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Hometown Reunion
Pam Andrews








“I should have told you about Mandy,” Scott said.


“Why didn’t you?” Lori said.

“I don’t know. It’s hard to talk about her, especially when Joey is listening.”

“I’m sorry you lost someone you loved.”

“I don’t want sympathy. I mean, it was more than three years ago. My son and I have moved on.”

Scott wondered if she could ever understand. It was tempting to pour out all his feelings. Lori was the best listener he’d ever known, but sometimes words weren’t enough.

Joey yelled out to him, and Scott followed Lori to the edge of the sandbox. Scott bent down to brush some sand off his son’s hair. Lori said goodbye to them and started walking home alone.

He watched her disappear from sight. Every instinct urged him to go after her, but even if he caught up, what then? He had nothing to offer her. He’d loved her once, or so he thought. Could they even think about a future together?


PAM ANDREWS

is the mother-daughter writing team of Pam Hanson and Barbara Andrews. Barbara makes her home with Pam and her family in Nebraska. They have written numerous books for such publishers as Steeple Hill Books and Guideposts. Pam’s background is in journalism, and she and her college-professor husband have two sons. Barbara, the mother of four and grandmother of seven, also writes articles and a column about collectible postcards.




Hometown Reunion

Pam Andrews







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


After all, every house is built by someone,

but God is the builder of everything.

—Hebrews 3:4


To friends, near and far.




Contents


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Questions for Discussion




Chapter One


Scott Mara started walking toward his pickup, holding the small, damp hand of his four-year-old son, Joey. He was about to open the door and boost him up to his car seat when he caught a glimpse of a woman walking toward him on the sidewalk. At first he paid no attention, anxious to finish his errands and get to Joey’s dental appointment. As a single father, he was hard-pressed to keep up with all his son’s needs, especially those that kept him from work, but he was a little worried about one of Joey’s baby teeth, wondering if it should be pulled to make room for the new one bulging in his jaw.

The woman had to be a stranger in town. He had lived in Apple Grove, Iowa, all his life and knew everyone by sight, if not by name. Still, there was something familiar about her. Maybe his eyes were playing tricks, because she reminded him of someone he’d known a long time ago.

She started to cross the street, and he impulsively scooped up his son to cut her off on the other side. It was unlikely that Lori Raymond was back in town, but his curiosity got the best of him.

“Daddy, I can walk,” Joey noisily protested.

“Sure you can,” he said, depositing him on the sidewalk a few yards in front of the woman.

“Scott!”

It was a voice that made his spine tingle.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” she said.

He pulled off his straw Western-style hat and kept one hand on Joey’s shoulder so he wouldn’t wander off.

“Lori, I’m surprised to see you here.”

“I’m visiting my aunt.”

“Of course,” he said, feeling awkward because he hadn’t immediately connected her to Bess Raymond.

“How’ve you been?” she asked.

It was the kind of casual question people asked each other all the time, but coming from her, it made him want to answer honestly.

Instead he said, “Fine. How about you?”

“Good, although I’ve gotten myself in something of a predicament.”

“Oh?”

Joey was squirming. Scott knew that he should cut the conversation short and get to the dentist, but Lori used to be his favorite person to talk to.

“Aunt Bess has drafted me to help restart the Highway Café. I keep telling her that I won’t be here long, but you know how she is.”

She still had the same mischievous little grin, and when she looked up at him, he remembered how she’d always made him feel better about himself.

“I sure do.” He smiled, recalling how his favorite teacher, Lori’s aunt, could put him in his place when he deserved it. “You’re on vacation from your job?” He knew it was none of his business, but he’d often wondered what had become of her after high school, if she’d gotten married, had a family.

“Afraid not. I came to a parting of the ways with the head chef at the restaurant where I was working. I’ve been offered a job in a new restaurant that’s opening after Labor Day, if I decide to go back to Chicago. What about you? I saw you coming out of the hardware store. You always did like building things. Are you doing it for a living now?”

“Daddy!”

“Sorry, I’m forgetting my manners. This is my son, Joey. Joey, this is Miss Raymond—it is still Miss, isn’t it?”

She bent and offered her hand to his son. Much to his father’s satisfaction, Joey responded with grave courtesy.

“I’m so happy to meet you, Joey. You can call me Lori.” She smiled and straightened. “And it is still Miss.”

He wanted to say that the men in Chicago must be blind to let her slip away, but he squelched the impulse. It had been nearly ten years since he’d last seen her. He remembered her question and gave the shortest possible answer.

“I have my own contracting business, but most of the time, I’m the only employee.”

“Somehow I didn’t expect…”

She trailed off, uncertain how much she should say, but he could guess. She hadn’t expected him to stay in Apple Grove.

Some things were best left unsaid.

“You look good, Lori.” It sounded lame, but it was all he could think of saying.

What a feeble compliment, he thought. She looked terrific. Her dark brown eyes sparkled. Her cheeks were rosy, and her thick chestnut curls were spilling out of a ponytail, the way they had in high school. He’d been a fool not to tell her how he’d felt about her back then, but the gulf between them had been too wide. He didn’t want to think about how different his life might be if he hadn’t been constrained by her strong faith, one he couldn’t share.

“Daddy, we’re going to be late!”

Joey impatiently tugged on his pant leg. If there was one thing his son hated, it was being late.

“We’re on our way to the dentist,” Scott explained. “It’s been nice seeing you, Lori. I hope you enjoy your time here.”

“Thanks, Scott. It is good to be back.”

As soon as Joey was settled into his car seat, Scott started thinking of all the questions he should have asked. But maybe it was for the best. He and Lori had taken different forks in the road. He had too much on his plate to torment himself with what might have been.



Lori spent the time before her aunt came home from school organizing the cheerful second-floor bedroom that had always been her home away from home, but her mind wasn’t on the task of unpacking. She’d been so surprised at seeing Scott again that she hadn’t asked any of the things she wanted to know. Had he married someone she knew? Did they have other children? Why did Scott decide to stay in Apple Grove? Surely he could have found better opportunities in a larger town.

She couldn’t get him out of her mind as she filled drawers lined with tissue paper and hung the rest of her clothes in the closet. He’d never been what high school girls called cute, but his clear blue eyes and high cheekbones made his face memorable. Now, at twenty-nine, two years older than her, he had a brooding quality that made her want to know if everything was well with him.

She went through her unpacking absentmindedly, her thoughts focused on the brief meeting with Scott. It didn’t take her long to finish, since she’d never been a person to accumulate a lot of possessions or a large wardrobe. She’d brought her chef’s knives, still in the trunk of her car, and a good supply of work clothes, but it hadn’t been worthwhile to move her well-worn secondhand furniture from the suburban Chicago apartment she’d been sharing with a friend. She’d offered first choice to her recently married ex-roommate and donated the rest to a charity shop.

When she’d done all that could be done, she sat on the edge of the bed and caught a glimpse of her image in the full-length gilt-framed mirror mounted on the wall. The face that looked back at her was weary. Her dark brown eyes were shadowed, and her chestnut mane had grown into an untamed mass of curls. She hadn’t bothered with makeup since that awful day when she’d rashly walked out of Arcadia, the posh Chicago restaurant where she’d been working.

