Sugarplum Homecoming. Линда Гуднайт

Sugarplum Homecoming - Линда Гуднайт


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the worst possible things? Surely, you aren’t going to let your children associate with a woman like her.”

      Davis sucked in a chest full of air and tilted back on his boot heels. Jenny was protective of him and his kids, especially since Cheryl’s death. Besides, hadn’t he thought the same things about Lana?

      “Come on, Jen, that was years ago. Teenagers do crazy things but they grow up.”

      “Maybe. But where has she been all this time? What has she been doing? Why would she come back here where everyone knows about her?”

      “Maybe because she owns a house here?” he said with a hint of sarcasm, hands up and out. “I don’t know.”

      “Don’t risk your children to find out. Stay clear of her, Davis. She’s a bad influence.”

      “Sis. Come on. Chill out. This is not like you. Lana is new in town. Even though she was born here, she’s been gone for years. She’s in my neighborhood.”

      “Which does not mean you have to associate with her. You have plenty of friends.” She put a hand on his arm in a gesture of concern, her eyes worried. “Keep a nice, safe distance. That’s all I’m asking.”

      “Too late for that. Nathan and Paige like her and her little girl. They’re already begging to have Sydney to the house for a sleepover.”

      Jenny’s head dropped backward as she gave an exasperated sigh. “That’s another thing. Lana has a child. I’ll bet you anything she isn’t married. If she’s like she was in high school, she probably doesn’t even know who the father is.”

      Davis’s jaw tightened. He loved his sister and appreciated her help, but she was taking this too far. In a deceptively quiet voice, he said, “Passing judgment, are we, sis?”

      Jenny’s chin went up. Her nostrils flared below pale eyes that arced fire. “Not in the least. Protecting our loved ones from harm is a Christian responsibility. Remember what Dad used to tell us about running with the wrong people? The Bible even warns against ‘casting your pearls before swine.’”

      “Wait a minute. Stop right there.” She was starting to get under his skin. “Are you calling Lana a swine? You don’t even know her.”

      “But I remember her. We had more than one run-in during high school.” Jenny twisted the towel as if wringing Lana’s neck. Or his. “I love your kids. I don’t want them exposed to alcohol and drugs and Lord only knows what else. Do you want them to have a reputation like those awful Ross sisters?”

      “They’re in grade school, for crying out loud! Come on, Jenny. You’re being ridiculous.”

      And she was making him uncomfortable. Hadn’t he struggled with these same, ugly thoughts yesterday? Yet, Lana and her little girl gave no sign of being anything but decent people. Even if they weren’t, didn’t God expect him to show grace and charity?

      But he wanted to protect his children, too.

      While brother and sister stared each other down and Davis wrestled with his thoughts, Nathan and Paige entered the room, followed by seven-year-old twins Charlie and Kent. The boys were apple-cheeked replicas of their dark-skinned father, though Charlie was smaller and wore a pallor lacking in his healthier sibling. Born with a heart defect, he’d had surgery soon after birth but he still took medication and had never been quite as vigorous as Kent. His condition was the main reason Jenny homeschooled. A valve replacement was in his near future, a fact that stressed the whole family, especially Jenny. Because of Charlie’s uncertain health, Davis felt for his sister, but she could make him crazy, too.

      “Ready?” Davis asked, grateful for the interruption to the contentious conversation. He was a peacemaker. Arguments made him miserable. Besides, his sister had enough on her plate. He didn’t want to add to her worries by fighting over a woman neither of them knew that well.

      But he was also a grown man, capable of making his own decisions and caring for his children. He didn’t need his baby sister’s dire warnings.

      “Can we go see Sydney when we get home?” Nathan asked, presenting a cupcake smashed inside a Ziploc bag. “I saved her half of my cupcake.”

      Jenny hissed, her glare burning a hole into her brother. “See?”

      Davis ignored her. “That was really thoughtful of you, son.”

      “Paige saved all of hers for Lana.” Nathan nodded sagely. “She has brown hair.”

      “My cupcake! I almost forgot.” Paige clapped a hand against her forehead. “Wait a minute, Daddy, while I go get it.”

      His little girl hurried out of the room.

      Jenny rolled her eyes at Davis. “Nathan has mentioned brown hair several times today. He even drew a picture of a woman with brown hair. What is that about?”

      Davis shrugged. “Couldn’t say. Why don’t you ask him?” He dropped a hand on his son’s shoulder. “What’s the deal, Lucille? Why are you suddenly obsessed with brown hair?”

      “Because,” Nathan said, his voice exasperated as if Davis should understand. “Me and Paige prayed. God is going to send us a new mom with brown hair.”

      “What?” Davis exchanged stunned glances with his sister. This did not sound good.

      “Don’t you see, Daddy?” Nathan stretched his small arms wide, the smashed cupcake dangling in its bag. “After we prayed, Lana moved into the haunted house. Get it?”

      A slow dawning broke through Davis’s thoughts. “Was that why you climbed up Whisper Falls? To pray for a new mom with brown hair?”

      Nathan slapped a hand over his mouth. “I wasn’t supposed to tell. Paige says we have to let God do the work. We’re just His helpers.”

      Davis squeezed the small shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

      The kids had prayed. Lana Ross had moved in. She was single—and she had brown hair.

      Naturally, their wild imaginations would take over and assume Lana was God’s answer.

      He raised his eyes from his son’s dejected body to his sister’s face.

      “This is already getting out of hand, Davis.”

      He dragged a hand down his face and felt the rough dryness of tile glue still stuck to his fingers. “No kidding.”

      Jenny touched his arm. “Promise me you’ll be careful, okay? You know what she is even if they don’t. These kids have been hurt enough.”

      Davis’s belly took a nosedive.

      How could he argue with that?

      * * *

      Lana drove through the quiet, lazy town of Whisper Falls—past the train depot in the center town circle, past the Tress and Tan Salon, Jessup’s Pharmacy, Aunt Annie’s Antiques, and nearly drooled at the delights in the window of the Sweets and Eats candy store. The town didn’t look as tired and run-down as it had when she’d left, when it had been Millerville.

      “Look, Lana.” Sydney, on the passenger side of the car, whipped her head toward Lana, eyes widened. “Sorry. I meant Mom.”

      Though Lana had been Sydney’s primary caregiver most of her life, she’d never usurped Tess’s title as Mom. Until now.

      “You understand why it’s important that everyone believe you’re my daughter, don’t you, peanut?”

      Sydney nodded. “So I don’t have to go to foster care.”

      “That’s the gist of the matter. But if you slip up and say my name instead, we’ll just pretend that’s the way we do things. Okay?”

      Pretending—or more accurately, lying—bothered Lana. She’d promised the Lord to change her bad habits but shading the truth was for Sydney’s protection. Surely,


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