Small-Town Girl (9 page)

“Kendall,” he whispered. “You're not acting like yourself right now. Tell me what's going on in your head. I want to help.”

Last night she'd been so open with him, talking about her past and listening to his dark memories. He wanted to rewind and find that Kendall again. Usually silence worked on Brice like a comfortable blanket on a cold night. Usually it soothed him, but tonight silence hurt.

She descended the ladder, but he kept his hands resting on her waistline. “What we did—help make their special moment memorable—that was really great.”

“I'm beginning to think we make an excellent team.” Brice tried to ease her closer, but Kendall shifted her weight and stepped out of his hold completely.

“Correct. We're a well-matched business team.” She nodded but didn't meet his eyes with hers.

He sidestepped and ducked his head to catch her gaze. “Just in business?”

“It's best if that's how it is.” She studied the pointy toes of her shoes.

Gently Brice tipped her chin up with two of his fingers. “Best for who?” His whisper died on a groan. She was so close and smelled like flowers and chocolate and he wanted to lean in and discover if her lips would meld to his. “Kendall?” He spoke her name like a question. Asking permission.

She shook her head and turned her back on him. “I think you got the wrong idea last night. I'm not... You're not... It's not like that.”

“I see.” Brice straightened his spine. “You're sure?”

“Yes. I think... I'm sure.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

Maybe a camping trip
was
in order. He had a lot to think through. He needed to line up all the reasons why being alone—why not trusting women—made sense so he wouldn't fall into this situation again. This trap. That was what it felt like, and not the safe-release kind. No. Rejection bit through the heart like the metal teeth of a bear trap, severing.

She started to turn back toward him. “Brice, I don't want—”

“Why don't you head home?” He unlatched the entrance door and held it open for her. “I'd rather finish here alone.”

She must have sensed that he would have argued with her, or she was simply relieved to leave. That could be it too. Because she didn't fight him as usual. Instead she slipped out onto the pier. She hesitated. “Night and...I'm...I'm sorry.”

He couldn't make out her expression in the dark. “There's nothing to be sorry for.”

After she left he spent another hour on the boat, taking down the lights and thinking. She'd warned him that she was a serial dater. All but put up red flags, but like an idiot he'd charged ahead. At least she'd stopped him before he made a complete fool of himself, like what he'd done with Audra.

Had anyone ever wanted him? Truly? Audra hadn't.

It's your fault. If you hadn't been born I wouldn't be stuck with your father.
His mother's words roared through his mind.

He hopped onto the pier and slammed the paddle wheeler's door shut. Perhaps if he hightailed it home fast enough, he could outrun the voices in his mind. Push them aside.

You're a good man, Brice Daniels.

Yeah? Well, apparently not good enough.

Chapter Eight

K
endall slipped into the second-to-last aisle of church right before the worship song ended. At the front, Kellen Ashby signaled the band to stop playing and everyone's voices joined together to fill the room. Having not grown up attending any sort of church, Kendall didn't know the song, but she wished she did.

She hadn't felt that way in a long time.

Four years ago while she was still in Kentucky, a coworker at the country club she worked at had talked her into attending a women's retreat weekend with her. Little had Kendall known at the time that it was a church-sponsored event. She probably wouldn't have agreed to go if she had known.

Before that weekend, Kendall had acknowledged that God existed. It was all but impossible to see the foothills of the Appalachians every day and not acknowledge that someone had to create them. Beauty like that didn't happen by chance. But acknowledging the presence of a creator and actually submitting to that creator were two very different things.

The retreat weekend with her friend had quickly chipped away at Kendall's doubts. The women there had been sincere, and they hadn't judged her when she admitted her hesitancy toward trusting in God. That Saturday night Kendall found herself on her knees with her forehead pressed into the ground, crying and asking God to be a part of her life. For the first time ever, she'd fallen asleep believing she was fully loved and accepted. Perhaps if she could have lived at the retreat center with those women forever, she'd still feel that way.

But normal life crashed in on her right away that Monday. Overdue bills and foul words from her mother smacked her back into reality. The feelings of acceptance and love faded and she stuffed the memory of becoming a Christian into the deepest corner of her heart. Sure, she still believed in God and held on to the fact that she was supposed to have an active and growing relationship with Him, but the relationship dissolved quickly into one that looked like an emotionally scarred teenager yelling at and acting out against her foster parents.

That was what God had become to her lately. A foster parent stuck with her, not a father who wanted to adopt her forever. A visitor she should smile for and act politely toward, as opposed to family she could break down in front of and be real with.

People at her old church told her it was wrong to feel that way. Some claimed it was sinful even, but that was how she felt, and if it was evil to think like that, then mark another failure on the list. Another reason for God to turn His back on her.

