Glynna Kaye - Rekindling The Widower's Heart

“It’s my understanding,” Delaney said quietly, “that she’s holding down several jobs and her husband has successfully completed alcohol rehabilitation.”

“That’s all well and good. But what if he comes back here and discovers nothing has changed? That making a go of their artistic pursuits is no more lucrative and parenting five kids isn’t any easier now than it was before?”

Delaney again stared at the floor. That counting to ten business again. Then she raised her eyes to his. “I understand your concerns, but High Country Hope Ministries feels strongly that this family deserves a second chance. That they have a good possibility of succeeding this time. I’ve already committed us to it. We can’t back out. They’re counting on us.”

With a shake of his head, he pushed away from the refrigerator. “What’s the timeline on this again?”

“We have to be done by the end of July if Hope Ministries is to relocate the family, have the August rent returned and the youth group granted the bonus. Otherwise August thirty-first, with no refund and no bonus.”

“That first deadline is only seven or eight weeks away.” No, she hadn’t thought this through. “Kids have family vacations scheduled, music and sports camps, summer jobs. They aren’t going to be available all day, every day. Maybe not much at all.”

“I don’t think it will take long to clean and paint. To do yard work. Garrett thought it entirely doable.”

“You’re assuming, too,” he countered, “that you’ll get buy-in from the kids. That Mason boy was a bully and a brat. Not well liked. Be prepared for pushback from some parents, too.”

“Pushback?” She folded her arms, her chin lifting. “Like from you?”

“I’m not—” Well, maybe he was. “When will we get to take a look at this property?”

Her eyes narrowed—not caring for the we he’d thrown in there? He’d have found that fiery spark in her gaze more than a bit attractive had it not been leveled at him.

“I’m sorry, Delaney, but I’m not committing my kids to the project until I know more about it. Other parents will feel the same. Some of us have participated in past projects right along with our children. It’s a good family bonding experience.”

Her frown deepened. She took exception to fostering parent-kid time?

She took a deep breath. “I’ll arrange for us to see the property this next week. Maybe invite parents for an overview meeting with a Hope Ministries representative. Does that meet your expectations?”

“It’s a start.”

But it was clear that with Delaney in charge, he’d have to keep an even closer eye on the youth group. Exactly what he didn’t have time for right now.

* * *

“Does Travis and Anna’s dad come to a lot of the youth activities?”

Determined to calm—or confirm—her worst fears, Delaney had detained Garrett when he returned and everyone else dispersed for the night. It appeared she’d be seeing a lot of Mr. Hunter this summer, but under circumstances she’d prefer to avoid.

Garrett offered a grin. “He’s one of those involved parents I mentioned to you earlier.”

Involved.

As in engaged. Committed. On board.

In other words, in the way and messing up the youth group vibe.

How could she draw out the teens and get them to open up and share with her and each other if he conducted surveillance from the sidelines as he’d done this evening? When she’d hinted that tonight’s less-than-satisfactory level of participation wasn’t due solely to Travis, he’d had the gall to urge her not to blame herself.

And to think only a short while ago she’d hoped to see him more often. Be careful what you wish for?

“Travis didn’t seem too thrilled to have him here.”

“When you were seventeen, would you have wanted your father keeping watch over you and your pals, listening in on every word you said?”

Actually, she’d have given almost anything if it meant her father would still be alive. But she could see there was a problem here. If her most recent encounter with Luke was indicative of what she could expect from him, he had an opinion on everything. And, like her ex-boyfriend and Aunt Jen, felt called upon to offer unsolicited advice.

“Have you talked to Luke about this?” Maybe she could enlist Garrett’s support. “Explained that he needs to back off and give his teenagers breathing space?”

“Only a hundred times.”

She placed her hands on her hips. Some people were clueless and it aggravated her that Luke was one of them. “Doesn’t he realize being a helicopter dad, hovering over them all the time, isn’t healthy for the kids—or for him?”

And it made her nervous.

“I think he’s aware it causes friction at times, but it’s hard for him to let go. He takes being a dad seriously.”

Delaney snorted.

“Too seriously, if you ask me. Like, hello?” She didn’t care for Luke disrupting the youth group project dynamics. That is, if the project got off the ground. “I’m sure his kids think ‘Get a life, Dad.’”

“Probably. But don’t be too hard on him. He’s had a rough time of it.”

“How so?” Is this where she’d hear about the nightmare of an ex-wife? There had to be a story behind that sadness she sometimes glimpsed in his eyes, something beneath this overinvolved, overprotective dad stuff.

Garrett glanced away as if unwilling to say anything further.

“I assume,” she prompted, not wanting to be left hanging, her questions unanswered, “you’re alluding to a nasty divorce?”

For a long moment he remained silent. Then he shook his head.

“A divorce would be bad enough, but no. Not a divorce.” He massaged the back of his neck with his hand, obviously reluctant to continue.

A knot formed in her stomach. Had the children’s mother died as had hers? An accident? Health issues?

“If I’m going to spend my summer with these kids—and apparently their father, too—don’t you think I should have a clear understanding of the situation?”

Garrett let out a pent-up breath. “Yeah, I suppose that’s only fair. But if I tell you, you can’t say anything to Luke, okay? He doesn’t like to talk about it and he wouldn’t like me or anyone else talking about it, either.”

“I won’t say anything.” She mimed zipping her lips. “I promise.”

“Then it’s like this, Delaney...” Garrett’s bleak gaze held hers. “Luke’s wife—the mother of his kids—killed herself six years ago.”

Chapter Four

Looking out the window where he was seated at the rustic Log Cabin Café, Luke paused, his coffee cup halfway to his lips.

Where was Delaney Marks off to this Monday morning, her head held high and a portfolio tucked under one arm? Her hair, swept into a low ponytail, bounced between her shoulder blades and a print skirt matching a solid sage-green top swirled around her ankles.

Oh, right. She’d said something about wanting to get her jewelry sold through the Hunter Ridge Artists’ Co-op. Maybe that’s where she was going? He didn’t know a whole lot about that kind of thing, but he’d been honest when he’d said he liked her work. His younger sister Rio would likely pounce on one of those rings.

Now immediately across the road from the café, Delaney jerked to a halt. She started to turn away as if to return from where she’d come, then halted again. Opening the portfolio, she reached inside to check its contents. Then seemingly satisfied that all was as it should be, she closed it up and tucked it under her arm once again. And away she went.

He couldn’t help but smile—and utter a silent prayer that she’d find a home for her jewelry. He wasn’t particularly thrilled with the influx of artisans into town, but what could one more hurt?