The Promise of Home (Love Inspired) (7 page)

A single tear rolled down a plump cheek, followed by a sniffle. “Uh-huh.”

“Great.”
Great.
“And Logan? I need two more logs from the woodpile over there. Let Violet carry one.” Dev winked at him. “It makes her feel important.”

Logan summoned a tremulous smile and detached himself from Jenna’s side. He patted his leg to get the dog’s attention. “Come on, Violet.”

Dev carried Tori over to the picnic table and eased her onto the bench. Jenna sat down beside her, which gave Dev a moment to check on Logan’s progress.

Five minutes later, their tasks completed and the bee momentarily forgotten, the children ran off to play again.

“Thank you,” Jenna murmured.

“For what?”

She looked surprised that he had to ask. “For… understanding.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Dev admitted. “But it was obvious they were scared. You don’t make light of that.” He paused. “Spiders, on the other hand, now those are a different story.”

Just as he’d hoped, a faint smile tugged at the corners of Jenna’s lips. “And wolves?”

“Definitely wolves.”

Jenna spread her hands over the flames, absorbing the heat. She didn’t look at him.

“Logan and Tori stirred up a nest of hornets last week,” she finally said. “Both of them were stung multiple times.”

Dev’s stomach clenched. That explained the strong reaction. Ground hornets had a reputation for being territorial and aggressive. He’d had the misfortune to stumble on a nest once and it wasn’t something a person forgot in a hurry.

“That must have been pretty traumatic. Were you with them at the time?”

“No, it happened the day I arrived in Mirror Lake. Alex Porter, Abby O’Halloran’s brother, managed to get them to safety, but he’s allergic to bees. Logan and Tori saw him collapse.”

Dev expelled a slow breath, choosing his next words with care. “They’ve been through a lot, haven’t they?”

Jenna flinched. Wrapped her arms around her middle in an attempt to ward off the chill. Or his questions. “Alex is all right now, but I think Logan and Tori still blame themselves.”

“And you blame yourself for not being there.”

Jenna didn’t say anything, but then again, she didn’t have to.

Dev had seen that expression before.

Every time he looked in the mirror.

Chapter Seven

J
enna felt the warmth of Dev’s gaze like a physical touch.

She couldn’t admit that in a way, she was to blame for the children’s traumatic collision with the hornets that day. Logan and Tori had hidden in an old car on the property next to the bed-and-breakfast because they’d been running away from
her.

Grace had tried to explain that children living in “family situations” similar to theirs had a tendency to be leery of people they didn’t know, but that had only made Jenna feel worse.

In her niece’s and nephew’s eyes, she was a stranger.

Understanding the children’s reaction to her arrival in Mirror Lake didn’t make it any easier to bear.

Jenna still couldn’t believe her sister had never talked about her. Told Logan and Tori they had an aunt. That’s what hurt the most. As close as she and Shelly had been as children, it was if Jenna had never existed.

“Are
you
okay?”

With a start, Jenna realized Dev was studying her, the golden-brown eyes intent on her face.

“I’m fine.” If she kept saying it, maybe she would eventually begin to believe it.

“The burgers will be ready to flip in about ten minutes. How are you at cutting up fruit?”

“I think I can manage.”

“Then follow me.” Dev started toward the cabin and Jenna struggled to keep up with his loose-limbed stride.

“Wait a second.” A thought suddenly occurred to her. “You wouldn’t be trying to distract me the way you distracted Tori and Logan?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh.” Jenna shot him a suspicious look.

As they reached the short flight of steps leading up to the deck, Dev paused. Rubbed a hand across his jaw as he looked at the sky.

“Come to think of it, it did work, though, didn’t it?” he mused.

“Yes.” Jenna rolled her eyes, even though she had to admit Dev handled the crisis better than she did when Tori and Logan had started screaming.

In her column, Jenna taught women how to protect everything from their dry-clean-only knits to their investment portfolios. Dealing with Tori’s recurring nightmares and Logan’s overdeveloped sense of responsibility was beyond her realm of experience.

For a split second, Jenna had the overwhelming urge to rest her cheek against Dev’s broad shoulder with complete trust, the way Tori had, and tell him everything.

Jenna’s hands fisted at her sides.

What was she thinking? Trusting people only led to disappointment. Trusting a man she’d met a few days ago was downright crazy.

