Possibilities and yearnings rose within his heart.

He’d known, since he was thirteen, what he wanted.

A home. A family.

Now he was thirty-five and staring at middle age, still single. And he was holding the sore ankle of a woman who was slowly, unwittingly, shifting into the emptiness of his life.

He pulled the wrapping snug and tacked the end of the bandage down. “That might not feel so good, but it will help,” Luke said, standing up. “So. Supper. Guess I’ll have to see what I can throw together.”

“I should stay here,” Janie sputtered. “I should supervise the kids.”

“You should relax.” Luke ignored her objections.

“But, Luke. The mess…” Janie’s protest died as Luke shot her a warning look.

“I’ll clean up,” he said.

“Just make sure you do,” she warned.

He saluted. “I’m a man of my word.”

“Then you’re a rare man indeed.”

CAROLYNE AARSEN

and her husband, Richard, live on a small ranch in Northern Alberta, where they have raised four children and numerous foster children, and are still raising cattle. Carolyne crafts her stories in her office with a large west-facing window, through which she can watch the changing seasons while struggling to make her words obey.

A Family for Luke
Carolyne Aarsen

For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.

—Matthew 6:14

To my brothers and sisters.

Thanks for the memories.

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

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Epilogue

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

“I don’t want to talk to her.” Luke moved his cell phone to his other ear as he stopped his truck in front of the derelict house. “Just transfer the money into her account like you always do.”

Through the open window of his truck, he heard the sounds of saws screaming from inside the house, his most recent investment, hammers pounding and money being made.

“She really wants to see you.” Uncle Chuck, his account manager, could be persistent when he thought Luke should do what he wanted. But Luke had lived around Uncle Chuck and his foster father, Al, long enough to pick up some of their quirks.

“You know, Uncle Chuck, when you see a dog and each time you try to pet it, it bites you, how quick are you going to be to pet it again?”

“But she says she’s changed.”

“Like all the other times she’s changed. Sorry, Uncle Chuck. Not happening and that topic is now closed.” Luke reached across the cab of the truck and pulled over a new cost estimate he had gotten from the foreman of the crew. “I’m gonna need more money in the building account. Push a few thousand in there, as well.”

“Moving it as we speak. Are things going okay at the house?”

“I’ve had to move my trailer here until the job is done. So up to now, no, not going so good.”

One of the construction workers sauntered down the ramp out the front door, his yellow hard hat askew on his head, a cigarette dangling from indifferent lips. He paused as he took a few more puffs before flicking the cigarette onto the lawn. He snagged a couple of two-by-fours, laid them on his shoulder and carted them back in. He could have easily brought in triple that.

“Efficiency is a problem. I’m sure I can get things going back on track if I’m physically here,” Luke said, pulling out his metal clipboard. Then he jumped as a cold, wet nose was shoved in the back of his neck.

Cooper, his golden lab, heaved a canine sigh and laid his head on Luke’s shoulder, expressing his frustration with the current level of inactivity. He’d been cooped up in the back of Luke’s truck for the five-hour drive from Calgary north to the town of Riverbend.

At first Luke had toyed with the idea of putting Cooper in the holiday trailer he was pulling behind the truck, his temporary office and residence while he was supervising this house reno, but Cooper would get bored, and when he was bored he chewed. Anything. Pillows. Telephones. Cushions. Curtains. Any of the dozens of books Luke always took with him. If Cooper could get his mouth around it, he would chew it. So Cooper had spent the entire drive with his head hanging over the seat with expectant optimism.

“I really don’t think you need to worry. You’ll do okay,” Chuck assured him, his voice turning crackly as the reception grew worse. “Have you thought of keeping this one for yourself? From the pictures you sent me, it has lots of potential.”

Luke gave a short laugh as he got out of the truck to improve the reception. “This house is way too big for a bachelor. And the yard would take too much upkeep.”

As he spoke, his gaze shifted to the yard next door. Grass so green it made his eyes hurt, a veranda holding chairs with fat, welcoming cushions.

And pots of flowers everywhere. Hanging from the sagging veranda roof, lined up on the crooked steps and at the end of a cracked and broken sidewalk.

The flowers seemed a valiant effort at hiding the broken-down condition of the house.

When he bought his current project a couple weeks ago, the Realtor had helpfully told him that the widow next door was young and had three children. As if this was all the information he needed to seal the deal.

“One of these days you’re going to find someone,” Gary had said in that avuncular way that could either set Luke’s teeth on edge or make him smile.

Today he was feeling out of sorts. When he was done with this house it would be the fifth house he had rehabbed in the past three years. It would be the fifth time he put all his energy, imagination and personality into a house, only to turn around and let someone else settle into the home he had worked so hard to create. Truth be told, he was getting tired of the work. Getting tired of his life. Sure he wanted to settle down, and once upon a time, in a rosy and perfect past, he would have.

But Jocelyn kept putting off the wedding date, and after the fourth time, Luke gave her an ultimatum.

The next day he sold the house they had bought and since then, he had owned lots of houses but never had a home.

“You’re my account manager, Chuck, not my personal adviser,” Luke grumbled, shoving his hand through his hair. He needed a haircut. It seemed he always needed a haircut. And a shave. Just too busy to keep up the appearances. No wonder he was still single.

“I’m also your uncle. And ever since Al died, I’m allowed to take over his father role.”

Chuck’s quick claim on Luke made him smile. From the day Luke had come to Al’s home as a surly twelve-year-old foster child, Al’s brother, Chuck, had insisted Luke call him Uncle.

“I don’t need a father anymore, Chuck,” Luke said.

“Everyone needs a father. I still miss my father. Especially now with Al gone.”

“How are you doing?” Luke asked, leaning against the warm hood of the truck, his gaze alternating between his money pit and the house beside it.

Three kids and a widow.

“I’m okay. Sure, I miss my brother, but I’m more worried about you. You didn’t stick around very long after the funeral.”

Guilt settled around Luke like a dark cloud. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just…” his voice petered out.

“Okay. I won’t push. But you make sure when you’re done with that house up in the wilds of Northern Alberta that you come down to Victoria and see me and your Aunt Rose.”

“I will.”

“And as for Lillian?”

“Uncle Chuck, don’t push. And don’t tell her where I live.”

The pause in the conversation told him this warning had come too late.

“I’m sorry. I thought I was helping.”

“Maybe she’ll just hit a bar and forget what you told her. But I gotta go. Take care, and I’ll call you in a couple of days.”

Luke said goodbye, then snapped his phone shut and slipped it in his pocket.

A whine from the truck shifted his attention from the past to the present. He should take Cooper for a walk. The poor dog had been patient the long drive up. Maybe he could put him in the backyard.

He walked across the overgrown, patchy lawn, the line of demarcation between his and the neighbor’s lawn a stubby hedge leading to a rickety fence separating the backyards. A perfect before and after image, Luke thought. Green and lush on one side, and decidedly otherwise on his side.

The worn fence listed to one side.

The yard was in even worse shape than the house. Paint cans were piled in a tumbled heap against the fence. Discarded bicycle bodies lay rusted on the overgrown grass beside endless stacks of misshapen cardboard boxes. The only thing missing was a car jacked up on blocks.

He thought the crew might have done some cleaning up, but no.

Luke glanced from the decrepit yard to the house. Gary had been right about the place’s promise. The huge yard, the corner lot, the older house with its gabled dormers and bay windows, all created potential curb appeal.

It would make a great family home, Luke thought with a touch of wistfulness. All it needed was a major cash input and, well, a family.

The money Luke had. The soft drink franchise he and his foster father, Al, had run had done okay. And when Al died, Luke sold the business. He’d never had a heart for it, so he turned his attention to real estate. He had enough money to move quickly on old houses, hire the right crews and wait until the market grew favorable to sell them.

