes, I do.”

Jenna stared down at her in astonishment. What was going on with her niece and nephew? They’d been acting strangely all afternoon.

She’d noticed a subtle change in their mood after the church service that morning. The children in the congregation had been dismissed for children’s church midway through the service, leaving Jenna with Kate and the Suttons.

After the service, when everyone made a beeline for the tables laden with food in a grassy area near the parking lot, Logan had balked when Jenna began to move in that direction.

“Can we go home now?”

“Don’t you want to stay for the picnic?” Jenna had asked, shocked that Logan didn’t want to spend a little more time with his friend Jeremy.

He’d scraped a trench in the gravel with the tip of his shoe and refused to meet her eyes. “I don’t feel like it.”

Jenna had turned to her niece. “Tori?”

The siblings exchanged a silent look that Jenna had been unable to interpret. Then Tori had folded her hands over her stomach.

“I think my tummy hurts.”

That settled the matter. Jenna loaded them into the car and drove to the cabin. Logan went straight inside, not even pausing to see if Violet was lurking nearby.

As the afternoon wore on, he hadn’t expressed any interest in playing outside and responded in monosyllables whenever Jenna tried to start a conversation.

When both the children had refused to eat supper, her concern increased. Tori had requested a bath earlier than usual so Jenna had left Logan playing in the living room while she washed Tori’s hair. Now Jenna understood why she’d dashed into the bedroom and closed the door.

“Dresses are for daytime and pajamas are for night,” Jenna said gently.

“I don’t want to wear pajamas.”

Tori’s eyes darkened with panic, not rebellion, telling Jenna this wasn’t an act of defiance. She sat down on the edge of the mattress.

“Why not?” she asked simply.

Tori wrapped the blanket more tightly around herself. “I don’t want my dress to get lost.”

“It won’t get lost. I’ll hang it up in the closet and it will be right there when you wake up in the morning.”

“But—” A tear rolled down Tori’s cheek. “—what if we have to leave and you forget to bring it?”

Jenna suddenly understood the reason for the fear she saw in her niece’s eyes. Things had been left behind before. Forgotten.

Jenna wished she didn’t remember what that felt like.

God, what do I say?

The prayer slipped out before Jenna could stop it. She had no idea how to reassure a little girl who had been forced to abandon her things in the middle of the night. Who never knew when her mother would decide to pick up and move again.

“I’ll tell you what,” she said quietly. “You put your pajamas on and then we can fold up your dress and put it right next to your pillow.”

Tori glanced at her stuffed dog. “Can Princess sleep next to it? It’s her favorite dress, too.”

Jenna nodded, not trusting herself to speak. While Tori changed into her nightgown, she shook out the wrinkles in the dress and carefully arranged it next to Tori’s pillow.

“How is this?”

“Good.” Tori’s finger drifted over the eyelet collar. “Yellow is my new favorite color.”

“It’s mine, too.”

Tori grinned and tucked Princess in the crook of her arm. “’Night, Aunt Jenna.”

Jenna reached down and brushed a wisp of hair from Tori’s cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Blue eyes searched Jenna’s. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

Satisfied, Tori burrowed deeper under the quilt and closed her eyes.

Jenna backed out of the bedroom and closed the door halfway.

“Logan?”

The frontier town was gone, packed away in the plastic storage bin.

And there was no sign of her nephew.

Not tonight, Logan,
she pleaded silently. She wasn’t sure she could face Dev right now. The situation with Tori had left her feeling raw. Exposed. The man had an uncanny way of searching for things below the surface. Things Jenna had always kept hidden.

Ten years ago, she’d put a painful past behind her. Now she was reliving it through the eyes of her five-year-old niece. Frequent moves. Constant change. Broken promises.

Would Tori eventually become jaded? Slow to trust? And what could she say that would make a difference in the little girl’s life? Jenna hadn’t been able to help Shelly.

She walked around the back of the cabin, swatting at the mosquitoes that rose from the grass.

A cool breeze winnowed through the trees and a bank of ominous looking clouds had crowded along the horizon.

“Logan?” Jenna scanned the woods, searching for a glimpse of the red shirt Logan had changed into after church. “It’s time to come inside and take your bath now.”

A branch snapped a few yards off the path and relief washed through her. Maybe he hadn’t sneaked off to see Violet after all.

