The Promise of Home (Love Inspired) (13 page)

“Follow me.” Dev headed toward an outcropping of rock on the shoreline. He didn’t want Logan to overhear their conversation, but he knew Jenna wanted to be in clear sight of the cabin if one of the children needed her.

Violet quickly lost interest in them and went to look for crayfish hiding in the reeds.

“I can’t believe you actually told a seven-year-old boy that it’s easier to talk in a
tree.
”

Dev had been trying to think of the best way to start when Jenna fired the first shot.

“Jenna—”

But she’d already reloaded, cutting him off. “And you know that I’ve asked Logan not to leave the yard without permission.”

“I didn’t encourage Logan to climb that tree.” Dev drove a hand through his hair, reliving the moment he’d looked up and spotted the boy’s feet above his head. It had sheered a decade from his life. “Violet was the one who discovered Logan in the tree. He’d climbed up there all by himself. I only went up after him because I was afraid he might fall.”

Jenna’s indignation drained away. “Logan disappeared while Tori and I were…while I was getting her ready for bed. I was afraid he might have run away again.”

“Again?”

Jenna’s lips tightened and she looked away.

“Logan didn’t run away. He said he needed a quiet place to think.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I know you wouldn’t put Logan in danger.” Jenna sighed. “But something has been bothering Logan all day and he won’t tell me what it is.”

Dev took a deep breath. Prayed for guidance and wisdom.

“He told me.”

Chapter Fourteen

“W
hy would he tell you?”

Jenna’s eyes darkened in confusion.

Dev didn’t take offense. He wasn’t quite sure why Logan had confided in him, either. Not that it hadn’t taken a little coaxing on his part.

“Sometimes it’s easier to talk man-to-man.”

Jenna’s ragged sigh sliced through him. “Can you tell me what you talked about?”

“No.” Dev didn’t want to betray Logan’s trust. “But I can talk about the canoe trip next weekend.”

“Canoe trip.” Jenna frowned and Dev could practically see the wheels turning. “I remember hearing Emma and Abby mention something about that after church this morning. The mentoring ministry is sponsoring the outing and both their husbands are planning to help.”

“One of the adult volunteers gave Logan an invitation,” Dev said.

“I didn’t see it.”

Dev retrieved a wrinkled square of florescent green paper from his pocket and handed it to her. He’d already read the contents. The daylong outing started at Abby’s bed-and-breakfast and ended with an evening cookout.

The paper trembled as Jenna skimmed the contents. “He can’t go.”

“Why not?”

“Because Logan and Tori might not be here next week.” Jenna handed the flyer back to him. “And I won’t make Logan a promise that I can’t keep.”

“But your sister wouldn’t leave immediately, would she?” Dev knew he was treading on dangerous ground, but he owed it to Logan to intervene. “If she’s been in the hospital, wouldn’t her doctor recommend some time at home to recover?”

Jenna knotted the tails of her shirt together in her lap. “I’m not sure. If Shelly doesn’t get…better…soon, I’ll have to take the children back to Minneapolis with me.”

Dev didn’t know why that information twisted his stomach in a knot. Jenna had made no secret of the fact that she couldn’t wait to get back to the city.

“But what if they
are
here?” Dev knew how important the outing was to Logan. The boy had been in tears when he’d explained how much he wanted to go on the canoe trip. “Couldn’t your sister make the arrangements—”

“No.”
Jenna jumped to her feet, poised for flight, but Dev caught hold of her hand.

“I don’t understand.”

“That’s the problem.”

Dev added an extra prayer for patience. “Then help me. I care about Logan.”

And—
help me, Lord
—he was starting to care about Jenna, too.

Jenna glared up at him.

“Why are you pushing this?” she snapped. She tried to pull her hand away but Dev wouldn’t let go.

“Because the canoe trip is important to Logan. He said that he’s never been on one before.”

The reminder that she’d failed her nephew scraped against Jenna’s conscience. She should have tried harder to trace Shelly’s whereabouts after Logan was born. If she had, maybe things would have been different.

“Shelly—” Jenna’s throat closed, her control hanging on by a thread. What could she say about the sister she hadn’t seen or heard from in seven years? “She might not be staying in Mirror Lake, either.”