“We’ll take the shortcut.” Dev bounded up the short flight up steps to the deck that jutted out in a V-shape from the front of the cabin. “You’ll be able to watch the kids from the window.”

When he opened the sliding glass door, Jenna could see what he meant.

Floor to ceiling glass provided a frame for the spectacular sunset over the lake. Vaulted ceilings lined with knotty pine boards added a warm, natural glow to the open floor plan.

The mismatched furnishings had been chosen with an eye for comfort rather than style. A rawhide leather sofa, worn from use, faced a massive stone fireplace that took up an entire wall. There was no television, only a stack of books on the coffee table and a telescope on a tripod in the corner. All in all, the cabin had a certain rugged appeal.

Like the man who lived there.

Jenna set that thought firmly to the side.

For years, she had clipped out pictures from magazines and catalogs and saved them in a folder. Her condo was a collage of those dreams. Simple but stylish furnishings. The walls a pale gray, the trim board tangerine. Open cupboards in the tiled kitchen displayed a set of dishes, white with a splash of black in the center. Chic. Trendy.

Even if Jenna couldn’t remember the last time she’d invited someone over for dinner.

“Not much to look at, is it?” Dev’s tone sounded more affectionate than critical.

“It’s…cozy.” Jenna’s gaze lingered on the fireplace.

Before she could prevent the scene in her mind from unfolding, Jenna suddenly saw herself sitting on the sofa in front of a roaring fire, cradled in butter soft leather.

And Dev’s arms.

She gripped the back of the sofa, her fingers curling into the flannel blanket draped over its wooden spine.

Where had
that
come from?

Mirror Lake hadn’t even made the “Thirty Places Every Girl Should Visit Before She Turns Thirty” that Jenna had highlighted in her column the previous month.

An isolated, lakeside cabin wasn’t on the list, either. And it certainly had never been part of her dreams.

Neither was a man like Dev.

A man who remained blissfully ignorant of the battle raging inside of her as he rummaged through a drawer in the kitchen.

“Have you lived here a long time?” Jenna managed to find her voice again.

“My grandfather bought this place after the Depression. He called it his fishing cabin.” Dev’s muffled voice drifted toward her. “I spent a few weeks with him every summer but I never saw him do any actual fishing. The only thing I remember seeing him do was sleep in the hammock all afternoon.”

Jenna frowned. “I assumed you grew up in Mirror Lake.”

“Really.” A bag of apples landed on the countertop. “What makes you say that? The flannel shirt you’re tying into knots—”

Horrified, Jenna looked down and saw a neat little placket of tortoiseshell buttons on what she’d thought was a throw.

“—or the ‘I Love My Truck’ poster on the wall?”

“You don’t have any posters on your wall.” She’d looked. “And you drive an SUV.”

“Violet picked it out. She doesn’t know the difference.” Dev’s crooked smile took her heart for a spin.

Feeling a little lightheaded, Jenna smiled back.

The refrigerator door swung open, blocking Dev from view. She continued the conversation anyway. Because really, he’d started it.

“It’s just that you seem comfortable here.” Comfortable in his own skin. “You…fit in.”

“Is that so?”

Even though she couldn’t see the smile on his face, she heard it in his voice. This time, however, Jenna had the impression he was laughing at himself, not at her.

What was wrong with fitting in?

It was something Jenna had always wanted. Moving from town to town at her mother’s whim made it difficult to put down roots. Or make friends. She’d dreamed of having a room of her own. A real home.

We’re here to stay,
Nola would promise. And then a few months later, they would pack up and move again. It wasn’t until college that Jenna had been able to reinvent herself.

No one knew about her past so Jenna was finally able to embrace her future. To make her own dreams come true.

The fact that she’d succeeded had surprised Jenna most of all.

“Pickings are kind of slim right now.” Dev tossed a twiggy branch of shriveled grapes to the growing pile of fruit on the counter. “I’ve been gone a lot.”

Dev didn’t say why, but it was the opening Jenna had hoped for.

“What do you do—” A framed photograph on the coffee table caught Jenna’s eye. She moved closer for a better look.

Through a veil of pouring rain, a mother eagle perched on the edge of a nest, one enormous wing stretched over three eaglets huddled together, sound asleep.

Jenna’s breath caught in her throat. “This photograph is incredible.”

Behind the refrigerator door came a muffled grunt.

“It looks like the mother eagle is protecting her babies from the storm,” Jenna murmured. “How would a photographer even know to
wait
for a shot like this?”

