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 off the truck.
“Don’t get out of the truck yet, Daddy,” Lily said, grabbing his arm.
Silas, his hand already on the handle, stopped, shooting his daughter a frown. “Why not?”
“I have something for you.” She scooted across the seat and threw her arms around her father’s neck. “Happy birthday, Daddy,” she said, adding a noisy kiss. Then she gave him the bag she’d carried into the truck.
As he took the bag he felt a jolt of all-too-familiar guilt. She had remembered his birthday. Had planned for it.
He remembered how he had completely forgotten hers.
“Why, honey—” He swallowed down a surprising knot of pain. “Thank you. What is it?”
“You’re supposed to open it and find out.” Lily sat back with a self-satisfied grin.
Puzzled, Silas pulled out the package wrapped in a plastic grocery bag. When he unwrapped the framed picture, he did a double take.
Why had his daughter given him a picture of Josie Cane?
He masked his confusion and gave Lily a careful smile. “Thanks, honey. This is an interesting present.”
“I got the picture from Alyssa for my birthday. And I think you need to have a picture of someone in your bedroom again. Like you used to have of Mommy.”
The woman smiling back at Silas from the picture looked as if she was laughing at a secret joke, her long blond hair blowing away from her face. Her eyes held a hint of mischief, which made Silas think the stories about Josie’s wild past held some truth.
“That’s very nice. Thank you, Lily.” He put the picture back in the bag, but didn’t tell his daughter there was no way he was filling the spot that once held a picture of his beloved wife with a picture of this woman.
Lily sat back in her seat, her arms hugging her backpack, obviously not ready to leave yet. “Do you think she’s pretty?”
“As pretty as she needs to be.”
“I like Ms. Josie.”
He gathered that. “I’m sure she’s very nice.”
“And she’s a good teacher.”
She gave him a sweet smile, which immediately made him suspicious. “I want to go to the after-school program again, Daddy. Can I? Please?”
Bingo. Silas heaved a sigh, marveling at her persistence. “We’re not talking about that now, Lily.”
Lily glanced over her shoulder again. “Can you please walk me to the school?”
Where did that come from? She was usually out the door and down the sidewalk before the truck rolled completely to a stop. Now she wanted him to walk her to the door?
“Of course.” He got out, still puzzled.
The banging of hammers from various parts of town competed with the whine of saws as he walked around the truck to where Lily waited. Work was going on all over town, still repairing the damage from the tornado.
Thankfully the school had been spared the worst of the damage and classes hadn’t been interrupted.
“Lily. Hi.” A little girl’s voice called out over the noise in the town just as Silas caught up with his daughter.
He turned and came face-to-face with a young girl holding the hand of the woman whose framed photo lay faceup on the seat of his truck. He shot a quick glance at his truck, wondering if Josie would have seen it as she walked past.
“Good morning, Mr. Marstow,” Josie said.
“Ms. Cane.”
Her