Maybe she’d set her sights too high, but she’d been thrilled when she was hired by Gardner Knolls as an apprentice chef at one of his three Windy City restaurants. She’d expected to start at the bottom, and that meant doing all the menial chores, from chopping vegetables to taking inventory in the freezer.

The trouble was, she’d started at the bottom and stayed at the bottom, while chefs with less talent were regularly promoted. When Adrian, a klutzy young man of meager talent and four years her junior, was given charge of the luncheon service, she realized that the head chef would never let her realize her potential. He had trained in Paris and looked down his nose at her small town Iowa origins, sneering at her for winning county-fair blue ribbons.

She didn’t regret quitting on the spot, but now the question was, should she say yes to the job offer she had? It might be hard to find anything better since she wasn’t likely to get a good reference after walking out without giving notice. But could she afford to stay in Chicago without a roommate to share expenses?

Lori wanted to consider the new job offer calmly and logically, but it was her nature to crave the rush of excitement that came with being pushed to the maximum. It was what she loved most about being a chef, creating wonderful dishes under pressure. She felt at loose ends, and neither her aunt nor her parents could help her find her way. Only the Lord could give her the guidance she so badly needed.

“Dear Lord,” she prayed, sitting on the edge of the bed, with her head bowed, “help me to forgive those who have wronged me and to accept responsibility for my own bad decisions. Please show me a way to serve You and use the talents You’ve given me. I thank You for having so richly blessed my life.”

She squeezed her hands together, willing herself to find forgiveness in her heart for the way the head chef had treated her, but it was exceedingly hard. There was a void in her heart, and she’d let it fill up with anger.

Maybe a short stay in Apple Grove would give her time to put things in perspective. She needed to recover not only her self-confidence but her commitment to excel in her career. She loved making people happy with cuisine that was not only wonderful tasting but good for them, as well.

Her thoughts strayed to her chance meeting with Scott. No one had been more eager to leave town than he had, yet he’d stayed and was raising a son here. Sometimes life was a puzzle, and she didn’t begin to have all the answers.



By the time Aunt Bess got home from school, Lori had showered and dressed in white walking shorts and a bright peach tank top. It was warm for May, and she was glad to change out of her jeans and polo shirt.

“My, don’t you look sweet,” Bess said when she saw her niece. “But you didn’t need to change for Carl and me.”

“Carl?”

“Oh, I’ve been so excited about you being here, I forgot to tell you. We’re meeting Carl Mitchell at the café after dinner to go over some things that need doing. He promised the electricity would be on by then. Guess we should be able to rely on him since he worked for the power company for forty-two years before he retired. Now he has plenty of free time to help get the café back on track.”

“So he’s one of the twenty-four people who bought the café?”

It boggled her mind that so many people had banded together to reopen the Highway Café after it had been closed for over a year. When it looked as if no one would buy it, her aunt had spearheaded a campaign to have a committee buy it. The town was suffering without a place where people could congregate and get a good meal.

“Him, me and twenty-two others,” her aunt said with a soft chuckle. “But don’t worry. None of us know beans about running a restaurant. We’ll do things your way.”

“I hope you’ve told your committee that I’ll only be here a little while, just long enough to get things started and help you hire permanent help.”

“I haven’t told them yet, but I’ll be sure to mention it at our next meeting,” Bess promised. “Now, I have two TV dinners. Would you like turkey with stuffing or roast beef with mashed potatoes?”

Lori quietly sighed at her aunt’s comment about not telling the committee yet, but she didn’t say anything about it.

“Either is fine. I’ll put them in the microwave for you.”

The last time her aunt had tried to cook frozen dinners, she’d mistakenly used the regular oven directions and microwaved an entrée to the consistency of shoe leather.

“Would you mind? I’ll just slip into some old clothes. Last time I was there, I couldn’t help but notice how dusty the café is, but don’t worry about the dirt. We have lots of volunteers for the cleanup.”

Her aunt soon returned, her rust-colored, gray-streaked hair covered by a little flowered bandana. She was wearing faded jeans and a yellow-and-brown striped smock that went nearly to her knees, a drastic change from the sedate navy, forest-green and burgundy dresses she favored for teaching.

Lori made a show of eating some of the bland turkey dinner, but she needn’t have bothered. Bess was so excited about the café that she scarcely noticed her niece’s lack of appetite.

Bess still lived in the yellow frame house on Second Avenue that she’d inherited from her parents. From the front porch, Lori could get a glimpse of the church steeple, and it brought back happy memories of Sunday school, church picnics and the fellowship of the congregation. She was looking forward to meeting the new minister on Sunday, although she regretted that Reverend Green wouldn’t be there. He’d finally taken a much-deserved retirement.

“I saw Scott Mara when I took a walk around town,” Lori said, trying to sound casual.

“Scott was such a little rascal when he was in my class,” Bess said as she bustled around the kitchen, cleaning up their hasty dinner. “He was always the town bad boy, but he had a sweet nature for all that. Oh, dear, we’d better hurry. Carl will be waiting for us.”

They elected to walk since it was only a few blocks, crossing Beech Street and approaching the café from the rear. The back door was padlocked, forcing them to cut between buildings to the Main Street entrance.

“Oh, good! The lights are on,” Bess said. “Now you can get a better idea of what needs to be done.”

A faded blue pickup like the one Scott had driven was parked at an angle in front of the café. Of course, there were probably a hundred like it in the county, but she couldn’t help wondering whether she would see him again while she was in town.

“Come on in, ladies.” A portly man with a white beard and a matching mane of hair opened the front door and motioned them inside.

“This is my niece,” Bess said. “Lori, Carl Mitchell is the man who’s going to help us put this place in order.”

“Not by myself, I’m not,” he said, with a belly-shaking laugh. “That’s why Scott is here.”

Carl gestured at the man who was stooped down, examining the front of the lunch counter, with a small boy beside him. He slowly rose, straightening to his full six feet two inches, exactly ten inches taller than Lori. It was easier for her to remember this than to look directly into his eyes.

“Scott, this is Bessie’s niece—”

Scott nodded. “Yes, I saw Lori in town earlier.”

“Scott, I didn’t expect to see you here.” Lori’s voice didn’t sound as though it belonged to her.

“Oh, you two know each other,” Carl said. “Splendid, since you’ll be working together until we get this place fixed up.”

“Scott runs his own construction company,” Bess said. “He did some wonderful work at the school, so I know he’ll take care of everything that needs doing around here.”

“Hi, Lori,” Joey said.

Lori was enchanted when the little boy remembered her name and offered his hand for a very adult shake.

“Lori has agreed to be our chief cook and manager,” Bess said.

“Only until the café is up and running,” Lori added so quickly that the words came out sounding breathless.

“I’d like to say that the place will be ready for business in a few weeks, but from what I’ve seen so far, there’s quite a bit to be done to get it up to code,” Scott said. “I’m going to have to rip out the wainscoting to see what’s underneath, and that window will fall out of the frame if someone blows hard.”

“You’re making it sound expensive,” Carl said, his laugh not quite so hearty now.

