Making His Way Home (6 page)

“The men are supposed to dress in costume, too.”

“I didn’t shave this morning, does that count?” He scrubbed a hand across his jaw.

It counted as one more reason to dive into the coat closet and stay there until Monday afternoon. Because the shadow of whiskers, combined with the spark of humor in Cole’s eyes, only added to his masculine charm.

The trouble was, Grace didn’t
want
to be charmed.

“Believe me, someone will find something for you to wear.” Grace tried to come up with the most terrifying prospect.

“Suspenders. Red, like Marty Sullivan’s.”

“You aren’t trying to scare me off, are you?”

“No.”
Yes.
“I’ll be out in a minute.”

Instead of taking the hint, Cole wandered into the living room. “This is nice. I don’t think I’ve ever been inside your house.”

That’s because he hadn’t wanted to.

Grace had invited him over for dinner, but Cole had always come up with some kind of excuse not to meet her parents. After he’d left town, it had only affirmed the truth. Cole had never planned to continue their relationship. The deep connection she’d felt had been one-sided, and she’d been too naive to recognize the signs.

“I know it looks a little old-fashioned. A lot of the antiques belonged to my grandparents.” Grace traced the tip of her finger across the wooden spine of the chintz sofa. “I haven’t had the heart to change anything. It’s...home.”

Chapter Six

H
ome.

Cole felt a pinch of envy.

For the past twelve years, home had been the cramped, two bedroom trailer tacked onto the back of the hangar. After Cole had graduated from high school, he’d all but begged Cap, his former boss, to rent it out to him and his family.

He’d even offered a list of reasons why it was a good idea. The hangar would have round-the-clock security. He would be available evenings and weekends if Cap had an overnight stay somewhere.

What he hadn’t told his boss was that he’d hoped his mom would feel better if she wasn’t constantly surrounded with reminders of his father. Or that it was easier to keep an eye on his younger siblings—and feed them—if he could pop in for a few minutes between his other duties.

Cap had given in, claiming he could use the extra income, but Cole had a suspicion the retired Air Force pilot had grasped the situation. Shortly after Cole’s family moved in, Cap had given him more responsibilities. Groomed him to take over the charter business when he retired.

Cole had done most of the remodeling himself in the evenings to make the transformation easier on his brothers and sister. He’d painted Bettina’s room her favorite shade of cotton candy pink. Roamed the aisles of local home improvement stores until he found a wallpaper border printed with bright red fire trucks for his brothers. He’d even planted some flowers in the strip of dirt between the building and the driveway.

But no matter how hard he’d tried, there was one thing Cole hadn’t been able to duplicate.

The life they’d had before their dad died.

He walked over to the stone fireplace and looked at the portraits arranged above the mantel. One was an informal photograph of Grace’s entire family, including B.C., that had been taken under an apple tree in the Everseas’ backyard.

His gaze lingered on a photograph of Grace, wearing a white mortarboard with a gold tassel and a knee-length satin gown.

If things had gone the way they’d planned, Cole would have graduated with Mirror Lake’s senior class that day.

He’d thought about calling Grace to congratulate her, but that was the day one of his brothers had cut his foot open on a piece of glass while playing in the parking lot. He’d ended up loading all three of his siblings into the car and driving to the E.R. Three hours and ten stitches later, Cole had realized it was too late to call Grace.

In more ways than one.

Any thoughts of a future together had been officially put to rest that day. There was no way he could leave his family. Not until his mom got better and his siblings were old enough to take care of themselves.

As the days went by, and then the months, Cole had never second-guessed his decision.

Until now.

“Are these your nephews?” He shifted his attention to another photograph.

“My sister Ruth’s children.” Grace smiled. “Cameron is in second grade, and Hunter started kindergarten last fall.” She came to stand beside him and the delicate scent of her perfume teased his senses. “I can’t wait to see them next month. They call every Sunday evening to get a weekly critter update.”

“Critter update?”