“But you don’t know that for sure.” Frustration sizzled in Dev’s tone. “You might not like small towns, but your sister might want to make her home here. She could change her mind.”

“She won’t.” Jenna knew that and so did the children. That’s why Tori had worn her new dress to bed. She was afraid it would get left behind. Logan was upset because he had no idea where he would be living in a week.

“Shelly doesn’t know how to stay in one place.” Neither had their mother. Nola had been restless, always searching for something that she never found in the next town. After their father filed for divorce, it had gotten worse. And so had Nola’s drinking problem. “Logan would be devastated if I gave him permission to go and then something happened.”

“Maybe you could plan a substitute activity. Something Logan can look forward to. What else does he like to do?”

“I don’t know.” The words slipped out before Jenna could stop them. She was dimly aware that Dev hadn’t let go of her hand. “I haven’t seen Logan for seven years.
Seven years.
All I know is that he likes dogs and fishing and campfires.”

And if it hadn’t been for Dev, Jenna wouldn’t have known that.

“I saw Logan once, right after he was born. And then Shelly, my sister…she left. I didn’t even know Tori existed until Grace Eversea called last week.”

It was as if a dam had burst inside of her. The words kept coming, spilling over with her own fears and frustrations…

“They need so much and I don’t even know where to start. Tori has nightmares. Logan carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. I have no idea what I’m doing. And Shelly—” She couldn’t even say the words.

“She’s in rehab, isn’t she?” Dev asked softly.

Jenna’s chin shot up. “How did you know that?”

“Conversations involving social workers and foster care, a mother who was in the hospital and no mention of a father. I put the pieces together.”

Jenna couldn’t look at him now. “You were right when you said they’ve been through a lot.”

Dev’s other hand reached up to cup her jaw. He tipped her chin until Jenna had no choice but to meet his eyes. The compassion she saw in them threatened to snip the last thread of her self-control.

“So have you.”

Dev’s hands closed over Jenna’s shoulders and he drew her into his arms. For a moment, Jenna rested her forehead against the broad chest, inhaled a scent more potent than a designer cologne. Welcomed the slow, steady beat of his heart.

“You’re doing a great job with Logan and Tori,” Dev murmured. “You couldn’t prevent the choices their mother made.”

“I should have been there for her.”

“You’re with the kids now. And you’re doing a great job.”

Jenna wished she could believe him.

“You don’t have to do this alone.”

Yes, she did. She always had.

A fishing boat glided past the dock. The friendly whoops and hollers from the people waving at them from the bow brought Jenna back to her senses.

“I’m sorry.” She forced herself to step away, when all she wanted to do was stay in Dev’s arms. Safe. Secure.

“Jenna—” He reached for her hand but this time Jenna scooted out of reach.

“I have to check on the kids.”

Jenna was equally relieved and disappointed when Dev didn’t follow.

She’d blamed Shelly for running away.

Now who was guilty of doing the same thing?

* * *

In a neighborhood where ranch-style homes lined both sides of the street, Gabby Bunker lived in a tiny bungalow that looked like something straight off the pages of a fairy tale. Peach hollyhocks with delicate bell skirts swayed against the foundation. Multipaned windows sported yellow bric-a-brac trim and the roof of the porch shaded the yard like the brim of a floppy straw hat.

Jenna turned into the brick driveway and parked the car. A petite figure in a polka-dot housedress launched out of a wicker chair on the porch and clattered down the steps to meet her.

“Mrs. Bunker?”

“It’s Gabby to my friends, dear.” Nutmeg brown eyes sparkled up at her beneath a cap of snow-white hair as high as the meringue on Kate’s lemon custard pie. “Wes said I would like you. And you’re right on time. Punctuality is so important, don’t you agree?”

Gabby didn’t wait for an answer as she marched Jenna up the narrow sidewalk. “Where are those delightful children Wes told me about?”

“They’re with Kate this morning,” Jenna said. “There’s a special activity day for the children at church.”

“Kate is a wonder. A
wonder.
I don’t know what this town would do without her.” Gabby nudged Jenna toward one of the wicker chairs. “And I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Without me?”

“I was so worried about my column. God and I had a talk about it last week and he said, Gabby my dear girl, you know you can trust me. If I can calm a storm, I can find a replacement for you.” Gabby leaned forward. “And here you are!”

