The Promise of Home (Love Inspired) (8 page)

* * *

Jenna remained silent throughout the meal, anticipating the children’s needs and encouraging them to try a bite of everything while the food on her plate remained virtually untouched.

Tori chatted about everything from the red squirrel that lived in the tree outside her bedroom window to the new clothes the mailman had delivered that morning.

Jenna smiled occasionally, but Dev couldn’t help but notice a subtle change in her demeanor as they ate. One he traced back to the moment he’d quoted the passage in Psalms.

Or maybe, Dev chided himself, Jenna was simply used to more scintillating company.

Tori giggled when Violet stalked a fuzzy brown and black caterpillar through the grass. The dog was doing a better job entertaining their guests than he was.

As soon as their plates were empty, Logan and Tori ran off to play. Jenna began to clean up, a sure sign she was ready to call it a night.

Her next words confirmed it. “Thank you for supper. We should probably be getting back soon. It’s getting close to Logan and Tori’s bedtime.”

Dev checked the fire and saw nothing left but a few glowing coals.

“I’ll walk you home.”

“That’s not necessary,” Jenna said quickly.

“No matter what you think of me, my mama raised a gentleman.” She’d also made him attend weeks of etiquette classes when he was ten years old but Jenna didn’t need to know that.

Tori drifted over, a bouquet of limp daisies clutched in her hand. “Can you carry me? My legs feel heavy.”

She lifted up her arms.

To him.

“Jenna?”

The expression on her pretty face made it clear that he wasn’t supposed to be part of her exit plan. But while she had no trouble saying no to him, Tori was another story.

It would have been easier, Jenna thought, if Dev had gone all Neanderthal and overruled her decision. But he left it up to her.

“All right.” Jenna gave in. Again. A short walk and a quick thank you. She could do that.

Dev settled Tori into the crook of his arm. “We’ll take the trail by the shoreline instead of through the woods this time.”

Logan pressed himself against Dev’s side, searching for shapes that didn’t belong in the deepening shadows. “Because of the bears?”

Jenna couldn’t believe that he actually sounded a little excited about the possibility.

“Worse,” Dev whispered as he handed her nephew the flashlight. “Mosquitoes.”

Logan’s gurgle of laughter vibrated through the evening air and Jenna soaked in the sound as they set out. It wasn’t often that her nephew let his guard down long enough to laugh the way a seven-year-old boy
should
laugh.

Watching him chase Violet around Dev’s yard and climb imaginary mountains were good for a child who’d had too much responsibility placed on his shoulders.

Jenna knew what that felt like.

“Shhh.” Dev paused for a moment and pointed to the shoreline. A doe stood at the edge of the water, her nose to the wind, velvet ears twitching.

Tori lifted her head from his shoulder and blinked, her eyes already at half-mast. “It’s a deer.”

“Wait,” Dev whispered. He looked down at Violet and put a finger to his lips. The dog obediently settled at his feet.

A heartbeat later, two spindly legged fawns emerged from the shadows and ambled to their mother’s side.

While the doe kept watch, the twins began a playful game of tag, romping through the shallow water and kicking up sand like children on a day at the beach.

Dev, who’d started out in the lead, had somehow ended up beside her. The breeze stirred the air, combining the rich texture of pine and water with a clean, masculine scent that Jenna was beginning to recognize.

She was also beginning to recognize that her heart seemed to have its own agenda when it came to Dev. Everything in Jenna’s head warned her not to get too close but her heart, always so agreeable in the past, moved toward him like the needle of a compass seeking the north pole.

That she was even thinking in those terms told her that she needed to get back to the city.

An owl hooted in a branch above their heads and the doe’s tail lifted like a white flag as she bounded into the woods. The spotted fawns melted into the shadows behind her.

“Can we follow them?” Tori wanted to know.

Dev’s teeth flashed in the darkness. “I think their mama is going to tuck them into bed for the night. She wouldn’t want us to disturb them.”

“Okay.” Tori tucked her cheek against Dev’s shoulder. Yawned. “Tomorrow?”

“We have plans tomorrow,” Jenna interjected.

She’d make sure of it.

Chapter Eight

J
enna found an empty parking spot right in front of the Grapevine Cafe the following afternoon. Her sunglasses hid the effects of a sleepless night.

Funny how she’d been able to sleep through the constant swish of traffic and sirens outside her condo but now she woke up every time a cricket chirped.

And without fail, every time her eyes had popped open, Dev had popped into her thoughts. Jenna’s attention to detail, something she’d always prided herself on, had turned on her, forcing her to relive every moment spent in Dev’s company the evening before.

The man was the quintessential “what you see is what you get” type of guy. No games. No apologies. He didn’t flirt with her. Didn’t fall all over himself trying to impress her. His quiet strength and dry wit invited a woman to let her guard down.

No wonder Logan and Tori liked him. Jenna should have been just as comfortable in his presence but somehow she ended up as jittery as a Macy’s employee on Black Friday.