Money wasn’t the problem.

But family? Somehow, money couldn’t solve that particular problem.

Luke turned back to the yard, imagining away the junk, the overgrown grass and picturing children in the yard, a wife sitting in a chair. His dog snoozing in the sun.

The perfect suburban family.

The family he thought he’d have a good start on by now.

A flash of color from the other yard distracted him from his internal grumbling. A little girl was tossing a stuffed bear into the air, her brown curls bouncing and bobbling as she picked it up and threw it again. A little boy sat on the steps overlooking the yard, bent over a book.

“C’mon, Todd,” the little girl said. “Come and play with me and Berry Bear.”

“I want to finish this chapter before Mom comes,” Todd replied.

A memory teased Luke’s consciousness as he watched the boy. Himself at exactly the same age doing exactly the same thing. Only no younger sister nagged at him to come and play. No mother was expected home any minute. He read because in the stories he immersed himself in, things always turned out okay by the end. Reading was his escape from the empty mobile home and the ever-present fear that his mom might not come home that night.

Go play with your sister, Luke silently urged the boy. You don’t know how lucky you are.

Cooper’s bark broke into his memories. Luke pushed himself away from the fence as Cooper barked again. He had to take the dog out of the truck.

As he turned, a woman pulled up behind his trailer and got out of the car.

The widow, he presumed.

She was younger than he had imagined. Slimmer. Dark hair pulled back under a bandanna, dark eyebrows that winged upward enhancing her eyes. She had a droop to her shoulders, but then she stopped at the end of the sidewalk and a gentle smile eased across her lips. She bent over the flowerpots, picked a wilted blossom out of it and her eyes seemed to brighten.

Luke was still watching her as he walked to his truck and opened the door for his dog.

Bad idea.

Seeing his moment of freedom, Cooper bolted past him, almost knocking him over.

Luke caught himself on the edge of the door, regaining his balance and watched with the horror of inevitability as his Cooper streaked down the sidewalk, all legs and flapping ears and lolling tongue.

“Cooper. Come back here now,” he yelled, as if what he said penetrated the gray matter that was his dog’s brain.

Cooper was out, and he was in a new place full of new smells and new things to see. His master was, for the moment, invisible.

“Cooper. Heel,” Luke shouted, charging around the front of the truck.

Cooper stopped, and for a brief moment Luke thought all those dog obedience classes might have sunk in.

But the woman bending over the flowerpots had caught his attention. A potential playmate. And with one burst of exuberant energy, Cooper jumped on top of her just as he always did to Luke.

Only, this woman wasn’t as big as Luke and she went down like a rock, taking the flowerpots with her.

The woman managed to push Cooper off her and scrambled to her feet just as Luke ran up. Cooper cavorted on the lawn in front of her, ready to play.

“Sit, you dumb mongrel,” she snapped.

Cooper tilted his head, as if studying her.

“I said sit.” She sounded really ticked now.

And to Luke’s surprise, Cooper did. Right on the flowers that had spilled out of the pot, effectively squashing them.

“I don’t believe this,” she said, turning her startlingly blue eyes to him as he grabbed Cooper’s collar. “This is like a nightmare.”

Even though her mouth was pulled tight with disapproval, she couldn’t hide the fullness of her lips or the delicate tilt of her cheekbones. He couldn’t rightly say she was cute when she was angry, but he wanted her to smile again like she was when she had walked up the sidewalk.

Of course, he wasn’t going to be the recipient of that happy occasion anytime soon, judging from the depth of her frown or the way her hands were clenched into tight fists.

“Sorry about that,” Luke said, trying to sound apologetic without sounding obsequious.

“Could you please get your dog to get off my flowers?”

“Of course.” He didn’t apologize this time. That was getting old, and more apologies wouldn’t change the destruction his dog had created. “I own the house next door,” he said, trying to make conversation to bridge the awkwardness between them. “My name is Luke. Luke Harris.”

“Janie Corbett,” she said in a clipped voice, still glaring at Cooper, who was staring at her.

“I’ll pay for whatever damage he’s done.”

“That’s not necessary,” Janie Corbett said. “And besides, these plants can’t be replaced. They’re very unusual.”

“How unusual can flowers be?” Luke couldn’t understand what she was talking about. Flowers were flowers, right? You buy some more, stick them in the pots and you’re done.

“I started them myself from seed,” she said bending over to salvage what she could from the mess Cooper had made. “And your dumb dog just ruined five months of work. Five months I can’t reproduce.”

Was that a hitch in her voice? Was she really that upset over a few lousy flowers?

Then the door to the house slammed open and the little girl with the brown curly hair bounced onto the deck, clutching her bear.

“Mommy. You’re home,” she called.

Distracted by this new person, Cooper leaped to his feet, barking and tugging on the collar.

“Luke, hang on to that dog,” Janie cried out.

“Mommy. The dog.”

Autumn’s frightened voice caught Janie’s attention and, it seemed, that ludicrous dog’s. He barked again and took a step away from his owner, his focus on her daughter standing on the porch.

“Hold on to him,” she shouted at Luke. It couldn’t happen again. Please not again.

“Mommy.” Autumn’s voice grew panicky as the dog responded to her cry with unrestrained gusto.

Janie watched the creature pull free then rush toward Autumn, who had dropped her bear and now stood frozen on the porch.

“Cooper. Down. Now,” Luke yelled in a feeble last-ditch effort.

Autumn’s hands were pressed against her eyes, as if bracing herself for what might happen. Again.

But the dog came to a halt, then dropped to a squat on the sidewalk below Autumn, head cocked to one side.

“Luke, if that dog hurts her…” Janie couldn’t finish the sentence; her voice was trembling too hard.

“I think he’s okay,” Luke said, edging closer to him.

The terror circling Janie’s heart with an iron band eased as Luke reached for the dog’s collar. Then the front door opened, and Todd stood in the doorway. Thankfully, both Todd and her elder daughter Suzie had been gone that horrible day. They didn’t have the same reactions to dogs that Autumn did.

“Hey. Neat dog,” he said, grinning.

Cooper, suddenly distracted, charged up the steps, past Autumn and through the open door behind him.

Janie ran to Autumn’s side. She knelt, touching her daughter’s face looking for any sign of trauma. “Are you okay, honey?”

Autumn looked puzzled, as if surprised that nothing had happened this time. The trembling smile she gave her mother made Janie’s knees weak with relief.

Janie scooped up her daughter into her arms and gave her a quick hug just as she heard her own mother’s outraged voice from inside the house.

“What is going on in the bathroom?”

Janie heard a bark, then the sound of water being lapped up. Oh, my goodness, was that dog drinking out of the toilet?

“I’m sorry, Mom,” Todd said as Janie held Autumn close. “I didn’t think he would come in the house.”

“That’s okay, Todd.” Janie needed to go inside and see what that dog was doing, but she couldn’t leave Autumn outside. She caught her son by the hand and led him and Autumn to the porch swing. “Sit here and don’t move.”

“But I want to see the dog,” Todd complained.

“You need to stay with Autumn. You know why she’s afraid of dogs.”

“I’m not afraid of dogs.” Todd offered, putting his arm around his sister.

“What’s going on?” Now her own mother was outside and the dog was barking inside. “How did that creature get into the house? You must get him out. Immediately.” Then Tilly saw Autumn and swooped down. “Is she okay, Janie? Did that dog hurt her? How could you let this happen?”

Janie felt like clapping her hands over her ears and retreating somewhere. Anywhere but here.

She’d spent most of the afternoon making coffee for her customers and trying to balance the books of her coffee shop. Though the customers kept coming, there was still a negative sign in front of the final balance in the checkbook, an irony not lost on her.

