A Family's Hope: A Sweet Romance (Love in Millars Crossing Book 3) Page 10

  And then he smiled, and her heart skipped again.

  Janie pushed the reaction away as she looked at her kids, who were still watching her as if for further cleaning instructions. Until she had come and started barking orders, they were laughing and having fun.

  And Luke had been the cause of that.

  “It’s okay to let go of control. For one evening,” he said, tilting another smile her way.

  Janie was suddenly bone weary, her shoulders slumping with the weight of her responsibilities.

  “Okay. I’ll leave,” she said, spinning around. But she had misjudged her control over her balance.

  Then she felt his hands on her waist, holding her up and supporting her.

  Thankfully she was facing away from him, and he didn’t see the flush warming her cheeks at his touch. Nor did he see the way her eyes shut as she fought the temptation to simply lean back against him and let him hold her up.

  She had too many tangled and frayed threads in the fabric of her life. The only way to keep them together was to keep moving, keep tying off the ends and hope that someday it would all come together.

  She pushed away from him and slowly made her way back to the couch, fighting the throbbing in her ankle. Once there, she picked up the magazine her mother had given her, sighed and turned to the article about the seven things a single mother should know.

  Number one. Keep your children emotionally safe.

  She’d thought she had that one covered until Luke and his dog entered their lives.

  He’s just helping, that’s all, she reminded herself. Things just worked out the way they did. After tonight, he’s back in his own house.

  She turned her attention back to number two on the list. Take care of yourself.

  Janie shook her head and skimmed over the usual advice about bubble baths and taking time off for the occasional manicure or to read a book.

  Either the woman who wrote this was not a single mother or she was one of those high achievers who penciled relaxation time into her full agenda.

  Janie threw the magazine down, closed her eyes and tried to ignore the noise from the kitchen and the slowly defrosting bag of corn lying on the living-room floor.

  Chapter Nine

  “Thanks for making dinner. It was really tasty.” Janie smiled at her children, who were squirming with pride.

  “Did you like the biscuits?” Todd asked. “Suzie made them.”

  “I used your recipe.” Suzie gave her mother a shy smile, then glanced at Luke sitting across from Janie. “Luke helped me.”

  Though Janie kept her eyes on Suzie, she was fully aware of Luke sitting directly across from her. Having Luke working in the kitchen had been disturbing enough. Seeing him actually seated at the table, in the same place Clydewould sit the few times he was home, created a tantalizing possibility…and served as a tangible reminder that men don’t stick around.

  “I measured the oil,” Autumn added loudly, not willing to be outdone.

  “And everything is just right,” Janie said.

  As she looked at the happy faces around the table, she wondered why she hadn’t ever gotten the kids to help in the kitchen before.

  Because you can’t let go of control.

  Luke’s voice in her head annoyed her with its truth. She had deliberately sat with her back to the kitchen counter so she couldn’t see the mess. And she tried to ignore Luke, who seemed to be laughing at her, as if he knew exactly what was going on in her head.

  “And you’re not cleaning up,” Todd announced as he started clearing the dishes from the table.

  She caught Luke’s warning glance. She could do this, she thought as she settled back in her chair.

  “This is hard for you, isn’t it?” Luke said with a cocky grin as Suzie, Autumn and Todd carried the dirty dishes from the counter to the table.

  Her only answer was a vague shrug as she took a careful sip of the coffee Luke had poured for her. Everything would be fine. The kids were old enough to do the dishes.

  A sudden crash behind her made her jump, and she twisted in her chair in time to see Suzie juggling a haphazardly stacked set of pots.

  “Suzie, you should put the little one inside—”

  “I think your mom and I will drink our coffee on the porch,” Luke announced, pushing his chair back with a screech, which drowned out Janie’s instructions.

  “But the kids have never—”

  Luke held up his finger to stop her. “Let’s go,” he said, taking her by the arm and helping her to her feet.

  She wanted to protest but Luke didn’t give her time. He escorted her through the living room, past the bag of defrosting corn, and helped her into a wooden chair.

  “Okay. Foot up,” he said, pulling a chair close. He ducked into the house and returned with a pillow from her couch in one hand, her cup of coffee in the other. Janie didn’t even bother to object and obediently dropped her foot on the intricately embroidered pillow her mother had made for her. “Comfy?”

  She nodded, cradling her mug in her hands as she forced herself to relax.

  “I’m going to supervise the kids,” he said, poking his thumb over his shoulder. “Are you going to be okay? Do you need anything else?”

  “So now you’re taking my needs into consideration?” She added a quick smile so he would know she was teasing.

  He lifted his hands in a “what can I say” gesture.

  “Go. I’ll be fine,” she said.

  Which wasn’t entirely true. She felt as if her life had taken a whirlwind detour and she was still trying to find her way back to normal.

  You’re okay. You’re fine. Just let go. Enjoy the moment. Ignore the noises coming from the kitchen. You can fix whatever they broke or messed up later tonight.

  Twenty minutes later, Luke towered over her, his hands shoved in the back pockets of jeans now spotted with water.

