Child of Grace (Love Inspired) (6 page)

“Not really. I just fleshed out the ideas. Let me walk you through it.”

For the next fifteen minutes, as she reviewed the document with him, Luke asked appropriate questions and made a few complimentary remarks. But he seemed distracted. As if he had other, more pressing, matters on his mind.

When she finished, Kelsey slipped the recommendations back into the folder and handed it over. “I’m used to dealing with the media and writing press releases, and I’ll be happy to continue helping with those things. It’s a worthwhile cause.”

“I appreciate that.” Luke tapped the folder against the top of the table, faint furrows creasing his brow.

Silence fell between them.

Kelsey shifted in her seat and scanned the vast expanse of blue water. Dark clouds were moving in and the wind was picking up, disturbing the placid surface. She should leave. A storm was approaching. Besides, the less contact with her disconcerting neighbor the better, right?

Right.

Then why was she hesitating?

One more quick peek at him gave her the answer. He, too, was focused on the horizon. And his face mirrored the turbulence in the lake.

“Luke…is everything okay?”

At her soft question, he blinked and shifted his attention to her. “Sorry. I’m a little distracted.”

“I noticed.”

One side of his mouth quirked up, but the worry in his eyes didn’t dissipate. “My sister needs a place to stay for three weeks. She’s arriving Friday.”

“I take it her visit is unexpected?”

“Very.”

He wasn’t offering much, and Kelsey wasn’t about to pry. Not after she’d rebuffed every attempt
he’d
made to ferret personal information from her.

Time to go.

She pushed her chair back and coaxed her lips into a smile. “Well, I won’t take up any more of your evening. I’m sure you have a lot of things to do to get ready for your company.”

“I’m sure I do, too.” He blew out a breath. “I just don’t know what they are.”

Kelsey squinted at him. “What do you mean?”

He shook his head and raked his fingers through his hair. “Hannah is seventeen. She was in diapers when I left for college, and I haven’t been home much since. We email some, but in my mind, she’s still a freckle-faced kid with braces and pigtails and an overblown case of hero worship for her big brother. I have no idea how to entertain her for three weeks.”

As he proceeded to explain the sequence of events that had led up to his mother’s phone call, she pulled her chair back to the table and crossed her arms on the glass top.

When he reached the end of the story, she gave a sympathetic nod. “I can see why you feel obligated to do this. But the timing’s not ideal, with the youth center project just starting up.”

“Tell me about it. I’m not going to have a lot of time to spend with her.”

“That might not be a problem. If she’s like most seventeen-year-olds, she’ll probably be happy to hang out on the beach, listen to music, watch DVDs and eat junk food.”

“You think?” He gave her a hopeful look.

“Yeah, I do. But it’s too bad she doesn’t have someone her own age to hang out with. Maybe there’s a youth fellowship activity or two that would appeal to her. You could ask Father Joe.”

“Good idea.”

A gust of wind whipped some strands of hair across her face, and Kelsey pushed them aside as thunder rumbled in the distance. Once more she slid her chair back.

“We’d better take cover. Lake storms can be nasty, and this one is approaching fast.” As she spoke, she hoisted herself to her feet and examined the sky. The dark clouds had scuttled closer as they talked, erasing any evidence of the earlier blue sky. A raindrop plopped onto the glass-topped table, followed by another. “I’m out of here.”

Grabbing the manila file folder, Luke followed her to the edge of the deck. “Listen, I appreciate all your help with the project. And your encouragement. Hannah’s a good kid. We’ll work things out, I’m sure.”

She stopped at the top of the steps and turned to him. “I am, too. But in case things go south for any reason, I was a seventeen-year-old girl once. A long time ago. I might be able to offer some advice.”

“I’ll take all the advice I can get. With Hannah, and with this.” He waved the file folder as the rain intensified. “You better get home before you’re soaked. Unless you want to sit out the storm in my kitchen over a cup of tea.”

For a fleeting moment, she was tempted to accept his invitation. Odd, when half an hour ago she hadn’t wanted to get anywhere near his house.

Before the temptation became too strong to resist, she shook her head and retreated down the steps. “Thanks, but this could be a long one. It might last all night.”

There was a subtle shift in his eyes. Or perhaps it was just a shadow in the deepening twilight. Kelsey wasn’t certain. And she didn’t wait around to find out.

Calling a good-bye over her shoulder, she hurried toward her house.

By the time she reached her screened porch and slipped inside, the rain was coming down in earnest. Big drops pelted the ground, lightning slashed through the roiling black clouds and thunder boomed.

