Bonnie K. Winn - Family Ties

Flynn smiled. “Software Development.”

Michael nodded. “And you can run that kind of business from anywhere. Rosewood’s as perfect as Silicon Valley.”

Flynn studied the other man with new respect. “My thoughts exactly.”

“You’ve picked a good town, lots of good people here.”

“That’s what Cindy’s been telling me.”

Michael studied him. “But you’re not sure yet. That’s okay. I don’t judge an orange by its peel, either. Get to know us first.”

Flynn wasn’t accustomed to this much directness, but it struck a chord. “Good advice.”

Michael’s gaze roamed around the building. “Now, let’s see if you like the rest of it.”

Hours later, Flynn headed back to Cindy’s house. Michael Carlson had carefully examined the office structure. Then he’d offered to have a word with the contractor Flynn had hired. But Flynn wasn’t comfortable accepting help from strangers. Or friends for that matter.

Even though he hadn’t appreciated Cindy’s interference, Flynn liked Michael. Instinctively Flynn believed he was honest, capable.

Still, that brought him round to why Cindy had asked Michael to stop by. Why she felt a need for control, one he hated to admit equalled his own.

Entering the house, he didn’t hear anyone; in fact it seemed deadly still. The panic that had struck him once as a child and never fully disappeared now crawled into his throat.

His walk a near run, he traveled through the front rooms, finally jogging into the kitchen. He was ready to turn back and tear up the stairs, when he heard the hum of voices from the backyard. The French doors were closed. Only one kitchen window was slightly ajar, dimming the sounds.

Pulling open the doors, he searched for and saw his daughters. Relieved, he watched for a moment as they played with three children he hadn’t seen before.

And in the background Cindy’s distinctive, upbeat voice blended with that of another woman’s. Flynn took a few steps forward.

It was bright in the yard, the warming spring sunshine pushing past overhanging branches, muted only by the slats of the faded white lattice arbors. And Cindy sat in the sunshine and shadow.

There was something different about her, he realized, walking farther into the yard. Fully animated, unreserved, she was as brilliant as the deep fuchsia azaleas blooming around her.

Glancing up, she spotted him, and some of her vivacity faded. Still, she smiled in welcome.

“Hello, ladies,” he greeted them.

Her friend tossed back long dark hair and extended her hand. “I’m Katherine Carlson. I’ve heard so much about you and your daughters. It’s a real pleasure to meet you.”

He hesitated for a moment, amazed that this attractive woman was the “female preacher.”

She noticed and her grin widened. “Yep. It’s true. I’m the woman minister.”

He collected his manners, shaking her proffered hand. “No wonder your husband looks like such a happy man.”

Confident, unflappable Katherine blushed.

Cindy, to his surprise, winked at him with an equally wide grin. “Then I guess that means Michael found you this morning.”

Katherine recovered a trace of her composure. “I hope he was able to help. Michael subcontracts out a lot of the smaller jobs. If your contractor’s one of those, he would probably listen to Michael.”

Flynn met Cindy’s eyes. “I do want to get things going quickly. I’m not comfortable working from Cindy’s house.”

Katherine shrugged. “Beats me why anyone would rather work in an office building than this charming place, but I’m sure Michael could help if you ask him.”

“That’s great,” Cindy concurred, not relinquishing Flynn’s gaze. “I’ll be needing the conservatory for one of my groups soon anyway.”

Katherine glanced between them, but didn’t comment on the visible tension. “Looks like the kids are getting along well.”

Belatedly Flynn and Cindy pulled their gazes from each other.

“So it does,” Flynn agreed, wishing Cindy wouldn’t look at him that way. There was no reason to feel guilty about telling the truth. Then he really looked at the kids. “How old are your children?”

Katherine’s face softened. “David’s the oldest. He’s eight. Annie’s six. And baby Danny’s fourteen months.”

Flynn watched them for a few more minutes. “The older ones are good with your youngest and my girls, as well.”

“They’ve always treated Danny as though they found him under the tree on Christmas morning,” Katherine replied with a winsome laugh. “But then, since he was a gift from God, that’s not so bad.”

Flynn swallowed the comment that sprang to mind. He didn’t have to agree with people to remain polite. “Still, you should be proud of them. Older children aren’t always so gentle with toddlers.”

Surprisingly Katherine’s eyes brightened with an unexpected sheen of tears. “I’m so proud of them I could burst. Annie, David, Danny and their father are the best things that ever happened to me.”

Cindy’s gaze suddenly held red-hot warning. So he chose his words carefully. “My girls mean the world to me, too.”

Katherine recovered her composure. “I know. Cindy’s told me about your late wife, and all the sacrifices you made to move to Rosewood.”

Startled, Flynn stared at Cindy.

However, her expression didn’t lighten. In fact, if he could identify the emotion lurking there, it would be suspicion. And for the life of him, he didn’t know what caused that.

“Mommy!” Annie hollered, running up to them, all dark hair and huge blue eyes. Seeing Flynn, she turned suddenly shy.

“Hi,” he said first. “I’m Flynn. You must be Annie.”

She bobbed her head up and down. “Uh-huh. Can the girls swing with me?”

Katherine stood. “How about if I supervise?” she asked Flynn.

He agreed and in moments he was alone with Cindy. “Is something wrong?”

She studied him. How could she tell him she still had doubts about his uncharacteristic move to Rosewood? She felt a desperate need to safeguard the life she’d built, afraid that her heart would outweigh her caution. Knowing none of it could be said, instead she shook her head. “No. I just didn’t expect you home so soon. I thought you wanted to work in your new office space.”

“About that…Why did you ask Michael Carlson to come by, without telling me?”

Exasperated, she all but snorted. “Are we back to that again? Are you a total control freak?”

“Not any more than you apparently.”

She counted inwardly to ten. “I know I’m not like Julia. I’m sure she deferred to your every comment and dictate. But I don’t operate that way. I do have opinions. And while I don’t always insist they’re right, I intend to express them.” Cindy paused. “Well, unless they hurt someone’s feelings, of course. But I’m not retiring and complacent. I have ideas. I make my own decisions.” She met his gaze, feeling her chest tighten. “And I’m not going to try to be someone I’m not.”

“I don’t recall asking you to,” he replied mildly. “But I would appreciate a heads-up when you send someone like Michael over.”

She frowned. “Didn’t you like him?”

“That’s not the point.”

“Everybody likes Michael,” she responded in instant defense, never forgetting how happy he had made her once-lonely best friend.

“Are you being deliberately obtuse?” Flynn asked. “I’m only asking that you not blindside me.”

“Then you did like Michael?” she asked hopefully. She knew Flynn needed to broaden his circle of acquaintances. And Michael was one of the nicest people she knew.

“He was all right,” Flynn replied.

Cindy took a deep breath, remembering that men didn’t verbalize their feelings, that Flynn had probably revealed all that was masculinely possible. “He and Katherine have been my anchors since I came to Rosewood. They’re good friends to have.”