  Janie didn’t want to know how his pants got wet doing dishes. Later. She could deal with that later.

  “So, that’s done. The kids said they would get themselves ready for bed.”

  “Suzie has homework,” Janie said.

  “She’s doing it. But I told her to help Autumn clean up her room first.”

  Janie had to lay her head back against the chair to get a better look at this puzzling man, still not sure where she should put him in her life.

  He was a neighbor, but no neighbor had ever taken care of her children or cooked in her kitchen. In fact, her mother hadn’t even done as much.

  “Thanks so much, for everything.” The polite words sounded inadequate, but she was afraid to tell him what she really thought.

  That he was a great guy who was becoming enmeshed in her and her children’s lives. That he was getting her kids to do things she never could. That her children seemed happier around him. Brighter.

  More relaxed.

  That he was awakening feelings in her with his consideration and his caring, which she had never thought would come to life again.

  He scared her.

  Luke squatted down, putting himself disturbingly closer to her. “You’re welcome.” His mouth tipped up in a lazy smile, creating appealing crinkles at the corners of his eyes. “But you might not be so thankful when you find out what I did.”

  “Washed my cast-iron frying pan with soap and water?” she asked in a breezy voice. She was alone with an attractive man, and humor helped to keep a distance between them.

  He held up his hand, his face expressing horror. “Nothing so sacrilegious.” He sighed, resting his hand on the arm of her chair. “I had to go and check on Cooper, and I ran out the back door and put my foot through your deck. I’m so sorry.”

  Janie waved off his concern. “I’m actually surprised that didn’t happen sooner. Those boards were in rough shape when we bought the place.”

  “I’m coming back tomorrow to fix it.”

  “No. Please. You’ve done enough.”

  “I’ll say,” he said with a short laugh. �
�I made you sprain your ankle, and now I’ve wrecked your deck. But seriously, it has to be fixed. It’s dangerous.”

  Janie felt the ominous weight of her financial situation settle on her shoulders. She couldn’t afford to have him fix her deck. But she couldn’t afford to leave it either.

  “If you’re worried about paying me, don’t,” Luke said as if anticipating her protest. “I wrecked it, so I should fix it. I’ve got some leftover lumber we can’t return to the store and I can’t use on the house.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “I’d hate to see your kids get hurt.”

  “Me, too. So I’ll get someone to do it.”

  “Yes. Me,” he pressed. “Besides, Todd and Suzie said they’d love to help.” He smiled again, holding her gaze.

  She looked away, recognizing that while she had allowed him to help tonight, she ran the danger of letting him creep too easily into their lives. “I’m sure they could. They don’t seem to mind helping you.” A tiny sliver of jealousy entered her voice as she deflected the conversation. She had never been able to eke that kind of cooperation out of Suzie.

  “I guess it’s because I give them space to help.”

  “More advice?” She blamed the edge creeping into her voice on her ankle, on the news she’d received only a few hours ago. And on the fact that she didn’t know how she was going to run her coffee shop with a sprained ankle and limited mobility.

  She didn’t want to think it had anything to do with his nearness. With the way he was looking at her. Like she was even the tiniest bit appealing.

  He shrugged, laying his hand on the arm of her chair to give himself balance. “I’m not trying to tell you how to raise your kids.” His voice was quiet, a soft contrast to her ire.

  She looked away, knowing she had overreacted. “I know. It’s just as a single mom, everything I do is under extra scrutiny. If the kids mess up, there’s an immediate assumption as to why. I don’t want to elicit that reaction.”

  “You’ve got really nice kids. I don’t think you need to worry about them messing up.”

  She let him cling to that illusion. It gave her hope that maybe it could happen. Maybe Suzie would settle down and not buck her at every turn. Maybe Todd would come out of his shell at school. Maybe Autumn would stop dragging that bear around like a security blanket and talking to it as if it was real.

  “I don’t want to sound like I know it all,” he continued. “I mean, I’ve never had kids, though I’ve always wanted to…” His voice trailed off, and he laughed lightly as if brushing his last comment away.

  She took a chance and looked at him again. “How old are you, Luke?”

  “Thirty-five.”

  “Ever been married?”

  “Got close once.” He scratched his cheek with one index finger, as if thinking. Remembering.

  “What happened?”

  “She didn’t want kids.” Luke’s expression grew serious, and she felt drawn into his gaze.

  “And you did,” she said quietly.

  He nodded, and as their gazes held, she felt the tiny beginnings of possibilities and potential. A single man who wanted kids. A single, attractive man who got along with her kids.

  She shifted her hand ever so slightly until it touched his and his fingers curled over hers. His hand was large, rough and warm.

  And then his face grew blurred. She didn’t know who moved first but his lips brushed hers, a gentle touch, light as a butterfly, then again. And her soul, so long alone and lonely, teetered on the edge of longing.

  She leaned forward as their lips met again, and he embraced her.

  Then a voice screeched from above, “Todd, get out of my room.”

  The yell was like a douse of cold water, and Janie jerked back. What was she thinking? Kissing this man on her porch while her kids were in the house?