Yes, here I am,
Jenna thought. With the speech she’d rehearsed on the drive over dissolving like the sugar cubes that Gabby was dropping into a glass of iced tea.

She cleared her throat. “I told Mr. Collins that I wasn’t sure how long I would be in Mirror Lake. It might be better if you found someone more reliable to step in while you’re gone.”

Gabby slipped on the pair of rhinestone-studded spectacles dangling from a gold chain around her neck. Stared straight into Jenna’s eyes. “Aren’t you reliable?”

“Of course I am. But what if I have to leave?”

“We’ll take it one day at a time. That’s all any of us can do, isn’t it? I’ve been writing my column since I retired from teaching. Everyone told me it was time to rest, but God had other plans. I decided I wasn’t going to waste the time he gives me. People said I was off my rocker and there it was. The answer to my prayer. Not only did God give me a new purpose, he named it.”

Jenna’s confusion must have shown because Gabby laughed.

“Off my rocker. That’s the name of my column, didn’t Wes tell you?”

“He left that part out.”

“I came up with the idea because everyone thinks that when a body retires, all that’s left is the rocker on the front porch. I don’t intend to be one of them.”

From what Jenna could see, Gabby didn’t need to worry about that. The tiny frame packed more energy than a stick of dynamite. She reminded Jenna of Miss Franklin, her freshman English teacher. Miss Franklin had been the first one to notice that she had a natural gift for creative writing. The first one to encourage Jenna to enter the contest that had opened the door to a college scholarship…and encouraged her dream of becoming a writer.

“The stories I write don’t come to me, I go to the stories. Interview interesting people in the area. Last week it was Emma Sutton. Sweet young woman. She wants to open a gallery for local artists.”

Jenna had seen some of Emma’s mosaics in Abby’s garden at the bed-and-breakfast and the woman definitely had a gift.

“Someone has to convince our young people they don’t have to leave the minute the ink dries on their high school diploma,” Gabby snapped a linen cloth off the table with the flare of a magician and unveiled a plate of fist-sized homemade cookies. The aroma of warm chocolate and vanilla scented the air.

Jenna suddenly got the feeling that she was being bribed.

“So, what do you say?”

Cookie notwithstanding, there was only one thing that Jenna
could
say if she wanted Marlene, her boss, to let her stay in Mirror Lake a few more days.

“All right. One column at a time,” Jenna agreed.

“Good, good. I’ll tell Wes you’ll have it on his desk by next Tuesday. I’ll rest a lot easier knowing that’s taken care of. Don’t want to disappoint my readers.”

Neither did Jenna.

“I’ll interview the next person on your list.”

“Wonderful.” Gabby clapped her hands together and then slid the plate of cookies toward her. “Help yourself. I made these this morning.”

“Do you have someone in mind for next week’s edition?”

“As a matter of fact.” A smile bowed Gabby’s lips. “A local wildlife photographer. Stubborn fellow. Up until now, he hasn’t agreed to an interview.”

A prickle of suspicion ticked the back of Jenna’s neck. “How many times have you asked him?”

“Only once or twice…a month. But I have a feeling he won’t say no this time. Especially if you wear a pretty dress.”

“Gabby!”

“It’s true.”

Jenna wasn’t so sure. Gabby lived in Mirror Lake. If the man had turned her down why would he suddenly change his mind and allow Jenna to interview him?

“Why doesn’t he want to be interviewed?”

“Well, he doesn’t come to town very often. Lives in a cabin all by himself. Very mysterious. Has a reputation as being a bit of a recluse.”

Which kind? Jenna wanted to ask. The harmless recluse who talked to the flora and fauna or the one that greeted visitors with a shotgun resting across his arm?

“Maybe I should start with someone else. I mean, if he doesn’t want to be bothered…”

“Oh, he’s just a little shy.” Gabby brushed aside the suggestion. “And if you can convince him to agree to an interview it will be quite the feather in your cap. Wes might consider offering you a permanent position with the
Register.
”

Jenna choked back a laugh. She didn’t
need
a feather in her cap. And she didn’t need a job with the
Register,
either. She did, however, want to keep the one she had now.

“Is there something special about him?”

“I don’t know about that, but there’s certainly something special about his photographs. He manages to be in the right place at the right time and takes these impossible shots.”