Lakeside Sweethearts. Lisa Jordan
dipping her toes in the water.
“We?” He loved the way she teamed with him, but this was his family’s problem. She had her own issues to work out.
“I have a stake in this now, too, you know.” She bumped her shoulder against his.
Right, the cottage.
The sunlight dripped across the top of her head, catching the ginger glints in her hair and shading her face. She appeared to be sixteen instead of thirty-six.
His thoughts drifted back a couple of decades and remembered their almost daily talks on the docks. Seemed that no matter what the problem was, they could work it out sitting here with their feet in the water. If only things could be resolved as simply now.
He reached for her hand and laced his fingers through hers, squeezing gently. “This is not your problem, Red.”
She lifted their joined hands and kissed his knuckles before releasing her fingers. “Your daddy will come around.”
He loved the feel of her lips against his skin. He’d take the knuckle kiss for now, but one of these days he hoped for the chance to feel her lips on his. And not in the name of friendship either.
“How about if I pay Pete a visit and see if I can talk to him?”
He scowled at her. The woman didn’t listen. “No, Red. You’re not fighting my battles.”
“Don’t be a fool, Ian.” She dipped her hand in the water and flicked his face. “Maybe Pete just needed to be reminded about the power of second chances.”
Ian jerked as the icy drops landed on his hot skin. He wiped his eyes with the hem of his shirt. “How can restoring my family be pulling us apart?”
Agnes lifted her feet out of the water and stood. She brushed off the back of her dress, then reached for her sandals. “Like you said yesterday—sometimes it takes peeling away the layers to find the promise for the future.”
Chapter Four
Agnes parked her restored 1964 Dodge Dart convertible in front of the James family cabin by the lake, shut off the engine and tossed her scarf onto the red vinyl passenger seat. She slid out from behind the wheel and slammed the door, the sound echoing along the hillside.
The afternoon wind stirred the pines, maples and oaks cradling the cabin. The upturned leaves and air saturated with humidity signaled rain close at hand.
She crossed the gravel parking area and faced the log cabin that had been in the James family for over one hundred years.
Decades of sunshine aged the hand-cut logs to a weathered gray. She climbed the three wide steps, passed the black rocker by the door and lifted the duck-shaped door knocker on the russet-stained pine door.
“It’s open,” a deep voice boomed from inside.
Agnes opened the door and sucked in a breath tinged with paint solvent and coffee. “Hey, Pete.”
Pete James glanced over his shoulder, then turned back to the large canvas resting on a wooden easel standing in front of the window facing the lake. “Agnes Joy, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
Dressed in khaki shorts and a red T-shirt, he held a splattered palette in one hand and brandished crimson paint against the canvas like an expert swordsman. He wore a James & Son Insurance baseball hat backward on his head, covering his cropped salt-and-pepper hair.
Agnes crossed the hardwood floor and dropped a kiss on his whiskered cheek. “Ian’s caught up with a client and asked if I’d swing by and pick up Griffin for him. They’re leaving for Vanderfield in about forty-five minutes.”
“Bubba’s in the yard, playing fetch with Amos.” He nodded toward the window where Griffin threw a yellow tennis ball overhand. The golden retriever leaped in the air and caught the ball in his strong jaws.
“Missed you at Mama’s birthday yesterday.”
“Give Mary my best.” He offered no other explanation for his absence. Instead he continued to paint.
“What are you working on?”
“Cowboy in a canyon. Trying to steal as much natural light as I can before the cloud cover takes it away.”
“It’s quite muggy out there.”
“Rain’s in the forecast.”
She didn’t come to talk about the weather. Picking up Griffin was a decent excuse to try and get Pete to see some reason. Her nerves cinched the loose knot in her stomach.
“Pete, when we moved to Shelby Lake, you helped Daddy dry out, giving us a second chance at being a real family.”
“Agnes Joy, I love your company, but if my family sent you to change my mind, you’d best grab Bubba and head on your way.”
Just like Pete to speak his mind.
“Are you kidding? If Ian knew I was talking about this, he’d be madder than a wet hen. I’m just saying without you, Daddy would’ve struggled to stay sober.”
“Chuck was tougher than you think, Agnes.” Pete set down his brush to reach for his coffee cup. “The choice was his.”
“Agape House can be the second chance Zoe needs to turn her life around—like my daddy did.” Agnes pressed her back against the windowsill, enjoying the warm air whispering across her neck. “How can you turn your back on your daughter?”
“Ever hear of tough love, Agnes?”
“There’s tough love, and there’s rejection.”
She spied a stack of canvases leaning below the window. Without asking for permission, she flipped through them, stopping at the last one that showed two sets of hands—larger ones cupping a smaller set that held a butterfly. Recognizing the wing-shaped birthmark on the smaller hand, Agnes realized Pete had painted Zoe’s hands.
Oh, Pete...
Staring at the canvas, Pete wiped his hands on a rag, then walked to the window. With his back to her, he stared out at the trees and the lake.
“When I was a little older than Bubba, my parents died on Christmas Eve because they were too drunk to drive and decided to walk home. Instead they passed out in a snowbank and froze to death. No matter how many times they promised to change, they didn’t. Made me realize words were meaningless without actions to back them up.”
“Oh, Pete, I can’t even imagine.” Tears filled Agnes’s eyes. “You were a kid—you couldn’t have changed your parents. But you can help others get their lives back on track now.”
Pete whirled around, his eyebrows raised and his lips thinned. “People don’t change, Agnes. They tell you what you want to hear. Then the minute temptation strikes, they’re back to screwing up their lives again. Char and Ian will pour themselves into that place only to end disappointed when those women fall back into their old habits.”
“Give your family this chance to prove Zoe can turn her life around.”
“And when she doesn’t? What then? She’ll end up back behind bars, but she will have destroyed my wife, my son, my grandson...I can’t take that chance. I need to protect them.”
“How much protecting are you doing by holing up here instead of trying to work things out with your wife?”
A muscle jumped in the side of Pete’s jaw. He looked at her. “When did you get so sassy?”
“I’ve always been sassy, Pete. Much to my mama’s shame. You’re scared...nothing wrong with admitting it. Just don’t let that fear keep you from missing out on the incredible blessings God has in store for your family. I promise you—that’s one regret you will be responsible for.”
Amos barked from the porch a second before Griffin flung open the screen