Authors: Heidi McCahan
“My boss closed his practice. He and his wife leave for a long-term medical mission in Morocco this week.”
“You didn’t want to go?”
“I tried. They wouldn’t let me.”
His eyes widened. “Huh. Why?” Blake’s cell phone chimed and he picked it up, staring at the screen. “Shoot. Sorry. Tisha’s texting me, we’ve got clients waiting.”
The clingy blond from the party.
“Oh. Okay. I’ll see you around.” She offered a weak smile.
He touched her arm and a jolt of electricity zinged through her. “I still have the pictures you drew for me. Every one. Your talent is incredible.”
His hand lingered on her arm and Lauren swallowed hard, looking anywhere but at him. Then he was moving away, walking backward toward his truck. “I think there’s more to the story, by the way. I want to hear the rest.”
She pasted on a smile while her heart jumped in her throat. The rest of the story. Where to begin? It all started with him. One regrettable night and then a little stick with two pink lines.
Almost there. Her chest tightened and she sucked in another deep breath. Her quads burned and she still had to make the long, slow climb up the hill. Maybe four miles was a little much. All that coffee sloshing around in her stomach didn’t help, either. She heard the hum of an engine and tires crunching on gravel behind her. She glanced over her shoulder. Jeremy Tully waved from the cab of his truck.
“Hey,” he called through the open window, “that’s a nice pace you’ve got going there.”
She shrugged and jogged in place. “Thanks, I think. Have you been following me?”
Jeremy smiled. “Only since the hardware store when I saw you run by. Do much racing anymore?”
Lauren stopped jogging and studied him. “A few 5K’s now and then. Why?”
“I’m recruiting for the Cove to Creek relay.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Thought you might like to defend your title.”
Lauren smiled at the memory. She and Blake had run the Cove to Creek relay race with Shannon and Jess the summer before her senior year, winning easily. “I think a few others have claimed the title after me. That was almost ten years ago, Jeremy.”
“But nobody’s won with as much, how shall we say, ‘flare’ since.”
Lauren glared. “If you’re referring to the incident with Susannah, I didn’t push her.”
Jeremy threw his head back and laughed. “That’s your story and you’re sticking to it, right?”
“Absolutely.”
“So can I persuade you to come out of retirement to join our team?”
Her stomach swirled with anticipation. It would be fun to race again. “Who’s on your team?”
Jeremy lifted his Angels baseball cap and scratched his head. “Let’s see. Me, Blake, Jess and Tisha so far.’’
“I don’t know, Jer. My family needs a lot of help right now. I’m not sure I should commit to anything for Fourth of July yet.” Not to mention being a third wheel. Tisha and Blake had looked quite intimate last night.
“Come on. Everybody gets excited about the Fourth around here. The whole town still shuts down for the festival and the race. I’m sure your folks will be watching. Besides, your entry fee benefits a great cause.”
Lauren tipped her head. “Entry fee? I have to
pay to run the Cove to Creek now?”
“Times have changed. For every person who enters the race, one of the cruise lines will match it. Dollar for dollar. The money goes toward new playground equipment for the park.”
“What’s the fee?”
“Only eight bucks. You know you want to.” Jeremy winked and cracked open a can of Coke.
Lauren chewed her lip. It was one of her favorite traditions. The whole town came out for the relay race, stayed for the festival, then gathered for a dance later that evening. The races in Portland just weren’t the same. And he said it would benefit the town. When was the last time she’d done anything even remotely close to a service project, anyway?
She nodded slowly. “Alright, I’m in. Can we settle up later? I don’t have any cash on me.”
“Sweet.” Jeremy leaned out the window and gave her a fist bump. “Sure, you can register anytime. Thanks, Lo-lo. Can I give you a lift home?”
She waved him off. “No, I’m good. See ya.”
Stopping to talk had killed her momentum so she decided to walk back up the hill to the Inn. When she was a few strides from the porch, the front door flew open.
“Aunt Lauren, watch this!” Joshua leaped off the top step, waving a gray plastic sword in one hand.
Lauren sucked in a breath, closing both eyes. The boy had no fear.
She opened one eye. Surprisingly, he had landed on his feet, crouched low to the ground. Just like a cat. Next he spun in circles, brandishing his weapon and barking orders.
“Hey, big guy. What’s going on?”