  “I’m sorry,” she said, wishing her voice didn’t sound so breathless as she tried to pull her hand away from his. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Why not?”

  He didn’t seem put out by her sudden withdrawal or her apology. Nor did he let go of her hand.

  “My kids—”

  “Are upstairs. They can’t see us, and even if they did…” His shoulder lifted in a shrug that seemed to nullify her concerns and worries.

  “They would get confused.”

  “They would think that I like you,” Luke corrected as he looked down at their joined hands, his fingers lightly caressing hers. “And they would be right.”

  He spoke the words so easily that she almost missed their import. His presence, his persistence was wearing her down. Eroding her defenses.

  “I can’t do this.”

  “Do what? Talk to me? Spend time with me? What’s wrong with that?”

  She dug for all the arguments she knew she should have been using from the beginning. “My kids haven’t had it easy with their father, and I can’t afford to make the same mistake again. I have to protect them. To keep them safe. And Suzie…” She didn’t bother finishing that thought. She and Suzie had a complex relationship. Introducing someone else into the mix would only make things more difficult.

  “You don’t think I’m safe?” he persisted.

  Janie held his gaze as around them the sounds of the neighborhood settled into evening. “I don’t know. I don’t know much about you.”

  “So the only way you can find out more about me is to maybe make some room for me in your life.”

  “But to do that would mean I’m not putting my children first in my life. And right now I have issues to take care of. Resolve. To make room for you means I have to push something aside. And I have no idea what.”

  Luke released her hand and pushed himself to his feet. “I don’t think you need to push something aside. I think you just need to let someone else take over a few things.”

  He made it sound so easy. So simple. As if all he had to do was slowly ease his way into their lives and ta-da. Instant family.

  She had yearned for that, as well.

  A complete family with a husband for her and a father to her children. But the path to that destination was strewn with so many potential pitfalls that to take even one step on that journey would open themselves up to a world of hurt.

  “I’ve got three kids who need me,” she said quietly, her attention on an elusive hangnail. “Three kids who depend on me to love them and to make sure their lives go on. Add me into the mix and we’ve got four bodies in this house. Four hearts with the potential to be hurt, bruised or broken.” She dug down deeper, praying for the right words. “If you, let’s say, date a woman with three kids and think she’s the one for you and she drops you like a rock, you’ve only got your own broken heart to nourish and heal. But if I date a man who has no kids and he drops me like a rock, that’s four hearts that need healing. I don’t have the energy for that, Luke. And I don’t want to expose my children to that.”

  The silence seemed to create a chasm, waiting to be breached.

  “You’re really thinking ahead.”

  Janie gave a short laugh. “I don’t have the luxury of living for the moment like my sister does. I have to plan. I have to think. For the sake of my family.”

  “I understand that,” Luke said. “And I respect that. In fact, I probably respect you even more for what you’re saying.”

  She felt herself wavering, but pressed on. “And even more important is the faith issue.”

  “What issue?”

  “Church. Faith. Dependency on God. First time around, I married a man to whom God was a swear word. He didn’t come to church with me and the kids. I didn’t have the support I needed to bring my children up as children of the Lord. My faith, my relationship to God is my first priority. Even more than my children.” She kept her gaze fixed on something across the street.

  “You don’t know anything about my faith life.” A defensive tone crept into Luke’s voice. “You don’t know what I believe or don’t believe.”
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br />   “I know you are aware of the commandment to keep the Sabbath day, but that only proves knowledge.” She felt as if she was stumbling through unfamiliar territory with no discernible landmarks. But she also felt as if she had to press on. “But you’re right. I don’t know anything about your faith life. I don’t know about your relationship with God, if there is one.” She tried to gauge his reaction. “And that’s part of my problem.”

  Luke sighed, then sat back, leaning against the house. “I used to go to church, if that’s any help.”

  “Used to?”

  “When Al, my foster father, died, I slipped away. Stopped going.”

  “Do you miss it?” She should have stopped, but even though she had laid out the boundary between them—“good fences make good neighbors”—the lonely part of her who missed adult company, the female part of her who responded to his attention, kept her talking. Prying.

  Hoping?

  “Sometimes. But I keep myself so busy, I often forget which day Sunday is.”

  “There’s a couple of churches in town here,” she said. “Every Sunday, you’ve got options.” It was his spiritual well-being she was concerned about now, she reasoned.

  “I don’t know if God would even recognize me if I came in, not with all the stuff I’ve done, or haven’t done.”

  Janie chose to ignore that. She didn’t want to delve into his past. “Of course He would,” she assured him instead. “He says in Isaiah that He has engraved you in the palms of His hands. He is a loving and faithful father.”

  “I’ve always been thankful that Al could model at least that for me.”

  “Al was never married?”

  Luke shook his head. “Nope. Though I had a brief moment of insanity when I thought he might marry my mother. As if Al would have anything to do with her.”

  Janie felt a moment of sympathy for the young Luke, lost, confused. Living with a man who wasn’t his father, neglected by his mother.

  No wonder he was looking for a family.

  She stopped that thought right there. Luke didn’t need her pity, nor did she have to harbor the faintest notion she could give him what he needed.