She and her oldest daughter, Suzie, had had a fight this morning over the skimpy skirt Suzie insisted on wearing, which made her look closer to twenty than fourteen, and Autumn had thrown up all over her precious bear. The phone call from Todd’s teacher expressing her concern over Todd’s constant reading during lunchtime was another nice touch.

And then, on the way home, her car started making funny noises that weren’t the least bit humorous to her.

As a result, the ache perched behind her eyes all day had spread to her entire head, making it pound and throb.

When she’d turned onto her street, she had been so tempted to keep going past the house and down the road to the highway. Away from responsibilities and the constant demands on a single mother trying to juggle family and work.

But that was her ex-husband’s trick. Not hers. Not responsible Janie Corbett. And as a result, she had been attacked by a crazed dog that was now loose in her house. Her new neighbor was yelling up the stairs, and her mother was staring at her as if this entire chaotic mess was her fault.

Somewhere there had to be a lesson in all of this.

“So how did that dog get in the house?” Tilly continued, pressing Janie for an answer.

“I let the dog in, Grandma,” Todd said quietly. “He was looking at Autumn.”

Tilly pulled back, her hands fluttering over her granddaughter’s face. “Honey, are you okay? Is she okay?”

Though the edge of anxiety in Tilly’s voice echoed her previous fear, Janie resented the way her mother’s tone elevated the concern in her daughter’s face.

“Autumn’s fine, Mom. Please, don’t fuss.”

The look her mother gave her held a volume of unspoken fears and concerns laced with reprimand.

“Don’t fuss? Don’t fuss? This precious child was bitten by Owen’s dog only a few years ago. How could you forget that?”

Janie felt suitably chastened and, at the same time, guilty. It had been Tilly whom Janie called after she took Autumn to the emergency room and Tilly who had shown up to give her the support she should have been getting from her husband, Owen.

Even when Janie brought Autumn home, shivering with fear from being taken to the E.R., Owen was still not answering his phone. Janie had had to call the SPCA herself to come and get the dog.

“Cooper, come here,” she heard from inside the house.

“Janie, shouldn’t you go in and help him?” her mother asked.

“And do what?” Why did her mother think she could do anything with that out-of-control dog?

Tilly ignored Janie’s outburst as she held Autumn close. “And you, baby, how are you? That dog must have scared you half to death.” Tilly shot Janie an annoyed look.

With her headache subsiding, Janie trudged inside to see what she could do.

Luke stood at the foot of the stairs, one foot on the lower steps, his knee showing through a hole in his pants and the sleeves of his faded shirt rolled over his forearms.

His long, brown hair, curling over his collar and his unshaven cheeks would have looked slovenly on some men, but the even planes of his face created an appeal not lost on Janie.

And when he gave her a sidelong glance, she felt the vague beginnings of feelings so long dormant she hadn’t thought they even existed.

“Sorry. Still don’t have the dog,” he said, an apologetic note in his voice.

“What is taking so long?”

“I didn’t think you’d appreciate a complete stranger tromping through your house. Bad enough that my dog is.”

“Well, go get him if you need to,” she snapped, her headache, her recent scare with her daughter and the disturbing way he was looking at her giving her voice a sharp edge. Autumn was fine, but she didn’t want to take any chances. She wanted the dog and this unsettling man out of her house.

She heard a thumping sound from upstairs and then, thankfully, a few seconds later Suzie came down, holding a panting dog by the collar.

And Suzie was doing something she hadn’t done for months.

Her daughter was laughing. And not just a soft chuckle. No, this was a full-bodied laugh that made her eyes sparkle, her face light up and made Janie forget the skimpy skirt and tight T-shirt she was wearing that had caused such a huge battle only a few hours ago.

“Here. I’ll take him.” Luke met Suzie halfway up the stairs and took the squirming dog from her. He looked up at Janie. “And again, I’m so sorry.”

Her kids were okay and, from what she could see, no serious damage had been done to the house. And Luke wasn’t looking at her anymore. She just wanted to be alone.

“Just go. Please.”

“Does he have that ridiculous beast under control?” Tilly called out from outside. “Should I call 911?”

Janie glanced down at the dog, now sitting with his head tipped quizzically to one side, water still dripping from his snout. He seemed harmless. The emphasis on seemed.

“It’s under control, Mom,” Janie called over her shoulder. She arched an eyebrow at Luke, as if making sure.

“I’m leaving now.” Luke had a firm grip on the dog’s collar, and Janie took a quick step back.

“He won’t hurt you.” Luke’s eyes locked on to hers, and he tilted her a quick smile.

As their eyes held that twinge returned, but she ruthlessly quashed it. Single mom. Three kids. As if she had any space for even the faintest hint of flirtation.

“Just make sure you keep that dog away from my kids, okay?” she said, disliking the harsh tone that self-preservation had put into her voice.

Luke held her gaze, as if surprised at her anger. Well, he could stay surprised. She didn’t need to explain anything more to him.

But in spite of herself, she watched as he made his way down the walk, his six-foot-something frame bent over the dog to control him.

“Oh, my. Look at the mess,” Tilly said as they stepped back in the house. “This has got to be cleaned up immediately. And if you want to keep those flowers outside in good shape, they’ll need to be dealt with, as well.”

Janie would have preferred to deal with the flowers and ignore the mess in the house.

But her mother was already picking up the coatrack and clucking about the relatively minor mess.

“Cooper was hilarious.” Todd plopped onto the couch, a grin splitting his face.

“When I came upstairs, he was on my bed.” Suzie was still chuckling as she pushed a tossed pillow aside and sat on the floor.

“Was he jumping?” Autumn asked.

“No. Just standing there, his head tipped to one side, looking like he was laughing.” Suzie’s smile shone like sunshine on a cloudy day.

“That man had to drag him away,” Todd said. “I think the dog wants to play with us.”

“You should have seen him in the kitchen after he’d been drinking out of the toilet,” Suzie continued. “He came running off the carpet and couldn’t stop. He slid right into the cupboard, feet up in the air. It looked so…so…” Suzie couldn’t continue, she was laughing so hard.

Janie’s heart contracted at the sound of her children’s laughter, at their smiles and sparkling eyes. How long had it been since they’d been this happy?

Since before Owen left, that’s when. In spite of his many failings as a husband, he could, at times, have fun with the kids. Make them laugh. Do goofy things with them.

Things Janie never had time to do.

“But then I had to bring him downstairs.” Suzie glanced at Janie, and she saw her daughter’s mirth subside. As if it was her fault the fun had ended.

“What did the dog do on the bed?” Janie asked, trying to maintain the moment.

“Nothing. He didn’t do anything.”

Her voice had taken on a defensive tone that usually set Janie’s teeth on edge, but in this case, it cut her like a knife. Suzie had misunderstood Janie’s question.

Suzie held out her hand to Autumn. “Let’s go play upstairs.”

Janie felt a palpable cooling of the atmosphere as Autumn and Todd walked with their sister up the stairs.

Messed up again, she thought.

And for a moment the loneliness of parenthood settled on her like a musty old cloak. Always the boss. Always the cop, judge and jury. Always the one to end the fun.

“I think I’ll be going,” her mother said, brushing her hands on a handkerchief. “You should check upstairs. I’m sure there’s going to be dog hair everywhere.” Tilly shuddered.

“Thanks for coming on such short notice.”

“That’s what mothers do when babysitters leave you hanging.” Tilly’s amber eyes took stock of her daughter. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Mother, you’re making more of this than necessary.”

“I’m a little worried about that dog being next door.”

“The town has a leash law. If Luke doesn’t keep him tied up, he’ll have the cops to reckon with.”

“Well, he better keep it under control. The fence between the two yards isn’t that strong. He could easily cross it. And then who knows what will happen?”

