From the Start (35 page)

Kate had seen it before. It’s why all the businesses along the three-block riverfront stretch were all new or renovated within the past twelve years—since the last major flood gobbled up the area.

“You’ve obviously made a valiant effort here, but it’s time to go home. You’re exhausted and . . . and pregnant.”

“Thanks for the reminder.”

“You need rest.”

“I need to save my livelihood.” Her dark gaze shot bullets.

The musty smell of river water overtook the coffee shop’s usual coffee aroma. “Megan—”

“Why are you even here?” The words exploded from her, and she flung her arms up. “Why do you keep showing up? Here, at my house, the doctor’s office—”

“You called me—”

“You don’t know me. You don’t owe me. You’re nothing to me. Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

The anger in Megan’s voice, the sharpness of her words—“
You’re nothing to me”
—blocked any response. Kate hugged her arms to herself, cold and fatigue no match for the worry charging through her.
Oh, Megan . . .

The girl’s shoulders slumped then, her body going limp as she sunk down to sit on the shop vac, as if suddenly emptied of argument. “I put everything into this place—all the money I had left, every cent.”

Kate pulled a chair away from a table, lowered. “I know you did.”

“I made the mistake of calling my parents when I was thinking of buying it. So of course my dad called the Realtor—got him to admit the reason I was getting such a good price on the building was because it’s on flood ground. I didn’t care. Wasn’t going to let the man who’d ignored me most of my life suddenly butt in and keep me from my future.”

It was the most Kate had ever heard Megan say at once.

“So of course I ignored Dad and bought the place anyway. And now look—I’m going to lose it. And right when I need it most.” She looked up, eyes hooking on Kate’s from behind pooling tears and strands of hair that hung over her face. “I’m going to have to go home and tell my parents I lost everything—and oh yeah, I’m knocked up.”

Kate leaned forward to brush the hair out of Megan’s face. “You haven’t lost everything, Megan.”

She sniffled, swiped her sleeved arm under her nose. “I guess not. I have flood insurance.”

“That’s not exactly what I meant, but yay for that, all the same.” She laid one hand on Megan’s knee. “But what I meant was, you saw the way Maple Valley pulled together after the tornado, right? It’s going to be the same way after this. I bet you’ll be blown away at how this community comes around you and everyone else affected by the flood. Same way they did my dad and the depot.”

“I’ve only lived here two years. I’m not your dad.”

Kate allowed a lightness into her voice. “We’ve already talked about this, Meg. You supply the coffee. And that makes you a vital fixture of the community.”

The faintest smile attempted an appearance on Megan’s face.

“And it’s going to be the same when you have this baby. If you let them, people are going to be there for you.” Kate squeezed Megan’s knee. “
I’m
going to be there for you.”

Megan’s hair flopped forward again when she lifted her head. “But—”

“Yes, I’m going to Africa, but I’m going to be home a couple months before your due date. Chicago’s only five hours away. I can come home tons.”

Maybe even . . .

Move home? Was it really a possibility? What if the trip to Africa turned into an eventual job offer from the foundation? Could she really say no to that to come back to Maple Valley?

See the need in front of you.

What happened when there were multiple needs in different places? How did a person choose?

How did Mom choose?

“Kate, I, uh . . . I didn’t mean what I said before. You’re not nothing to me.”

She vaguely recognized the sound of the bells chiming over the coffee shop’s entrance, the burst of chilly, damp air. She didn’t turn. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

“A lot of people in this town are nice. But you’re the first one who . . .” Megan gave a limp shrug. “Well, you know. I suppose I considered myself completely alone before.”

She weighed her next words before speaking, a thread of a prayer running through them when she did let them out. “I’m going to say something, Meg, at the risk of sounding trite, but hear me out, okay?” At Megan’s curious nod, she continued. “You were never completely alone. I don’t know if you have any kind of faith or even believe in God—”

“I do. I guess.” She shook the hair out of her eyes. “In a ‘
somebody
must have created the world’ kind of way.”

“All right, then. So if you can believe that—that there’s a God who created a world out of nothing—then it’s not such a leap to believe He’s present in the here and now. And that He can pick up the pieces of your life—even when it feels like a flood-ravaged mess—and turn it into something brand new.” She paused until Megan met her eyes. “Maybe . . . probably . . . something better than you imagined. Not easier, perhaps. But better, and all the richer for what you’ve been through.”

“You believe that?”

She might be surprised at her own words, surprised they’d chosen now—in the middle of a natural disaster—to spring. But yes, she believed them. Maybe now more than ever. “Haven’t always been the best at remembering it when I’m in the middle of my own messes. But I do believe it.”

Megan’s head tilted then, as a shadow drifted over them. “You.”

Kate looked up. Colton. Warmth swept through her, a reaction to his presence that was becoming more familiar—more consuming—with each day that passed. “Hey, you. How’d you know I was here?”

“I asked about a hundred people until someone said they saw you jogging this direction. They’ll be closing the bridge any minute. You have any idea how worried I’ve been?”

Megan laughed—actually laughed. “You two are echoes of each other. Kate said those exact words like fifteen minutes ago.”

Kate stood, still swallowed up in Colton’s shadow, awareness puddling inside her. “Sorry to worry you. But you found me. Let’s go before the bridge closes. You need a ride, Meg?”

Megan rose. “Oh, I’m not leaving.”

