Child of Grace (Love Inspired) (8 page)

“Man, you are getting the once-over from every female in this place,” his sister teased him.

The tips of Luke’s ears reddened, and Kelsey stifled a grin. For a moment, she was tempted to tease him, too. But he seemed embarrassed enough already. Which was kind of cute. And endearing. Vanity was clearly not one of his faults.

“Do you have any brothers, Kelsey?” Hannah spread her napkin on her lap.

Giving him a reprieve, Kelsey turned her attention to the young woman beside her. “No brothers. Just the one older sister I mentioned yesterday. But thanks to her, I have two darling nephews and a sweet little niece. The boys are six and nine, and Emily is four. She’s a doll. Would you like to see a picture of them?”

“Sure.”

As Kelsey searched through her purse, she took a sidelong look at Luke. The pink in his ears was beginning to fade.

Pulling out her wallet, she flipped through the plastic sleeves. “This is my favorite. It’s from last Christmas.”

She turned it around and passed it over to Hannah. Luke leaned close to examine it, too. In the shot, her sister and brother-in-law sat on the floor by their fireplace, their smiling children clustered around them.

“They look like a nice family. Where do they live?” Hannah handed the wallet back.

“Dallas. That’s where I grew up.”

“I thought you lived in St. Louis before you came here?” Luke shot her a quizzical look.

“My job took me there.” She tucked the wallet back into her purse.

Hannah fiddled with the straw in her water glass. “It’s too bad the cousins will live so far from each other.”

The innocent remark reminded Kelsey yet again that she had a choice to make. And depending on what she decided, the cousins might never know each other.

That thought saddened her.

The waitress arrived, saving her from having to respond. But after they placed their orders, she caught Luke watching her. And she continued to feel his surreptitious scrutiny throughout the meal. As she picked at her Huevos Pumpernickel, a dish she usually demolished, she tried to smile and chat as if everything was fine. But she sensed Luke had detected her sudden change of mood—and knew she was troubled.

Much to her relief, the conversation remained on impersonal topics for the rest of the meal. Nevertheless, she was glad when sufficient time passed for her to leave without appearing rude.

Taking one last bite of egg, she wiped her lips and used the napkin to hide the substantial amount of food that remained on her plate.

“Well, I need to be off. I have some errands to run, including a trip to the grocery store.” She stood.

Luke rose, too. “I thought I’d drop Hannah off at your shop in the morning, on my way to the board meeting. She can look around and visit with Ms. Martin, if that’s okay. Around nine forty-five?”

“That’s fine.” She smiled at Hannah. “I told Dorothy about you, by the way, and she’s looking forward to meeting you.”

“Great. Maybe I can even get her to share those scone recipes.”

“I have absolute confidence you’ll charm them right out of her. Thank you both for inviting me today.”

“It was our pleasure.” The warmth was back in Luke’s eyes. Along with questions.

She tried to ignore both.

Picking up her purse, she aimed a smile their way, then wound through the diners to the street, passing a large table where a group ranging in age from seniors to toddlers was laughing and chatting. Most likely an extended family that had convened in the Saugatuck area for a vacation or a reunion. It happened all the time around here.

As she walked past the happy family, one of the young children darted from his seat to chase a wayward fork. She pulled up short, placing a protective hand on her stomach while the mother apologized and pulled the toddler out of her path.

The baby kicked under her fingers, perhaps protesting the abrupt halt, and a smile tugged at her lips. Day by day, the child within her grew more active—and assertive. And day by day, her emotional investment in the new life she was carrying intensified.

Yet Reverend Howard was right. Every child deserved to be cherished with a love that was free of baggage and untainted by bad memories.

Unfortunately, she had plenty of both.

As she trekked toward her car, she once again wrestled with the questions that increasingly plagued her. When she held her baby for the first time, would her heart fill with love—or antipathy? Would she experience joy and contentment—or be reminded of pain and terror and revulsion?

She didn’t know. Yet.

But she prayed every day for enlightenment.

And she also prayed for courage. To not only make the right decision, but to see it through.

Wherever that might lead her.