Janie had her worries as well about the fence and the dog, but if her concerns were put in order, these would be at the bottom of page four.

For now, she had a family to keep going, a business to keep above water, a loan to renegotiate, a hot water tank that needed replacing, gutters that needed cleaning, a roof that needed to be reshingled, a wall that needed repairing…

And stop. Focus on the now.

“…and your father is going to be gone most of this month on some business, so if you need anything, I’ll be glad to help,” Tilly said.

“Sure. Thanks, Mom. I appreciate the help.”

Tilly’s smile softened. “I want you to know I’m praying for you. I know it’s been a year and a half since Owen died, but I’m sure you still have your difficult moments.”

And again Janie kept her reply vague. Her mother still didn’t understand that Janie hadn’t missed Owen since he walked out on her and the kids three years earlier.

Owen around had proved to be more dangerous than Owen gone. Owen gone didn’t drain her bank account. Owen gone didn’t make her feel as if she and the children were a huge impediment to his happiness. Owen gone was a relief, and his death had morphed her from abandoned woman to widow, an infinitely more respectable situation.

“I’m sure there are times you wish you had someone, though,” Tilly continued, laying her hand on Janie’s arm. “I keep praying that the Lord will bring someone into your life. Someone who can be a father to your children and a support to you.”

And how was she supposed to answer that? The last thing Janie needed or wanted right now was a man in her life. A man would be one more obligation she didn’t have time for. A man would mean opening her life, once again, to the possibility of brokenness and rejection.

No thanks. Her life was chaotic, but as long as she kept a rein on her various obligations and duties, she was okay. One tiny change would disrupt the precarious hold she had on her life right now. Her children were her first priority, and there was no way she was going to push them aside for a man.

She gave her mother a smile to put her off the scent. “I’m so thankful for your and Dad’s support.”

“You know your father would give you more…”

“No, Mom, really. We’re fine.”

“Just a suggestion.” Tilly pecked her on the cheek. “Now go and take care of those lovely children of yours.”

And with that, Tilly left.

Janie closed the door behind her mother and then leaned against it, sighing. What on earth had gotten her mother going on that particular tack?

Surely not the man who had come barreling into her life just a few moments ago.

Her thoughts slipped back to the man who had stood in her house. The man who had given her a crooked smile that seemed to hint at interest.

Now’s a good time to stop.

Then, as she pushed herself away, she caught the whiff of an unfamiliar scent that created the faintest sense of yearning.

Aftershave.

Chapter Two

“So this weekend’s the only time we’ll have to work on Sunday?” Bert heaved the sheet of drywall into the metal bin behind the fence of the yard.

“We need to get caught up.”

Luke had to get this place done in three weeks. His partner, Gary, had arranged for an open house and had promised that it was going to be a big splash.

No pressure. No pressure at all.

“My missus wasn’t too happy until I told her I was getting double time.” Bert tugged on his gloves as he grinned. “Couldn’t get me out of the house fast enough after that.”

They walked back to the yard, and as Luke bent over to pick up the second chunk of drywall, he heard a voice.

“Where’s your dog?”

Sounded like Todd, the kid from next door.

Luke looked around for the owner of the voice he barely heard above the din of the skill saw.

Bert poked Luke and pointed to the fence.

“Do you have him tied up?” Todd called out again.

Then Luke saw the hole where one of the vertical boards on his side had been broken off halfway up. The boy was kneeling, looking through the hole.

“I’ll be back,” he said to Bert, pointing to the rotting pieces of plywood lying on the overgrown grass. “Pile all of this up in that garbage bin and throw those bikes in there, too.”

Then he walked over to the fence and crouched down, to get on eye level with Todd. All he could see of the boy was one hazel eye, a freckled nose and a space where two top teeth used to be. “I have him in my holiday trailer,” Luke replied grinning at the boy.

“Doesn’t he like to run around?” Todd asked.

“Oh, yes. When I’m finished cleaning up this yard, it will be safe for him to run around in.”

“My mommy always said this fence was no good. We had to stay away from it when we had our other neighbors. They were bad.”

From the condition of the house and the yard, Luke wasn’t surprised at Todd’s assessment. “What was the baddest thing about them?” he asked, curious as to what constituted bad in Todd’s books.

“They drank beer. I don’t think they were friends of Jesus,” he said in a solemn voice.

Friends of Jesus. The quaint phrase made Luke smile. “So are you a friend of Jesus?”

Todd nodded, then smiled. “Are you?”

The question made a wave in the pool of guilt Luke had been mired in since his foster father’s death. When the God of all creation, the God who was supposedly so benevolent and loving took Al, the only person who had been true family to Luke, he stopped going to church. He couldn’t stand hearing the happy, joy, joy songs mocking his sadness. There didn’t seem to be a place for pain and loss in church.

And today was Sunday, as the men working behind him had told him a number of times. As if he didn’t know. He was pretty sure very few of them were friends of Jesus either. Sunday was for fishing, in their eyes.

“I think Jesus is a good person,” he said instead, reluctant to drag this innocent young boy into his own particular battle with God.

“Can your dog come over to play with us again?” Todd asked, his question coming from left field.

Luke’s knees were getting sore so he stood up and looked over the fence down to the boy below him, taking note of the flowerpots on the deck and the tidy yard. Not the best place for an overly playful lab. “I think it might be better if Cooper stayed in my yard.”

“But I like to play with your dog.” Todd’s grin faded away as he stood up.

Luke was pretty sure Janie wouldn’t let Todd come over to his yard, so he didn’t make that offer.

“Hey, Todd, we have to get ready for church.” Suzie, the oldest girl, came out onto the porch. Her clothing was more sedate for the occasion. “Mom says…” Her voice eased off when she saw Luke. With a grin, she came running over. “Is your dog with you?” she asked, grabbing the fence and leaning over it.

“Careful,” Luke said. “I don’t know how good this fence is.”

“Not good at all, according to my mom.” Suzie gave the boards a shake, and the whole fence listed farther.

“Mom said she was going to fix it,” Todd said.

“Except she can’t afford to,” Suzie added.

Todd frowned. “Don’t let Mom hear you say that. She’ll get mad.”

Then Suzie heaved a theatrical sigh. “Like she always does.” But Suzie let go of the fence. “Where’s Cooper?”

“Until I get this fence fixed, he has to stay in the trailer,” Luke said.

“He can play in our yard,” Suzie offered, a hopeful note in her voice.

Then the porch door opened again, and Janie appeared on the deck.

“Suzie. Todd. Come back to the house,” she called out, her voice sharp as she carefully made her way down the wooden stairs of her porch.

Janie wore a narrow brown skirt and shirt, and her hair fell in soft waves on her shoulders. All dressed up for church, Luke figured, the faint niggle of guilt returning.

Her eyes flicked from Luke to Todd to Suzie as she scurried over to her children, as if to protect them from the bad, dangerous stranger.

“What are you two doing?”

Todd looked down as he drew away from the fence. “I was just trying to see Luke’s dog,” he mumbled, toeing the grass with his shoe. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

Janie’s stroked her son’s hair. “That’s okay, honey.”

“We didn’t do anything wrong,” Suzie complained, her voice edging toward anger.

Janie’s mouth compressed into a thin line, then she forced a smile as she glanced at Suzie. “Of course not. But we do need to go to church.”

Suzie heaved a dramatic sigh, then flounced off, her skirt bouncing as she walked.

As Janie turned to him, Luke held up his hand as if in defense. “I didn’t lure them over here. Promise. I was just cleaning up.”

Janie shot a quick glance over her shoulder, as if to make sure her children were in the house, then turned back to Luke. “I’m sure you didn’t, but at the same time, I would prefer it if you could keep your distance.” She caught one corner of her mouth between her teeth, effectively ruining her lipstick, as if she was biting back other things she wanted to say.