Kelsey moved into the safety of Gram’s house, locked the door behind her and flipped on lights to dispel the gloom. Lake storms had never bothered her. They came in all blustery and ferocious, but when they were over, very little had changed. Pier Cove went on as before.

Too bad the storms of life didn’t work the same way.

Yet if they had, she’d still be in the backbiting world of corporate politics. Still sacrificing any semblance of a personal life in pursuit of the gold ring of a vice-president slot. Still searching for happiness and fulfillment in the wrong place.

Still alone.

Pausing by the kitchen window, Kelsey rested her hand on her growing stomach and looked through the trees. Warm light spilled from Luke’s windows, chasing away the stormy darkness.

Funny how a neighbor she hadn’t wanted had so quickly worked his way into her life. All because of an idealistic, faith-filled young medic she would never know. Thanks to Carlos Fernandez, she’d met a man who was helping her heal. A man whose kindness, honor and unselfish generosity were starting to banish her fear. A man whose strength of character and steadfast principles were bolstering her trust and giving her hope for a future free of fear.

All of that was good.

But Luke Turner was doing one other thing, too. He was beginning to work his way into her heart as well as her life.

And considering his short tenure in Michigan, that could be bad.

W
as that Hannah?

Luke clutched a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a cup of Starbucks coffee in the other as he stared at the model-like young woman in the crowd of passengers emerging from the gate area of Gerald R. Ford International Airport in Grand Rapids.

He hadn’t seen her in two years. She’d been away on a mission trip last year when he’d gone home on leave, and the year before he hadn’t made it home at all. He took a closer look. Yeah, that was her all right. His mom regularly emailed family pictures, though they hadn’t done his kid sister justice.

Nor had they prepared him for the fact that she wasn’t a kid anymore.

Not by a long shot.

Spotting him, she smiled and waved. He didn’t recognize the sleek, trendy hairstyle that feathered around her face and swept down her back, but he was relieved to see her eyes hadn’t changed. She might have grown into a sophisticated young woman, but those baby blues hadn’t lost their endearing sweetness and guileless charm.

Rather than head upstream of the crowd, he waited until she reached him.

“Hey, Luke.” She stopped in front of him and gave him a wide, if slightly uncertain, smile.

He grinned and shook his head. “My little sister has morphed into a high-fashion model. When did you grow up?”

A pleased blush colored her cheeks. “According to Mom and Dad, I’m not there yet. That’s why they foisted me on you. Sorry about that.”

He waved the apology aside, enjoying her familiar drawl. “Nothing to be sorry about. This will give us a chance to catch up.” He tossed his empty cup into a nearby trash container and pulled her to him. “How about a hug?”

Wrapping her in his arms, he held her close. The floral fragrance in her hair reminded him of the flowers in his hand, and when he released her, he held them out. “Welcome to Michigan.”

She took them, burying her face in the assortment of roses, carnations and daisies. “This was really nice. Thank you, Luke.”

“You’re welcome.” He made a mental note to pass the thank-you on to Kelsey. She’d suggested the flowers yesterday when she called to tell him about some radio interviews she was lining up. “Let’s get your luggage and head home. Are you hungry?”

“Starved. All I had on the airplane was a tiny bag of pretzels.”

“How does pizza sound? There’s a good place in Saugatuck.”

“That would be great.”

As they waited for her luggage, she filled him in on her trip. Much to his relief, she wasn’t resentful about the disruption in her summer plans with her friend, and she seemed to be genuinely looking forward to her beach time, assuring him she’d brought a bunch of paperbacks to read while she soaked up the sun.

By the time they were in his car and headed toward the lake house after dinner, the knot of tension that had formed between his shoulder blades after he’d agreed to host his sister began to unwind.

Hannah was a poised, self-sufficient young woman with her head on straight. Unlike many of her peers, she didn’t have an attitude. She was easy to talk to, with a bubbly sense of humor that kept him laughing during much of the drive.

It seemed he’d been worrying over nothing.

This visit was going to be a piece of cake.

Yawning, Luke tucked his T-shirt into his shorts and padded barefoot into the kitchen. He’d slept far later than usual. But it was Saturday. And Hannah had assured him last night, after she’d settled in, that she didn’t need a babysitter, that she was perfectly capable of getting her own breakfast and lunch, and that she might even try her hand at cooking a few dinners for them.

With his apprehensions eased, it was no wonder he’d passed out for ten solid hours.