The seat next to her creaked, causing Kendall to glance over to see who had joined her. Loose blond curls tumbling around her shoulders, Jenna Crest mouthed
hello
and helped her father get situated. Kendall had met Jenna a couple times at the women's Bible study that they both sporadically attended. All of her interactions with the younger woman made Kendall believe Jenna was very sweet and very devoted to taking care of her sickly father and their apple orchard.

At the front, Kellen closed out the worship portion of the service by making a couple announcements—upcoming church picnic, vacation Bible school needs and rules for the end-of-the-month rummage sale—and then he ended with a prayer. “God, I ask that You open the hearts of the people in attendance. Let their hearts be soft and fertile ground this morning for the word You want them to hear. Bless Pastor Song's message, and thank You for being a God who not only meets us here in the sanctuary but wants to meet us in our everyday life. In the name of Your son, Jesus, we ask all these things. Amen.”

Pastor Song took the stage and thanked Kellen for leading such heartfelt worship before he launched into preaching. “This morning we'll continue our study through the Psalms by focusing on Psalms chapter nine.”

More than a month ago, when Kendall first arrived in Goose Harbor, she'd questioned the wisdom of the church hiring a pastor as young as Jacob Song. He was twenty-eight at most. Not too removed from seminary and he had only two years under his belt of working as an assistant pastor elsewhere. But one Sunday spent listening to his passionate sermons, and Kendall was sold.

As the pastor read over the passage, a line tugged on Kendall's heart. “
Those who know Your name trust in You, for You, Lord, have never forsaken those who seek You.
This translation uses the word
forsaken
, but some others translate the word to be
abandon
. In the history of earth, God has never abandoned someone who sought Him. Not once. Let that sink in.”

Kendall sat up a little straighter. That couldn't be right. God had abandoned her, hadn't He? The second life got hard, He felt far away.

The pastor continued speaking. “If we've felt the sting of abandonment, it did not come from God's side of the relationship. Later in Scripture Jesus proclaims that He is always with us and will continue to be until the end of the world. Has the world ended yet? It has not. Despite what your emotions tell you, Jesus stands beside you in the midst of everything you're experiencing today.”

Kendall rubbed the palm of her hand back and forth over her chest. The pastor's words were making her heart ache as seedlings of truth, planted long ago, worked their way through the cracks of her childhood pain.

“Believe me.” Pastor Song stepped down from the stage to walk into the aisle. “I understand that very often it doesn't feel like God is with us all the time. We struggle because we can't physically see Jesus beside us or feel Him holding our hands on our roughest days. But that is why He has called us to live in community. So we can be the tangible hands of God, caring for one another and blessing one another.”

Kendall watched as the pastor walked closer, feeling as if he were speaking directly to her.

“But relationships are hard, aren't they? We're imperfect beings, and no matter how much we don't want to, we're going to end up hurting each other. When we open ourselves up to the people God has placed in our lives, friends, that's a downright scary thing because you are offering your heart with the understanding that within any human relationship there will be pain at some point. But you must, because without community—without relationships—you are not living the fullness of life God desires for you. The beauty of it all is that within the pain of relationships, we learn grace and forgiveness and love—which are some of the most prized attributes in the Bible.”

Kendall swallowed around the tightness in her throat. She didn't hear the rest of the sermon because her heart sang so loudly, demanding a response. She wanted to drop onto her knees and cry out to God as she had done at the retreat long ago.

Guilt clawed at her throat, making her tug at the collar of her shirt. She'd shoved so many people out of her life. Every person God tried to place near her she had rejected before anyone had been able to leave her. When she arrived in Goose Harbor she'd planned to live differently than before, and sure, she'd stopped dating, but beyond that, she was the same old Kendall. Tossing every chance of possible friendship aside and keeping her relationships superficial. She'd attended the women's Bible study to meet people, but she'd immediately turned down invitations from Maggie and Paige to join them for lunch or spend time at their homes.

Kendall's eyes found Brice in the sanctuary. He sat six rows forward, to the left, flanked by his sister and his brother. The tilt of his head and his arm let her know he was taking notes. A longing welled in Kendall's heart. She wanted to be seated beside those broad shoulders. The words she'd whispered to him—
you're a good man, Brice Daniels
—were true, and yet they weren't enough. Brice was the best of men. Patient, kind, compassionate and thoughtful—it sounded as though he'd stood in the gap and protected his siblings from the wrath of their father on more than one occasion. She had no doubt that Brice, and perhaps he alone, could understand the scars on her soul that she hid from everyone.

God had placed Brice in Kendall's life for a reason, hadn't He?

And she'd been placed in his to help him. To be God's hands in Brice's life and offer him the opportunity to show his scars too. Yet she'd failed him. Like a spoiled child throwing a tantrum over a gift, she'd slammed the door on their growing relationship the second she felt vulnerable. In doing so, she hadn't only hurt her spiritual growth, but put a roadblock in Brice's growth too.