“I understand your reluctance,” he said, though he felt slightly annoyed. “But you don’t need to worry about me around your kids.”

“I think I’m a better judge of what to worry or not worry about. So just make sure you and that dog stay on your side of the fence, and we’ll get along fine. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go to church.” Janie gave him a curt nod then left.

Bert came to stand beside him, watching Janie as she strode down the cracked and broken sidewalk to the house.

“She’s kinda cute, ain’t she?” he said with a grin.

“Yeah. Kinda,” Luke conceded, though she’d be cuter if she didn’t look at him like he was some kind of lecher or make Cooper sound like some kind of rabid animal.

“The other day that little boy was asking if he could help us. Said he knew how to pound nails real good.” Bert laughed. “The little girl wanted to help, too. She reminded me of my own girl.” Bert was quiet for a moment. “You got kids?”

“No. I don’t.” And to his surprise, the simple question raised a twinge of pain. Luke spun around. “Let’s get back to work.”

By early afternoon, Luke was feeling more confident about the progress of the job. If he hadn’t been busy with that other house back in Calgary, he’d have been up here sooner. Obviously the crew needed the influence of the boss around to keep things going.

“So, anyone up for a coffee?” he said as the crew settled onto the deck for lunch.

“Black, two sugars,” Dave said.

“Cream and one sugar,” Bert said.

“Okay. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.” Luke had seen a coffee shop on the main street when he’d scouted the town, and from the looks of the customers filling it, he figured it was one of the better places in town to grab a coffee.

He headed down the walk to the front of the house where his truck was parked, whistling. As he got in, he glanced over to the neighbor’s house.

The flowerpots that Cooper had tossed over had been righted, but the plants in them looked broken and bedraggled.

He said he would replace them, and in spite of Janie’s protests, he knew he had to do something.

Once he got things going far enough on the house, he’d take care of it.

“Why didn’t you skip church to clean up?” Dodie called out from the back of the shop.

“I need church.” Janie dipped the mop into the pail. “I need the nourishment I get there. My fellowship with fellow believers.”

“And the serving coffee after church? Was that fellowship with fellow believers?” Dodie asked.

“I said I would help Mrs. Dodson.”

“You could have skipped it, but of course, that wouldn’t look good.” Dodie dropped her pail of water on the table. “Janie Corbett is far too concerned with what other people might think if she possibly shirked even one second of what she perceived was her duty.”

Janie didn’t bother with a comeback. Dodie had never been one to care what people thought of her, and it showed both in the way she dressed and in the choices she made in her life.

“There are worse things you could accuse me of,” Janie said, swishing the mop over the floor. She cocked one ear, listening for the kids. She heard Todd’s muffled laughter and Autumn’s singing. She guessed Suzie was with them.

“I also could accuse you of being too independent. If I hadn’t been so nosy, I wouldn’t have found out you were going to come here and clean all alone.” Dodie’s voice held an accusing note.

“I would have done this on my own.”

“You would have been exhausted. Honestly, you don’t have to do everything by yourself.”

Why not? She’d fallen into that role out of necessity ever since she married Owen. Dependable and Owen were not words that belonged together.

“And I’m sure right now, you’re hoping Mom doesn’t find out you’re working on a Sunday afternoon instead of having dinner with her.” Dodie tut-tutted as she rinsed out a cloth and started wiping the tables.

“She won’t if you keep your big yap shut.”

“And your kids? What did you tell them to make sure they don’t spill?”

“I told them Grandma wouldn’t like it if she found out. Which, of course, meant I had to have a long conversation with Autumn about what would happen if Grandma did find out.” She frowned at her sister. “Could you put the cinnamon and chocolate sprinkles on either side of the sugar container? And don’t roll your eyes at me. This is my coffee shop and I like things in order.”

“I’d think you have a lot more to be concerned about than sugar container placement.” Dodie made a show of setting the containers in place, framing the scene with her hands then moving them a fraction to one side. “I can’t believe you’re still thinking of expanding. You have enough going as it is.”

“I’m like a shark,” Janie said. “I need to keep moving or die, which means I need to expand—” she stopped there. Her own father’s business was successful mainly because he kept expanding, kept moving onward and upward. The only difference was Dan Westerveld didn’t have a spouse who had gambled away all available equity in the house and business.

But Janie kept that information to herself. Neither her sister nor her parents knew how dire her financial situation was.

“What do you mean? And you’re kind of struggling as it is.”

“And that’s why I need to expand. I’m just trying to make sure I can sustain my current lifestyle, which is hardly extravagant.”

“I’ll say. I can’t believe that beater of a car of yours is still running.”

“Regular maintenance helps.” And prayer, Janie thought. Something she spent a lot of time on these days. “Although each time I bring it in for an oil change, they find something else wrong with it.”

“You should marry a mechanic/carpenter. You wouldn’t have to worry ’bout your car, or your house.” Dodie moved to the next table.

“He should be a gardener, too,” Janie muttered.

“I heard about your plants and that dog.” Dodie’s chuckle turned serious. “Did Autumn get over her scare?”

“She seems okay. Though I’m sure Todd will begin his dog campaign in earnest again.”

“Mom said the dog’s owner seemed a little odd.”

“No odder than most,” Janie replied, trying to sound disinterested. She was still a bit angry for the momentary tug of attraction she’d felt toward him.

But she’d set some firm boundaries this morning when she caught Todd talking to him. Start as you mean to go on.

“So I’m done with the tables. Now what?” Dodie swung the cloth back and forth as she looked around the shop.

“Maybe you could tidy up the storeroom and make sure my kids are behaving.”

Dodie saluted and picked up her bucket.

While Dodie kept the kids entertained, Janie finished up, forcing herself to keep going. She was so incredibly weary, all she wanted to do, after church, was go home and sleep. But she had served squares at the anniversary tea, smiling and chatting and then dragged herself back here and kept going. Sometimes she felt as if she kept pushing her exhaustion into a box and sitting on the lid. One of these days it would all jump out and overwhelm her.

Dodie had accused her of being independent. But what else could she be? She had three children, and she was their sole caregiver. She had messed up once and was determined it would never happen again.

When she was finished with the floor, she brought the cleaning supplies back to the supply cupboard. And sighed. Dodie hadn’t put the cloth back where it was supposed to be, nor was the cleaning solution capped.

If you want something done right, you’ve got to do it yourself, she thought, cleaning up behind her sister.

While she wiped out the pails and tidied up the rags, she heard Dodie and Todd talking to someone. She stepped out of the room in time to hear a familiar male voice.

Luke.

She pulled off the bandanna covering her head to fluff her hair, then stopped herself mid-primp.

What are you doing?

She retied her bandanna and strode out to the coffee shop area.

Luke stood just inside the doorway, laughing with Dodie. Sawdust sprinkled the burgundy corduroy shirt he wore tucked into faded jeans. He must have come right from the job site.

“Can I help you?” Janie asked, as she came nearer. Why had Dodie let him into the shop?

Luke glanced at Janie, and the smile animating his face slipped away.

“Sorry to bother you. Dodie just told me you’re not open today.”

“Not on Sundays.” Janie wished she didn’t sound so snippy, but she couldn’t seem to keep that tone out of her voice around him.

He unsettled her, and she didn’t like being unsettled.

“I just saw people inside and assumed you were open.” Luke straightened. “I was hoping to get some coffee for my crew.”

“Hey, Mr. Luke. Is Cooper in your truck?” Todd asked, pushing himself up so he could sit on one of the tables. “Can I see him?”

“I left him at home. I think he’s done enough damage for a few days.” Luke gave Todd a quick smile, his eyes drifting to Janie as if getting verification of that fact.

He was probably wondering if she was going to be issuing any more “stay away from my children” alerts.