“Frogs. Toads. Crickets. Snakes. They want to know what I’ve seen and where.” Grace reached out to straighten the oval frame, but Cole recognized it for what it was. An attempt to hide the tears shimmering in her eyes.

“I’d like to know where you saw the snakes, too,” Cole said, just to see her smile again.

It worked.

“They’re more afraid of you—”

“—than you are of them,” Cole finished. “I think I’ve heard those words before.”

“You might have heard them, but I don’t think you ever
believed
them.”

Grace’s teasing comment should have lightened the moment. Instead, the air became heavy, weighted down by shared memories. Cole tried to blame it on simple nostalgia. The alternative, that time and space hadn’t completely severed the connection that existed between them, was more than a little unsettling.

Grace hadn’t given him any indication that she was prepared to take a trip down memory lane with him.

In fact, given the way she’d tried to let him off the hook for the competition, it didn’t appear that she wanted to go
anywhere
with him.

“I’m surprised your family hasn’t talked you into moving to Boston.” Cole deliberately steered the conversation back to safer ground.

“They’ve tried,” Grace admitted. “Mom drops a few hints about the mild winters and how beautiful the ocean is every time we talk. Dad isn’t quite as subtle.
‘Grace Laurel Eversea. Massachusetts needs social workers, too.
’” She mimicked in a low growl.

Cole picked up a stuffed bear sitting in a rocking chair by the stone fireplace. “No wonder your nephews love to visit you. You even stock the place with toys.”

To his astonishment, color bloomed in Grace’s cheeks and she turned away.

“We should go.” Her voice sounded strained. “The competition starts in half an hour.”

* * *

Grace couldn’t believe how close she’d come to telling Cole, of all people, something she hadn’t even told her closest friends.

Six months ago, she’d filed the necessary paperwork with a private adoption agency and had recently been approved. The director had warned her it could take several years for an adoption to go through, but Grace trusted God’s timing. She would wait and trust that God would bring the right child into her life at the right time.

There were so many children who needed a loving home and nurturing environment. Grace was confident she could provide both.

She’d already started redecorating her sister’s old bedroom on the weekends, refinishing the hardwood floor and painting the walls a soothing shade of green.

Although Grace hadn’t given in to the temptation to purchase a crib, she hadn’t been able to resist picking up several of the cuddly baby blankets the Knit Our Hearts Together ministry had sold at a recent church bazaar. Grace had tucked them away on a shelf in the closet, away from curious eyes. And questions.

She avoided Cole’s gaze as she grabbed the calico bonnet—not quite as offensive as the dreaded corset—from a hook near the front door.

There was something about Cole that had always tempted Grace to confide in him. Even at seventeen he’d had a way of looking at her, a way of listening, that had encouraged her to share her secrets.

A mistake Grace didn’t plan to make again.

“Do you know anyone I can hire to clean Sloan’s house?” Cole held the screen door open. “The outside isn’t the only thing that could use a little attention.”

The glint in his eye told Grace he hadn’t forgotten the comment she’d made in front of Sissy about the property being neglected.

The comment that had made him decide to stay in Mirror Lake and partner with her for the competition.

“I can ask my friend Abby. She hires high school and college students to clean the cabins at the inn during the summer, so she would know who’s reliable.”

“That would be great. I don’t have time to replace the orange shag carpeting or paint the walls, but it will be an improvement if someone can scrape the top layer of dust off everything.” Cole held the screen door open for her. “Sissy Perkins will have to list it as a handyman’s special.”

There wasn’t the least bit of hesitation or anxiety in Cole’s voice when he talked about the sale. It was obvious he was at peace with the decision.

So why did the knot in her stomach tighten as she slipped into the passenger seat of his car?

“Grace?” His voice intruded softly on Grace’s thoughts.

She turned away from the window, which brought her closer to him. So close that she could see a small, crescent-shaped scar in the cleft of Cole’s chin. One that hadn’t been there before.

