“You’re positive?” One eyebrow rose into a smooth little arch. “What I need to speak about could take a while.”
He nodded.
She jostled the bag on her shoulder and sighed, her gaze scanning the steps that led into the church. “Well…that’s just the day after tomorrow. I suppose it can wait until then. Ten o’clock, you said?”
“For the service, yes. And you can do your talking afterwards.”
“I don’t want to divulge the details.” Her forehead creased as her eyebrows knit together. “But perhaps I should leave a short message in the office, maybe a note with the secretary.”
“No need.” Jake tried not to glance at his watch. Corey would be waiting at the ball field, and who knew what kind of mischief he’d get into if Jake was delayed too long. “Besides, the secretary’s gone home for the day. But you have my word; the pastor will be OK with you showing up.”
“You’re sure?”
Jake eyed her…abundant ringlets of soft blonde curls, tidy appearance, and eyes that said she didn’t think he could possibly know anything about the pastor. The slight prick of guilt he’d felt fled. “I’m sure.”
“Well…” Carin wound a strand of curl around an index finger. “Thank you…I guess.”
“No problem.” The late-afternoon sun silhouetted her figure. She had to be a runner—or perhaps a dancer. Though her figure was slight, Jake noticed the definition of supple calf muscles below the hem of her skirt. He drew his gaze away. “I’d better get back to work now…unless you’d care to stay and help.”
She pressed a finger to the forehead crease and gnawed her lower lip again while readjusting the tote. “No. I’ve…um…got errands to run.”
Yeah, right,
Jake thought as she backed away.
You wouldn’t want to dirty those freshly-manicured nails.
“Well, the invitation’s open…anytime.” He swept a hand across the clipping-littered sidewalk. “There’s always plenty of lawn to mow.”
“I’ll…um…remember that.”
The mortified look on her face was priceless, and Jake grinned as she hastily retreated to her car. “Thanks for your help.”
“See you Sunday?” Jake called.
“Of course…if you’re here.”
“Oh, I’ll be here.”
“Me, too.” The way she said it, her voice lilting with a biting edge to it, made Jake wonder exactly what was up. Now he had no choice but to wait to find out. Guess that was the price he’d pay for letting the heat—and a bit of temper—get the best of him.
He thought about going after her, but the compact sedan’s engine rumbled to life before he had time to make up his mind. As the car puttered from the lot, Jake checked his watch and quickly turned his attention back to mowing. He crushed the empty water bottle and stuffed it into the back pocket of his jeans before double-timing it through the last section of lawn. Then he wrestled the mower back into the shed, brushed off his jeans, and went inside the church long enough to wash grass from his hands and check his voicemail. The last bit of mowing gave him time to reflect, and guilt gnawed at him.
He wondered what Carin wanted. He shouldn’t have run her off without asking. What kind of pastor was he, anyway? What if it was important? What if she didn’t come back?
****
Who on earth does he think he is? The arrogant, filthy, grass-covered bohemian. Why, I’ll—
The shriek of a horn startled Carin, and she slammed the brakes, skidding toward oncoming traffic. “Oh!” She held her breath as tires squealed over pavement and her car came to rest mere inches from the pickup truck in front of her. The odor of burning rubber coupled with fear made her gag. “Sorry,” she gasped, as if the driver of the truck might hear.
Oh, why on earth had she allowed Hailey to talk her into moving from her job helping her dad at his law firm in Nashville to take a teaching job at East Ridge Middle…and seventh grade, to boot? Middle school kids were a far cry from the affluent adults who came into her dad’s upscale firm to seek his advice on everything from basic living wills to complicated estate planning and civil suits. But she had a degree in English, and East Ridge Middle needed a qualified English teacher when Mrs. Baldwin, a thirty-five year veteran, decided to retire. So when Hailey called and suggested the move, Carin had jumped at the chance to take over. She’d always loved the Tennessee Valley and the foothills of the Smoky Mountains, and there wasn’t much anymore to keep her in Nashville.
Except for her dad, and he was pretty much busy at his law firm all the time.
Besides, she needed a change to get away from the memories…the grief of losing her mom and then Cameron, and of the turmoil that had followed with Phillip, too. Nothing else she tried seemed to work. A change of scenery—a bit of distance—was the answer for her troubled heart.
