The Promise of Home (Love Inspired) (5 page)

“No thanks, sweetie.”

Logan joined them. “But it’s bigger than the one you found this morning.”

Dev had to ask. He just had to. “Did she scream?”

Logan thought about that. “A little.”

“It was in the bathtub,” Tori added. “And it was huuuge.”

“Aunt Jenna took its picture. She said it was so big that we could put a leash on it and take it for a walk around the block—”

“Why don’t you two go inside and get washed up?” Jenna cut in. “We haven’t had breakfast yet.”

As far as diversions went, it might not have been subtle but it was effective. The children headed toward the cabin. Dev grabbed hold of Violet’s collar before she included herself in the invitation.

“So. A spider.” Dev’s lips twitched.

“I’m sure you’ve seen them before,” Jenna said tartly.

“Not one that I could put a leash on and take for a walk around the block.”

Jenna whipped out her phone again and scrolled through the pictures, stopping at the close-up of a spider roughly the size of the designer dog Elaina had carried around in her purse.

Dev blinked. Okay, it
was
that big.

“What did you do? Throw your shoe at it?” He’d been kidding…until he saw the guilty look on Jenna’s face.

“You threw your shoe at it?”

“Yes, but I didn’t think I’d actually
hit
it.”

“I’m shocked.”

“So was I.” The husky laugh that followed packed more of a punch than Jenna’s smile.

While Dev was recovering from the impact, she veered toward the cabin. Tossed a smug look over her shoulder.

“And
you
said they weren’t practical.”

Dev closed his eyes, but there she was—engraved in his memory—ready to return at a moment’s notice.

So maybe Jenna wasn’t a clone of Elaina, but she was obviously a city girl.

There was no point getting involved with someone who’d made no secret of the fact that she couldn’t wait to leave Mirror Lake, the only place in the world that Dev wanted to be.

Jenna was right. Boundaries weren’t such a bad idea.

For all of them.

Chapter Five

“H
elloooo!”

A lilting voice rose above the rattle of the ancient ceiling fan that paddled in lazy circles above Jenna’s head, dispersing humid air to every corner of the cabin.

The children, who’d been playing a lively game of Go Fish while Jenna washed the breakfast dishes, leaped to their feet.

“It’s Kate!” Logan shouted on his way to the door.

Jenna tried not to feel envious. Even though the cafe owner had gone out of her way to make Jenna feel welcome since she’d arrived in Mirror Lake, the children’s exuberant greeting was a painful reminder that Kate Nichols knew her niece and nephew better than she did.

The petite redhead scooped up Tori and anchored her against one slender hip. “How are you doing, strawberry shortcake?”

Tori giggled. “I’m not shortcake.”

“That’s right.” Kate’s clover green eyes twinkled. “You’re much sweeter.” She planted a kiss on the little girl’s temple and reached down to ruffle Logan’s bangs. “How are you doing, buddy?”

“I caught a fish this morning.”

“Well, that answers that question.” Kate winked at Jenna over his head.

“It’s good to see you, Kate,” Jenna said. Although she’d hoped to have the cabin looking a bit more presentable before anyone stopped over.

She’d planned to do some cleaning and then take the children into town to pick up some groceries. A quick inventory of the cupboards had yielded a few cans of soup and a box of macaroni and cheese. Fortunately, Abby had insisted Jenna take a basket of homemade cinnamon rolls and a quiche with her when they’d left the lodge, so breakfast had been covered.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call first.” Kate set Tori down on the floor. “We wanted to surprise you.”

We?

As if on cue, a young woman with a cap of cherry-cola curls trudged into the cabin, a colorful plastic tote gripped in each hand.

“’Morning, Jenna!”

Jenna recognized the visitor immediately. Zoey Decker and her fiancé, Matthew Wilde, were close friends of the O’Hallorans and had dropped by the inn to visit while Jenna and the children were staying there.

The couple planned to exchange their vows at the inn on Christmas Eve, and Abby was in charge of the event.

“Zoey.” Jenna greeted her cautiously.

“I hope we’re not too early,” Zoey sang out, and in the next breath, “Where do you want this stuff?” The question was directed at Kate, who pointed to the kitchen.

Jenna’s gaze cut back to the woman clearly in charge of the operation. “What’s going on?”

“A housewarming party,” Kate said.

“You provide the house, we provide the party.” Zoey swept past her with a grin.