“I’ll give you the best deal I can,” Scott said, speaking to the older man but looking in Lori’s direction. “First, I’ll have to check out the basement and roof, but it’s the kitchen that really worries me. I don’t know how they ever got a gas range that big and heavy into the place.”

“Old Amos Conklin was real proud of that monstrosity,” Carl said, talking about the café’s longtime owner. “Wouldn’t surprise me if he took out the front window to get it in.”

“Yeah, that would work since you’ve got double swinging doors going into the kitchen. If it were up to me, though, I’d sell it for scrap metal.” Scott shook his head, and his eyes met Lori’s. “How does that sound to you?” he asked her.

Lori looked around the dusky interior of the old kitchen with misgivings. The café had been in the same family for three generations, and the gas range looked to be as old as the original owner.

“It’s not a decision I can make,” she said tactfully. “I’m only temporary help.”

“Of course, you can, Lori. You know much more about running a kitchen than anyone on the committee,” her aunt said.

“I think I can speak for everyone,” Carl said. “Whatever works for you is fine with us. We planned on making some big improvements when we pooled our money to buy it. We’re hoping you’ll work with Scott on this.”

“I really don’t know anything about renovations,” Lori replied.

“Maybe not, but you know how a restaurant should be. I think it’s a splendid idea for you to consult with Scott,” Bess said.

“Splendid,” Lori repeated in an unsure voice.

“I can’t do anything until Monday,” Scott said. “I have to finish a wheelchair ramp this weekend so the home owner can come home from a nursing home. Why don’t you meet me here Monday morning, after I drop Joey off at day care. Make it about eight-fifteen.”

Scott scooped up his son, said his goodbyes and headed for the door.

Her aunt beamed, Carl smiled benevolently and Lori felt as if she’d just stepped into quicksand. She wanted to do this favor for her aunt as quickly as possible and get on with her life somewhere else. Scott was the one person in Apple Grove who could awaken old feelings and complicate her life.

What had she gotten herself into?




Chapter Two


Anyone who thought small-town life was too quiet should follow Aunt Bess around for a day, Lori thought.

She was pretending to read a book she’d borrowed from her aunt’s bookcase, but the words were a meaningless jumble as she thought about the prospect of working with Scott.

“Just one more phone call,” Bess called out from the kitchen. “Then we’ll have a little chat before bed.”

Lori knew that her aunt was eager to hear all the details about her departure from the job in Chicago, but she wasn’t ready to release all the pain bottled up inside of her. Bess would see her point of view and envelop her in sympathy. She would counsel her to put her faith in the Lord and would tell her everything would work out for the best. Lori wholeheartedly wanted to believe that, but she wasn’t ready to share her frustration and loss of confidence, not even with her dear aunt.

“I know you and Scott will work well together,” Bess said, plopping down in her recliner and using her toes to kick off her sandals. “I remember how you always dropped by when he was scheduled to cut my grass. When you were here, he took double the time to do my yard. Seeing as how you both had such big crushes, I was surprised that you never dated.”

Lori blushed. Had she and Scott been so transparent with their feelings back then?

“Well, it looks like you could use a good night’s sleep,” Bess said. “I hate to admit it, but I’m worn to a frazzle, what with the field trip my class is planning and all the business with the café. I think I’ll go to bed. Is there anything you need?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Well, I’ll say good-night, then. I’m so happy the Lord has brought you home to Apple Grove.”

“I’m grateful to be here. Thank you for taking me in.”

“As if I don’t love you like a daughter,” her aunt said, giving her a hug.

For a few moments after Bess left the room, Lori basked in the warmth of her aunt’s love. She adored Bess, and she hated the thought of disappointing her when it came time to leave.



Monday morning Scott gave Joey’s face a quick once-over with the washcloth, satisfied that his milk mustache and the stray bits of oatmeal were gone. He might only be imagining it, but the women at the day care seemed to inspect his son with eagle eyes whenever Scott dropped him off. They didn’t seem to trust a single father to keep his child neat and clean. It wasn’t easy, but he loved Joey, and would do all he could to raise him right.

“Can I take my yo-yo?”

“Better not. We’ll have another lesson after supper.”

Joey was showing amazing dexterity with his hands, and Scott was proud that his son was taking after him that way, if not in appearance. He had pale blond hair and bright blue eyes, not unlike Scott’s in childhood, but his heart-shaped face was nothing like his father’s. Scott could still see Mandy’s face etched on their son’s.

“I hope we don’t have that soup with things in it,” Joey said as he followed his father to the pickup. “I hate vegables.”

“Vegetables,” Scott corrected absentmindedly. “Climb up, big guy.”

It was a short drive from the trailer park to the day-care center. He’d tried leaving Joey with a neighbor, but the woman had been more interested in her three poodles than his son. When he’d learned that Joey hardly ever got to play outside, he’d immediately enrolled him in group care. It was more expensive, something he could barely afford since his business gave him a decent living but not much for extras.

He parked in front of the neat brick house and went around to the back entrance that led to the lower level, which had been converted into space for preschool children.

As usual, one of the helpers gave Joey a warm welcome when they went inside and immediately steered him to a play station.

“Did you bring the form for our trip to the farm?” Betty Drummond, the head caregiver, asked Scott.

He’d flunked parenthood again. The pink slip of paper was at home, on the kitchen counter.

“Would it be all right if I drop it off when I pick Joey up?”

Betty had a round, friendly face framed by fluffy silver hair, but her silence told him that it wasn’t all right.

“The children are really looking forward to their trip to the farm,” she said.

“I’ll run home and get it,” he said, wondering why she didn’t have an extra form he could sign there. Surely he wasn’t the only parent who ever forgot.

“I’d appreciate it,” Betty said cordially enough, although no doubt her thoughts weren’t as understanding as her voice. Didn’t moms ever make mistakes?

He returned to the aging white-and-green trailer he called home and hurriedly filled in the blanks on the field-trip form. He couldn’t fault the day care for wanting a doctor’s name and an emergency number, but the closest person he had as a contact person was his sister, Doreen, and she lived nearly forty miles away.

His parents were even farther away, since his father had had to move west to Omaha to find a job when Apple Grove’s only plant had closed. He’d worked his way up to foreman of the milk-processing facility, and it had been a blow to lose the only employer he’d ever had as an adult. Now his dad was counting the months until he could afford to retire from a tedious night watchman job.

All the friends he and Mandy had had as a couple had dropped out of sight, too. Most likely it was his fault. Taking care of Joey and trying to make a living took all his time and energy.

By the time he delivered the permission form, he was late for his appointment at the old café. He’d made a few rough sketches and done some estimates to show the committee, but he had a lot more work to do before he could make a final bid for the project. He never would’ve dreamed he’d be working with Lori Raymond. He still marveled that she was back in Apple Grove.

He drove the short distance to Main Street and parked in front of the café. Ten years ago he would have done anything for a chance to be alone with Lori, but she’d been a good girl in every sense of the word. Everything she’d said and done had sent him a message: She wouldn’t have anything to do with a wild kid who didn’t embrace churchgoing.

He felt differently about a lot of things now, even taking Joey to Sunday school every week, but he still didn’t feel comfortable in church or feel God played a part in his life. He’d had to grow up fast when Mandy died, but part of him still felt like the rebellious outcast. The town accepted him for his construction skills, but he never felt like he belonged.