But it wasn’t easy being the new kid on the block at East Ridge Middle, especially when she demanded the absolute best from her students. During the first few weeks, chaos nearly choked her, but she finally had a handle on things—a routine and a plan she was more than satisfied with.
Except for Corey Samuels. Apparently he reigned as King of Chaos.
The kid had a chip on his shoulder the size of Montana, with an attitude to match. To say his grades and effort were underwhelming put it mildly. But his records showed top test scores and well-above-average ability, and something in his eyes told her there was more to the story. He reminded her of her younger brother, Cameron. As she tamped the urge to throttle Corey when he blew spit wads at her white board and made rude comments under his breath, something about him tugged at her heartstrings.
No one had been able to help Cameron, and the end result was nothing less than heartbreaking. She missed her brother, gone nearly a year now. The pain of his death never left her.
When she asked Hailey for guidance concerning Corey, her friend mentioned that a talk with Corey’s brother might help. So on the way home she’d swung by the church where Hailey said he was a pastor, but confidentiality had kept her from searching for him past that behemoth caretaker.
Carin expelled a long breath and released her hands from their death grip on the steering wheel. She wouldn’t allow that poor excuse of a caretaker get to her, even if he
did
almost run her over with the hulking, dilapidated piece of junk-metal he called a mower
.
A second horn blared, and Carin sprang to attention as traffic began to flow southbound toward the outskirts of town.
Just wait until Sunday, Mr. Lawnmower Man. I’m tougher than I look. I’ll show you…
2
Jake pulled into the ball field to find Corey gathering his football equipment and stuffing it into an oversized duffle bag. The sun was a sinking bronze glow in the late-afternoon sky, and most of the other middle-school players were gone, but Jake knew Corey always hung around longer to get in all the practice he possibly could. He’d live at the ball field if Jake would allow it. And some days Jake considered this, just for the chance to restore short snippets of quiet to his life.
“Hey, how’d it go?” Jake called as he slid out of the Jeep and loped over to toss a scuffed football into the battered bag.
“Pretty good.” Corey swung around to face him. His forehead was smudged with dirt, his cheeks painted with eye-black that he insisted blocked out the glare of the sun. The scents of damp earth and grass clung to his uniform. “Coach McCrosky asked me to demonstrate some plays today. He says my throw is really improving.”
“Well, that’s certainly good news. The extra practice is paying off, huh?”
“Yeah.” Corey nodded, and shaggy black hair hid his cobalt-blue eyes. He had their mom’s eyes, wide and sensitive, while Jake looked more like their father. “He says with a little more practice, I’ll have the whole package.”
“The whole package, huh?” Jake grinned and ruffled Corey’s matted hair. At the rate Corey was growing, Jake wouldn’t be able to do that much longer. He could hardly keep the kid in jeans…and forget about tennis shoes. They’d set up a frequent buyer account at the Nike outlet and were on a first-name basis with the owner. “Coach McCrosky wouldn’t, by any chance, be alluding to both excellent grades and outstanding athletic abilities as part of this whole package, would he?”
“Please don’t start on my grades.” Corey groaned as he zipped the duffle bag and swung it over his shoulder, then reached for his helmet. “I still have a headache from last night’s lecture.”
“But I’m
your big brother. I’m supposed to hassle you about your grades.”
“I know. Like you’d ever let me forget.”
“I’d be dropping the ball if I did.” Jake smacked him on the back. “Couldn’t do that now, could I?”
“Sometimes you’re a real pain in the neck, you know.”
“Uh-huh.” Jake twirled his key ring on an index finger and the metal jangled. “It’s a big brother’s job to be a pain in the neck.”
“Then you must be the CEO of big brothers, big brother.”
“You’ve got that right.” Jake made an effort to keep things light as they headed toward the Jeep. He was in no mood for a battle tonight. Corey had been living with him nearly eight months, and although Jake hated to admit it, he was more than a little concerned about Corey’s effort and attitude at school. Their parents’ unexpected death had ripped a gaping hole in the routine of their lives, and for Corey that meant moving away from everything that was familiar, to a new school…new friends. If it weren’t for his love of football, there was no telling what trouble he’d be getting himself into. But if his grades didn’t come up and his attitude didn’t improve—soon—football might not even remain an option much longer.
