Lois Richer - Heart's Haven

Since Ty had been thinking about finding a permanent church home for himself and Jack since they’d moved, he listened to Davis’s directions.

“If I can persuade my nephew, you might just see us there on Sunday. And you must feel free to come here anytime—all of you. As soon as I get a coffeepot working there will be a cup for you whenever you like.”

“Thanks.”

Each man shook Ty’s hand, teased Cassidy, then clambered up the steps. Except for Davis. He lingered behind while the others called for Cassidy and Mac to come and see something on the big black truck they’d arrived in. She gave the two of them a speculative look before following the others outside.

Ty walked up the stairs beside Davis wondering what the other man was struggling to say.

“So you and Cassidy are both chefs,” he prodded. “That’s interesting.”

“Technically I’m a chef, but I’m not in Cassidy’s league.” The big man shrugged. “She’s won about every award they give, made her mark with the best in the business. She could work anywhere and they’d be more than happy to have her.”

“Yet she chose to come back to Chicago.” Ty wanted to hear more about Cassidy Preston. Particularly why she was so adamant about not overstaying her six-month term.

“She always had big plans for her future.”

Something in Davis’s voice made Ty pause just outside the door, while they were still out of earshot of the others.

“You don’t think her future is why she came back?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Ty met his look, smiled faintly. “You didn’t have to.”

“Psychologist, huh?” Davis shook his head. “I’ll have to watch it.”

“You going to hang around here all afternoon, Davis?” Hart bellowed. “Or do you want help unloading that stuff?”

“I want help, of course. Think the Haven might get a few bucks for the metal if we take it over to that friend of yours?”

“Why not?”

Moments later the men and the old equipment had disappeared down the snowy street.

“Not a bad morning’s work,” Cassidy said as she turned to go back inside.

Ty grasped her arm. “Wait a minute.”

She glanced at his hand, eyes steely as she waited for him to release her. Then she lifted her gaze to meet his. “Yes?”

“It’s past noon,” he said, checking his watch. “I’m hungry.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, have a nice lunch.”

Ty stepped in front of the door so she couldn’t go inside. She lifted her perfectly arched eyebrows to glare at him. “Excuse me?”

He laughed.

“I can see I’m going to have to practice my communication skills. That was supposed to have been an invitation for lunch. I’m buying. As a thank-you,” he explained. “Getting that equipment, bringing those men here, listening to their offers to help—if they pan out, the place will have taken a giant leap forward. Thanks to you.”

“You’re welcome.” It was a duty response carrying little emotion.

Ty tried again.

“So what do you say we take a break over lunch and you can tell me what other things you see happening at the Haven?”

For the first time since Ty had met her, Cassidy Preston was speechless.

He waited, shuffling from one foot to the other until, exasperated by her lack of response, he burst out, “I’d appreciate a decision soon. I do have some work to do this afternoon.”

Her laughter bounced off the building and down the street.

“I think, counselor, that you need a refresher in patience.”

“What I need is an answer. Lunch?”

She studied him for a few moments, her expression unreadable. He was about to give up when she nodded, once.

“I guess we could take a break. For an hour or so.”

Within ten minutes she was seated in the front seat of his car and Ty was trying to figure out how Cassidy Preston could be so animated when some old high school buddies showed up, yet turn into a marble statue when they were alone.

As he pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant, Ty saw her check her watch for the third time.

Apparently he had about as long as it took to order and eat lunch to find the answer to his questions.

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