The lights showed dimly through the filthy front window, so he guessed Lori was in the café, waiting for him. He couldn’t believe it, but he actually felt a little nervous about seeing her again.



Scott was late.

Lori hoped nothing was wrong and knew it was her own worries about her future that were making her impatient. She certainly didn’t want to get off to a bad start with Scott by mentioning his tardiness. The sooner he could get the café ready to open, the sooner she could leave to take a permanent job.

“Hello!”

She heard him calling from the front and went out to meet him.

“Good morning,” she said, surprised that she felt a little breathless seeing him again.

“Sorry I’m late.” He didn’t explain why.

“I was just looking around. It looks worse in the daylight.”

He laughed. “I think they’d be better off building a new place on the outskirts of town, but that isn’t what they want.”

“No, my aunt made it plain that they’re hoping to revive Main Street.”

“I thought they’d have trouble getting a cook. A lot of the people who used to live here are gone.”

“But you’re still here,” she blurted out, immediately wishing she could take the words back.

She’d vowed to avoid personal comments. After all, Scott didn’t know that she’d lived for a glimpse of him all through high school. Whenever he had spoken to her, she’d recorded every word he’d said in her diary. But she wasn’t a teenager with a crush anymore, and she didn’t expect them to be more than casual acquaintances in the short time she’d be in town.

“Fate is funny sometimes,” he said, looking around the dining area, with a little frown. “Do you want to keep the lunch counter or tear it out for more table room?”

“I don’t have a strong opinion either way. I’m more interested in the kitchen,” she said. Talking about the café renovations was much safer than dwelling on the past.

“I have a feeling the committee wants things just the way they’ve always been.”

“You’re probably right. My aunt hasn’t talked to me about finances, but she seems to think a few nails and a little cleaning will make it as good as new.”

He laughed softly and took off the battered cowboy hat. His hair was a darker blond than she remembered, and tiny wrinkle lines radiated from the corners of his serious blue eyes. Still, ten years had made him even more handsome, and she imagined that he was a favorite with all the women in town.

“I have to check out the cellar and the roof, and I’ll take a look at the wiring and plumbing. Hopefully, I won’t find anything really bad, but the pharmacy down the street was riddled with termites a few years back. I had to shore up the whole building after the exterminators were done. I’m hoping that won’t be necessary here, but this building is about a hundred years old.”

“That doesn’t sound good.” She exhaled slowly and realized she’d been holding her breath.

“I wish they would’ve called me to do an inspection before they bought the building. Most buyers have one before they agree to a sale, but the folks here were too eager to restart the café.”

“That would be my aunt,” she said, with a little laugh. “I have a feeling she spearheaded the whole idea.”

“Where do you want to start?”

“Oh.” She was a bit surprised that he wanted her to give directions. “The kitchen, I guess.”

“Thought any more about junking that monstrosity?”

“The range? I guess it depends on whether the committee wants to buy a new one.”

The kitchen seemed even smaller with Scott taking up much of the room between the huge range and the work counter.

“My aunt has plenty of volunteers for the cleanup. I imagine they can haul away the debris and such.”

He nodded absentmindedly. “It’s an awkward setup, the waitress having to come through the swinging doors to deliver the food. You could take down part of this wall to make a pass-through for orders.”

“That sounds expensive, tearing out a wall.”

“The whole place needs new wallboard. That knotty pine wainscoting has to go, not to mention that the wallpaper above it is filthy and peeling off. I’ve no idea what I’ll find when I’ve stripped it.”

“I don’t think the fridge is working,” she said, remembering one of her big concerns. “It was turned on when the electricity came on last night, but it’s still warm inside.”

He only grunted. “Let’s take a look at the cellar.”

Did he mean for her to go down there with him? She’d never liked cellars, and she was afraid this one would be particularly creepy.

“I’m not so sure about this,” she weakly protested.

“Follow me, and hang on to the railing. I don’t trust these old steps.”

He stepped through a door and felt with his hand for a light switch. When the light at the bottom of the steps went on, he still needed his flashlight. The single weak bulb dangling from a cord did little to illuminate the low-ceilinged cellar.

“Watch your head,” he called back, stooping to avoid hitting his.

Lori crept close to him, relieved that at least she could stand upright.

“They never threw anything away,” Scott said, sounding surprised as his light played over the shelves lining every wall. “Look at those tins. I bet that peanut butter pail is almost as old as the building.”

Her curiosity made her forget how much she hated cellars. Apparently generations of the Conklin family hadn’t believed in throwing anything away. She pointed at a red metal box.

“What on earth is that?”

“Probably a dispenser,” he replied. “I imagine it sat on the lunch counter so a customer could put in a penny and get a box of matches.”

“Look. Glass ketchup bottles. The labels are still on.”

“At least they washed them,” Scott said, without enthusiasm.

He was creeping around in the darkest corners at the far end of the cellar, moving his light over a foundation made of stones cemented together. She’d had enough.

“I’m going upstairs,” she called out.

One thing he could put on his list was a new stairway with a railing that didn’t shake when she touched it. But then, it was unlikely she’d be going down here very often. She would find other places to store supplies, even if they had to hang from the ceiling.

Scott was gone so long, she began to wonder whether she should call down or, worse, go looking for him. When he did emerge, his hands were black with grime.

“Do you mind if I wash up?” he asked.

“No, and by the way, you have a spiderweb in your hair.”

She reached up and attempted to pull it away; she was sorry about her impulsive gesture when he looked at her with surprise. The nasty little strands stuck to her fingers, reminding her of how much she didn’t like spiders. And how much she had liked Scott.

When he brought an extension ladder from his truck and propped it against the building, she elected not to follow him up to the roof. Whatever he found, she would have to take it on trust.

Aunt Bess and her committee must think highly of Scott, she decided, because he was the only one giving them an estimate on the work. Of course, her aunt thought the best of everyone.

The aluminum ladder was probably stronger than it looked, but it wobbled as Scott climbed up. He disappeared from sight for what seemed like a long time, and when he threw his leg over to climb down, she was even more nervous for him. She automatically said a prayer that he would get to the ground safely, then wondered whether he would scoff at her if he knew. The boy she’d been head over heels for seemed less cynical as an adult, but Lori wasn’t sure.

“Bad news and good news,” he said when he got to the ground. “The roof was tarred fairly recently. I think it’s good for now, but the chimney needs some work.”

“Can you do that, too?” she asked, wondering what the extent of his skill was.

“I can repair it, but I recommend a professional cleaning. The furnace was converted from coal. I suspect they may once have burned trash in it, too.”

They’d burned coal? She had never known anyone who had a coal furnace. She was beginning to realize what a tremendous responsibility her aunt and the committee had undertaken in buying such an old building.

She didn’t try to oversee the rest of his inspection. Some things she could see for herself: the poor layout of the kitchen, the shabby condition of the linoleum flooring throughout the building, the urgent need to repaint the old-fashioned tin ceiling and the peeling surfaces of chairs that had probably been painted half a dozen different colors over the years.

“Wow,” she said, more to herself than to him.