She knew she had overreacted this morning, but she felt she had just cause. She didn’t know him, and her previous neighbors had been a rowdy bunch that she’d had to constantly watch out for. One could hardly blame her for making sure he understood the boundaries.

And there was Autumn to think of.

“Mommy, I’m here.” Autumn skipped into the coffee shop, then stopped when she saw Luke. And promptly burst into tears.

Janie crouched down, taking her little girl into her arms. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

Autumn sniffed, her head buried in Janie’s neck. “Is the dog here?” she asked, the fear in her voice tugging at Janie’s heart and reminding her again why she had cautioned Luke and his dog to stay away from her children.

“No honey. The dog is gone.” She stroked Autumn’s hair, wishing she had taken a bit more time to console her daughter yesterday. She truly thought she was okay.

Luke held up his hands. “Hey. I’m sorry. I had no idea the dog would be so rowdy. But he didn’t hurt her. I saw him.”

Janie gently smoothed the tears from her daughter’s cheeks. “Do you want a pop?”

Autumn sniffed. “I love pop.”

Janie knew. She seldom let her children have it; however, the situation required a bit of sweetening.

“Suzie, can you get Autumn a pop?”

“Can we have one, too?”

“Sure.”

Todd jumped off the table, his interest in Luke trumped by the unexpected treat.

“I’ll get them set up so they don’t make a mess.” Dodie turned her back on Luke as she gave her sister an arch look, which Janie ignored.

“I’m sorry. I can’t get you anything,” Janie said, turning back to Luke.

“Of course not. Can’t be breaking the fourth commandment,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye.

Her surprise must have shown on her face.

“Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy?” he prompted.

“I know the commandment,” she said.

“But you’re surprised that I do?” He effected a hurt look. “I used to go to church you know. You’re not living next door to a perfect heathen.”

“Used to go?” The phrase gave her a surprising sense of sadness.

“Yeah. When I lived with my foster father.”

And didn’t that little phrase create an intriguing hook?

“Mommy, Mommy, I made moose juice.” Todd came running toward her, and Janie turned in time to see him trip over the leg of a table.

With a sense of inevitability, she watched pop arc out of his cup, then drop to the floor in a spectacular splash of reddish brown fluid.

“I’ll get it,” Dodie said, holding up a hand to stop her sister. “Don’t even move.”

But Janie was already on her knees, helping her son to his feet, checking him for pain and injury and trying to avoid the spreading sticky mess.

As she looked up, she caught Dodie smiling at Luke.

And Luke was smiling back.

She was surprised at the tiny hitch of disappointment. She knew this was how it should be. Owen had taught her some hard lessons. She had no right to be harboring any fantasies when it came to men.

She had the responsibility of her children, the emotional detritus of a messy marriage and a divorce. Keeping herself and her family independent of men was the only way to maintain control of her life.

“Mom, I’m sorry I spilled the pop,” Todd said, “but can I have another one?”

Janie glanced at Todd’s stained clothes, then did some quick mental calculations. “Sorry, honey. We have to get back home so you can change, and then I have to take you to Cousin Ethan’s farm right away. Otherwise I’ll be late for Suzie’s dance recital.” If she didn’t get Suzie to her recital, her mother, who had bought front row tickets as soon as they were on sale, would be disappointed. Again.

One step at a time, she reminded herself, doing the deep breathing exercise a friend had taught her the one time she made it to an exercise class. Relax.

Todd acknowledged this with a reluctant nod. “Maybe Cousin Ethan will have some pop for me.”

“Maybe he will.” Janie ruffled his hair, then called out to her sister. “I gotta get going, Dodie. Can you finish cleaning and then lock up?”

The only response she got was a giggle and then a belated, “Sure. I’ll do that.” It seemed Dodie’s full attention was on Luke.

“Bye, Mr. Luke,” Todd called out, tossing Luke a quick wave as Janie ushered them out the door.

“Bye, Todd,” he called out. “See ya, Suzie, Autumn. See you later—”

Janie shut the back door, cutting off the rest of his farewell.

Chapter Three

Luke snapped open his ringing phone and glanced at the number as he spread the blueprint on the hood of his truck one-handed. Unknown name and number. Maybe the supplier he’d been trying to reach for the past few days.

“Hello. Luke here,” he said, glancing at the specs for the electrician.

A pause. A breath, and then, “Hello, Luke. It’s me. Your mom.”

Luke straightened, anchoring the blueprint with one hand as frustration spiraled through him. “Hello, Lillian. Did you get the money?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good.”

“Chuck tells me you’re very busy on the house.”

Uncle Chuck talks too much. “Yeah. I am.”

A family walked past him. Mother holding a little boy’s hand, father pushing the stroller. The perfect family.

Had his mother ever yearned for the same stability he had?

He shoved the thought aside. The only thing his mother had yearned for was another drink, another hit and another guy.

“So, I was thinking I could…maybe…” His mother heaved a sigh. “I wanna see you.”

Luke wondered why she still bothered. The last time she’d asked, like a sucker, he’d agreed. He’d waited an hour, then had gone back to the hotel he’d been staying at. He should have known better. Ever since he’d moved to Al’s, she’d try to visit him at least once a year. And once a year, he’d wait.

“Sorry. I’m busy.”

“Too busy for your mom?”

You don’t know how a mom behaves, Luke thought, glancing at the house beside his. As if his thoughts summoned her, Janie came outside with a watering can, Autumn trailing behind her. Janie pulled a plant from a hook and set it down so her little girl could water it.

That’s what mothers are like, Luke thought, melancholy surging through him.

Janie glanced his way and lifted her hand in a little neighborly wave.

He nodded, still holding on to the blueprint with one hand, his phone with the other. Still holding on to the connection he had with the woman who was his mother, but didn’t know how motherhood worked.

“If you need more money, just say so,” Luke said, wishing he could just hang up.

Silence greeted that remark.

“I gotta go,” he said finally. “If you need anything, please talk to Uncle Chuck.”

“Okay. Bye.”

He waited for her to disconnect, then closed his phone, watching Janie finish the job with her little girl, waiting until they went inside.

He folded up the blueprint and as he walked to his house, he glanced at his watch.

Twenty minutes left. The guys had promised to stay until six-thirty today. He was just about to go inside the house when his phone rang again.

It was his uncle.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asked, a smile on his face. Talking to his uncle was the perfect antidote for the phone call he’d just had.

They made some chitchat. Discussed Luke’s financial situation (okay for now), his girlfriend situation (nonexistent) and then his uncle fell silent.

Luke had a premonition about what was coming next.

“Just talked to Lillian,” Chuck said.

I’m good, Luke thought. “I already gave her the money.”

“I don’t think that’s what she wants, Luke.”

“It’s all she’s ever wanted from anyone.” Even his foster father, Al, had been subjected to Lillian’s pleas for “just a bit of cash to tide me over.”

“I think it would be good for you if you could see her. I think it would be good for her, too. You know the Lord tells us to forgive seventy times seven.”

Luke pressed his index finger to his temple, massaging away a potential headache. “You know, Uncle Chuck? I really think I’ve passed that amount a few years ago.”

“Have you? Have you truly prayed and felt forgiveness for her four hundred and ninety times?”

Chuck’s quiet question raised, once again, the twisted mixture of guilt and anger he felt when he thought of his mother. The anger was justified, and he knew the guilt was misplaced. She had been the one who had left him alone again and again. She had been the one with the false promises each time to turn her life around. He couldn’t give her any more of his time and energy.

Money, though? That he could give her. “Tell her I’m busy. Out of town. Just keep her away from me.”

“I’ll do what you are asking. But I do want you to know I still pray that you and she can come to have some kind of relationship.”

