What it Takes (23 page)

“Daddy!” Kelsey practically squealed as she got out of the car at the rental office. She skipped across the parking lot and threw her arms around her father’s neck.

George Morgan chuckled in his daughter’s ear and beamed broadly when she pulled away to study him. His dark brown hair was just slightly grayer than when she’d left, his narrow jaw was beginning to show his peppered stubble, but his green eyes were dancing and his grin was just as big as she remembered.

“I’m so happy to see you,” she said, softly this time, as she gave him another hug. His chest was firm and his familiar Old Spice scent was as comforting as always; she felt safe in his arms. It was good to be home.

They transferred her suitcases to his Cadillac before she went into the building to turn in her key. When she returned to her father’s side, he was holding her roses out to her. She took them from him, inhaling their sweet scent deeply, as he held the door for her to get into the car.

“So, who’re those from?” he asked, five minutes into the drive.

“A friend.” Kelsey focused on the flowers.

“Really?” George Morgan laughed, a hearty sound, and she could tell he didn’t believe her.

“Yes, really.” She held back a giggle.

“Does this friend have a name?”

“Oh, Dad, c’mon. I don’t see you for three and a half months and this is what you want to talk about?” Kelsey desperately needed to change the subject. Until she figured things out for herself, Patrick Lyons was the last thing she wanted to talk to her father about.

As if on cue, she got a text message from Patrick, asking whether she was home yet. She glanced at the clock and realized it had been more than five hours since she’d left the hotel. She’d stopped for a long lunch and a couple of restroom breaks, which had added to her time. She smiled as she texted him back.

“Was that your friend?” her father asked.

“Yes.” She looked out of her window, trying to hide her glee.

“The one who gave you the flowers?”

Sometimes she hated having a lawyer for a father.

“Yes,” she replied.

“Why’d he text you?”

“To see if I was home yet.” She held the roses to her face and breathed deeply again.

“Could this be more than a friendship?” he asked.

Kelsey turned to him. “Dad.”

“Baby girl, I’m just curious. A father likes to know his daughter is well taken care of.” He continued his typical rant about her safety, her happiness, and wanting her to find someone to love. For the first time in years, she actually listened to him and took his words to heart. When he’d finished, he looked at her for a moment. “You can’t live the rest of your life afraid of finding another Tim.”

“I know.”

“You’re over him, right? It’s been what? Five and a half years?”

Kelsey looked at him. His brow was furrowed as he focused on the road in front of them.

“Closer to six,” she murmured as she looked away.

“Well, it’s time to move on.”

“Daddy, I
have
moved on from Tim. I haven’t thought of him for years,” she protested and started to feel like she was in high school again. “It’s just harder to find a good guy than you think.”

The image of Patrick’s smiling face flashed through her mind, followed by the concerned look he’d worn in the hospital. She could almost feel his arms around her as she’d cried on his shoulder, as they’d danced, and as they’d kissed. Guiltily, she realized he was one of the best men she’d met in a long time. How had she been so wrong?

“Kelsey, honey,” her father said softly. “Have you really tried?”

“No,” she answered with a pout.

“You’ve had one bad experience. That doesn’t mean you’re doomed to fail with all men.”

She sighed. “Dad, you know how bad it was.”

“You got through it.” He reached across the divide and grabbed her hand.

“At what cost?” Kelsey scoffed. Tears stung her eyes as she briefly considered what she’d had to give up.

“Making choices is a part of life, darling.” George Morgan squeezed his daughter’s hand before releasing it and placing his back on the steering wheel. “Sometimes it’s hard, but it only makes you stronger for the next one.”

Kelsey nodded her agreement. “But I don’t want to make another mistake.”

Her phone vibrated in her lap and she picked it up. Patrick had texted her back. He was happy she was riding with her father and wanted to know if she’d still call him when she got home. She held the open phone in her lap as she looked out the window and considered her response.

“Then don’t,” came her father’s gentle comment from beside her. She turned to look at him as he shrugged a shoulder. “The choice is always yours to make, Kelsey, you just need to make sure it’s the right one for you. Then regardless of what happens, it won’t be a mistake.”

She stared at her father’s relaxed face and felt the turmoil she’d been feeling for the last several weeks fade away. When had he become so philosophical?

And why hadn’t he offered this advice six years ago?

She turned to look out her window and consider Patrick’s text message. After passing a few houses, she finally answered: Yes.

Thirteen

“A
unt Kelsey!” Zach jumped off the school bus and ran into her open arms.

Kelsey and her father had beaten the bus home, but she’d only had enough time to take a deep breath of fresh country air, glance at her two-story, white-sided farmhouse, and give her sister a quick greeting before she’d met it.

“Hey buddy!” A tear slid down her cheek and she squeezed him tighter. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too. You home for good?” he asked as she put him down, his big blue eyes filled with excitement.

“No, honey,” Kelsey said sadly. “But I’ll be here until January.” She ruffled his dirty blond hair.

“Good.”

He put his small hand in hers and they strolled to the house. Kelsey dragged the five-minute walk out to fifteen as he told her all about school and his friends. When Zach saw his grandpa sitting on the porch swing, he ran the rest of the way. He gave George a hug and, after a brief conversation about his day, went inside. George and Kelsey followed him, and Kelsey took a moment to look around the room, taking everything in and falling in love with her house all over again.

