Seaside Reunion (8 page)

“Ready, Jarrod?” Cindy gave Nate a narrow-eyed look and tugged Jarrod closer.

“Yeah.”

At the woman’s protective behavior, Nate rose and held out his hand. If he wanted to have a chance to help the boy, he needed to make a positive impression on the mother. “Nate Garrison. I used to live here.”

“We were friends years ago,” Lindsey added, surprising him with her endorsement. “Nate’s a journalist with the
Chicago Tribune
, here on vacation.”

The woman’s taut posture relaxed, and after a few pleasantries, she and Jarrod exited.

Before Lindsey left to relieve her father at the counter as she usually did after she finished with Jarrod, Nate broached the subject he’d discussed with the boy. She listened, brow furrowed, as he told her about the youngster’s interest in his project.

“Are you really working on a story about children who’ve lost parents?”

“I am now.”

“Why?”

Nate ran his fingers through his hair, then propped his fist on his hip. “You want the truth? I haven’t a clue. The idea just popped out. It’s obvious Jarrod’s still dealing with a lot of issues and a lot of grief. If he finds out he’s not alone, learns how others in his shoes feel and are coping, it might help him heal. I guess I recognized that at some subconscious level.”

“Why do you care about Jarrod’s problems? He’s a stranger to you.”

He shrugged. No use pretending Lindsey hadn’t heard the background he’d shared with Jarrod. “I was in his shoes once. It would have meant a lot to me to have someone step in and try to make things better. Maybe I can do for him what no one ever did for me.”

Lindsey studied him, her features softening. “And maybe you’re not so cynical and jaded after all.”

His neck warmed, and he turned away to retake his seat in front of his laptop. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

She ignored that. “I didn’t know you’d lost your mother. Or been in foster care. I’m sorry.”

Her tone was gentle, soothing him in a way he didn’t deserve. Gritting his teeth, he stared at the geometric screen saver in front of him. “Don’t be. It was my own fault.”

Silence greeted that comment, and when he finally looked up he found Lindsey frowning down at him, her lower lip caught between her teeth.

Uh-oh. She was poised to get into some heavy stuff. And unlike the day of their reunion at The Point, he had no intention of encouraging her. He’d said too much already. “I have a proposition for you. About Jarrod.”

For an instant he thought she was going to forge ahead with whatever questions were forming in her mind. But to his relief, the creases in her brow smoothed and she switched gears. “Okay.”

“If his mother agrees to let him help me on this project, that could take the place of your reading lessons. Since my topic is a subject he’s interested in, it might come easier for him. And I’ll work it out so we know he’s actually doing the reading and comprehending the text.”

Lindsey pursed her lips and folded her arms across her chest. “I suppose it might be worth a try. I’m not getting anywhere with the books I’ve been offering, though most kids his age find them interesting.”

“Most kids his age haven’t lost a parent.”

She conceded his point with a slight lift of one shoulder. “It might work, depending on how long you’re planning to hang around. He wouldn’t progress much in two or three sessions.”

Truth be told, Nate had no idea how long he was going to stay. But he did know he wasn’t close to being ready to go back yet.

“I can commit to two weeks. Beyond that…I’m not certain.”

“Okay. That might be long enough to produce some results. I’ll call Cindy tonight and run the idea by her. We could step up the classes while you’re here, too—if you’re willing. Meet four days a week instead of three.”

“Fine by me.” He pulled a notebook out of his pocket and jotted down a number on a blank page. “Why don’t you call me after you talk to Jarrod’s mother?” He ripped the sheet out and handed it over.

“Lindsey! You want to take over so I can go home and start dinner?” Jack’s voice wafted over the shelving units that defined the coffee nook.

“I’ll be there in a minute.” She fingered the piece of paper. “This is a very nice gesture. Thanks for offering to help.”

The warmth in her eyes reached deep inside him, thawing the chill that had long ago numbed his heart.

“It’s no big deal. And it might not work.”

“You know the old saying, it’s the thought that counts. This one gets high marks.”

With that, she swiveled around to answer her father’s summons.

As she disappeared from view behind the shelves, Nate rested his elbows on the table and linked his fingers. He was glad Lindsey was touched by his gesture. But a story on children losing a parent? What had he gotten himself into?

He had no doubt Clark Gunn, the features editor at the
Tribune
, would be interested in the piece. And it was possible that reading about other children whose parents had died would, indeed, help Jarrod find ways to cope with his loss.

But his gut also warned him he might be opening a can of worms from his own past that was better left undisturbed.

And his gut was rarely wrong.

“How about a second helping of those scalloped potatoes?” Genevieve paused beside Nate’s table and smiled down at him. “You made short work of the first one. And everything else.”

Nate checked out his plate. It was clean enough to bypass the dishwasher, thanks to his diligent efforts to sop up every last speck of gravy with one of Lillian’s melt-in-the-mouth biscuits.

“I can’t keep eating like this. I’ll go home twenty pounds heavier.”

“You could stand to gain a little weight.”

That was true. He’d grown too lean in Afghanistan. But violence and gore had a way of killing a man’s appetite. As did the
memory
of violence and gore. Since arriving in Starfish Bay, though, he’d been scarfing down every meal.

“Maybe. And you and your sister are doing your part. This was the best salisbury steak I ever ate. And the gravy…” He gave a satisfied sigh. “You two should have your own program on Food Network.”

Genevieve beamed at him. “Flattery will get you everywhere. How would you like a piece of blackberry cobbler—on the house?”

Nate patted his stomach. “No room, I’m sorry to say. But I’ll take a rain check.”

“You’ve got it. Does that mean you’ll be staying around a few more days?”