It should have reminded her again how many years separated the present from the past. How many experiences they hadn’t shared. How she shouldn’t be looking forward to the one ahead.

“What exactly are we doing?”

“I have no idea.” Grace sighed. A split second before she realized that Cole was referring to the competition. “The mayor insisted on keeping the details a secret until we’re ready to start,” she added hastily.

“I thought you were on the planning committee.”

“I am, but this particular event is the mayor’s baby, and he handpicked a group of people to organize it. The volunteers who participated in the box social were kept out of the loop in case our names were drawn.”

“Why the big secret? It isn’t like the competitors would practice the challenges if they knew what they were ahead of time...” Cole stopped when she shot him a look. “No way.”

Dreams of a peaceful ride to clear her thoughts dissolved under the impact of his smile.

“If you were here at Christmas, you would know how competitive people can be,” Grace said. “The mayor had to pass a special ordinance a few years ago, limiting the number of lights people could display in their yards. He claimed Mirror Lake was going to singlehandedly drain the power grid if he didn’t do something.”

“But you must have heard rumors. No one can keep a secret in a small town.”

“I only know what he told us at the dance last night. We’ll be required to complete several ordinary tasks in a certain amount of time.”

“Ordinary tasks,” Cole mused. “That doesn’t sound too difficult.”

“I should have said ordinary for 1887,” Grace muttered. “I watched Eddie Gunderson unload some of his chickens into a pen behind city hall when B.C. and I had our first tour yesterday.”

“Chickens?” Cole repeated, his smile growing wider. “That doesn’t sound too disturbing.”

Grace swallowed hard and turned her attention back to the passing scenery.

It was her heart’s traitorous response to Cole’s presence that Grace found disturbing.

* * *

Cole released a slow breath.

Maybe spending the morning with Grace wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d thought it would be.

After he’d returned to his grandfather’s house the night before, he’d called Iola to break the news that he wouldn’t be returning to work until Monday afternoon. Even though his secretary was constantly after him to take a few days off, the reality was it was difficult with a business as small as Painted Skies. Every minute Cole spent offsite put an additional burden on his dedicated but already overworked crew.

Not only would Virgil have to fill in for the lessons they’d scheduled on Monday morning, but Cole also had a mountain of application forms to sign before he met with the bank on Tuesday.

But Iola had laughed when he’d said he planned to stay in Mirror Lake through the weekend. Not exactly the response he’d been expecting. She’d gone on to explain that both his students had canceled their lessons and rescheduled them for later in the week.

Then she’d tacked on a comment about God’s timing being perfect.

Cole hadn’t been able to argue with that. If Iola hadn’t found Kate’s letter when she did, he might have never found out about the inheritance. It could have taken months, if not years, to put his business expansion plan into motion.

And he wouldn’t have run into Grace by the lake the evening he’d arrived.

Something, of course, he didn’t dare mention to Iola. As often as the woman scolded him about not taking any time off, she scolded him more about the fact that he didn’t have a “social life,” which, in Iola-speak, meant a steady girlfriend.

So, to maintain the peace—
his
peace—all Cole had said was that he needed to fix a few things around his grandfather’s house before he met with the Realtor Monday morning.

“Don’t you dare feel guilty about spending an extra day or two,” Iola had clucked. “You’ll still be working toward your dream.”

That’s right. His dream.

Just in case he forgot the reason he’d returned to Mirror Lake.

It still didn’t stop Cole from sliding a sideways look at Grace. Or tracing the lines of her profile with his eyes. The fringe of sable-brown lashes. The straight little nose. Before he was tempted to linger on the full curve of her bottom lip, Cole wrenched his gaze back on the road where it belonged.

Focus on what’s straight ahead.

He had the feeling it was going to become his mantra over the next few hours. The only reason he’d come back to Mirror Lake was that God had provided an open door. One that would bring him that much closer to fulfilling his dream.

That was the important thing now, not trying to sift through his emotions regarding a certain brown-eyed girl from his past.

Chapter Seven

“T
urn left by the library.”

