The Matchmaking Pact. Carolyne Aarsen
could try to get some from him.”
Silas rubbed his forehead. “He’s only selling it for reconstruction or building new homes.”
“If you can wait two weeks, I’ll get you what you need from Manhattan.”
“I guess that’ll have to do.”
As he was talking, Lily came downstairs, dragging her backpack behind her, a brightly colored gift bag swinging from her other hand.
While he talked he wiped a spot of toothpaste from the corner of Lily’s mouth, then patted her on the head.
“Thanks again, Orville. I gotta run.” He snapped the phone shut and slipped it into his belt holster. “Did you really brush your teeth this morning or only rinse with toothpaste again?”
“I brushed.”
Silas frowned at her ponytail, hanging askew from the back of her head.
Kelly would have put their daughter’s copper-colored hair into tight, fat braids, finished off with ribbons.
But Kelly wasn’t here and his clumsy fingers couldn’t recreate the intricate twists that had come so easily to his wife’s slender fingers. So Lily did her own hair. Today it looked as if she hadn’t even brushed it.
“We gotta get going.” He glanced at the festive bag she was carrying. “What you got there?”
Lily gave him a secretive smile. “You’ll find out.”
“Okay. Secrets. Very intriguing.”
The drive into town was quiet. Silas was lost in his thoughts, the only sound in the truck the ticking of gravel on the undercarriage and the nasally twang of the announcer from the early-morning stock market report on the radio. He had a lot to do in the next few weeks and the time was slipping through his fingers.
“Dad, can we have a puppy?” Lily’s voice broke into the quiet.
“A puppy?” Where in the world had that come from? “I’ve got enough trouble keeping you groomed and fed.” He tossed Lily a grin, just to show he was kidding.
“But a puppy would keep me company. When you’re busy.”
“I’m not that busy, honey.”
“You’re outside all the time and when you’re not, you’re on the computer. And I hate watching television.”
That sent a shot of guilt through him. Kelly had hated television, too, and had limited how much Lily watched. But television kept Lily occupied and out of his hair while he worked.
“Why can’t I go to the after-school program instead? With my friend Alyssa?” Lily clutched the shiny bag that Silas suspected held a present for that same friend.
“Because, honey” was all he would say.
He couldn’t explain to her the sheer terror he had felt when he’d seen the funnel cloud touch down in High Plains, knowing she was there instead of on the farm where she’d have been safe.
A thousand images of Lily hurt, or worse, had sliced through his head on that panicked trip into town. He’d even been tempted to pray.
Which was foolishness, of course. God hadn’t heard the countless prayers he and Lily had sent up for Kelly during her battle with cancer. When he and his sobbing daughter had stood by her graveside, Silas had promised himself he wouldn’t waste God’s time anymore.
“I miss seeing Ms. Josie,” Lily put in, still campaigning.
“Miss Cane let you and Alyssa take off after the tornado. She’s not responsible.”
That Lily had been found safe was no thanks to Miss Cane, who had let her and her friend slip out in the first place.
Lily sighed again. “I hate sitting by myself at home, Daddy.”
More guilt piled onto his shoulders.
“It was Alyssa’s idea to sneak out when we had that tornado, you know.”
“Which is another reason you shouldn’t be hanging around with Alyssa.” This conversation was well-tilled ground. But his daughter was persistent and each time approached it from another angle as if hoping to unearth some new argument to convince him.
“But she’s my twin friend. And she has a really pretty aunt.”
Silas wasn’t about to dispute the pretty-aunt part of her statement. Josie Cane was the kind of woman who would make any man look twice and then again. Tall with blond hair rivalling ripe Kansas grain and a smile inviting a response.
And a reputation that preceded her.
It was a good thing he wasn’t looking and he wasn’t interested. The long, slow loss of his wife, Kelly, had squeezed his heart to nothing. When the first clumps of dirt were dropped on her coffin, his heart had closed like a fist on his memories and his pain. He hadn’t talked about Kelly nor encouraged Lily to do the same. He was tired of hurt and pain.
“Doesn’t matter how pretty she is.” Silas made his voice gruff to show Lily he was serious. “I want you home.”
Where I can make sure you’re safe, he added to himself.
“But Alyssa told me that Ms. Josie is doing baking at the church. For the workers who are building the town again. Ms. Josie said we all have to do our part and I want to help, too. I want to learn how to bake, then I can make cupcakes and muffins, like Mommy used to.”
In spite of the sadness the memories brought, Silas had to smile. Kelly was wonder and joy and love, but she was no baker. Each attempt created a potential health hazard.
“And I won’t be so lonely after school when you’re doing all your work,” she continued, her voice growing earnest. “And you won’t have to keep checking on me. Ms. Josie said she’d gladly take me back again.”
Silas was wavering. He had a ton of work to do today and he had already been juggling his timelines, trying to figure out how he was supposed to stop what he was doing in time to pick Lily up from school every day. Since the tornado, he’d been driving her back and forth instead of letting her take the school bus.
“Oh, look, someone is working on the roof of the Old Town Hall.” Lily pointed out her window as they turned onto Main Street. “Ms. Josie said people want it ready for Christmas. For Founders’ Day. Ms. Josie said it will be a healing celebration.”
“Ms. Josie obviously says a lot of things,” Silas muttered, glancing in the direction Lily pointed. The sight of the half-finished building sent the same pang through him that he had felt when he first saw the destruction of the Old Town Hall. He and Kelly had been married there.
He pushed the memory back. Rebuilding the Old Town Hall seemed a waste of time. The old could never be replaced. It wouldn’t be the same. All those memories were best left gone with the building when it was destroyed.
“What is Founders’ Day?” Lily asked, suddenly animated. “Is that when people who lost things find them again? Like the place they set up for people who lost stuff after the tornado?”
Silas chuckled at her description. “No, honey. I heard it has something to do with the friendship of the two men who started this town, a Mr. Logan and a Mr. Garrison.”
“Like Reverend Garrison? Who works at the church?”
“He’s a relative.”
“Reverend Garrison is a nice man.” Lily sighed. “Alyssa always goes to church on Sunday to hear him preach. I wish we could go again.”
Silas made no comment to that as he turned the truck in to the school parking lot. Since Kelly died, he had stayed away from church and God. Just keeping the boundaries marked off. God: up there and silent. Him: down here and busy. Never the two shall meet.
Silas parked the truck, pulled off his seat belt and turned