He gave her a sheepish look as he realized he’d only paid through last night. “I decided earlier today to hang around a little longer. Another couple of weeks, at least. Which means I owe you more money.”

The older woman waved his comment aside. “You can settle up when you leave. You must be having fun, if you’re staying longer.”

Fun? Not quite the right word.

“Interesting would be a better way to describe it.” He wiped his lips on his napkin and set the lavender cloth on the table, next to the paper placemat adorned with orchids.

“You’ve certainly been spending a lot of time at the Mercantile.”

“They have Wi-Fi.”

“Not to mention a pretty shopkeeper.” Genevieve grinned. “Lindsey Collier is a real looker, as they used to say in my day. Before compliments like that were deemed politically incorrect.”

Nate did his best to keep the flush on his neck from creeping any higher. “I remember her as a little girl with pigtails.”

“She’s all grown up now.”

No kidding.

“That happens to all of us.” He kept his tone conversational, though his pulse kicked up a notch as he pictured the gentle curve of her lips. “I used to be a skinny kid with smudged glasses.”

“You grew up real fine, too.” She leaned over and adjusted the bud vase that held a single silk orchid. “I hope you won’t think I’m being too personal, but I’ve been wondering if there might be a wife or girlfriend or fiancée somewhere waiting for you.”

Uh-oh. He knew what that gleam in Genevieve’s eyes meant. Time for diversionary tactics.

“No. My job isn’t conducive to any of the above. No one’s waiting for me anywhere, except my boss. Besides, I’m not in the market for romance at this point in my life.”

“Lindsey said the same thing while we were chatting after church yesterday.” Genevieve exhaled and shook her head. “If you ask me, that girl needs to move on. Though I must say the pickings around here were slim until recently.” She aimed a knowing wink in his direction.

Subtlety was clearly not Genevieve’s forte—in decor or diplomacy. Might as well deal with this straight up.

“Genevieve, I’m only going to be here for a couple more weeks. And in case you have any romantic notions about a certain shopkeeper and the stranger in town, you need to know she didn’t even remember me when I showed up at the Mercantile.”

“That was then. This is now. And trust me, you’ve made quite an impression in the past week.”

With a wink and a pat on the shoulder, she bustled off to chat with another customer.

Leaving Nate inexplicably lighter of heart, but also curious.

Just what had she and Lindsey talked about after church?

Chapter Six

L
indsey was impressed.

From the moment she’d turned Jarrod over to Nate in the coffee nook forty minutes ago, the two had been glued to the computer screen. Nate had walked his new assistant through some basic research principles and explained his expectations. Now he was helping him do a few preliminary searches. He’d even put a shortcut to a dictionary on his laptop, and had jotted down instructions for Cindy so she could do the same on their home computer. That way, when Jarrod got stuck, he could look up the word and the pronunciation.

Bottom line, Nate was treating the youngster like an adult colleague, and Jarrod was eating it up.

“He’s good with the boy, isn’t he?”

At her dad’s comment behind her, she flushed. She’d tried to be discreet in her eavesdropping, but nothing much got past her father. “Seems to be. And it’s kind of odd. As far as I know, he’s never worked with children.” She kept her face averted, hoping the heat in her cheeks would subside.

“Dealing with children is a natural skill. You either have it or you don’t. And it takes a generous, selfless heart to do it well, whether you’re a teacher or a parent. From what I’ve been picking up over there,” he gestured to the coffee nook, “Nate’s got the skill and the heart.” Jack checked his watch. “As long as you’re finished working with Jarrod for the day, do you mind if I cut out a little early? I’d like to weed the vegetable garden.”

“No problem. It’s been quiet, anyway.”

“I expect things will pick up if that developer gets his way over at The Point. And he might.”

Lindsey turned to him, furrowing her brow. “What have you been hearing?”

“Pros and cons. Seems to be about a fifty-fifty split. And there are strong opinions on both sides. I have a feeling next week’s meeting will be lively—and standing room only.”

She shoved her fists into the pockets of her jeans. “I wish I could think of some way to convince people it’s the wrong thing to do.”

“Are you sure it is?”

Her mouth dropped open. “How can you ask that? A development like that will ruin The Point!”

His expression gentled. “Not necessarily, Lindy. And it would benefit a lot of people. These are tough times. Even the Mercantile has been suffering for the past few years.”

She knew that. The books didn’t lie. She and her dad were getting by—but it was fortunate their needs were few and they were content with a simple life.

“Are you saying the end justifies the means?”

“You know better. I’m just saying maybe we should give this outfit a fair hearing.”

A burst of laughter from the coffee nook drew her attention, and she glanced over. Jarrod was smiling, and for the first time since his father had died, she saw a spark of genuine joy in the youngster’s eyes.

“Now that’s a real positive sign.” Her father indicated the duo. “Who’d have thought Nate’s return would be a blessing for Jarrod? Interesting how God’s plans manifest themselves. And speaking of the Almighty’s plans, try not to worry about The Point, honey. He has plans for that place, too. I have absolute confidence in that.”

As her father exited and she took her place behind the counter, Lindsey didn’t doubt the truth of his words. She, too, was certain God had plans for The Point.

But she wasn’t at all certain she would agree with them.

“Save me a cookie, okay, Lindsey?” Nate paused on his way out the door, surveying the line of three customers at the counter and the dwindling number of cookies under the dome. “I have to take a call from my editor and cell reception in here is marginal.”

“Sure.” Lindsey waved at him as she tucked the last item in Susan Peroni’s canvas shopping tote.

“Dennis will be sending out the agenda for next week’s meeting by Friday. You’ll be there, I assume.” Susan tugged the bag toward her across the counter.