A Family for Luke Read online

  Janie tucked the envelope into her purse and slipped it over her arm. “You kids listen to Dodie,” she said. “And no television.”

  “Yes, Mom,” Todd and Suzie replied, followed by a belated “Yes, Mom” from Autumn.

  Luke turned off the car and hurried out, trying to get to Janie’s door before she got out.

  “I’ll be fine,” she insisted as he opened her door. “Just get my kids back home. I’ll call my mother and tell her what’s happening.”

  Luke ignored her protest as he tucked her arm in his and helped her up the curb. It felt good to be helping her. Felt better than good to have her arm tucked in his.

  “What happened?” Dodie hurried over to her sister’s side

  “An accident on the stairs.” Luke turned back to Janie. “What time should I come and get you?”

  “Dodie can pick me up when I’m done.”

  “I can come and get you. That way she won’t have to pack up the kids.”

  Janie waved away his offer, and Luke stifled his own annoyance with her.

  Then she shifted her weight to her good foot, glancing upward. His annoyance drifted away as a soft smile shaped her lips. “Thanks for your help,” she said quietly.

  “Gladly given,” he said, holding her gaze as a light spring breeze tossed her hair away from her face.

  A glimmer of what they had shared before revisited, and it was all Luke could do not to reach up and brush the errant strands of hair back into place.

  Dodie was watching with avid interest, and Luke glanced away as Janie let go of Luke’s arm. “Do you want me to start supper?” Dodie asked.

  “I’ll take care of that when I come home.” Janie gave her sister a smile, Dodie gave her a hug and Luke felt it again. The faint touch of envy at the web of relationships surrounding this woman. Kids, sister, parents.

  His mind slipped back to Al and Uncle Chuck. They had been generous and caring. His family. They had filled a void that his mother had created with her frequent absences.

  But always, deep within him, was a deeper yearning for a family of his own.

  Janie jerked open the door of the bank and hobbled inside. Luke waited to make sure she wouldn’t keel over. An older man with thinning hair came out of an office, his hand held out in greeting. They chatted a moment, and then he was escorting her into a hallway. Just before Janie turned the corner, she glanced back over her shoulder.

  Their eyes met again, and she ducked her head, as if embarrassed to have been caught, then disappeared.

  “So, home again,” Dodie said, a faint smirk on her face as if she had caught the little interchange.

  Luke ignored the smirk and walked to the car. “Home again,” he said.

  Chapter Seven

  “I understand the entire building that my shop is in is for sale. I currently lease half the building, so I was thinking of buying the whole building and expanding.” Janie swallowed down the flutter of panic accompanying her brave words. Expand. So easy to say. It was the right thing to do. It was the only thing to do.

  But second thoughts hounded her brave words as she handed Victor Chernowyk, her account manager, a folder with her proposal in it. The papers inside represented precious hours of work grabbed between working at the coffee shop and taking care of her house and children.

  “I have a couple of proposals. One is expanding into the restaurant business, or adding a bookstore. I think the population of Riverbend could support a bookstore in conjunction with another business. Coffee shops and bookstores are a popular combination.”

  Victor opened her folder and flipped through the papers, his eyes flicking over them. He was only giving them a cursory glance.

  “I’ve done a lot of research on those proposals,” Janie said, a feeling of desperation coming over her at his seeming lack of interest. “I’ve gone through all the numbers…” Worn out her fingers on the calculator, contributed to global deforestation by going through reams of calculator paper. “Either of those could do well.”

  As Victor sighed and closed her folder, Janie swallowed down a bubble of trepidation.

  “An audacious proposal, Janie, and one I’m sure your father would appreciate.”

  Janie gave him a careful smile, reading the undertone of his voice.

  “The reality is, we’ve extended your credit as long as we possibly could,” Victor Chernowyk said from his vantage point on the other side of the desk. “In fact, I’ve had to do some intense bargaining to get you your current extension.”

  And there it came. The dropping of the other shoe.

  Victor smiled, the overhead light glinting off his glasses, his folded hands resting on the folder she had spent so much time on. “You’re barely hanging on to your business as it is. Expansion is not an option. We’ve renegotiated the loan too many times.”

  Janie swallowed down the frustration building in hr chest. “So what is the solution?”

  Mr. Chernowyk pursed his lips and leaned back in his chair, his hand still resting on her file. “Have you talked to your father?”

  “That was never an option.” Her words came out more forcefully than she had intended, but she needed to make this point crystal clear. “I’m not running to my dad every time I’m in trouble.”

  “Of course, I realize that,” Mr. Chernowyk said, tapping his fingers on the file folder as if he were dealing with an obstinate young child.

  And perhaps that’s how he saw her, Janie thought, easing her foot into a less painful position. Victor Chernowyk had been her father’s loan officer when Dan Westerveld first started his contracting business. He negotiated her father’s first loan, mortgage and various other financing as his business grew and flourished.

  Now Dan Westerveld’s daughter was in financial straits, and Mr. Chernowyk couldn’t seem to understand why Janie simply didn’t go to the “Bank of Daddy” and take out a loan.

  “I’m sure your father would want to know about your financial situation, however.”