A note on the dinette table caught his eye, and he strolled over to read it.

“At the beach. Couldn’t wait to see it in daylight!” His sister had signed it in her scrawling hand.

Lips curving into a smile, Luke started a pot of coffee and filled a mug with milk for hot chocolate. Whenever he’d been home, that had always been Hannah’s morning drink of choice. Maybe they could spend a relaxing hour or two on the beach together, catching up. And if Kelsey appeared, all the better. He suspected his neighbor and his sister would hit it off.

Things were definitely looking up on the home front.

While the coffee brewed, he shaved and grabbed a towel. Then he filled an insulated mug with the fresh brew and nuked Hannah’s milk, stirring in a generous helping of chocolate. The second beach chair he’d placed on the deck was gone, so he grabbed the remaining one and headed down the steps.

As he waded through the beach grass at the bottom, he noticed two buff, twenty-something guys in swim trunks standing near the water to his right. Their backs were toward him, but they hadn’t stopped to admire the view over the water. Instead, they were facing the small public beach only locals seemed to frequent, a short walk down the sand. They weren’t looking at that, either, though. Their heads were bent.

Why?

The instant Luke cleared the beach grass, he had his answer.

Hannah.

Through their legs, he could see her reclining in her beach chair. Her head was tipped back, and she was smiling up at the college-age guys. He couldn’t hear their banter, but he did hear masculine chuckles mingling with a flirty laugh that was way too adult to be coming from his baby sister.

His newfound peace of mind evaporated. No wonder his parents hadn’t wanted to leave Hannah home alone.

Clearing his throat, he moved toward the small group.

The two college jocks angled toward him as he approached, and Hannah peeked around them, aiming a megawatt smile his way.

“Hi, Luke. Ah didn’t wake ya’ll, did I?”

One glance told Luke her two young admirers were eating up the honey-voiced drawl that was common among Southern belles in Atlanta but an exotic and appealing rarity in Michigan.

“No. I brought you some hot chocolate.”

She grinned at him. “Thank you. I haven’t had any in years.” She reached for it as she motioned to a mug in the sand. “I fixed myself some instant coffee this mornin’ ’cause I didn’t know if you wanted a whole pot.”

She drank coffee now. Not hot chocolate.

Heat crept up Luke’s neck. “I always make a pot.”

“I’ll remember that. Luke, meet Jason and Eric. They were down at the public beach and wandered up this way. We were just gettin’ acquainted. Jason, Eric, this is my brother, Luke.”

The two guys gave him polite nods, and Jason stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

Although Luke was used to that title from his military days, it suddenly made him feel old.

He released the kid’s hand and opened his chair. “Well, don’t let me interrupt your conversation. I’ll just enjoy the view.” He set up his chair a few feet away, angled in their direction, rather than toward the water, and sat down.

Hannah shot him a surprised look while the two college jocks shifted on the sand, clearly uncomfortable with his presence.

Good.

The boys made stilted small talk for a couple of minutes, and then Hannah stood, shooting a disgruntled glare at Luke before addressing her admirers.

“Want to take a walk? It looks like the beach goes on for miles in that direction. And I could use some exercise after sittin’ in planes for hours yesterday.” She gestured down the long expanse of sand in the opposite direction of the nearby public beach, where a few family groups were gathered.

“Sure.” Jason’s relief was transparent.

Hannah reached down for her hot chocolate and raised it in salute to Luke. “Thanks again for this. I’ll be back in a little while.”

She paused for a split second, as if waiting to see whether he was going to protest—and embarrass her further.

Stymied, he stared at her in silence.

With a flip of her hair, she turned her back and sauntered down the sand, a stud on each side.

Luke blew out a frustrated breath as they walked away, the tension once more bunching in his shoulders. Talk about being blindsided. When he’d agreed to let Hannah come, he’d been worried about keeping her entertained.

That was obviously not going to be a problem.

Instead, he had a bigger one.

As he watched the threesome grow smaller in the distance, a muscle clenched in his jaw and he tightened his grip on his mug.

Lord, I think I’m going to need some help here.

From the far side of her yard, where she’d gone to retrieve a plastic shopping bag the wind had tossed into a bush, Kelsey watched the tableau below with amusement. Her view of the beach was unobstructed by leafy branches, and she didn’t need sound—or subtitles—to figure out what was going on.

Nor did she have any trouble discerning Luke’s frustration—and panic. Though the tall beach grass obscured details, the sudden stiffening in his stance when he’d come across the scene—and the protective placement of his beach chair—communicated loud and clear.