Grace pointed out the passenger-side window as Cole turned onto Main Street. “We’ll probably have to walk a little ways. It’s going to be hard to find a place to park.”

She was right. Even though it was six-thirty in the morning, he had to drive around the block three times before he found an empty space.

Cole turned the key in the ignition and hopped out of the car. Dew still beaded the grass, but the cloudless sky was the shade of blue that promised a perfect summer day.

Above his head, a tiny glint of silver cut a path through the sky, the jet stream leaving behind a cryptic message in flowing white cursive that only another pilot could appreciate and understand.

On a morning like this, he usually couldn’t wait to climb into the cockpit. Alone. Aim straight toward the clouds and watch everything below him shrink in size. Houses. Cars.

His problems.

Flying was his escape. And in a strange paradox, it was the one thing, other than his faith, that had kept him grounded over the years.

Suddenly, Cole realized that a day like this would only be perfect if Grace were at his side.

“Miss Grace!”

Cole saw a blur as two small children hurtled toward them across the lawn.

Grace immediately dropped to the ground and gathered the boy and girl into her arms. “Are you having fun?”

The younger one, a pixie with wispy blond hair and enormous periwinkle blue eyes, nodded. “Aunt Jenna says we can have ice cream after we watch the fireworks tonight.”

Fireworks?

He glanced at Grace but she avoided his eyes.

“Ice cream sounds like a great idea.” Rising to her feet, Grace settled the little girl on one slim hip.

“Who are you?” The boy attached himself to Grace’s arm and stared up at Cole suspiciously.

“I’m Cole. Grace’s teammate.” He put out his hand and it was taken in a surprisingly firm grip.

“I’m Logan J. Gardner and this is my sister, Tori.”

Cole tamped down a smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Aunt Jenna said she and Dev are going to win the contest today,” Logan informed them. “’Cuz Dev knows how to do all kinds of cool stuff.”

“He’s a wildlife photographer,” Grace explained, “with survival skills.”

“He can start a fire without matches, and he doesn’t burn the marshmallows,” Tori announced.

Grace laughed and planted a kiss on the girl’s plump cheek. “I’m not sure how we can compete with that.”

“Let’s go, Tori.” Logan grabbed his sister by the hand. “Maybe Aunt Jenna will let us play on the swings for a while.”

“Cute kids,” Cole said as they scampered back to a couple standing underneath the branches of one of the oak trees that dotted the park. He recognized the striking, blue-eyed blonde as Jenna McGuire, one of the four women Grace had introduced him to after the box social. The dark-haired man standing next to her had the bronzed, rugged look of someone used to spending time outdoors. “Have you known them a long time?”

Grace hesitated. “I was assigned to the Gardner family last summer, and I met Jenna when she moved to Mirror Lake to take care of the children. She’s their aunt, but she was granted full custody of Logan and Tori because their mother was no longer in a position to care for them. They’re doing great...”

Now.

Cole heard the unspoken word and read between the lines. There’d been a time when that hadn’t been true. Grace might have been Logan and Tori’s caseworker, but the affection he’d seen in her eyes, the way she’d wrapped her arms around them, said what she hadn’t. The children were more than names in a file.

“Your job must be difficult,” he said slowly, trying to reconcile the shy teenager with the woman who deliberately positioned herself in the middle of difficult family situations.

“It can be, but that just comes with the territory.” Grace’s smile, the gleam of passion in her eyes revealed her heart. It was worth it.

Maybe she’d put her plans to have a family of her own on hold because she was as dedicated to her career as he was. Something they had in common...

Whoa.

Cole put the brakes on that thought.

All he and Grace had in common was this crazy competition. They were Couple Number Eight, not a...couple.

No matter what Iola had said about God’s timing.

The truth was, after trying, sometimes unsuccessfully, to keep his twin brothers on the straight and narrow over the years and trying to keep up with the rampant drama in Bettina’s life, Cole was in no hurry to repeat the process.

Not for a long time anyway.