Each time his uncle phoned or e-mailed Luke, it was with the promise that he would pray for his lost sheep nephew and Luke’s mother.

Luke drew in a long, slow breath. “Maybe you could pray I get this house done on time so I don’t lose my initial investment.”

“I keep praying for you, my boy. And not for that house.”

“Thanks, Uncle Chuck. I mean that.” He said goodbye, and as Luke closed his cell phone, he felt again the curious feeling that he had let his uncle down. Luke knew his uncle was disappointed that Luke didn’t go to church and was even more disappointed that he didn’t allow Lillian into his life.

He didn’t know, he thought. He just didn’t know what it had been like. Al had, but Al was gone.

Luke slipped the phone into the holder on his belt and turned his mind back to the house.

“So, what’s next?” Bert sauntered over, his hammer swinging in his belt loop. Cooper trotted alongside him, his attention focused laserlike on the man.

Against Luke’s wishes, Bert had given Cooper half his sandwich at lunchtime, and since then, Cooper had followed him around with unbridled optimism.

Luke’s gaze ticked over the exterior of the house. “I think we’ll start yarding the shingles off the north side of the roof and pray it doesn’t rain.”

“Not a praying man,” Bert said with a grin as he absently petted Cooper’s head. “But I’ll ask the missus. She talks to God from time to time.”

Luke was tempted to ask Bert to ask the missus to put in a good word for him, as well. His uncle’s phone call had reminded him of Todd’s simple comment Sunday morning. And Janie’s surprise that he knew which of the commandments concerned keeping the Sabbath.

In spite of her anger with him and Cooper, he found himself thinking about her and her family quite a bit. Wondered if there was a man somewhere in the picture.

“What in the world is she trying to do?” Bert pointed in the direction of Janie’s house.

The woman, who had just been on Luke’s mind, was perched atop a wobbly wooden ladder that looked more rickety than her porch steps.

“That ladder is going to bust for sure,” Bert said, shaking his head. “We should get her one of ours.”

Luke didn’t want to get involved. The boundaries between the two yards had been laid out enough times for him that crossing them would only prove his idiocy.

He turned back to his blueprints.

“Whoa, that doesn’t look good,” Bert said, clapping his hand on his hard hat.

Luke spun around again in time to see the ladder wobble as Janie caught her balance by hanging on to the gutter with one hand, the other pressed against the wall of the house. The ladder was barely upright, but she managed to get it steadied. The bright yellow bandanna holding her hair back slipped over her eyes, and she let go of the gutter to straighten it. Her white shirt had smudges of dirt, which made Luke wonder what else she’d been doing earlier in the evening.

“Mommy, are you okay?” Todd’s concerned voice was Luke’s undoing. Janie might not like him interfering, but if something happened to her that he could have prevented, especially if it happened in front of her son, he couldn’t live with himself.

“That woman needs help,” Bert said, shaking his head. “Maybe I should head over there—”

“You guys get going on that roof. I’ll bring a ladder over,” Luke said with a sigh of inevitability. “Cooper, stay,” he commanded.

Which of course made Cooper more curious than obedient. And as Luke ran to the fence, Cooper followed.

“Stay here,” Luke commanded, his voice even more stern. He waited until he saw Cooper sit, then climbed the fence crossing the sacred boundary.

But before he could get to Janie, she let go of the gutter and took another step up the ladder.

The step splintered under her weight, her foot came down and she landed on her chest on the top rung. The ladder swayed and would have gone over, if he hadn’t grabbed it, steadied it and pushed it upright.

His heart pounded in his chest. She had come so close to seriously hurting herself.

“Hey, Luke,” Todd called out from the back of the yard where he was sitting on the grass, reading a book. Autumn had been swinging on a swing set that looked as sketchy as the ladder he was holding up. But she stopped, staring at him. “Are you helping my mommy?”

Janie straightened and glanced down. Startled, she said, “I didn’t see you…you should have said…” She took a breath, then caught the gutter again.

“Don’t hang on to that,” Luke said. “It’s not strong enough.”

“Well, I don’t know what else to hang on to.” But she let go and placed both hands on the wall of the house.

“Get down from there. You’re going to do serious damage to yourself,” Luke said.

“Where’s Autumn?” Janie asked, her gaze narrowing as she glanced over at Luke’s yard.

And why was she worried about Autumn when she had just had a near-death experience herself?

Luke followed the direction of her gaze only to see Cooper with his front paws on the top of the teetering fence, watching the scene unfold with avid interest.

“Hey, Cooper. Good to see you,” Todd called out, putting his book down and walking toward the dog.

“Cooper. Down,” Luke called out, not trusting the strength of the fence.

Cooper barked. The fence shook.

And Autumn started to cry.

“Bert, get that dog away from the fence,” Luke called out as Janie clambered down the rest of the ladder, then ran to her daughter’s side to comfort her.

Bert ran over to Cooper and pulled him down. “Should I tie him up?”

Luke sighed. He had just finished cleaning up the yard so that his dog could run free. “Yeah. I guess.”

As Bert pulled a very reluctant Cooper toward the trailer to tie him up, Luke folded up the wooden ladder, surprised to see his hands still shaking.

“What are you doing?” Janie demanded as she carried Autumn to the house. “I’m not done.”

“I’m going to get you a new ladder. This one isn’t safe.” Luke set the ladder on its side. “And then I’m going to be the one going up it to clean the gutters.”

“There’s no need. I was taking care of it.” Autumn wriggled on Janie’s hip, and Janie set her down. “Suzie, can you please come out here and get your sister,” she called out.

“I’m not done with my homework,” Suzie called back from inside the house.

Janie sighed and pressed her fingertips to her temples as if she was holding something back. “Todd, can you take Autumn inside? You can play a game with her if you want.”

Todd, who was hanging over the fence, watching Cooper, reluctantly pulled away and trudged across the yard. He picked up his book, then held out his hand to his sister. “C’mon Autumn. What do you want to play?” he asked as he led her up the porch steps and into the house.

Janie turned back to Luke and gave him a smile that he could only describe as insincerely sweet. “If I could borrow a ladder from you, then I can finish the job and you can get back to your work.”

How convenient. She could borrow his tools, but he couldn’t set foot in her yard.

“I’d hate to disappoint you,” he said, his voice growing chilly, “but you’re not going to finish the job. I’m going to finish the job. Using my ladder.”

“I’m perfectly capable,” she protested, her blue eyes snapping. “I’ve done it before. You don’t need to be here.”

The remnants of the fear he’d experienced when he saw her near miss pushed his guard down.

He took a step closer, his voice growing quiet so the kids couldn’t hear.

“You just about killed yourself in front of your children just a few moments ago.” His anger was building as her eyes narrowed. “If you’re the responsible and concerned mother that you seem to be, then you won’t go anywhere near those gutters.”

Janie’s mouth opened then shut again. She looked like she was on the verge of a coronary, but Luke didn’t care.

“So why don’t you go inside where you’ll be safe from me and my dog,” he continued, pressing his momentary advantage, “and I’ll get the proper tools to do this job.”

Janie opened her mouth once more, but Luke didn’t stick around to hear her tell him again how she could do it herself.

He was halfway across the yard when a thought hit him. Following this hunch, he turned around and walked back to the wooden ladder she was struggling to pick up. Without a word, he took it from her as easily as he would a toy and carried it back to the fence.

“That’s mine,” she called out as he tossed it into his yard. “I got that ladder from my dad. It’s an heirloom.”

He didn’t acknowledge her comments as he hopped the fence but had to laugh at her last comment. Heirloom indeed. Fossil would be more apt.

He strapped on his pouch, grabbed a cordless drill and screws, slipped on his gloves and picked up an aluminum ladder on his way back to Janie’s yard.