  Janie couldn’t disagree. She knew Dan Westerveld would willingly pull out his checkbook and fix it all.

  After all, Owen would have asked. As the father of Dan and Tilly’s grandchildren, Owen held a trump card that he played well and played often. He always managed to get money out of her dad as a result.

  “He’s not going to find out.” Janie felt herself go cold and taut, and she sent a warning glance across the expanse of desk between her and her father’s friend. “From me or you.”

  Mr. Chernowyk held up his hands in a gesture of defense. “Of course not. Our meetings are strictly confidential.” He sniffed, then leaned forward again, his arms folded on the desk. “So that leaves you with one option. Selling the coffee shop while you still hold a small margin of equity in it.”

  “There’s no other way?”

  Victor sighed. “I’m sorry. Unless you find a partner who has the cash to get your operating loan in line, no.”

  And where was she going to find a partner? Her parents were out—and Dodie? Her flighty sister had a hard enough time holding on to a job, let alone partnering with her on a shop.

  “I’ll do some work on the numbers and see what I can come up with.” Janie threw out the words as if they cost her nothing.

  In which of your full twenty-four hours do you even hope to do that? And what numbers do you think will rescue your coffee shop? The file he’s holding is full of numbers. What you need is money. Not more evenings hunched before a computer.

  “What about the house?” She put this suggestion out as a last resort. She didn’t want to jeopardize her home in her quest for independence, but if it helped, it was worth a try.

  Victor shook his head. “I’m afraid the equity in the house isn’t sufficient for a plan of this size.”

  Janie grew cold and taut as the exhaustion that had been her steady companion the past few years claimed her.

  She’d taken over the coffee shop out of necessity. It had become her sole source of income and had, in the proc
ess, become a symbol of her independence from her parents. That she didn’t need their help. That though marrying Owen had been a mistake, she was still in charge of her life.

  “What kind of timeline am I looking at?” she asked.

  Mr. Chernowyk blew out a sigh as he picked up a pen from the desk. “In about two months, interest on your current loan will reach critical mass.”

  And wasn’t that a comforting concept.

  “Thank you for taking the time to see me this evening,” Janie said, slipping her papers into the envelope.

  “No problem. Always glad to see you.” Mr. Chernowyk stood as Janie painfully got her good foot under her, her hand resting heavily on the armrests of the chair. “Are you all right? You seem to be in pain.”

  His concern after his cavalier dismissal of her work, his easy assumption that she could run to daddy for help, got her back up.

  “I’m fine,” she snapped, though she was anything but. Her ankle throbbed with each heartbeat, sending waves of pain and heat up her leg but she managed to get upright without groaning or moaning.

  “Of course.” Mr. Chernowyk visibly pulled back, slipping his pen in the suit pocket of his coat. “I’ll see you to the door.”

  He walked around the desk, leading the way out of the office. Janie followed him, stifling a cry of pain as she put her weight on her foot.

  “You have hurt yourself,” he exclaimed, frowning as she hobbled toward him.

  “I twisted my ankle before I came here,” she finally admitted. Fibbing about it further would only make her look even more foolish. “But I’ll be okay.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” Gracious, he was almost as stubborn as Luke.

  “All right, then.” He gave her another smile as he held open the door. He watched her go and then, thankfully, left.

  Janie sank against the glass window of the bank, taking her weight off her foot. A few people passing said hello and she flashed a completely fake smile in return, hoping they wouldn’t stop to talk. Between the pain in her ankle and the pressure building up in her head she wasn’t sure what kind of conversation she could make.

  From her vantage point in front of the bank she saw the pulled blinds and the Closed sign on the door of her coffee shop.

  Which meant every person pausing at the door was one fewer customer and less income. All of which put the top of the hole she had been trying to climb out of since Owen had left her further out of reach.

  For now, she had to get home and get supper ready for her family. As she pulled her cell out to call her sister, she felt a moment of panic wash over her.

  Too many decisions. Too much to think about. And no way out.

  “Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you.”

  The Bible passage slipped in below the roiling of her mind, and she clung to it, needing the firm foundation of her faith in the shifting of her life.

  Janie opened her phone to dial home. Then hesitated. Dodie would have to pack up all the kids to come here. Maybe she should phone her mother to pick her up and take her home.

  And have her find out about the ankle, the shirt and the bank appointment?

  She dialed home.

  Suzie’s “hello” was breathless, and in the background, Janie heard Todd laughing.

  “Are you watching television?” Janie demanded.

  “Luke is telling us stories.”

  “Why is Luke still there?”

  “Auntie Dodie told him he could stay and help.”

  Didn’t he have work to do on his house? Why was he spending time with her kids and her sister? Was he staying because of Dodie?

  And why did she feel that faint tinge of jealousy? “Where is Auntie Dodie?”

  “She’s sitting right here.”

  “So Luke’s been with you kids and Dodie the entire time?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Luke made us clean up the house, and he’s been trying to get Autumn’s shirt clean. You can talk to him.”

  “No, honey, that’s fine. Let me talk to Dodie.”

  But all she heard was some more giggling, then Luke’s voice came on the phone. “I’m guessing you’re done.”