But he’d been one-upped by the blonde, who had to be Hannah. There’d been defiance in her stance as she’d faced off with him, and triumph in her saunter when she’d walked away with the two young men.

It looked as if Luke was going to need some help with his sister sooner rather than later.

After snagging the wayward bag off the bush, Kelsey returned to the house and gathered up her own beach things, as well as a tin of scones Dorothy had sent home with her yesterday. She kept an eye on the long stretch of sand, and when she saw Luke’s sister and her admirers making their way back down the beach twenty minutes later, she headed out the door and toward the steps, picking up her own beach chair along the way.

She timed her arrival to theirs, flashing them a smile as she emerged from the tall grass. “Good morning.”

Luke stood when he caught sight of her, and she waved before turning her attention back to the three younger people who had halted opposite her. “You must be Hannah, Luke’s sister.” She held out her hand. “I’m Kelsey, your next-door neighbor.”

The girl smiled and took her hand. “Luke told me about you.”

Though she kept her smile firmly fixed, Kelsey wondered what Luke had said. “I’ve heard about you, too. Welcome to Michigan.”

Luke came up beside them. “Can I carry that for you?” He gestured toward Kelsey’s bag and chair.

“Sure. Over there will be fine.” She handed them to him and gestured farther down the beach. “Would you like to join me?”

She pinned him with a meaningful look, and after a moment he nodded. “Okay. I’ll set you up, then get my stuff.”

Hannah flashed her a grateful smile as Luke moved down the beach.

“I have some homemade scones in my bag, if you all are interested.” She encompassed the small group in her comment. “Blueberry, cinnamon and lemon. Why don’t you give me a minute to get set up, and then come help yourselves? I have plenty.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Hannah spoke for all of them.

Luke’s sister headed toward her chair, and her two admirers followed as if she were the Pied Piper.

While Luke collected his things, Kelsey made her way over to her own chair and awkwardly lowered herself into it. Her neighbor was right. One of these days very soon she was going to have to switch to a regular lawn chair. She could still get into this one. But getting out was becoming a major problem.

By the time he returned and set up his chair beside her, she had settled in and was opening the canvas bag she’d toted down with her.

“I take it I made a tactical error.”

The corners of her mouth lifted into a smile at his quiet comment. “Kids that age need space.”

He sighed and settled his sunglasses on his nose, all the while keeping tabs on his sister. “Yeah. But they also need supervision. Even if they don’t think they do.” He narrowed his eyes as one of the young men leaned in close to Hannah.

Kelsey’s lips twitched. “That’s true. But a more subtle approach might work better.”

He transferred his attention to her. With the dark shades, she couldn’t read his eyes, but she could feel his scrutiny.

“What those guys have on their minds isn’t subtle.”

A flush warmed her cheeks, and she made a production out of pulling the tin of scones from her bag. “Maybe not. But Hannah seems to be handling them just fine. And they appear to be behaving themselves.”

“Things might be different if we weren’t close by.” He raked his fingers through his hair and shook his head. “I was afraid this visit might be challenging. But this wasn’t the kind of challenge I had in mind.”

As laughter drifted their way from the three younger people, Kelsey looked toward them and held up the tin. Hannah smiled and spoke to the young men, and the three of them started down the beach.

“You might want to give her a chance to prove she’s responsible before you shift into overprotective mode.” Kelsey popped the lid on the scones and held the tin out to him. “I recommend the blueberry. And I’d take one quick if I were you. I have a feeling those two young guys are going to make short work of my stash.”

Ten minutes later, as Luke dug around in the bottom of the tin for the few crumbs that remained, he had to admit Kelsey had been right about Hannah’s admirers. They’d devoured Dorothy’s scones.

She’d been right about being overprotective, too. As Hannah interacted with the young men while they ate their scones, she was poised, confident—and in control. With every gesture and every word, she was setting clear boundaries for them. Letting them know what pleased her—and what didn’t. It was masterful to watch, from the look of disapproval she shot Eric after he uttered an offensive word, to the wrinkled nose she offered Jason when he mentioned a raucous drinking party his fraternity had sponsored last school year.

As the three younger people conversed a few feet away, Kelsey raised an eyebrow at him, as if to say,
See? She’s fine. You have nothing to worry about.

He wasn’t convinced of that yet, but he did feel a little less driven to hover over her every minute of her stay. Not that he could anyway, with his commitments to the youth center project. That was part of the problem.