The jitters hadn’t subsided until she loaded the children into her car and drove to the bed-and-breakfast to visit Abby for a few hours. While they were there, Kate called and asked if she and the children could stop by the cafe for a few minutes.

Jenna had welcomed another reason to avoid the cabin.

And Dev.

Logan unsnapped his seat belt and scrambled out of the car while Jenna unbuckled Tori from her booster seat.

“There you are!” The door of the cafe swung open, and Kate stepped under the striped awning, a snow-white apron tied around her trim waist.

“I have a new shirt.” Tori skipped over to Kate and pointed to the pink pony decal on the front. “The mailman brought it. It’s gotta sparkly mane, see?”

“It’s beautiful—just like you.” Kate smiled at Jenna over Tori’s head and gave the tail of Logan’s hat a tug. “How are you doing, buddy? Have you made any exciting discoveries yet?”

“There’s something living in a hole underneath the porch.”

“What do you think it is?” Kate’s voice dropped to a whisper.

“I don’t know but it likes crackers.”

Kate chuckled. “Come on in. The midday rush is over so we should have the place to ourselves for a while.”

Jenna followed Kate and the children inside and felt as if she’d stepped back in time.

Red vinyl stools with spindly metal legs lined the long counter in front of the old-fashioned soda fountain. A Beach Boys tune blared from a jukebox in the corner. In the Twin Cities, Jenna had no doubt that people would flock to the cafe to experience its “vintage” charm.

Logan and Tori bypassed the dessert carousel and aimed for a booth in front of the window.

“They seem to be doing better,” Kate murmured. “Are you settling in?”

“Adjusting,” Jenna admitted. “Settling in” had never been part of her plan.

Kate tipped her head to one side, a gesture Jenna was coming to recognize. “How is your sister?”

“I don’t know.” Jenna tried to hide her frustration. “I’ve left several messages for Shelly but she hasn’t returned my calls. The director at New Day is on vacation and won’t be back until the end of the week. I have no idea what’s going on.”

“I’ve been praying for her. And for you.” Kate squeezed Jenna’s hand.

“Thank you.” Jenna realized that she meant it.

Dev had prayed over their meal the evening before and the simple words had touched a chord inside her.

Prayer had never been an important part of Jenna’s life. No one else had paid any attention to her so she’d assumed that God didn’t either. But Dev’s simple prayer had echoed through a hollow space in her heart. The one that never seemed to go away, no matter how much her salary or her popularity increased.

You have it all, people would often tell her. So why did she always feel as if something were missing?

He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge.

The verse cycled through her memory again and she thought about the photograph on Dev’s coffee table. She’d never felt that safe. That protected…

“Okay, if you aren’t going to choose, I’ll just have to bring you one of each!”

Jenna snapped to attention when she realized Kate had been talking to her. “One of each?”

“I asked if you wanted a hot fudge sundae or a piece of pie.” Kate chuckled. “But you were obviously somewhere else.”

Jenna wasn’t about to tell her where. “Sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind. I’ll just have a cup of coffee.”

“Coffee it is.” Kate ducked behind the counter. “Have a seat, and I’ll be right back.”

Tori and Logan were already hard at work building a tower with the tiny packets of jam on the table when Jenna slid into the booth beside them.

“Miss Gardner?”

Jenna looked up as a man maneuvered through the maze of tables toward her. The shock of red hair sprouting from the top of his head resembled a rooster’s comb and matched the stripes in his plaid golf shorts.

He stuck out a hand. “I’m Wes Collins, editor of the
Mirror Lake Register.
”

Jenna smiled politely. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Collins.”

“Kate tells me that you write a column for a magazine.”

Jenna glanced over at Kate, who grinned and waved a spoon at her. “That’s right.
Twin City Trends.
”

Wes grabbed an empty chair and positioned it at the end of the table, effectively blocking off any chance of escape.

But why did Jenna have the feeling she was going to need one?

“Gabby Bunker is my best correspondent. You’ve probably heard of her.”

“Um…no. But I haven’t had a chance to read your newspaper yet.”

“Oh.” Wes looked disappointed. “She’s having surgery next week and has to take a few weeks off.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“The last time Gabby took a break, sales sank quicker than Charlie Pendleton’s raft in the Reflection Days race.”

“I’m sure she’ll be difficult to replace.” Jenna tried to catch Kate’s eye, willing her to stage a hot fudge sundae intervention.

“Actually—” Wes leaned forward, trapping her in a cloud of Old Spice.

Oh.
No.

“—I was wondering if you’d fill in for her. As a favor for a fellow journalist.”

A fellow journalist?

“I know it sounds a little intimidating,” Wes continued, his expression earnest. “I mean, Gabby gets fan mail from all over the county. People
love
her column.”

“I’m sure they do.” Jenna pressed her lips together to seal off a smile.

“I already talked to her and she’s willing to give you a chance.”

“That’s very, um, nice, of her,” Jenna managed. “And I appreciate the offer, Mr. Collins, but unfortunately—” Or fortunately, depending on a person’s point of view “—I won’t be in Mirror Lake very long. I’m sure you’d rather have someone you can depend on.”