“Sometimes a person is in the right place at the right time.”

Jenna frowned at Dev’s back. Didn’t he realize how amazing it was?

She leaned closer and noticed a small inscription in the corner. “Do you know what this means? Psalm 91:4?”

All sound in the kitchen ceased.

Dev rose from behind the breakfast bar to look at her now. “It’s a verse from the Bible.”

“I know that.” Jenna cast him an impatient look. Her friend, Caitlin, included a passage from the same book underneath the IMAGEine logo. “Have you ever looked it up? Do you know what it
says?
”

Dev was staring at her with such an odd expression that Jenna wished she hadn’t asked.

“He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge.”

Something in the husky timbre of his voice told Jenna that not only could Dev quote the verse, he
believed
it.

Jenna was staring at him now, not the photograph.

Dev braced himself, waiting for her to mock the words. Or worse yet, dismiss them as irrelevant. Elaina had. He couldn’t blame her. He’d done the same thing to Jason every chance he got. It was a wonder his brother could stand to be in the same room with him, let alone seek out his company.

“It’s a nice thought.” There was not a hint of sarcasm in the words. Only…longing?

Dev didn’t know what to say. He was no preacher. Most of the time, he wasn’t sure if he was even getting this faith stuff right. He only knew that his life had been irrevocably changed five years ago.

“It’s more than a nice thought,” Dev heard himself say. “It’s true.”

He waited for Jenna to retreat the way she had when he’d tried to find out more about Logan and Tori. Or laugh at him. Instead, she touched the frame, her expression almost wistful.

“How do you know?”

“Because…” Dev felt his throat tighten. He couldn’t answer Jenna’s question without telling her about Jason and he wasn’t ready for that. Not yet. It was a wound slow to heal; one he’d kept covered. “I’ve experienced it.”

“An invisible umbrella?” The wistful expression in her eyes disappeared, snuffed out by a shadow of skepticism. “I know a lot of people who’ve been caught in a downpour that would disagree with you.”

And Jenna was one of them.

Really, God?
Dev sent a silent complaint heavenward.
I remembered the story about the Good Samaritan. Invited my neighbors over for dinner. Now you want me to tell Jenna about you?

Jason would have known exactly what to say.

“God doesn’t promise there won’t be storms.” Dev gave it a shot. “He promises not to leave us alone in the midst of them.”

Jenna’s eyebrows dipped together as if he were speaking a language she didn’t understand.

The fragile connection between them was broken as the door swung open and Logan poked his head in. “Dev? The burgers are making lotsa smoke.”

Jenna looked as grateful for the interruption as he was.

“I’ll stay here.” She reached for the bag of apples and the paring knife he’d set on the counter.

“Sounds good.” Really good. Dev wasn’t comfortable with the feelings that Jenna stirred up inside of him.

Her independence and vulnerability were proving to be a dangerous combination, testing Dev’s resolve to keep his distance.

He tried to picture Jenna being content to spend her evening in an isolated cabin, watching the stars for entertainment. In Mirror Lake the closest thing to a night at the symphony was the one the crickets and frogs performed outside the window on a summer evening.

The fact that she’d dropped her guard long enough to accept his dinner invitation was probably proof that she was already bored to death.

In the interest of self-preservation, Dev followed Logan outside and stayed by the campfire until Jenna returned a few minutes later, cradling a bowl of fresh fruit in her hands.

She stopped and looked around.

“Are you missing something?” Dev slid the last burger onto a plate.

“A table?”

Smiling, Dev pointed to a wool blanket spread on the ground. “It’s right there.”

Logan and Tori didn’t share their aunt’s hesitation. They dropped to their knees on the blanket while Jenna positioned herself gingerly on one corner.

Dev might have forgotten what it was like to have company, but there was something he did remember to do before every meal.

“Do you mind if I ask a blessing?”

Logan and Tori bowed their heads. With another curious look in his direction, Jenna imitated the gesture a moment later.

Dev closed his eyes. “Lord God, thank you for today. Thank you for the beauty of your creation and for the food you’ve provided. Bless it to our bodies and bless the people gathered here in your presence. Amen.”

“Amen,” Logan and Tori repeated.

Jenna’s head remained bowed a few more seconds, her gaze fixed on the table. When she looked up, Dev sucked in a breath.

Tears shimmered in her eyes.

For the first time, it occurred to him that maybe Logan wasn’t the only one who needed a friend.