If it was God’s plan to give her a tremendous challenge, He’d brought her to the right place. She would give it her all, but she still fervently hoped that she could accomplish what was needed and get on with her life as soon as possible.

After what seemed like hours of peeking, poking and probing, Scott sat across from her at one of the dusty tables.

“It will take me a while to work out everything that’s needed and give you an estimate,” he said, still writing figures on a pad.

“I understand.”

He was all business, and she missed the easy friendship they’d had many years ago. She wanted to ask him about his life. Was he happy? Where was his wife? He’d yet to mention her, and she didn’t want to pry. She didn’t know where he lived or why he seemed to take sole responsibility for Joey. But nothing he said or did invited the kind of confidences they’d once shared.

When he’d said everything there was to say about the renovation, he slipped his notepad into the back pocket of his jeans and retrieved his hat.

He turned at the doorway with a twinkle in his eyes that she hadn’t seen in a long time.

“When you cook, do you wear one of those chef’s hats?” He sketched a tall shape in the air with his hands.

“It depends on where I’m working.”

“Here, for instance.”

“I suppose I could. Why do you ask?” She eyed him quizzically.

“Just wondering how you’d look in a starchy white getup.”

He grinned and was gone.




Chapter Three


Lori punched in numbers on her cell phone, looking forward to a long chat with her best friend from high school, Sara Bennings. They’d kept in touch via e-mail, but actually getting together in person was a treat and one of the benefits of spending the summer in Apple Grove. Sara had married her high school boyfriend and settled into life as a farmer’s wife and the mother of Sunny, her four-year-old daughter.

“Hi. It’s me, Lori,” she said when Sara answered.

She was rewarded by a squeal of pleasure, and she could almost see her excitable, red-haired friend go pink-cheeked with enthusiasm.

“What are you going to be doing all summer, until the café is ready to open?” Sara asked after they exchanged recent news.

“A woman I know is writing a cookbook of recipes that will appeal to preschoolers. She’s going to pay me to test some of them while I’m here.”

“That sounds like fun.”

“I expect it will be, and it will give me a little income before I take another restaurant job.”

“Any prospects?” Sara asked. “I hate to think of you leaving again, but I can’t imagine any jobs around here that would interest you.”

“One with good potential in Chicago, but I don’t need to make up my mind right away. The restaurant is still under construction.”

They had so much to catch up on that Lori was surprised to see that they’d been talking for over an hour. She said goodbye, promising that they’d get together soon.

One thing she hadn’t mentioned to her friend was working with Scott on the café. Sara was the only friend who’d known about Lori’s big crush on him in high school. Sara might get the wrong idea if Lori brought it up. Lori didn’t want her friend to think she was still attracted to Scott after all this time. He was, after all, a married man.



“Daddy, wake up!”

Scott reluctantly opened one eye and grimaced at his son.

“How about letting me sleep a few more minutes?” he asked.

“You said we’d do something fun today,” Joey reminded him, planting himself astride Scott’s chest and digging in with his knees.

“What time is it?” He turned his head to look at the big red numbers on his alarm. “Seven o’clock! You don’t get up this early on day-care days.”

He couldn’t help noticing that Joey was already dressed in jeans and a green T-shirt, with the tag sticking out in front.

“I don’t have to go there today. Get up, Daddy!”

“I will if you get off me.”

Scott ruffled his son’s fine blond hair and growled in an imitation of a tiger. Joey tumbled off the edge of the bed and slipped his feet into the big work boots sitting on the floor. Scott reluctantly sat up while his son clunked the short distance to the kitchen area. Scott slept on a hide-a-bed in the trailer’s living area so Joey could have the only partitioned bedroom. It gave his son a private place where he could keep his toys, although they still seemed to spill out all over the place.

Scott stood, his foot narrowly missing a plastic dinosaur. He really should make Joey pick up all his toys before he went to bed at night, but sometimes they were both too tired.

Joey was rummaging in a lower cupboard, where they kept the cereal and crackers.

“I’ll make you some oatmeal as soon as I get dressed,” Scott said. “Meanwhile, pick up your toys. I nearly stepped on Dizzy the Dino.”

“Not oatmeal again,” Joey said dramatically. “Can’t we get some doughnuts?”

“Maybe later,” Scott said, remembering how empty the cupboards were. He absolutely had to get to the grocery store today, or they’d be living on peanut butter sandwiches.

The market wasn’t the only place he had to go. He’d just finished a job on Ridge Road. Now he had to get going on the café. He’d promised the committee an estimate in a week, and that meant he had to do the calculations this weekend. He planned to give them a rock-bottom price, not that he had any competition in the area, but he wanted to do what he could to help the town survive.

“What are we going to do, Daddy?” Joey asked as he energetically shook the last serving out of a box of dry cereal.

“Let me give it some thought,” Scott said as he measured out a scoop of coffee.

“We could go to Uncle Cory and Aunt Doreen’s farm.”

“Sorry. It’s too far for today.”

Scott loved his older sister, but he wasn’t up to her incessant questioning about his dating life or lack thereof. He didn’t know why she was so gung ho to see him married again. Right now he didn’t have time for anything but Joey and his job.

“Maybe the zoo,” Joey said hopefully.

“Sorry, partner. We’re not going to drive all the way to Des Moines.”

He had to give Joey the bad news that they were going to the big builders’ supply store. It wasn’t his son’s favorite place, but at least he wouldn’t have to have a sitter again this weekend. Scott had promised that he wouldn’t. He put bread in the toaster and milk on the table, then watched while Joey poured his own. Most likely he would spill some, but his son loved to be independent.

“Remember when we went to Apple Grove and looked at that old restaurant?” Scott said.

“Yeah, I liked Lori.”

Scott was surprised that she’d made an impression on Joey. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t do for either of them to get too interested in her. She’d left Apple Grove once, and no doubt she’d do it again as soon as she could.

“She’s going to cook there for a little while when I get it fixed up.”

“I didn’t like it. It was scary.”

“It’s old and dirty, but I’m going to make it nice again.” Scott patted his son’s uncombed hair. “It just needs fixing up, and you know that’s what I do. I thought you could be my helper today.”

“How?” Joey liked specifics.

“What I need to do is a little measuring, and then I have to make a trip to Bensen’s.”

“That will take forever,” Joey wailed.

Joey had trailed after his father too many times in the home improvement superstore. It wasn’t his idea of fun by any means.

“I’ve been thinking,” Scott said. “I have a bag of wood scraps in the storage shed. Maybe it’s time to get you a hammer and some nails of your own so you can make something.”

It was a bribe, but Scott was glad he’d thought of it. Joey didn’t have friends his age in the trailer park, and there wasn’t much for him to do when he wasn’t at day care.

Joey’s enthusiasm proved it was a good idea.

“Eat up while I get ready to go. We won’t have to spend much time at the café. We’ll leave after I have my coffee,” Scott told him.

They weren’t going to day care. Joey could wear his shirt backward if he wanted to.

It took longer to get going than Scott had hoped. Joey had to fill his backpack with the usual odds and ends, including Dizzy the Dino, who, his son insisted, liked to ride in the truck. Scott ate his toast, then took a few minutes to clean up the kitchen area and flip his bed back into a couch. They weren’t likely to have visitors, but he didn’t want Joey to grow up thinking it was all right to be messy.