“Five minutes!” The mayor’s familiar bellow echoed through the park.

“That’s our cue!” Kate dashed past, towing Alex Porter by the hand. “See you two at the starting line,” she called over her shoulder. “And don’t forget the bucket they handed out last night at the square dance!”

Cole glanced at Grace. “I don’t remember seeing the bucket.”

Grace closed her eyes.

“That’s because it’s still in the backseat. Of
my
truck.”

* * *

How
could she have forgotten the bucket?

Grace placed the blame right where it belonged. On a handsome distraction named Cole Merrick.

Lord, help me get through the next few hours without losing my mind.

Although at the moment, Grace couldn’t shake the feeling there was something else she should be worried about losing.

Her heart.

The thought left her reeling.

She sensed a subtle change in Cole that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Even before his father’s death, from some of the things Cole had told her, Grace got the impression he’d been what her parents referred to as a “restless soul.” He had admitted that he struggled in school and ran with kids whose favorite extracurricular activity was breaking the rules.

Cole’s rebellion was part of the crushing guilt that had weighed him down. He felt sure he’d disappointed his dad and the fact that he’d never had an opportunity to apologize had only added another layer to his grief.

The first time they’d met, Cole had been all sarcasm and sharp edges. The strained relationship with his grandfather hadn’t done anything to improve his attitude.

As Cole had let his guard down, Grace had caught a glimpse of his heart that hinted at the man he could become if he put aside his guilt and anger.

Looking at the brief interactions they’d recently had, Grace could see that he had become that man.

It was a bittersweet feeling. Knowing she’d been right about him all along...but she hadn’t been there to witness the transformation.

Hadn’t she learned anything from the past?

Even though Cole had changed, he was going to walk out of her life and not look back, the way he had all those years ago.

“Come on, then. It looks like we’ll have to improvise.”

Cole jogged around the back of the vehicle and popped open the hatch. “Let’s see what we’ve got in here.”

Grace’s mouth dropped open as he began to sort through the jumbled contents.

Two collapsible canvas chairs. A baseball bat and glove. Fishing pole. A beach towel—
pink
—with a bikini-clad penguin on the front.

“This is a landfill on wheels,” Cole muttered. “My next vehicle is going to be a convertible. Hold this, please.” He deposited a grass-stained soccer ball into Grace’s hands.

She stared down at it, suddenly weak in the knees.

Did Cole have
children
? He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, but not all men did. It was possible he was divorced.

Once again, the realization they were little more than strangers sliced through her. Time hadn’t stood still, no matter how her heart reacted when Cole cast a smile in her direction.

“This will have to work.” He moved a cooler and pulled something out from underneath a bright red-and-white Badgers stadium blanket.

Grace blinked. “Is that a
minnow
trap?”

“Right now, it’s something that will hold water.” Cole’s lips curved. “Hopefully water we won’t have to drink.”

Grace tried to scrape up a smile in return as she spotted a pair of lime-green flip-flops stuffed in the corner of the trunk.

Not exactly Cole’s color.

“You have...a family?”

“Of course I do.” He sounded surprised by the question. “Two brothers and a sister. You’ve met them.”

For some reason that Grace didn’t want to analyze too closely, relief washed through her. Followed by confusion.

Grace did a silent calculation. The twins, Travis and Sean, would be eighteen by now. Bettina a year older. Cole was nine years older than his siblings. He would have moved out years ago. So why did he have all their paraphernalia in his vehicle?

Cole’s seven-year-old sister and six-year-old twin brothers had tagged after them occasionally that long-ago summer, but Grace couldn’t remember much about them. Cole had once confided that his mother had suffered several miscarriages in the years that separated him and his sister and brothers. It was one of many secrets he’d entrusted her with over the course of the summer.

Which made his abrupt departure a few weeks later even more difficult to understand.

Don’t go there,
Grace silently chided herself.

Nothing in Cole’s behavior hinted that he’d given her more than a passing thought over the years. Or that he was interested in anything more than making up for the muddle he’d unwittingly created when he bid on her basket.