Kate saw Jenna’s confusion and took pity on her. “We’re here to help you spruce things up a bit. Stanley Lambert, the guy who owns this cabin, is one of my regulars at the cafe and he let it sit empty for years. I figured if he hasn’t updated his wardrobe for forty years, chances are he hasn’t done anything to this place, either.”

While Jenna was recovering from the shock of the unexpected invasion, the screen door swung open again. Warm, blue-gray eyes peered at Jenna over an enormous picnic basket. The fingers of one hand fanned a greeting.

“Emma Sutton.” Kate took charge of the introductions this time. “This is Jenna Gardner—Logan and Tori’s aunt.” She smiled at Jenna. “You already met Emma’s husband, Jake.”

“Hi.” Emma flashed a friendly smile.

Sutton.
The police chief. Jenna searched the woman’s face but didn’t see a hint of judgment that she’d met Jake under less than ideal circumstances. He was the one who’d called Grace Eversea the night that Shelly had started the fire.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she murmured.

Emma set the picnic basket down on the scarred Formica table. “Logan and my son, Jeremy, have gotten to be good friends over the past few weeks.”

Logan’s face lit up when he heard the boy’s name. “Is Jeremy here?”

“Are you kidding? There was no way he was going to stay home once he found out where I was going. He’s unloading some things from the car.”

“Cool! I’m going outside, Aunt Jenna.” Logan dashed out the door, Tori at his heels.

“Jeremy is twelve and very responsible,” Emma assured her. “He doesn’t mind keeping an eye on Logan and Tori while we work.”

Kate frowned. “Speaking of work…where’s Abby?”

“I’m right here.” Abby O’Halloran breezed into the cabin, dropped a box into the lap of the lumpy tweed recliner and reeled Jenna in for a hug.

A
hug.
As if they’d known each other forever rather than just a few days. Then she stepped back and looked Jenna straight in the eye.

“How are you?”

Jenna opened her mouth, ready to give her standard response, but something in Abby’s compassionate gaze seemed to require an honest response.

“I’m…not sure.”

Abby nodded, as if that made perfect sense. “That’s why we’re here.”

Zoey parked her hands on her hips. “Where should we start?”

Jenna felt her control slipping. “Really…you don’t have to—”

“Of course we don’t.” Kate cut off her protest, her brisk tone matching her movements as she began to unpack an arsenal of cleaning supplies. “We
want
to. You move to a small town, you get the small town treatment.”

Jenna had already experienced that, and the memories weren’t pleasant ones. People had either ignored her family or gossiped about them, but no one had ever offered to help.

“Jake mentioned the fire didn’t do much damage, but we figured a few little touches might make you feel more at…” Emma’s voice trailed off.

For the first time, the visitors seemed to become aware of their surroundings. The dark paneling that shadowed the walls. The shabby furnishings. The scorch mark on the scuffed hardwood floor, evidence of what could have been a fatal mistake.

Forget the fact that she lived in a gated community with a waiting list that stretched into the next decade. Jenna was suddenly eight years old again, facing the girls that had drifted over to meet her the day she’d moved into the neighborhood.

She had invited them in to play, but the pigtail posse created their own game. They’d spent the morning poking fun at the tiny garage apartment. And at her.

The scenario continued through high school. Different towns, the same response. Being measured by her peers and found wanting. Old insecurities, the ones Jenna thought she had put behind her, began to creep in as Kate and her friends surveyed the cabin.

“It’s got a lot of potential,” Abby declared.

Emma saw Jenna’s expression and laughed. “Abby’s bed-and-breakfast needed three times this much work when she bought it. She welcomes a challenge.”

“Which explains Quinn,” Kate whispered.

Abby gave her friend a playful swat on the arm. “This from the woman who fell in love with my bossy big brother. Most people run in the opposite direction when they see Alex coming.”

Zoey must have noticed Jenna’s bemusement.

“They can be a little overwhelming, can’t they?” she said in a low voice. “The first time I met them, they bullied me into joining their knitting group.”

Abby heard her. “Bullied isn’t quite the word…oh, maybe it is. But you’ll get used to us,” she added with a bright smile at Jenna.

Jenna didn’t contradict her, even though she knew she wouldn’t be in Mirror Lake long enough to join a knitting group. Or any other kind of group, for that matter.

Watching the way the four friends interacted, with genuine affection and acceptance, Jenna wondered what it would be like to be included in their close-knit circle.

Other than a weekly cappuccino date with Caitlin Walsh, the image consultant Jenna had met while working on a special makeover issue for the magazine, the majority of Jenna’s time and energy were devoted to her readers.