“But everything we just talked about—”

“I heard you, and I even believe you—that the town will pull together, I’m not alone, even . . . even the last part.” She reached for the shop vac’s hose. “But I still have to try.”

“But—”

“In that case, we’ll help,” Colton said.

Kate’s gaze flung to his face. “Colton?”

“We can at least minimize the damage. We’ll pile as much of the furniture as we can onto counters. Or, wait, even better—Kate, didn’t you say Bear lives upstairs? Maybe he’d let us haul some of it up there.”

“The Archway is going to close in minutes. Once it closes,
it’s like a domino effect downriver—all the roads and bridges for thirty, forty miles south of here will be barricaded, too. The ones north are already closed. If we don’t leave now, we’re not getting home today.”

“Then we’ll crash on someone’s couch or get a couple hotel rooms.”

“You’d do that?” Megan said.

Colton draped one arm around Kate’s shoulder. “Of course we would. Right, Rosie?”

The grin on her face couldn’t hope to contain all the admiration—or very possibly something much, much more—heating through her. “Of course.”

Colton leaned against the doorframe of Megan’s bedroom, watching as Kate pulled the covers over the now-sleeping young woman. Band posters covered the walls, and dark clothing lay strewn around the room.

And yet, her comforter was patterned in bright pinks and greens and yellows. As if there was still very much a lingering little girl inside the twenty-one-year-old, business-owning, soon-to-be single mother.

Kate rose gently and padded to him. “She’s asleep,” she whispered.

Fatigue pulled at Kate’s features, any makeup long since faded away and her hair a mess of tangles and . . .

And he was pretty sure she was more beautiful than ever.

She glanced over her shoulder. “I wonder how long it’s been since someone tucked her in.”

“She’s lucky to have you.”

Kate tipped her head toward him. “No, today she was lucky to have
you
.”

“Both of us, then. We make a good team.” Did his voice sound as husky to her as it did to him?

With one palm on his chest, Kate nudged him into the hallway and closed Megan’s bedroom door behind her. “Megan has a guest bedroom. Thought I’d camp out here for a while, catch some sleep.”

He nodded. “Bear said I could crash on his couch.”

“Be careful driving back there. The roads . . . flooding . . .” She bit her bottom lip.

The narrow hallway was dim, afternoon sunlight shut out by the lack of windows. Despite his exhaustion, the last thing he wanted to do was leave Kate.

And if he was reading her right, the same hazy reluctance clung to her.

“Hey.”

She tilted her head again. “Yeah?”

“Got any Saturday night plans?”

Amused interest joined her grin. “Originally I was supposed to be living it up at Depot Days. Eating cotton candy, taking a train ride.”

He’d almost forgotten the now-abandoned event. “Well, after we both get some sleep, I was thinking, maybe we could go out on the town.”

She stifled her laughter with a glance at Megan’s door. “You do recall half the town is shut down due to the flood. And even if it wasn’t, our options for ‘going out on the town’ are pretty much limited to antique stores—most of which close by five.”

He stepped closer to her. “Oh, you are sorely underestimating Maple Valley’s entertainment potential, Miss Walker. Agree to go out with me, and I promise, I’ll find something fun.”

“Okay, then. It’s a date.”

“All right.”

“All right,” she echoed him.

He started to turn, but she stopped him, grabbing his hand and then standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. And then her voice at his ear. “Thank you, Colton.”

“For?”

“Everything.”

She released his hand and crossed the hall to what was probably the guest room.

“Hey, Kate?” He raised his whisper a notch.

She turned.

He pointed to his cheek where she’d kissed him. “Accident or intentional?”

She only rolled her eyes and disappeared into the bedroom.

16

D
ude, what happened to ‘strictly business’?”

Logan Walker’s halfway-to-accusatory voice carried through the speaker phone of Colton’s cell, propped up on the sink ledge in Bear’s bathroom. Colton buttoned up the pale blue Oxford he’d borrowed from Bear. Everything he wore, down to the socks on his feet, on loan from the guy whose living room had become Colton’s temporary bedroom.

“Uh, you might say it fell by the wayside.” He buttoned the highest button. Thought twice and unbuttoned it. “Can you blame me? Kate’s kind of amazing. And funny and talented and, like, the definition of attractive. Plus, a good kisser.”

“Aghh, man, she’s my sister.”

Colton grinned at himself in the mirror. “Sorry.”
Not.

“If you mess this up, Greene—”

“I won’t.”

“It’s not just me you’d have to deal with. It’s my dad and Beckett and Seth and I’m pretty sure even Raegan would do some damage.”

He lifted the phone and tapped off the speaker. “Speaking of Beckett, I got a text from him an hour ago. Fewer words but basically the same message you’re in the middle of. How’d he get my number? I’ve never even met him.” He left the bathroom
and ambled into Bear’s living room, now crammed with furniture from the coffee shop.

“We’re a tight-knit family. There’s very little we don’t have our fingers in when it comes to each other’s lives.”

“So Raegan gave him my number?” He climbed past a table from Coffee Coffee.

“Probably. Though I wouldn’t put it past Seth, either.”

Colton lowered onto the couch, pulled Bear’s borrowed leather shoes over, paused, and straightened before putting on the shoes. “Logan, so you know, I’m not . . . This isn’t . . . I . . .” Clearly he should’ve slept more than four restless hours this afternoon.

“You’re not playing around,” Logan filled in.