Violet looked to Lucas, her expression turning shy. Did she recognize him from the hallway last night or had she been too drowsy to take much notice of him then? He pulled a quarter from his pocket and moved to a glass case packed with dried corn, slipped the coin in, and turned the crank.
Jenessa watched as he knelt next to Violet and opened his palm. She cast him another shy smile before plucking a handful of corn from his fingers. He stayed beside her for another minute or two, pointing out his favorite of the goats—a black and white kid less than a month old—and showing her how to scratch between its ears.
When he stood again, he must’ve caught her stare. “What?”
“You’re good with her.” And how had she never noticed before the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled? Were his smiles really that rare?
They shouldn’t be. The one he wore now lit up his sandstone irises.
“Any chance you’d be willing to watch both of them for a minute while I check on Colie?”
“Of course.” He held out his hands and she handed Cade over.
And for a moment both delightful and somehow poignant, she observed their first interaction—Lucas figuring out how to fit the nine-month-old against him, Cade lifting one pudgy hand to touch Lucas’s cheek. “I think something’s happening to me, Lucas.”
“What’s that?”
“These kids, I just . . . I don’t know. Once at lunch today, I looked over at Vi and she was chewing with her mouth open, and for some reason I thought it was the most adorable thing ever. When I laid Cade down for his nap, it took me twenty whole minutes to make myself leave the room. Even Colie—it’s like I can feel the hurt radiating from her and every little thing inside of me longs to wrap her in my arms and promise her I’ll make it better, even though I know I can’t.”
She looked over her shoulder, straining for sight of Colie’s form in the minivan.
“Here the mayor was going on about the house, but all I could think about was this trio that landed in my world for this tiny slice of time. And I wish it would stretch out.” She shrugged. “I know it’s crazy. I have all those boxes to sort. A house to get ready to sell. And the backyard is a whole project on its own. Between the gardens and the destroyed shed and everything, I probably need to hire someone—a handyman? A landscaper?” She met Lucas’s eyes. “But I’m struggling to remember why any of that’s important.”
She wasn’t sure why she was telling him any of this. Nor why his simple, silent response—a dip of his head, a golden glimmer of understanding in his eyes—affected her so. How could he be so comforting without saying a word?
“I’ll be back in a minute.” Hopefully with Colie in tow. She turned.
“Jen, wait.”
His expression had shifted again. He was mulling something now—she could see it. “What?”
“I might’ve just come up with a genius idea.”
Maybe it wasn’t so much genius as an idea born of desperation.
But as Lucas stood outside Noah’s door in the Everwood hallway now, he couldn’t bring himself to regret the impulsive offer he’d made Jenessa an hour ago.
Because even more than he needed to figure out what to do with the guy he’d picked up at the airport earlier today, Lucas craved what his spontaneous idea offered: the chance to be Jenessa Belville’s hero. No matter how small the opportunity.
“You mentioned your yard. The gardens. I’ve actually got landscaping experience—I worked for MV Garden & Turf in high school. And I could have a new shed up for you in no time. I don’t know much about flowers per se, but—”
“No, Luke,” Jenessa had argued. “You’ve already done enough for me.”
“But you’d be doing something for me. There’s this kid I’m supposed to mentor.” Not a kid, really. At twenty-seven, Noah was only five years his junior. But he’d acted like a child when they’d arrived at the Everwood hours ago, escaping to his room and practically slamming the door in Lucas’s face.
But Kit had needed him at Apple Fest, and he’d figured maybe the guy could use some time to adjust to his current circumstances, anyway.
He’d explained his own current circumstances to Jenessa in vague terms. Any other time and she probably would’ve drilled him for more information on Noah. But she’d had her eyes on Violet and likely her mind on Colie.
The more he’d talked, the more he’d realized this might be the perfect solution. Flagg had said to come up with a project, after all. “You’d be doing me a favor if you’d let me take on the yard, with Noah’s help. I’ll probably still help Kit at the orchard on weekends, but she doesn’t really need me on weekdays.”
“I’ll think about it.” But he’d seen the way she’d perked up at the idea. She’d accept, he didn’t doubt it.
So he lifted his fist to knock on Noah’s door now. No response. He knocked again, shrugged, and opened the door.
“Hey, a little privacy might be nice.” Rancor filled Noah’s voice from his slouched spot on his bed.
None of this was going to be easy, that was clear as anything. But at least he had a path forward now. “You get one day, Johansson.”
The younger man’s forehead wrinkled, though his glare was unwavering.
“Do whatever you want tomorrow. Sleep in. Go to church. Take a self-guided tour around town. Whatever. But I want to see you downstairs ready to go Monday morning. That’s when the work starts.”
“What work?”
He ignored the question. “Seven a.m. Don’t be late.”
6
Jenessa didn’t know what she’d expected the social worker from the Department of Human Services to look like, but it wasn’t this: baggy jeans, close-fitting striped top, hoop earrings almost as large as the bangles on both wrists.
Carmen Rodriguez had maybe a couple years on Jenessa, tops.
A sticky, cloying reluctance had clung to her as she’d called the DHS office in Ames at 8:00 a.m. on the dot this morning. Especially after yesterday. She might’ve been in a daze for most of Saturday, but Sunday had been near-perfection. She’d opted to skip church, figuring it might be too much for the kids . . . and for her.
Instead, she’d spent the day channeling Aunt Lauren. Coaxing giggles, indulging whims. Spoiling the kids.
She’d picked up donuts from the bakery the evening before—with sprinkles for Violet. She’d played hide and seek with Vi, taught Cade how to give a high-five, built a fort from blankets and old bed sheets she’d found in the hallway closet upstairs. And in the evening, as they chomped on homemade popcorn and watched Toy Story, she might’ve even caught Colie smiling once or twice.
But any ground she’d gained with the older girl had dissipated when Jenessa had discovered her listening in on this morning’s phone call. Even now, two and a half hours later, Colie’s look of complete betrayal was enough to set her stomach churning all over again.
I had to make the call. It was the right thing to do.
She poured Carmen a second cup of coffee, eyes glued to the scene in the dining room—Carmen with patience etched into every inch of her expression, seated across from Colie. Quiet as ever.