I'm so selfish.
Uninhibited by the fact that the pastor was beginning the closing prayer, Kendall dropped her face into her hands and started to cry.
Forgive me, Lord. I've been so selfish. I've only thought about me and my own pain and haven't considered You or anyone else You've placed in my life. Help me to trust people. I want to do what Pastor Song said—to be Your hands in other people's lives—but I don't know what that looks like. But I'm willing.

Kendall stiffened as an arm draped around her shoulders.

Jenna squeezed Kendall to her side. “If you want to talk or pray after service, I'm available.”

Be open. Be available.

She had to apologize to Brice but couldn't do it right this second anyway. Even after Pastor Song dismissed the congregation, Brice filed out with his siblings at his side. She wasn't able to catch his eye. Jenna was here and was offering her friendship, and Kendall wasn't about to pass that up.

Kendall scrubbed at her cheeks and smiled at Jenna. “I'd like that very much.”

* * *

Brice popped the top off the canister of sea salt and sprinkled it liberally over the venison steaks he'd set out on the counter.

Evan headed back to his own home soon after they returned from church, but his sister had asked to stay for the rest of the day. She usually did anymore. They'd opened all the windows to alleviate the stuffy indoor air. His cabin stayed relatively cool due mostly to the thick canopy of trees surrounding his home, but some days he wished he'd invested in a box air-conditioning unit. For today, however, the large ceiling fan and open windows would have to do. Birdsong carried through the screens, providing music. He and Laura fell into their usual, comfortable routine.

His sister sat on a stool with her elbows propped on the kitchen island and her chin in her hand. “You know salt is bad for you, don't you?”

He dumped some grapeseed oil onto the cast-iron grill. “You can't believe everything you read on the internet.”

She slapped the top of his counter. “It's not just the internet. The studies come from, like, the national heart research center or something.”

The oil pinged in the pan, sizzling as it began to heat. He gave Laura a
you're killing me
look. “Do you want me to make you lunch or not?” As if to tempt her, the smell of the sizzling venison intensified.

“Bring on the salt.” She tossed her hands in the air and laughed. “Although, you're using an awful lot of oil there, big bro.”

“Are you going to critique my entire meal?”

She tapped her finger on her chin, goading him. “Probably.”

“Just checking.” He winked at her.

She unzipped the backpack she'd slung onto the counter before church and pulled out a chemistry book for the summer-school course she was taking and a binder. “I love you.”

“Good, because you're going to flip when you see the amount of butter I add to the skillet in a minute.” He tweaked her nose. “And I love you too, kid.”

“I'm not a kid.” She flipped open a folder full of schoolwork, but he didn't miss the suppressed smile that flitted across her lips.

“Love you anyway.”

He flipped the steaks on the grill to cook the other side; smoke and popping sounds poured from the skillet, a sure sign that the steaks were getting a good searing and would be juicy. His mouth started to water. This was the life. Steaks. Family. What more could he want?

Then again, he couldn't expect Laura to drop in on him forever—to provide company. She was sixteen, but she was taking summer courses with the intention of graduating early. She'd be an adult in the very near future and wouldn't need to run to her big brother for safety anymore. In the next few years she'd go away to college and might leave forever the way their brother Andrew had. Then what? Brice would be alone for real. Evan might live nearby and be his closest friend, but Evan had his own life, his own interests, and he didn't consider spending the day in the cabin a good time.

Pastor Song had said that people were made to be in relationships. That Brice wasn't supposed to be spending his life alone. Despite his declaration that he would never trust a woman again after having his heart broken by Audra, Brice didn't want to end up a bachelor forever. For a moment he pictured Kendall seated on the stool beside Laura, helping his sister with her homework and joining in as she teased Brice. The image felt so real and right it made his chest ache.

Laura's voice broke through his thoughts. “You know she likes you, right?”

Spatula in hand, Brice froze. “Who likes me?”

“Kendall.”

He swiveled to see his sister. How did she know he'd been thinking about the very woman? A chill worked its way over the back of his neck. “How—”

Laura rolled her eyes. “You just said her name. Out loud. While you were cooking.”

“I did?” He dumped a ramekin full of butter into the skillet with the steaks and spooned the butter over them as it melted, sealing in the flavors.

She dipped her head in a dramatic nod. “You did. It was creepy. I even looked over at the door to see if she'd come in. When she wasn't there, I thought maybe you had a Bluetooth on. But you're Mr. Kill Technology, so that ruled out the Bluetooth theory pretty quick.”

Grease popped on the skillet, showering his arm with tiny stings. “Sorry.”

“For what? Liking a girl? It's not as if that's a crime.” She pulled her hair together and piled it all into a huge bun on top of her head and then jammed her pencil through the middle of it. “The real issue here is... What are you going to do about it?”