Two large, white columns separated the entryway from the living room to her left. The walls of the room were painted a fresh, beige color, blending with the browns and tans in the stone fireplace on the far wall. The large sofa and two armchairs were a matching blue, with brown and beige flecks woven into the fabric. Two more columns separated the entryway from the kitchen, in the back right corner, allowing Kelsey to see straight through to the rear of the house. To Kelsey’s right were steps to the second floor, her luggage sitting beside the base.

George told Kelsey again how good it was to have her home, hugged both of his daughters, and left. Kelsey went to the large bay window in the living room and watched her father drive away.

“So?” Janelle put her hands on Kelsey’s upper arms and her chin on Kelsey’s shoulder. There was a question in her voice, but Kelsey wasn’t sure what it was.

“So?” Kelsey repeated.

“Your first major motion picture. How was it? It must’ve been exciting.”

Kelsey turned and grinned. Janelle smiled back, but her face gave Kelsey pause. Janelle was only thirty-two, five years older than Kelsey, but her pale green eyes looked remarkably dull and gray hair was just starting to touch the edge of her face, lightening her blonde hair.

When had her sister started to age?

Kelsey shook off her observations. “It was definitely a different experience.”

“Is that a good thing?” she asked.

With a shrug, Kelsey walked over to the suitcases to retrieve the gifts she’d bought for the children. As soon as she’d handed them out, her phone rang. She quickly stepped out to the porch.

Feeling extraordinarily pleased, she answered it. “Hi. I’m home.”

“I thought you were going to call me,” Patrick said, sounding slightly hurt.

“Sorry.” She explained everything she’d done since she got home.

“Busy already.” He tsk tsk’ed a few times. “You’ll probably forget all about me in a few days.”

“I doubt that.” Kelsey’s chest tightened at the thought—not of her forgetting him, but of him forgetting her.

“I guess we’ll see.”

She could almost picture the joy she heard in Patrick’s voice on his face. Kelsey closed her eyes and sighed deeply.

“Do you want me to let you go?”

“Not really,” Kelsey said before thinking. Her cheeks warmed a little and he laughed quietly. She was surprised by how much she missed him already. “But I guess I should for now. Janelle will probably have a thousand questions.”

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll talk to you later then?”

“That’d be nice.”

“Kelsey.”

“Yes?”

“I . . .” Patrick started, but paused. She heard a sharp intake of air. “I miss you. I’ll talk to you soon.”

They exchanged good-byes and she considered her phone for a moment. She was sure he’d stumbled over his words again. As if he’d wanted to say something but then changed his mind. As she put her phone in her pocket, she walked back into the house. Janelle looked at her when she walked through the door then turned to the kids with their new toys. Kelsey retrieved a bag of new clothes for them and handed it to Janelle then sat beside her on the window seat.

“You shouldn’t have,” Janelle said as she went through the bag, pulling out each piece and looking at it.

Kelsey waved it off. “It’s no big deal. They can always use new clothes.”

Janelle thanked her and turned her attention back to the children. After a few minutes, she turned to Kelsey. “Who called?”

Kelsey eyed her for a moment, debating. She was sure her sister would make a bigger deal out of it than the situation warranted. With a sigh of resignation, Kelsey looked at the children before replying. “Patrick.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Kelsey watched Janelle’s expression change. Slowly, her eyes widened as her mouth fell open. When she closed it, a huge grin took its place and she hit Kelsey on the arm.

“
The
Patrick?”

Kelsey recoiled and rubbed her arm as she nodded.

“Patrick Lyons?”

Kelsey nodded again. Excitement built in her chest, then despite her best efforts spilled out onto her face.

“Are you two an item now?”

Kelsey shook her head. “You know, I really hate that term.” She glanced silently at Janelle and was met by a raised eyebrow. When Janelle narrowed her eyes, Kelsey’s smile faded. “No, we’re just friends.”

“Just friends? Did
he
give you the flowers?”

Kelsey nodded.

“But you’re just friends?”

Kelsey was starting to feel like a bobble head.

Janelle stood, pulled Kelsey to her feet, and dragged her to the kitchen. Kelsey leaned against the marble countertop, letting the silence stretch. Janelle folded her arms across her chest and glared at her sister.

“What?” Kelsey asked innocently.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” Janelle asked. Kelsey shook her head. “Nothing?”

“No. Why don’t you believe me?”

“Because I get the feeling
you
are hiding something.” Janelle raised her chin, almost daring Kelsey to argue.

“
You
are too much like our father.” Kelsey jumped to sit on the counter.

“There must be something going on if he’s giving you roses and calling to check up on you.”

“It’s nothing. He was just a little worried about me driving so far alone.” Kelsey spied a bag of her favorite potato chips, unopened, on the counter beside her. She grabbed the bag, opened it, and started to snack. If her mouth was full, she couldn’t answer her sister’s questions.

“Has he ridden with you before then?” Janelle uncrossed her arms and leaned against the island that was directly across from Kelsey. She held her hand out and Kelsey passed her the bag.

“Ha ha, very funny,” Kelsey said around a mouthful of chips. “I’m a good driver. I’ve only had one accident.”

Janelle frowned at Kelsey. They both knew that sometimes one accident was all it took. “Well, then why was he worried?”