“Nothin’. Mom said I had to wash my hands for lunch. But I came outside to check for bad guys. They’re sneaky, you know.”
“For sure. What’s for lunch?” She scooped him up and spun in circles. He cackled with delight. Something stirred inside, a whisper of regret. Is this what little boys were like?
“There you are.” Mom stood in the doorway, drying her hands on her faded polka dot apron. “Lunch is ready. Were you out for a run?”
Lauren nodded, setting Joshua down on the steps. “I’m sorry, I should’ve left a note.”
“No worries, you’re a big girl.” Mom stepped aside and Lauren followed her nephew into the house.
“Well, looky here.” Matthew came out of the kitchen, his tie tossed over one shoulder as he cradled Gavin in his arms. He leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Missed you this morning. We saved you a seat right up front, sorry you couldn’t make it.”
She elbowed him in the ribs. “Very funny. I heard you were preaching this morning. How did it go?”
“It was kind of a yawner.” Dad piped up from the kitchen. He buckled Emmy and Ava into their booster seats. He winked at Lauren and handed a slice of bread to each girl.
“Yeah, I could hear you snoring from the pulpit, Dad.” Matthew grinned and took a seat.
“Stop, you two.” Mom scolded, plating generous helpings of lasagna.
“Where’s Seth?” Lauren asked.
“He sent me a text, said he and Toby needed to get back to their claim.” Dad shook his head. “We never know what that kid’s up to.”
“What’s going on with him and Molly Simmons?” Angela passed Gavin to Matthew.
“He hasn’t mentioned Molly, but I hear he and Toby have really found something incredible.” Matthew tucked Gavin in the crook of his elbow and poured dressing on his salad with his free hand.
“He told me it was a killer claim.” Lauren took a slice of French bread from the basket and passed it to Angela.
“I’m sure he and Toby have it all figured out. Mike, can you say grace?” Mom reached for her husband’s hand. Before Dad could say ‘amen’, the Emmy and Ava were wrestling over a carton of yogurt.
“Girls.” Angela’s fork clattered to her plate and she shoved back her chair with a heavy sigh. Lauren watched as she deftly pulled Emmy’s chair away from Ava’s and offered another carton of yogurt. Ava glared and threw it on the floor. The carton cracked open, squirting strawberry yogurt across the hardwood.
Plucking Ava from her chair, Angela whisked the toddler out of the room. Ava’s howls of protest echoed down the hallway. Lauren raised her eyebrows and took a sip of her ice water. This parenting thing wasn’t for sissies.
Matt reached for the salad bowl. “So tell me about this fiancé of yours.”
Not now. Please.
“Matthew, let her eat lunch. There’s plenty of time to catch up.” Mom slid in between Joshua and Emmy.
“She can talk and eat.” Matthew flashed a lop-sided grin, green eyes twinkling.
“What’s his name? Harden?”
Lauren stared at her food. She missed eating her mother’s lasagna. But she couldn’t swallow another bite right now.
“Holden. Holden Kelly.”
“That’s right.” Matthew stabbed at a cherry tomato. “So he’s coming later?”
“He was here last night. Stopped by just long enough to break up with me.”
Dad abruptly stopped chewing while Mom gasped and spilled her water. Matthew paused with his fork halfway to his mouth.
“Oh, sweetheart.” Mom grabbed some towels from the counter and sopped up the water. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“You didn’t give me a chance.”
“So he flew in, tracked you down, and dumped you?” Matthew shot a glance at Dad. “Sounds like he’s quite a guy.”
Lauren flinched, moving some food around on her plate.
“I’m sorry, honey. I know this must be difficult.” Dad cleared his throat and reached for the bread basket.
You have no idea.
She nodded and fought back the tears that threatened to fall.
“So what else is going on? Still working for that doctor?” Matthew shifted Gavin to his shoulder.
Lauren shook her head. “He closed the practice. Friday was my last day.”
“So what will you do when you go back?” Dad shoveled more lasagna onto a hunk of bread and popped it in his mouth.
Lauren looked away. She’d have to find another job. And put her graphic design plans on hold. Again. “I haven’t figured that out yet.”
The phone rang, Gavin started to fuss and Angela came back in the kitchen with a very cranky Ava in her arms.
“Matt, we need to get going. She’s falling apart.” Angela stood behind Matt, her lips pressed into a thin line.
“What about Gavin? I think he’s hungry.”