“I’m starving. I could eat two horses.” Corey loped toward the Jeep. “Can we stop at Pete’s Burger Palace?
Please?
”
“Again?” Jake grimaced. “I don’t know if my stomach can survive it. Aren’t you tired of greasy little hamburgers?”
“Uh-uh. Where else can you get all the important food groups in half-a-dozen easy-to-gulp sliders?”
“I keep telling you ketchup in not a vegetable.”
“Is, too.” Corey tossed his bag into the backseat of the Jeep and climbed up front to settle in beside Jake.
“The next thing you’ll tell me is that chocolate’s a dairy product because it’s made with milk.”
Corey buckled his seat belt and reached for the radio dial. “Works for me.”
Jake sighed and cranked the ignition. Music filled the cab, and the floor of the Jeep vibrated beneath his feet. “OK, I’ll let you gorge on burgers, but then it’s straight home to start your homework.” He reached for the volume, turned the heavy base down to a more palatable tone.
“But it’s Friday night.” Corey’s gaze widened with mortification. He reached for the volume dial but retreated when Jake waved him off. “Dillon wants to hang out.”
“Great. He can hang out at our place.” Jake shifted into first gear, then second, and headed toward the road. “Tell him to bring his schoolbooks. You can study together.”
“No way.” The eye roll was perfected from hours of practice. “I was thinking we could go to the arcade.”
“No.” Jake shook his head. “I know what goes on there, Corey, and you’re not going to be a part of it.”
“But
everyone
goes there.”
“Not
everyone
. Because
you
aren’t. And I don’t think Patrick and Julie would allow Dillon to go either. At least not on a Friday night when it’s swarming with high school and college kids, getting into who-knows-what.”
“You sound just like Dad.”
Jake’s heart tore, but he kept a steady face. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“I miss him and Mom.”
“I know you do.” Jake trained his gaze on the road but reached over to give Corey’s knee a quick squeeze. “I do, too.”
“Anyway,” Corey continued, sighing with tortured exaggeration. “I’ve been praying for you.”
“You have?” Jake was cautious. Since the accident, Corey had been anything but open to prayer. He was angry, and most often that anger was directed at God—with Jake a close second.
“Sure. I’ve been praying for God to send you a girlfriend, so maybe you’ll go out on Friday nights like a normal adult. Then I could spend time with my friends and have a life.”
“Corey, that’s not…funny,” Jake sputtered. A woman in his life was the last thing on his mind. His plate was full—overflowing—with church and keeping Corey out of trouble. And since Corey had become a huge part of his life—a very demanding part—peace and quiet had flown right out the window. But at least Corey had mentioned prayer. It was a step in the right direction. “So you think I’m normal, huh?”
“Well, it
is
a stretch of the imagination.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“No problem.”
“Maybe you should pray for something else, like some improvement in your grades. Because if I dated on Friday nights, I’d have to find someone to babysit you so you wouldn’t try to sneak out to the arcade or the mall and get into all kinds of trouble.”
Corey’s jaw dropped and his eyes flew wide. “
Babysit me
?” He gagged on the words. “Oh, brother. I don’t need a babysitter. I’m almost thirteen, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“Oh, believe me…I’ve noticed.” Now Jake rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, right.” Corey slid down in his seat and crossed his arms, working up a good sulk. Dirt clung to his fingernails. “But you still treat me like I’m six.”
“What homework do you have?” Jake asked. Might as well dig all the way in and make the adolescent sulk worth putting up with.
“We’ll get it done tonight because I have to officiate at the Grayson wedding tomorrow morning, and then run by the hospital for that fundraiser.”
“Why do I have to go, too?”
“Because the last time I left you home alone, I got a phone call from Mrs. Jenson. You and Dillon rigged a ramp across the creek and went stunt-jumping on your skateboards, remember?”
“She’s such a snoop.”
“She was just looking out for you—and your bones.”
“I can’t have any fun without someone snitching on me.”