L
uke angled his car into a spot across from Kelsey’s shop, set the brake and noted the time on the old-fashioned clock that held a place of honor on Douglas’s quaint main thoroughfare. Twelve-fifteen. The board meeting had run a full two hours; he hoped Hannah hadn’t worn out her welcome—or gotten bored.

But three minutes later, when he stepped inside the shop, he found her bustling around the tearoom, a smile on her face as she helped serve lunch.

Spotting him, she waved and strode over, the frilly white apron with starched ruffles at the shoulders looking incongruous over her stone-washed jeans and pink tank top.

“Hi, Luke. How was the meeting?”

“Good.” He gestured to her attire. “What’s this all about?”

She smoothed the crisp white fabric over her jeans. “Dorothy was in a bind. She only has two servers, and one of them quit without any notice this morning. Since Dorothy had just shared her scone recipes with me, I offered to pitch in. Seemed like a fair exchange. And you know what? I’m having a blast!”

One of the patrons at a nearby table raised her hand, and Hannah called out to her. “I’ll be right with ya’ll.” Then she gave him a hug. “Gotta go. You don’t mind if I hang around here this afternoon, do you? Kelsey said she’d give me a ride home when the shop closes at four. And she said I could sit in on her beginners quilting class at two-thirty.”

“Sure. That’s fine.” So much for his worries about her being bored.

“You want some lunch? The asparagus quiche is to die for, and it comes with lemon scones and a strawberry salad. There’s homemade apple cobbler for dessert, too, if you’re still hungry. Warm from the oven. With ice cream.”

“Okay. You convinced me. I’ll stop in and see Kelsey for a minute first, though. Is she here?” He scanned the quilt shop, but didn’t see any sign of her.

“She was.” Hannah looked over her shoulder. “But she told me she likes to walk to the lake at lunch. Maybe she went down there. Or she might be in the back room. You can check.”

Without waiting for a response, she hurried over to the customer who had summoned her.

Left on his own, Luke strolled into the Not Your Grandmother’s Quilts side of the shop, checking out Kelsey’s home away from home. On his first visit, he’d been so surprised to discover his neighbor was the PR expert recommended by Reverend Howard that he’d hardly noticed his surroundings. And she’d whisked him over to Tea for Two before he’d had a chance to look around her shop.

As he wandered through the merchandise, the conversation he’d overheard between his sister and Kelsey on the beach Saturday came back to him. Now he understood what she’d meant when she told Hannah she didn’t do country. The quilts on display were more like modern art, featuring swirls of color, geometric patterns and 3-D designs. That same artsy look could also be found in the smaller items on display—wall hangings of various sizes, purses, tote bags, table runners, placemats, pot holders, pillow covers. The designs were eye-catching and created with impressive flair.

No question about it, the shop definitely lived up to its name. These quilts were nothing like the homespun version favored by his Grandma Turner, who’d made a quilt or two in her day. He could see why Hannah had found them appealing. And why she was intrigued enough to want to take a class.

Venturing farther back, he noted the work table he’d spotted on his first visit, and the desk with the computer where Kelsey had been working that day. In the opposite corner, a partly finished quilt in shades of blue, green and magenta was secured in a stand-alone quilting frame, the intricate design stunning. A swivel lamp was attached to the frame, and an adjustable chair on rollers was pushed underneath. Bolts of fabric were tucked into shelves along the back wall, and two sewing machines stood at the ready.

As Luke finished his tour, the bell over the front door jingled. He turned in time to see Kelsey enter.

She saw him at once, hesitating for a fraction of a second before she moved into the shop. “Hi. Have you been here long?”

“Less than five minutes. Sorry I’m so late. The meeting ran long.”

“No problem.” She deposited her oversized tote—the one Hannah had admired at the beach—on the work table. “Is everything a go?”

“Yes. Plus, I have other good news. Father Joe met with Steve Lange, who owns the property the board has its eye on for the center, and managed to sweet-talk him into agreeing to sell the land to the youth fellowship for less than its book value and take the rest as a charitable donation.”

Kelsey smiled. “I have to meet this dynamo padre one of these days.”