  Her heart endured an unexpected pitch and roll at his deep voice juxtaposed against the sound of her children’s muted laughter. A man in her house, with her kids.

  She decided to forego questions about his presence in her home. There would be time later. “Is Dodie there? I need a ride.”

  “Don’t you think it might be better if I come get you? That way I’m not left alone with the kids.”

  She let his words sink in. “Sure. That would be good.”

  “I’ll see you in a bit.”

  She wished she could tell him how she appreciated his consideration, his awareness of the precariousness of her situation. Instead she simply said goodbye and hung up.

  She laid her head against the wall, her mind ticking back to a scene from the past. Owen was supposed to be watching the kids while she went grocery shopping. When she got home, she found he had left a note that he got a call from a guy at work and had to duck out. She didn’t know when he got the call or how long he’d been gone, but when she got home Suzie was eating cereal in front of the television, Todd was stuck screaming in the bathroom, with a door he couldn’t unlock and Autumn was playing with a pair of scissors.

  She’d felt sick for weeks afterward, thinking what could have happened.

  Her ankle was throbbing by the time Luke pulled up in front of the bank in her car.

  Todd and Suzie had come with him.

  What had Dodie been thinking, letting the kids come with Luke? She stifled her fear momentarily. They were here and they were fine.

  She pushed herself away from the wall just as Luke got out to help her.

  “I’ll be okay,” she said. But as she took her first step, an agonizing pain shot from her ankle up through her leg almost sending her to her knees.

  Luke caught her and thankfully, didn’t say anything as he escorted her to the car.

  He helped her inside and waited for her to buckle up. “Luke hurt his leg, too,” Todd said from the backseat. “He said he was in the hospital for two weeks. You won’t have to go to the hospital, will you?”

  “I can wiggle my toes. It’s just a sprain.” She ignored Luke’s knowing look.

  “Luke said he used to have a motorbike,” Todd said. “Like Dad did.”

  “Hardly in the same class,” Luke said with a vague smile. “At least guessing from the pictures I saw.”

  “The kids showed you pictures?”

  “I thought it would be okay,” Suzie said, picking up on the alarm in Janie’s voice. “I wanted to show him how pretty you were in your wedding dress.”

  The thought of Luke looking at pictures of her past created a sense of connection she wasn’t entirely comfortable with. And yet, as she caught his sidelong glance, the discomfort slipped away.

  “I’m sure Luke doesn’t care about my wedding,” she said quietly.

  “But he said—”

  “And I’m sure your mom doesn’t care what I said, Todd,” Luke told him, glancing in the rearview mirror.

  Thankfully he didn’t look at her after he quieted Todd. Because in spite of her brave words, she tried not to wonder what he’d actually said.

  The kids filled her in on the rest of the afternoon on the short trip back to the house. Apparently Luke hadn’t had much luck washing the marker out of Autumn’s shirt or the carpet upstairs. That he had tried made her smile.

  “Thanks for picking me up,” Janie said, slipping her purse over her shoulder as Luke parked the car. “And for helping Dodie with the kids.”

  Luke shrugged. “I enjoyed myself.”

  “And the house? Don’t you need to work on it?”

  “I got a fair bit done last night. I needed the break.”

  He sounded so matter of fact, and she didn’t want to read too much into his comment or his presence.

  The prac
tical part of her knew she should be concerned about the kids becoming familiar with Luke. He was only temporary. But her mind was preoccupied with what the banker told her.

  Tomorrow she could be the responsible mother and caregiver. Today she was tired, in pain and hanging by her very fingernails to the end of her rope.

  “That’s good.” She gave him what she hoped was a polite smile, but as their eyes met, she felt it again. That familiar and dangerous frisson of awareness. That lightness of breath that was the precursor of longing.

  She dragged her gaze and attention away and back to her responsibilities. Janie opened her car door and moved her foot. The pain increased by the minute. She didn’t want to think what it would look or feel like once she took off her boot.

  And then Luke was there, holding out his hand to help her out of the car.

  She could ignore him, which would be foolish but rude, or she could put her hand in his, which would be dangerous but smart.

  His hand was warm, firm and as he helped her out of the car, his other hand caught her by the elbow, steadying her as she teetered on her single foot.

  Suzie walked ahead of her; Todd was already on the step opening the door.

  “Thanks for your help. I think I can make it to the house okay,” she said.

  She could tell he wasn’t convinced when he put his arm around her waist and slipped her arm over his shoulder.

  “Please, I’ll be fine.” But even as the words were formed and spoken, the lonely part of her yearned for the support and warmth of that strong arm around her waist, the feel of his broad shoulder under her arm.

  Dodie was inside the front entrance when Luke opened the door, her cell phone in hand. “Great. You’re back. I gotta run. Hannah needed some help with wedding invitations. She said she’d meet me up at her friend’s place.”

  “Do you need a ride there?”

  “Nah. Her friend lives only a couple blocks from here. I wish I could stay and help, but Cousin Ethan is pulling the ‘left-out groom’ schtick and wants to help with the invitations. Hannah is a bit worried, so I told her I’d run interference. Ethan usually listens to me.”