By the time they got to Apple Grove, it was after nine o’clock. Scott parked in front of the café and helped Joey out of his car seat, then took out the key Bess Raymond had given him. With his son at his heels, he went to the front door. It was unlocked. He stuck his head inside and called out loudly, not wanting to startle whoever was there.

“Anybody here?”

There was no answer, so he stepped inside, keeping Joey behind him. It was unlikely, but some transient might have broken in to spend the night.

“Hello! Anybody here?” he called again.

“Oh, I wasn’t expecting anybody. Hello! Hi, Joey! What do you have there?” Lori stepped through the swinging doors from the kitchen.

“His name’s Dizzy,” Joey said, holding the plastic dinosaur up for her inspection.

“Hope I didn’t startle you,” Scott said. She was like a burst of sunshine in the dingy café.

She shook her head. “No, so many people have an interest in this place that I expect drop-ins. Well, Joey, are you Dad’s helper this morning?”

“I’m going to get my own hammer,” Joey said excitedly.

“Wonderful! Then you can build things like your daddy,” Lori replied.

Scott was pleased that she showered so much attention on Joey. He was reminded of how kind she was, always concerned about other people. Even though they’d never dated, he’d always admired that about her.

She smiled at him, and he grinned back to show her how much he appreciated the attention she was giving Joey.

Did she know about Mandy’s death? He knew how gossip circulated in small towns, but possibly she didn’t know yet. He wasn’t sure how to bring up the subject, and the last thing he wanted was more sympathy. He’d heard enough platitudes to last him a lifetime. He’d finally figured out that saying conventional things helped people deal with a loss, but he much preferred to get past his wife’s tragic end.

Had he been straight with Joey when he’d told him his mother had gone to heaven? Or had it been just another platitude? The important thing was that his son was comforted by the idea. He didn’t need to know how much Scott was struggling with his own beliefs.

A year ago he’d made the decision to start Joey in Sunday school. He wasn’t sure why, but it just felt right to include his son in the life of the church, even though he didn’t feel moved to participate himself. Some day Joey would have to decide for himself what his beliefs were. Scott didn’t want it on his conscience that he’d failed to expose him to Christian teachings.

Joey chatted with Lori as though he’d known her for ages. He didn’t usually take to strangers that quickly.

Taking out the notepad that held all his measurements and specifications, Scott studied the pages. He needed to check a few more things, then wait for the exterminator to give him a copy of his inspection report. It would make a big difference in Scott’s estimate if he had to shore up the building the way he had the pharmacy.

“Do you need any help?” Lori asked.

“Thanks, no. I just have a few things to check,” Scott said. “What brings you here this morning?”

“Don’t laugh, but I was planning the menu.”

“It will be a while before you can do any cooking here,” he said, laughing.

“Yes, I know, but I was trying to remember what Amos Conklin had on his menu. I want to capture the ambiance of the old café, but with healthier food.”

“I liked his pizza. It was great, but oil would run down your arm when you ate it. Great hamburgers, too, about half fat.”

“I remember his mashed potatoes. He served them with a big scoop of gravy and a huge pat of real butter. It’s hard to make things taste that good and still be heart-healthy.”

“I guess most people don’t want that kind of food anymore,” he said, “but it’s a treat once in a while. I love eggs fried in real butter, with hash browns on the side.”

“As soon as the café is up and running, I’ll fix you a breakfast special that will make your mouth water.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” he said with a grin. “While I have you here, maybe you can give me some idea what type of floor covering you want. I’ll be putting in new wallboard, too. It can be wood panels, or I can paint or paper it, whichever you like.”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to meet with the committee on stuff like that. What do you suggest?”

“I’m not a decorator, but I am on my way to Bensen’s to get some quotes. Why don’t you come along? Joey and I would love your company. While you’re there, you can pick up some tile and wall covering samples to show the committee.”

Joey didn’t give her a chance to say no, urging her to come with four-year-old fervor.

“You can help me pick out my hammer,” he said excitedly.

“If you have something else to do, I can grab a handful of samples for you,” Scott said. “I have to warn you, Joey and I plan to stop on the way home at a fast-food place with a play area. You know, slides and a pit full of balls, stuff like that. I’m afraid he’ll want to stay awhile.” Scott was also afraid she could read in his expression how much he hoped she’d say yes.

“Come with us,” Joey said enthusiastically.

Lori tucked a lock of her chestnut hair behind her ear, a gesture that meant she was trying to make up her mind. Scott was surprised that he remembered that little habit of hers.

“I’d love to come with you,” she finally said.

Scott was pleasantly surprised and realized he’d been holding his breath, waiting for an answer. What did he think he was doing? He wanted to spend time with her, but asking her to go to a building supply store was about as far from a date as anyone could get.

“Great. Joey will love having you.”

“My cell phone doesn’t get good reception in here—maybe the tin ceiling or something. Aunt Bess wanted me to go shopping, so I’d better tell her to go ahead without me.”

When she went outside, Scott took out his notepad. He relied on it to keep track of the specs for the job. While he worked, Joey occupied himself by tracing his name on the dusty tabletops, a skill he’d just mastered.

His whole mood had brightened. It would be good to have another adult join the two of them, especially since it was Lori.



Lori was older and wiser now, but she still felt a disturbing warmth in Scott’s presence. Was it only a remnant of the huge crush she’d once had? She felt drawn to him, but he had a family, a wife and an adorable son.

Lori made a quick call to Bess, letting her know she wouldn’t be going shopping with her and the reason why. Of course, her aunt thought it was a splendid idea, although Lori was a little puzzled by her aunt’s enthusiasm.

Lori didn’t know Scott as a man, and she couldn’t help wondering how much he’d changed from the boy she’d known. At any rate, he wasn’t available. She was worrying about getting to know him better when nothing could come of it. Going to the store with him was a practical decision. She wanted to do everything she could to get the café up and running. At least then she could leave Apple Grove knowing that her aunt’s pet project was under control.

She elected to wait outside while he finished whatever he was doing. In truth, the derelict interior of the café filled her with doubts. By the time it was renovated enough to open, it might be long past her deadline to give a firm answer to the job offer to work at the new restaurant in Chicago. In spite of Lori’s determination not to stay in Apple Grove beyond the summer, her aunt was counting on her to revitalize the café. How long would it take to do that? Would the committee be able to hire a replacement chef?

Scott didn’t keep her waiting long. He came out and locked the door, his hand on Joey’s shoulder to steer him toward the truck.

“I hope you don’t mind riding in the jump seat. Joey’s car seat isn’t secure enough back there.”

“No, not at all,” Lori said.

“Let me get a wipe,” Scott said to his son. “Your hands are filthy.”

“I can write my name,” Joey proudly told Lori.

“That’s great! What are you going to make with your new hammer?” she asked.

“Lots of things. Dizzy needs a house.”

“Dizzy?”

“His dinosaur,” Scott said, retrieving a moistened wipe from the truck and scrubbing his son’s hands.

“Yes, dinosaurs really like having a place of their own,” Lori said, playing along.