The door opened and an adolescent boy walked in, balancing a bulky object on his shoulder. Judging from the smoke blue eyes and sandy brown hair, this was Emma’s son, Jeremy. He flashed a shy smile at Jenna before turning to Abby. “Where did you want this, Mrs. O’Halloran?”

Abby pointed to the floor. “Right over there.”

Jenna watched Zoey and Kate kneel down and unroll the hand-hooked wool rug. A butter-yellow border outlined a stunning bouquet of wildflowers in the pattern. The colors brightened the room—and completely covered the blackened area on the hardwood floor.

“This was delivered to the inn yesterday, but the order was wrong,” Abby explained. “It was too small for the library…but I think it might be just right for you.”

Tears stung the back of Jenna’s eyes and she blinked them away before anyone noticed.

“It’s perfect, Abby,” Emma said. “And the colors just
happen
to coordinate with the curtains I brought over.”

For some reason, the rest of the women smiled when she emphasized the word.

“How much do I owe you?” Jenna had read the home style section of
Twin City Trends
often enough to know that a custom designed rug this size would have cost a small fortune.

“It’s a gift.” Abby linked her arm through Jenna’s. “A reminder that God provides exactly what we need when we need it.”

Jenna didn’t know how to respond to that. It was something she’d often heard Caitlin Walsh say, but she’d never experienced it before. It was risky to wait. To hope that someone would notice her. That someone would…care.

“He does,” Abby murmured.

Jenna stared at her, afraid she’d voiced the thought out loud, but the other woman was already gliding away.

“We’ll have this place looking like home in no time,” Zoey said, a determined gleam in her eyes as she advanced on the dusty bearskin rug tacked to the wall.

“Okay, sisters.” Kate tightened the knot on the bandana covering her copper curls as if she were preparing for battle. “Divide and conquer.”

* * *

Dev tossed a piece of birch bark into the campfire and sat back to enjoy the shower of sparks as the flames consumed it. There had been a time when he would have scoffed at such simple entertainment. When he’d believed that a man who had time to sit by a campfire had too much time.

He took out his pocketknife and began to sharpen the end of a stick.

Violet, stretched out on a old trapper’s blanket beside him, lifted her head and stared into the deepening shadows at the edge of the woods.

Dev had a hunch he knew what—or who—had caught the dog’s attention.

For the past few days, Logan Gardner had been sneaking across the property line to play with Violet. And when he didn’t show up, Violet had been sneaking across the property line to play with
him.

Dev figured it was only a matter of time until Jenna marched over to register a formal complaint.

“Violet.” He crooked a finger at the blanket, earning a reproachful look. The same one he’d seen the last time he’d given her a bath.
“Stay.”

She flopped back down, her heavy sigh questioning the fairness of the command.

“Trust me—it’s for your own good,” Dev told the dog.

His, too. The less contact he had with Jenna the better. Dev had spent the last five years trying to simplify his life, and everything about the woman shouted complicated.

The fact that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her proved it.

“Hi, Mr. McGuire.” Logan slunk out of the woods a few seconds later, shoulders hunched as if he were unsure of his welcome. A coonskin cap, the kind sold at every souvenir store in the county, drooped over one bright blue eye.

“It’s Dev, remember?”

Logan shuffled closer, the faux raccoon tail swinging over one shoulder like a furry pendulum. “I smelled smoke, and I wanted to make sure you and Violet were okay.”

The anxious look in the boy’s eyes reminded Dev that he’d recently witnessed a fire, one that hadn’t been contained in a circle of stones. Jenna had claimed that no one had been hurt, but Dev knew from experience that not all injuries were visible on the outside.

Guilt tweaked his conscience. He’d been traveling a lot since the beginning of summer, but how could he have been ignorant of the fact there were two children living next door?

Other than the day he’d met Jenna, he hadn’t heard a peep out of them. Not even Violet had alerted Dev to their presence.

“I appreciate your concern,” he told Logan gently. “But it’s just a campfire. I usually cook my dinner out here in the evenings.”

Violet lifted her nose to sniff the raccoon tail and Logan giggled. “She thinks it’s real.”

“That’s a great hat.”

“Kate found it when she was cleaning the closet.” Logan swept the cap off his head. Imitation fur sifted to the ground like needles on a dead spruce when he offered it to Dev to admire.

“Kate Nichols?” It was the only Kate that Dev knew. From what he’d heard, the perky cafe owner was the poster girl for hometown pride, scouting out unsuspecting victims to serve on the various committees she organized. Because of that, Dev gave the woman a wide berth on his occasional trips into town.