“There’s more. Dennis Lawson, the manager of the hotel where Carlos worked in high school, offered to host the fundraising dinner and auction at cost. And one of the other pastors has an award-winning architect in his congregation who may be willing to comp his design services for the center.” He grinned. “Not bad for a week’s work.”

She leaned back against the edge of the work table and folded her arms across her chest. “That’s an understatement. And Father Joe and his colleagues aren’t the only ones with silver tongues. You roped me into the project, too. Quite a feat.”

He didn’t know how to interpret that last remark, and she continued without giving him time to decipher it.

“Hannah says she’ll bring her computer in here tomorrow and work on the Twitter idea, since I have wireless. I’ve also contacted the TV news programs in Holland and Grand Rapids. They sound interested in doing a story. And I think it would be helpful if you visit the churches that sponsor the youth fellowship and make a personal pitch. It would probably take you three Sundays to hit them all, but it’s doable if you’re willing. I checked the times of services at all of them. Part of your pitch should involve soliciting donations for the dinner auction—and encouraging people to attend. This kind of event can bring in big bucks if enough publicity and support is generated. Are you ready for this afternoon’s interview?”

Head reeling from her rapid-fire delivery, he nodded. “I think so.”

“Did you prepare any talking points?”

“I thought I’d just answer the reporter’s questions.”

She shook her head. “Not good enough. You have to guide the interview. No matter what you’re asked, no matter what the reporter’s agenda, you have to make sure you get
your
message out.” Pushing up from the table, she moved over to her desk, plucked up a printed sheet and handed it to him.

He skimmed the bullet points, impressed. In a few lines, she’d captured the key messages he needed to convey to the media, the congregations and any other groups he might address. The who, what, where, why and how were all laid out for him, with suggestions for ways to give the story the kind of emotional appeal that would tug at the heartstrings—and persuade people to open their wallets.

“This is great.” He looked up. “Hannah suggested I have lunch at the tearoom, so I’ll study this while I eat and jot down some notes.” He shot her an admiring look as he folded the sheet of paper in half. “I have a feeling you left a big hole in your company when you walked away.”

She gave a rueful shake of her head. “In the corporate world, no one is missed for long. Besides, I prefer to apply my skills to my own business. Although it took a—” She stopped. Moistened her lips. “…a strong wake-up call for me to realize I’d rather make my mark in my own business than in someone else’s.”

“What kind of wake-up call?” He knew it was a gamble to ask. She’d been skittish and close-mouthed around him since they’d met. Yet she’d seemed relaxed around Hannah, shared some of her history with his sister. Maybe she felt comfortable enough with him by now to answer that question. Wrong.

“Long story.” She brushed him off with a wave of her hand and moved on. “Anyway, I’m doing a major overhaul of my grandmother’s website, and I’ll be targeting very specific media with story ideas that should generate orders for the shop.”

Okay. Fine. She wanted to stick to business, he’d stick to business.

And try not to let it bother him that she was willing to talk to Hannah but not to him.

“That sounds like it may be very effective. But how much can one person produce?”

“It depends. Custom-designed, hand-sewn quilts like that one—” she gestured to the in-progress blue-and-green number he’d noticed earlier “—are very high-end, very time-consuming…and very expensive. My grandmother used the income from them to supplement her Social Security, but I need to earn a living. So I also do machine-quilted commissions. And I’ve turned lots of my designs into smaller items that could even be outsourced and mass-produced.” She gestured to the sheet of paper in his hand. “Now you’d better start prepping. The interview is in an hour and a half. Where are you meeting the reporter?”

“At St. Francis.”

“Good choice. Have him get a few quotes from Father Joe, too, if you can.”

“Luke.” Hannah hissed at him from between two of the quilts that separated the shops. “Are you eating here or not? We’re down to our last piece of asparagus quiche.”

“I’ll be right over.”

“Okay.” Her head disappeared and the quilts fell back into place.

He refocused on Kelsey. “It sounds like my sister has made herself at home here. She mentioned sitting in on a quilting class this afternoon.”