“Right.” Wes’s smile didn’t fade as he pushed to his feet. “I’ll give you some time to think about it.”

Jenna blinked. Hadn’t she already thought about it? And said no?

“Mr. Collins—”

“Call me Wes. All the other correspondents do. We’re like one big happy family down at the
Register.
”

Jenna wanted to make it clear that she wasn’t—nor did she intend to be—one of his correspondents, but the door was already closing behind him.

Kate returned and divvied up the sundaes between Logan and Tori. She set a generous slice of pie down in front of Jenna.

“Compliments of Wes.”

“He’s trying to bribe me. With pie.”

“It’s worked before.”

“Did you put him up to this?” Jenna had heard Abby tease Kate about her “recruiting” skills.

“I might have mentioned you wrote for a magazine.” Kate didn’t look the least bit repentant.

“A
lifestyle
magazine.”

“Hey.” Kate’s chin shot up but laughter danced in her green eyes. “We have a lifestyle here, too, you know. It’s just a little—”

“Slower?”

“Slower isn’t always a bad thing.”

“Kate, you know I don’t plan to be here very long.”

The cafe owner didn’t look put off by Jenna’s statement. In fact, she had the audacity to wink at her.

“Sometimes God has other plans.”

* * *

There were two messages waiting for Dev on his answering machine when he walked in the door.

The first one he ignored, the second one he couldn’t. Not if he wanted to keep Violet in kibbles and rawhide chews.

He hit a button on his speed dial and waited, hoping it would go straight to voice mail.

“It’s about time!”

No such luck. “Hey, Talia.”

“Hi, yourself. You know, just to bring you up to speed on the latest technology, there are these handy little things called cell phones that make communication a lot easier.”

“Ah, but they were designed for people who
want
to communicate.”

“You take this whole backwoods hermit thing a little too seriously.”

“I’m not a hermit.”

A brief moment of silence and then, “‘A hermit. One that retires from society and lives in solitude.’ That’s a quote straight from Mr. Webster that I found on my BlackBerry. One of those handy gadgets I referred to a moment ago, not the actual berry.”

“You know service around here can be sketchy.”

“Mmm, that’s what you keep telling me, but sometimes I wonder if it’s a convenient excuse.”

Dev poured a cup of coffee—a conversation with Talia Hunt always called for caffeine—and tossed a biscuit to Violet. “Is this a business call or an ‘I think Dev needs another lecture’ call?”

An exasperated sigh unfurled in his ear. “It’s a ‘remind me why I put up with you’ call.”

Dev grinned. He could picture Talia’s ebony braids trembling like aspen leaves; hear the indignant scuff of her Birkenstocks as she paced the length of a glass wall overlooking the Mississippi.

The gallery Talia owned was located in an old warehouse a group of artists had rescued from demolition. She and Jason had been friends, which in Talia’s mind meant that
they
were friends. A sneaky tactic she’d used to stay in touch with him the past few years.

“I was planning to call you. I just got home a few days ago.”

“And?”

And I’ve been distracted by the new neighbors.
Dev kept that information to himself. Even a crusty old hermit had a reputation to live up to.

“I might have gotten one or two decent shots.” Dev propped a hip against the counter and looked out the window. The thick stand of trees blocked his view of Jenna’s cabin, but through the screen he heard a peal of childish laughter and a loud splash.

He’d heard the purr of her Audi a few hours ago, heading toward town.

Violet, who’d been moping around for the better part of the day, trotted over to the sliding glass door and whined.

“Forget about it,” Dev told her.

“But you just said—”

“Sorry. I was talking to Violet.”

“I rest my case.” Talia sounded smug. “Let me know when I can drive to Mirror Lake and pick up the photos. Unless you feel like taking a trip into town, Mr. Ingalls.”

“Or I could mail them.”

“Violet and I like to catch up.”

And Talia liked to check on him.

“I’ll let you know.
Soon.
” Dev added the word before she could ask.

“If you’d agree to make more than one copy of a photo, I wouldn’t have to bother you so often.”

“We’ve had this conversation.”

“And it’s one of my favorites.”

“Then you may recall—”

“You’re capturing one moment in time,” Talia interrupted. “I know, I know. One moment, one photo. I still can’t decide whether it’s creative genius or a brilliant marketing strategy.”

Dev didn’t think it was either one. A few months after he’d moved to Mirror Lake, he’d given Talia one of his photos as a gift on her birthday, something Jason would have done if he had been there.

A customer had noticed it hanging on the wall of Talia’s office and wanted to buy a copy. When Talia had called to ask if he’d be interested, Dev had politely refused.

Not in a million years would he have guessed it would spark the patron’s interest even more. Talia had kept at him until Dev had finally given her permission to sell some of his photos through the gallery—with the condition that each would be one of a kind.

Dev figured that would be the end of it. It was ironic that his attempt to avoid attention had backfired. With that first sale, demand for his photographs had risen, along with the price.

Talia might give him a hard time but she, more than anyone else, understood his aversion to the limelight. Dev had courted it once, never realizing what it would cost him.