He put the ladder over the fence and hopped over again, knowing that this route would give Janie less time to come up with some kind of alternate scheme to keep him away from her precious gutters.

By the time he got back to the house, Janie seemed to have calmed down. She even gave him a smile when he opened up the ladder.

“You know I can—”

“Forget it,” Luke said as he scrambled up the ladder.

The gutter was plugged solid, and it took him a few minutes to pull out all the leaves and mud. They musn’t have been cleaned for years.

While he worked, Janie stayed at the bottom of the ladder, watching. He felt like telling her there was nothing worth stealing up here, not with the shape her roof was in, but he kept his smart comment to himself.

When he was done with this part of the gutters, he fitted the screws to the dilapidated metal and spun them in with the drill.

“You’re going to have to replace these in the next year or so.” He tightened the last of the screws.

“I’m not surprised,” she answered. “How do the shingles look, or do I not want to ask?”

Luke tested the gutter. When he was satisfied, he gave the roof a quick glance. About one-fourth of the shingles were lifting off and curling up. “Bad news there, too.”

“Again. Not surprised.”

What did surprise him was the faint smile curving her lips as he came down the ladder.

He liked the smile better than the glower she had given him a few moments ago.

“I’m sorry about snapping at you before,” she said as he folded up the ladder. “It’s just I think I got a bit of a scare myself when I almost fell.” She sighed as she rubbed her arms, “Anyway, thanks.”

He waved her comment away. “I’m not done yet,” he said picking up the ladder and moving it a few feet over. “There’s a few more yards of gutter to clean.”

“You don’t have to do all that,” she began. Then stopped when he held up his gloved hand yet again. “Okay. Okay. But let me get you something to drink when you’re done. Iced tea okay?”

“Iced tea would be great.”

She nodded and went back into the house. While he worked, he could hear her talking to Todd and Autumn. He heard the refrigerator door open, then the hum of voices and the scent of food, which made his mouth water and made him think of the cold pizza he was going to heat up for supper. A minute later, Janie poked her head out the door. “You still doing okay?”

“Still doing just fine,” he replied.

He felt a moment’s nostalgia as he scraped and cleaned. In the kitchen he could hear Janie talking to the kids, and he wondered about her husband. Did he come home looking forward to being with them? Did the kids run to greet him?

Would he ever experience that?

Now would be a good time to get off the self-pity express. Sure he wanted a family some day. Sure he’d been waiting for that to happen. But it would in time and with the right woman, if he ever settled in one place long enough.

An hour later, he was folding up the ladder when the porch door opened and Janie came out carrying a frosted glass of the promised iced tea.

He stripped off his gloves and as he took the glass, the ice cubes clinked against the side.

“Are you done?” Janie asked, hugging herself against the evening chill settling into the yard.

“Yep. I tightened the hangers on the other side of the house. They should be good for awhile yet.” Luke took a sip of his iced tea then pointed his glass at the swing set. “I think you might want to look at replacing that too.”

Janie frowned as she glanced at the dilapidated set. “It’s okay. I got it from a neighbor.”

“For now. But one of these days Autumn or Todd will fall on their behind when they sit down on it.”

“Well, I don’t think they need another one.”

“Don’t you want to do what’s best for the kids?”

Janie gave him a knowing look. “What’s best for my kids is always first and foremost on my mind. And right now, that swing set is perfectly fine. I wouldn’t have it in my yard if it wasn’t safe.”

Luke merely arched his eyebrows and glanced over at the spot in the fence where he had dumped the ladder.

Janie seemed to know exactly where his mind went. “And I never let the kids on the ladder, in case you must know.”

“I don’t need to know, but it is good to know.”

He gave her a quick smile, pleased to see a glimmer of a smile.

He took another sip of iced tea as he stood on her porch, wondering what she had made for supper that smelled so good. He liked cooking, when he had the time. He just never had much of it—time that was.

Asking would put her in an awkward position. She would never ask him in for supper, and nor should she, so he didn’t broach the subject.

He took another sip of the cool drink, suddenly loath to leave Janie and the house with the kids inside and the sounds and smells of a home surrounding him like a tantalizing dream.

Somewhere down the street someone was barbecuing, and beyond that he heard the muffled buzz of a lawn mower. His thoughts cast back to the precious years he had with Al, the closest he had ever come to real family life.

Cooper’s bark brought him back to the here and now.

He should get going. He looked over at Janie, who was watching him. Then, to his surprise and, he had to admit, pleasure, a flush crept up her neck and she looked down. She pushed a wave of hair back from her face, then reached into the back pocket of her worn jeans. “Thanks again for all your work,” she said, pulling out a handful of bills.

Luke felt as chilled as the ice in his drink. “I don’t want your money.”

“You don’t have to sound so angry. It’s perfectly legitimate to pay someone for doing work.”

“I did it because I wanted to help you out.”

“I don’t want to be in your debt,” she said, pushing the money at him. “This way we’re even.”

Luke knew all he had to do was walk away without taking the money. But he gave that another thought. Janie was an independent sort, that much he’d surmised from the few times he’d spoken to her.

A single mother, beholden, so to speak, to a single man.

Maybe it would be better if he took the money and swallowed his own pride for the sake of hers.

He downed the last of his iced tea and handed her the glass. “I usually charge about thirty bucks an hour for custom work. I put in an hour.”

“That’s too cheap.”

“So now you’re going to dicker over the cost?” He laughed in spite of his frustration with her.

“I just want to be fair.” Her quick smile made him realize he had done the right thing in taking her money. Boundaries and all that.

And he especially appreciated the smile.

“Thirty bucks is more than fair.”

Janie counted out one twenty and two fives.

As Luke pocketed the money, he looked down at the deck. “You might want to have this looked at as well,” he said, pointing with the toe of his heavy work boot at a rotting board.

“I look at it enough,” Janie said, with a feeble laugh. “But thanks again for your help.”

“No problem.” He gathered his tools and walked back toward the fence.

When he was on the other side, he looked back at the house, but she was already inside her house. Safe and cozy with her family.

At least he had Cooper, he thought, bringing the ladder back to the house. The dog was a poor conversationalist but a faithful friend.

He untied Cooper and the dog ran back to the fence as if hoping to find the kids. Once again, he planted his paws on the fence, and Luke watched with a sense of inevitability as the fence gave way and Cooper fell with it.

“Cooper. Come here,” he called, running over to catch the dog before he jumped into Janie’s yard.

He’d just earned some major brownie points with his neighbor. He certainly didn’t want the dog to jeopardize that.

Cooper ran back to him and danced around him, eager to play. Luke felt bad because the poor dog had been tied up again.

Luke picked up a wooden stake and tossed it across the yard. Cooper launched himself after it, his long legs scrabbling for purchase on the ground. He picked it up and ran back dropping it at Luke’s feet.

They kept it up for a few minutes; though Cooper could have gone on until he dropped, Luke was hungry.

He straightened and sent one last look toward the house. He saw two faces looking out from one of the windows of the house. Todd and Autumn.

Todd was smiling, and to Luke’s surprise, Autumn was as well.

He waved and the kids waved back. When Cooper came back to him with the stick, he saw Autumn point at them both, then laugh.

It bothered him that this little girl appeared so afraid of his dog. Cooper had such a good heart and he sensed, given the chance, she might appreciate him as well.

And then he had an idea.

Chapter Four

Carry the two and add four and no matter how she worked it, her amazing plan would require a lot of work. And cash input.

Janie pushed her hands through her hair, wishing away the number on the computer screen of her laptop. She had to have punched something in wrong.

With a sigh, she started checking her figures, fully aware of the ticking clock. She only had a few more minutes before she had to take Suzie to dance practice. But she had to get this right before she brought it to Mr. Chernowyk. She was counting on this audacious plan to shift her financial circumstances.

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