“Yes. It’s a beginner class that will meet every afternoon this week. By Friday, everyone will have designed and stitched a small wall hanging. If she decides to continue to help at Tea for Two, the timing will work out great. And you won’t have to worry about who she’s with. Or what she’s doing.”

“I think I’ve gotten past that.”

“I’m sure Hannah will be relieved.” Kelsey’s mouth twitched, drawing his attention to her lips.

With an effort, he dragged his gaze back to her eyes. Some wariness still lurked in their depths, but a flash of humor gave him an intriguing peek at her playful side. He’d spotted it for a moment yesterday, too, when Hannah had ribbed him at Pumpernickel’s about drawing admiring glances. Kelsey had seemed poised to join in the fun, but then she’d backed off. At the time, he’d been grateful. Now, he wished she’d followed her instincts. He had a feeling he’d have enjoyed being teased by her.

And this line of thought was not going to help him prepare for the interview.

He lifted his hand and waved the paper. “Wish me luck.”

“You’ll do fine. Just speak from the heart.”

“Right.”

Retracing his steps to the front of the shop, he crossed into Tea for Two and let Hannah show him to a table. As he ate his meal and jotted notes on the sheet Kelsey had prepared for him, he replayed her final instruction in his mind.

Speak from the heart.

It might not be easy, but he could do that. This was his final, self-imposed mission, and he didn’t intend to fail. Letting Carlos down wasn’t an option. If he had to reach deep for the emotions locked in his heart, he’d do so. The outcome mattered too much to let his usual self-contained manner and self-control get in the way.

And there was another outcome that mattered, too—finding out what made his wary neighbor tick.

But he was far less clear on his motivation for
that
mission.

“Today was so cool, Luke!”

As he spread mayo on their turkey sandwiches, Luke smiled at Hannah while she put the cutlery and condiments on a tray. “My sister, the waitress. And here I thought you wanted to be a lawyer.”

“Very funny.” She wrinkled her nose and pointed a fork at him. “Dorothy is great, and I had a lot of fun. Tomorrow she said she’d let me bake a batch of the scones and give me tips along the way.” She set the fork on the table, and her tone grew melancholy. “You know, she kind of reminds me of Grandma Turner.”

His father’s mother had died three years ago, and while her passing had saddened Luke, he’d never had the relationship with her Hannah had enjoyed. Margaret Turner had moved in with the family six years ago from her home in North Carolina, and from everything his mother had told him, she and Hannah had hit it off from the beginning.

Kind of like Kelsey and her grandmother had, from what he’d been able to discern.

And speaking of Kelsey…

Luke cut the two sandwiches in half and set them on plates, adding some potato salad he’d picked up at the deli in the grocery store on his way home from the interview. “I know you miss Grandma, Hannah. But I’m glad you like Ms. Martin. Kelsey seems to have adopted her as a grandmother, too. So how did the quilting class go?” Not the smoothest or most empathetic segue. But it would have to do.

“It was fun. I never thought I was all that artistic, but Kelsey worked with me and we came up with a great design. It will look fabulous in my room at home. She was really good with the other three ladies in the class, too. What a nice person.” She added napkins to the tray and began filling glasses with water. “I can’t believe she never got married. You’d think the guys would be flocking around her. But she said she was always too busy with her career to think about romance.”

Luke stared at his sister. “Kelsey’s never been married?”

“No.”

“How do you know?”

“I asked.”

“You
asked?
Just like that?”

She shot him a “get real” look. “Hey, give me some credit, okay? I’m not that tactless. I asked if she was a widow.”

Better. But not by much. “Don’t you think she’d have told you that if she wanted you to know?”

Setting the glasses of water on the tray, Hannah propped her hands on her hips. “My dear brother, if you don’t ask questions, people think you’re not interested in them. She wasn’t offended, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Good.” He angled toward the sink on the pretense of rinsing his hands, and strove for a casual tone. “So, if she’s not a widow, where’s the baby’s father?”

Hannah picked up the tray and headed for the back door. “I don’t know. All she said was that he wasn’t part of her life. That’s when I stopped asking questions.” She pushed the door open with her hip, walked across the deck and began unloading the tray on the glass-topped table.