“Logan?” Jenna waded through an ankle-deep carpet of emerald ferns. “Is that you? Can you hear me?”

Branches snapped in quick succession, as if something very large—larger than Logan—was making its way toward her.

Jenna grabbed the closest stick she could find. Just in case.

A blur of gray-and-brown fur and Violet appeared, tail wagging. Jenna had to admit the dog was a welcome sight because it meant her nephew was somewhere nearby.

Violet eyed the stick in her hand hopefully.

“Not right now.” Jenna reached out to ruffle a velvety ear. “I’m looking for Logan.”

“I’m up here.”

Up here?

Jenna looked up and saw a small pair of feet dangling above her head. Way above her head.

Tiny spots began to dance in front of her eyes. Logan had to be at least fifteen feet off the ground.

“Are you stuck? Can you climb back down?” Jenna was already scoping out the branches, looking for the quickest way to reach her nephew and bring him to safety.

“Dev can help me.”

“Dev isn’t here, sweetie—”

“Ah…” The leaves rustled and a familiar face appeared. “As a matter of fact, he is.”

“What are you two
doing
up there?” Jenna demanded.

Dev supposed it was a reasonable enough question. He just wished he could give Jenna a reasonable answer.

“We were talking,” Logan said.

“Talking.” Jenna repeated the word as if she’d never heard it before.

“Uh-huh. Dev said it’s okay, ’cause sometimes you can find your words easier when you’re sitting in a tree.”

Accusing blue eyes met his and Dev braced himself for the repercussions, even while he silently acknowledged that reaching the safety of the ground wouldn’t be the end of it. He’d talked to Logan—and now he had to talk to Jenna.

“I’m coming down first.” Dev grabbed a handhold on the nearest branch. “Watch what I do, Logan, and you’ll be fine. Don’t look down.” He heard a small chirp of distress from the audience of one on the ground. “Jenna?”

“What?”

“Don’t look up.”

Dev took it slow, giving Logan time to watch where he put his hands. His feet. Coming down was always a little more frightening, a little more difficult, than going up.

He swung to the ground and immediately turned his attention to Logan. “You’re doing great. Keep it up.”

Logan braced a hand against the trunk of the tree and anchored a foot against a branch. His foot slipped against the trunk of the tree and flecks of bark sifted down.

Jenna looked up.

“Logan!”

He’d
told
her not to look up.

“It’s okay,” Logan gasped, his forehead knit with concentration. “I watched Dev do it.”

Jenna’s eyes narrowed on him. Maybe that wasn’t such a comforting reminder.

As Logan reached the last branch, Dev held up his arms. Without hesitation, the boy let go and dropped into them.

Jenna still looked a little pale when his feet touched the ground.

“Logan.” Jenna’s lips barely moved. “Let’s go back to the cabin and I’ll make some popcorn while you wash up. It’s been a long day.”

And it was about to get longer,
Dev thought.

“Okay. Bye, Dev.” Logan hugged Violet and shuffled away.

“Hey, buddy.”

Logan glanced over his shoulder.

Dev held up the coonskin cap. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

A ghost of a smile touched the boy’s lips. “I guess so.”

Dev planted it on his head, straightened the damp tail. “It looks better on you than it does on Violet.”

The smile grew. “Thanks.”

Jenna opened her mouth to say something. Closed it again. Pivoted and walked away from him. Probably because at some point, she’d been told that if she couldn’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.

For a split second, Dev was tempted to let her go. Give her time to cool down. Then he remembered the brave front Logan had tried to put on—and the red-rimmed eyes he hadn’t been able to hide.

“Jenna?”

She froze.

“Do you have a few minutes? I’d like to talk to you.”

Jenna’s pointed gaze bounced from him to the tree Logan had climbed.

Dev winced. “Both feet on the ground. Promise.”

“I shouldn’t.” She flicked a look at the cabin. “Logan…”

“Actually, Logan is the reason I wanted to talk to you,” Dev admitted. “I’ll make it quick.”

Jenna nodded once but didn’t look at him as they fell in step together. She looked frustrated. And beautiful. The breeze toyed with the strands of silver hair that had escaped from a loose coil at the nape of her neck and Dev resisted the urge to tuck it back in place.

His hands curled inside his pockets instead.

“Inside? On the porch?” Jenna’s clipped tone warned Dev to make up his mind quickly so they could get this over with.