“I’ve been looking for this for months.” Shaking his head, Cole draped a lightweight nylon jacket over the soccer ball cradled in Grace’s arms. “Bettina must have borrowed it. She’s notorious for rearranging things. Furniture. Important files. She took my secretary’s place for a week and somehow managed to turn the office upside down. Iola found Kate’s letter a few days ago. Bettina had filed it under the letter
Q
.”

“Q—” Grace smiled as understanding dawned. “Because one hundred and twenty-five years is a quasquicentennial.”

“Right.” Affection, not frustration, flowed below the word.

Grace took a moment to absorb the ramifications of what she’d just learned. She wasn’t sure what surprised her more. Discovering that Bettina—the precocious little girl with freckles and Pippy Longstocking braids—had taken over for Cole’s secretary.

Or that Cole
had
a secretary.

Grace found she could no longer contain her curiosity.

“What do you do for a living?”

“I run a private air charter service near Madison.”

Grace forgot she’d made a vow to play it cool. Forgot she was determined to pretend they’d never been anything more than friends. She reached out and squeezed his hand.

“You’re a
pilot
. Cole...I knew you could do it.”

His fingers instantly closed around hers, forming a warm cage she realized she had no desire to escape.

“When did you get your license?” Grace swallowed hard and pretended she didn’t feel the sparks of electricity that shot down her arm.

“When I was twenty.” Cole’s lips tipped in a wry smile. “Painted Skies is a small operation, but it looks like I’ll be able to expand the business this year.”

Grace heard a rushing sound in her ears as another memory crashed over her.

They were sitting on the rock, side by side, watching the clouds drift by.

That’s what I want to do someday,
Cole had told her.
I want to fly planes.

So do it.

Even without closing her eyes, Grace could see the expression on Cole’s face, hope and doubt battling for control.

You make it sound so easy.

Maybe you’re making it too difficult,
Grace had countered.
I happen to think you can accomplish anything you set your mind to.

Cole had searched her face, and Grace hadn’t wanted to look away that time because she wanted him to see the truth in her eyes. But that wasn’t all he must have seen. Because he’d smiled and pulled her into his arms. And whispered that he loved her....

With a start, Grace realized Cole was still holding her hand.

And they were starting to attract attention.

* * *

Cole watched the sparkle fade from Grace’s eyes as she tugged her hand free. Her expression smoothed over like the lake on a windless summer evening.

“I’m glad your dreams came true,” she said quietly.

Not all of them.

The thought sprang into Cole’s mind. At one time, being with Grace had been part of those dreams.

What would Grace say if he told her that
she’d
been his inspiration for pursuing his goal of becoming a pilot? Even before his father’s death, he’d been flying blind, without a clear destination in mind.

Grace was the one who’d challenged him to think about the future. Encouraged him to turn what most people would have considered an impossible dream into a reality.

He’d never had the opportunity to tell her how much it had meant to him, though.

“Grace—”

“Okay, everyone! Gather around!” Mayor Dodd interrupted, his voice carrying across the park without the aid of a microphone. “I’m sure you’re all anxious to get started.”

The women whose names had been called the night before, along with their escorts, broke away from the group of spectators and formed a line in front of the mayor. Cole thought he heard Grace sigh as she stepped forward to join them. The couples shifted to make room and he and Grace were sandwiched between Kate and Alex Porter and Esther and Daniel Redstone, the couple who’d offered their barn for the square dance.

Mayor Dodd hooked his thumbs in his suspenders and paced down the row, his narrowed gaze sweeping over the competitors with the same intensity a military commander would eye a group of new recruits.

“My lovely wife, Rhoda, will be walking by in a few moments with a basket to collect all the little gizmos and gadgets you
won’t
be needing today. None of the early settlers had iPods, iPads or iPhones. During the course of our competition, couples are not allowed to possess—or use—anything that didn’t exist in 1887.”