“I’ll feed him, but then we need to go.” Angela slid Ava back into her chair then scooped Gavin from Matt’s arms and disappeared into the living room.
Matt switched chairs and squeezed in between his girls, tugging his plate toward him. “Let’s finish our lunch, okay?”
“That was Judy Maxwell.” Mom set the phone down on the counter and came back to the table. “She wondered if I knew anyone who could put together a flyer for the relay and festival. Whoever she had lined up backed out last minute.”
Lauren leaned forward in her seat. She could probably pull something together in a couple of hours. Good thing she’d brought her laptop.
“What does she need a flyer for? The same festival happens every year,” Dad said.
“Apparently the cruise directors want someone on the dock promoting the festival.” Mom passed the bread basket to Matt. “How about some more bread?”
Lauren pushed her plate aside, the buzz of a percolating project coursing through her veins. She twisted around in her chair and grabbed a pen and a discarded envelope off of the counter. The conversation turned to the new bridge project and a small development going up on the edge of town. New ramblers or something. She was only half-listening while Dad and Matt discussed the growing real estate market.
“What are you drawing, Aunt Lauren?” Josh leaned over her arm to examine her work.
“Just an idea I had for a flyer, that’s all.” She scribbled a tagline under a rough sketch of the mountains.
Conversation came to a halt. Silence encircled the table. She glanced up slowly to find her parents and Matt staring at her.
“What did you say?” Dad asked.
A flush began to creep up her neck. “I thought I’d help Mrs. Maxwell design that flyer.” Butterflies danced in her stomach. She felt a little weird talking about her ideas out loud. It wasn’t like she was a professional, or anything.
“You can do that sort of thing?”
She shrugged. “I’ve done a couple of projects back h—in Portland. Nothing big. It’s kind of a hobby, I guess.”
“There’s a whole box of your artwork around here somewhere.” Mom fed Emmy one last bite of lasagna then reached for a napkin. “You used to draw all the time. Let me wipe your face, Em.”
Angela came back into the room, Gavin sound asleep in her arms. “He’s out already. Let’s go.”
While Matt and Angela rounded up the kids, Lauren put her doodling aside and helped clear the table. Turning on the water at the kitchen sink, she added some dish soap and waited for the basin to fill. She reached for Granny’s locket.
Do you see me, Lord? I’m washing dishes and doodling on napkins in the middle of nowhere. Are these the plans you have for me? Because this is not what I envisioned. Not at all.
Joshua’s laughter, echoing through the open front door, was all she heard. Of course. God’s answer, if He even cared, would be drowned out by the sound of a happy child. She grabbed the sponge and scrubbed angrily at the marinara-encrusted pan in the sink.
Go ahead. Remind me again of my hideous mistakes. As if I’d forgotten.
It was all he could do to keep the raft upright in the river this afternoon. For once it wasn’t the rapids or the crazy strong current fighting to take him down. Those tear-filled green eyes weighed heavily on his mind, distracting him from his customers, the email overflowing from his inbox—everything.
Blake tossed another log on the fire as Jess came out of the house and handed him a Coke.
“Thanks, man. I could get used to this.” He leaned back in the lawn chair and smiled at his friend.
“You’re welcome. I thought you might want to chill after all the excitement you had the other night.” Jess gave him a knowing smile.
Blake pursed his lips and tilted his head. “What excitement would that be?”
“I see ya, playing it cool. That’s fine.” Jess tipped his Coke back and took a long pull.
“No, for real. What are you talking about?”
“We all watched you fighting off that hot blond. Then you swooped in and rescued the damsel in distress. Well played, my friend.”
“Wait. Tish?” Blake groaned. “You think something’s going on there?”
“No, not really. But I did think Lauren was going to come right out of her chair when Tisha put her hand on your leg.”
Blake snorted. “Whatever. Lauren was a mess. I doubt she even noticed Tisha.”
“What happened?”
Blake shook his head in disgust. “Guy blazed into town and broke her heart.”
“Nice,” Jess scoffed. “Sounds like a class act.”
“That’s what I thought but she was pretty upset.”
“Well, I hope he took that ring with him. He’s making us all look bad.”
Blake couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t worry. It’s gone. Speaking of rings, why don’t you propose to that woman of yours?”
“We’ll get to me in a second. Where’s the former fiancé now?”