the damage done to her life almost fifteen years ago was something that could never be done. Not even God could change what was past.
The bell over the door chimed. A customer, she wondered, or Spence back from the meeting that was probably cancelled?
“You’d better go see who that is,” Ava commented as she laboriously struggled to slip a paperback book onto the shelf, obviously too busy to check on the possible customer.
What was up with her? Katherine glanced around the aisle and the book she held slid from her fingers. As the book hit the floor, the thud sounded just like her heart stuttering in shock. There was Jack Munroe, broad-shouldered and substantial, with a vase of white rosebuds cradled in his big, capable-looking hands.
That Ava. She must have spotted him getting out of his car. Really. “Hello, there. How are things working out with your daughter?”
“Better. She’ll be grounded for about the next decade or so. Nothing major.” He handed over the roses along with a striking half grin. “These are for you, to say thank you. I owe you an apology. I’m sorry I was such a…well, I can’t say it in polite company.”
“Please, don’t worry. It was understandable given the circumstances.”
“You’re generous to say that. Needless to say, I don’t take criticism of my daughter very well.”
“I wasn’t criticizing her. Just trying to set things right.”
“I know that.”
She had to move closer to accept the bouquet, close enough to notice that Ava was right. No wedding ring. She also noticed how the green and gold threads in his dark-brown irises softened the gaze that had seemed so imposing last night. Laugh lines added character to his face.
Not that she should be noticing. Not that she wanted to.
Katherine breathed in the sweet old-fashioned roses’ scent. It was hard to dislike a man bearing flowers—from both him and Hayden, obviously. “Thank you. This was thoughtful of you.”
He smiled, a full-fledged one that made those threads in his eyes glint. Very nice. She snapped away, focusing her energy on setting the vase on the front counter instead of feeling the effects of that smile.
Where was Ava? Katherine had the feeling that her sister, with her matchmaking thoughts, was spying through the book stacks. Really.
Katherine did her best to appear unaffected, because of course, she was. “How is Hayden doing?”
“Mad at me. Mad at you. But I think that’s a teenage thing. She’s probably angriest at herself.”
“Probably.”
“I got a hold of your pastor friend this afternoon. She said you’d already called and told her about Hayden wanting to join the youth group’s project at the shelter. She didn’t know anything about the shoplifting problem.”
“I didn’t feel like it was my place to tell her. Everyone makes mistakes, especially teenagers.”
Her words of compassion struck him like a sucker punch to the chest. His first impression of this woman had been way off base. Out in left field. He didn’t know how to tell her that. Didn’t know if he should.
“I’ve been friends with Marin forever. She has all kinds of youth-group activities and projects going on all the time, not just with the shelter. Hayden will love her, I promise.”
“I believe you.” How had she gotten past his defenses so easily? Jack rubbed the back of his neck, puzzled and, he had to admit, intrigued. “You’ve done a good thing for my girl. I know you’re thinking, That man and his kid are a mess. But I’ve been trying to right this boat for a while. Hayden’s a good kid.”
“I saw that in her. That she’s good, without a doubt.”
There it was again, that compassion, lovely and kind. Katherine was a striking woman, but with her heart gentle in her eyes, he felt captivated. A strange emotion dazzled through him, and it felt like first light on a bleak winter’s morning, changing everything.
Remember, Jack, you don’t like this woman. Correction: you don’t want to like this woman. He scrubbed his hand over his eyes. What had they been talking about? That’s right, Hayden. “She’s a real good kid. Used to be. Is. Things haven’t been smooth for a long time, but this—this shoplifting thing—is the first serious problem we’ve had. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
“Believe me, I’m not casting stones.”
“It’s a little hard for you not to. She stole from you.”
“True. But she wouldn’t be the first shoplifting teenager in this store. She won’t be the last.”
How could he have gotten it so wrong? This woman wasn’t high and mighty, she wasn’t righteous and judgmental. She was amazing. And if he stood here one second longer and kept this conversation going, then he was going to make a huge mistake. She’d done it again, gotten beneath his defenses. He was just about to open up and talk about his life and the part of himself he kept under tight lock and key.
But opening up just made a man vulnerable. So he had one option, and one option only. Time to get out of Dodge while he could. Time to escape before he started thinking that if and when he tried dating again, he’d look for a woman like this one.
Maybe this one.
Nope, he just couldn’t see Katherine saying yes to a date with him. She’d turn him down flat. His life was a mess; he knew it. He was no prize, plenty of women he’d dated had said it.
To save what dignity he had left, he headed out into the wind and storm. It was abrupt, probably came across as rude, but he’d done the best he could.
Once inside his cruiser, as he let the engine warm and the fog clear from the windshield, he could see her inside the store, going about her work. There was something about the way she moved with unconscious grace. The way she stopped to tuck a strand of her light blond hair behind one ear, and it was an utterly feminine gesture.
He missed the gentleness of a woman in his life. Katherine McKaslin made him remember a time when he hadn’t been so isolated. When he’d been a man unjaded by life and believing in love’s illusions.
Yep, buddy, it’s best to just keep on going.
So he put the car in Reverse, backed away from the curb and didn’t stop until the bookstore disappeared from his rearview mirror. Until there was just blinding snow behind him and a long, lonely night’s work ahead.
Katherine knew what her sister was going to make of it. The moment the back door swung open, she braced for the worst. She was about to get hit with double barrels.
Aubrey, Ava’s twin and mirror image, rushed down the devotionals aisle. “Are those the flowers? You were so totally right, Av. White roses. Talk about classy.”
Behind the cash register, Katherine tried to take the kidding with the love it was meant. “Nothing says thank you like white roses, don’t you think? It’s a thank-you, girls, not a sign of romance.”