The ride to Bensen’s went more quickly than Lori had expected, and as Scott drove down the rural roads, she admired the recently cultivated fields on either side. The corn was newly planted, making the whole countryside seem fresh and promising. She couldn’t ride through rural Iowa without thanking the Lord for the bounty all around her.

The trip went fast because Joey never stopped talking. He was obviously excited about what he would build, and she suspected that it was a treat to have his father’s full attention. She wanted to ask about his mother but decided it wasn’t her place.

“Bensen’s isn’t Joey’s favorite store,” Scott said a bit apologetically when they arrived in the busy parking lot in front of the huge store. “He won’t ride in a cart anymore, but it’s a lot of walking for a kid his age.”

“We’ll play the find-it game,” Lori said, as they got out of the car.

“What’s that?” Joey asked.

“You think of something in the store, and we’ll see how fast you can find it. Then I’ll think of something. Whoever finds things the fastest wins.”

“Daddy will win. He knows where everything is.” Joey looked crestfallen.

Lori couldn’t help smiling. “Daddy can’t play. Just you and me. What shall we look for first?”

She was a little surprised when Joey slipped his hand into hers.

“A hammer!” he squealed with delight.

“Good idea,” Scott said. “Let’s find your hammer first. Then you have to let Lori and me look at other things.”

Joey had no trouble leading them to the right aisle to find a hammer. Lori was a little surprised when Scott started lifting full-sized ones to get a feel for what he wanted.

“Here are some kids’ tool sets,” she pointed out, unable to see Joey using a heavy grown-up hammer.

“Thanks, but I don’t believe in giving kids toy tools. They never work well, and it only frustrates them. Don’t worry. Joey won’t be using it without my supervision.”

“Wow, you’re going to get a big man’s hammer,” she said to Joey.

“I’ll teach him the safe way to use it,” Scott said. “Now we need to find nails. Joey gets a point for finding the hammer. Let’s see who can find the nails first.”

Scott and Lori soon conceded the game to Joey. The store was one big maze of shelves and aisles, but the four-year-old had an amazing memory for finding his way around it.

“You can probably tell that we come here a lot,” Scott said, letting his son hold the heavy hammer while he picked out an assortment of nails to go with it. “Remember when you helped me build a trellis for your aunt’s climbing roses?”

“It’s lasted all this time,” Lori said. “It’s so heavy with roses that it can’t even be painted anymore. When you build something, it’s certainly sturdy.”

“I seem to remember that you were a big help, especially when I spilled the nails and you helped me find them all.”

“You’re being kind. I was the one who knocked them over.”

“Were you?” He laughed. “I don’t remember that, but I do remember your purple phase. All you wore were purple shirts.”

“That was our school color! I remember you wearing a denim jacket with so many metal studs, you clanked when you walked.”

“Guilty,” he said, laughing. “Funny what we thought was cool when we were kids. Do you still paint your nails that silvery color? Always reminded me of a robot.”

She laughed at his teasing. The years seemed to fall away, and they were kids again, covering up their mutual affection with jokes.

Then, they split up for a moment, Joey choosing to go with her while his dad went to the lumber department. She got lost in the plumbing section and was a bit embarrassed to call on the little boy to lead her to the flooring section.

At the end of their trip, she had a stack of samples and absolutely no ideas about how the café should be decorated. Aunt Bess was expecting Scott to miraculously transform the old café into a town meeting place as well as a restaurant. It wasn’t going to be a quick or easy process. Revitalizing the building was going to take a lot of hard work and prayers, not to mention a big investment from the committee members.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Scott said to his son when they had paid for their purchases and were out in the parking lot.

He gave Lori his hand to help her into the space behind the driver’s seat. His palm was rough and calloused, but his touch was gentle, and she had an odd sensation of vertigo. She shook her head to clear it.

“Fasten your seat belt,” Joey reminded her.

“That’s right,” Scott said, nodding at his son. “The truck won’t go unless everyone is belted in.”

Scott was bareheaded today, his dark blond hair curling in the back, above the collar of his navy blue T-shirt. She could get only a glimpse of his face in the rearview mirror, and his eyes were masked by sunglasses. She could see his hands on the steering wheel, gripping it tightly as he drove with complete concentration. The deserted country road didn’t seem to call for so much intensity, but then, he did have his son beside him on the seat. She could read his determination to keep the little boy safe in the rigid set of his shoulders. Joey kept chattering, but Scott answered only in monosyllables.

When they got to the town where Scott had promised to stop for lunch, Joey literally bounced in his car seat. Lori wondered when she had last felt enthusiasm like his.

Her fervent prayer was that someday she would have a child of her own, someone to love without reservation. Joey reminded her of what she was missing. Maybe it would never happen. Maybe she would be like Aunt Bess, devoted to following the Lord and doing what she could for others. It was a good life, a satisfying life, but still her heart was moved by Joey, by his innocence and his zest for life.

They stopped, and she got out of the truck while Scott was occupied with extracting Joey from his car seat.

Scott smiled at her warmly and nodded at the rather garish fast-food place, with its enclosed play area on one side.

“Joey’s favorite restaurant,” he said a bit apologetically.

“I’ve never been here. It will be a new experience,” she said enthusiastically.

They were early for lunch, but still the play area was a busy place. As soon as they went through the restaurant’s door, Joey made a beeline for the enclosed play area, with a slide, climbing ropes, places to crawl and an enclosure filled with hundreds of red, green and yellow balls.

“I guess we’d better find a table and order some food,” Scott said, with a small smile. “Not that Joey has the slightest interest in eating while he’s here.”

She followed Scott to a green-topped table where he could keep an eye on his son while he played.

“What can I get for you?” he asked.

“I’d love something cold to drink, but I’m really not hungry,” she said.

“Yeah, I feel the same way about the food here,” he said, with a knowing grin. “I’ll just get some chicken nuggets and fries, which we can all share, if that’s okay with you.”

“Fine. I’ll just sit and watch Joey. He certainly can climb.”

“Like a monkey.”

If the noise level was any indication, a dozen or more kids were having the time of their lives. Lori was immensely entertained by their antics and almost tempted to jump into the deep layer of rubber balls, which came up to Joey’s waist. He was trying to shimmy across them, sending them flying in all directions.

Scott came back with a tray full of chicken nuggets and French fries, with an apple juice for Joey and tall cups of lemonade for them.

“I’ll tell him the food is here,” he said.

It was obvious that Joey preferred playing to eating, and Scott was an understanding father. He didn’t insist that his son come to the table.

“He’ll come when he gets hungry,” he said, returning alone.

Lori dipped a limp French fry in the ketchup that she had squeezed from a foil packet, but it was only to have something to do. Now that she was sitting alone with Scott, she didn’t know what to say. They sat for several minutes without saying anything, but it was a companionable silence. When he did speak, it was only to comment on how much Joey was enjoying himself.

“So how did you like working in Chicago?” he asked finally.

“I liked it, even though the job didn’t work out. I have a chance at another if I make up my mind soon enough,” she said.

He nodded but didn’t ask any more questions, and his reticence discouraged her from satisfying her curiosity about his wife, although she did wonder why he never mentioned Joey’s mother.

“You really do look good,” he said after he returned from checking on Joey.

It was the last thing she’d expected him to say, and she didn’t know how to respond.

“You’re not one of those cooks who enjoy their own food too much,” he said.

He smiled directly at her, and it was like the sun coming out on a gloomy day. She wanted to say something nice in return, but she was at a loss for words.

“Here he comes. I knew he’d get hungry eventually.” Scott stood to let his son slide into the booth beside him.

“That big kid kept hogging the slide,” Joey complained. “He sat there and wouldn’t let anyone else go down.”

“Maybe he’ll be gone when you’re done eating. You can play a little longer if Lori doesn’t mind,” Scott told him.

“No, of course not. I was tempted to jump into those balls myself,” Lori confessed.

“Big people aren’t supposed to,” Joey said, with a worried frown.

“I’m not really going to do it,” she assured him.

“Lori is very good at resisting temptation,” Scott said.

She couldn’t help but notice that Scott didn’t smile when he said that.

After letting Joey play awhile longer, they headed home. The little boy dozed off on the way back to Apple Grove, but the silence in the truck felt comfortable. She and Scott had grown up in the same town, had gone to the same schools, and had known the same people. Their shared history made it unnecessary to fill the time with words.

Joey woke up when she got out of the truck.

“Bye, Lori,” he said sleepily.

“Have fun making stuff with your new hammer,” she said as she turned to walk up to Aunt Bess’s house.

Scott thanked her for coming along. She stood and watched as his truck went down the street and disappeared from sight.




Chapter Four


Lori walked to church beside her aunt, drawing in the sweet scent of spring with every breath. It was the first Sunday in May, and she couldn’t have imagined a fairer day. The sky was a beautiful blue, and the sun was almost too warm for the white sweater she was wearing with her light pink dress. A light wind teased her silky flared skirt and caressed her cheeks, and she felt truly at home for the first time since arriving back in town.

“Everyone will be so happy to see you,” Bess trilled, hustling along in her pointy-toed shoes with one-inch heels.

She was dressed in one of her standard colors, forest green, but she’d softened the effect by wearing a creamy ruffled blouse with her suit. Bess looked lighthearted, which matched Lori’s mood perfectly, although she was hard-pressed to understand the rush of happiness the morning had brought.

Certainly she was pleased to be going to Apple Grove Bible Church again. She’d enjoyed services at a Chicago church, but the congregation was so large that she’d felt lost in the crowd. It would be good to see familiar faces, and she was eager to hear a sermon by the new minister, Reverend Bachman.

Not surprisingly, there was a good crowd milling around outside the open church doors; people were enjoying the pleasant weather and exchanging small talk. The sound of the choir’s last-minute practice wafted out, a signal that they had a good fifteen minutes before church began.

“I need to talk to one of the Sunday school teachers,” her aunt said. “No need for you to come inside yet, but save me a seat somewhere in the middle.”

Lori nodded assent as her aunt hurried off, then looked around for familiar faces.

“Lori Raymond!” a voice behind her said.

“Sara! I wondered whether I’d see you this morning.”

“You remember Todd, don’t you?” the apple-cheeked, red-haired young woman asked, introducing her husband.

“Of course, you were a few years ahead of us in school. It’s nice to see you, Todd,” Lori said.

“Lori’s been in Chicago, working as a chef,” Sara told her husband.

“Here for a vacation?” Todd asked, running his finger around the collar of a crisp white shirt.

He was a big man, muscular but not beefy, with a pleasant face and close-cropped blond hair. Lori remembered him as a popular football player, but as rather shy and quiet.

“Not exactly,” Lori said as a trio of little girls in pastel dresses and little straw hats raced past her.

“Oops. Looks like Sunday school is letting out,” Sara said. “I’d better round up Sunny. Call me again soon.”

When Sara and Todd darted around to the rear entrance to collect their daughter, Lori looked for other people she knew. There were familiar faces, but before she could approach anyone, she was surprised to see the last person she would expect to find at church.

“Scott!” she called.

He stopped suddenly when he saw her and grinned broadly.

“Lori.”

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she told him.

“No, I suppose you didn’t,” he said, coming two steps closer.

He was wearing his Sunday-best jeans, if there was such a thing, and the cuffs of a pale blue dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows over golden-tan arms. He wasn’t wearing a hat, and his hair looked thick and wavy.

“Well, I’m glad to see you.” She was surprised by the pleasure she felt.

“I’m picking Joey up from Sunday school,” he explained.

“Oh.”

“I’m not staying for the service, though.”

“Does Joey enjoy Sunday school?”

“He likes to be with kids his own age.”

“Well, I’d better go inside,” she said. “Say hello to Joey for me.”

“Yeah, waiting isn’t Joey’s strong suit. I’d better go get him.”

For a long moment he didn’t move away, and she was conscious of his eyes focused on her. Then he was gone, and the sun seemed to go behind a cloud. She moved slowly toward the open church doors, trying not to think about things that could have been different if they’d been more than friends years ago.

When the service began, Lori tried hard to concentrate. She had to admit that the new minister was a gifted preacher, but her mind kept wandering in spite of her good intentions. She shouldn’t be thinking about Scott. After all, he had a family of his own now and a life completely separate from hers. A few brief encounters while they planned renovations in the café shouldn’t bring back disturbing feelings. What she really needed to do was decide whether to take the new job in Chicago. That way she would know how long she’d be staying in Apple Grove.

Bess chatted with friends after the service, and Lori stood beside her and answered the same questions over and over as different people greeted her. She loved the people in town, but she had a hard time focusing on the conversations that swirled around her when her own life was in limbo. She found it especially hard to say how long she’d stick around. She was relieved when her aunt finally wanted to start walking home.

“Oh, by the way,” Bess said in an offhand way, “I’ve invited company for Sunday dinner. That potato salad you made last night looks too luscious for just the two of us. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Well, no, of course not.”

“I have some hot dogs and buns. We can fire up my grill. I made sure there’s enough charcoal.”

The last time Lori had eaten anything her aunt had grilled, she’d had to scrape off a quarter inch of charred meat. Bess was a wonderful teacher but a disaster as a cook.

“I’ll take care of the grill,” Lori quickly offered.

“I was sure I could count on you,” her aunt said, with a little giggle. “And don’t worry about dessert. I have three kinds of ice cream in the freezer.”

“You didn’t say who’s coming.”

“Dottie. You remember her. We’ve been teaching together since forever. And I invited Scott when I saw him picking Joey up after Sunday school.”



Scott had doubts—serious doubts—about going to Bess Raymond’s house for Sunday dinner. If she had any ideas about matching him with her niece, she was wasting her time. A lot had happened since high school. He felt hollow inside, and he was not ready to let anyone else get close. His life was much more complicated now than when they’d been kids.

Even if he did want to renew his friendship with Lori, nothing could come of it. She’d be leaving after the café was up and running. He didn’t want Joey to become attached to her, only to be devastated when she left.

He was mad at himself for not thinking of an excuse to get out of going to Sunday dinner, but Miss Raymond had a way of getting people to do what she wanted. Going to a meal at her house was the second thing he really didn’t want to do that day.




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