all. Maggie didn’t seem to be having the same problem.
“I used to dream about being a private detective,” she said, and Eli’s eyes grew wide.
“Really?”
“Sure. I read just about every Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys book there was, and I wanted to be a teen detective just like them.”
“Were you one?”
“No. I guess I forgot the dream for a while.” Her smile faltered, and Kane wondered what memories had chased it away.
“So you’re a teacher instead.”
“Training to be one. Speaking of which, I have got some sugar cookies in the kitchen that I need a taste tester for.”
“Taste tester?” Eli seemed intrigued, and Maggie offered him a hand, leading him down the hall.
“Sure. If you like them, then the other kids probably will, and I’ll bring some in for a special treat one day.”
“When I’m back at school?”
“Of course.” Maggie pushed open a door, leading Eli into the room beyond.
Kane followed, feeling like a third wheel. He tried not to let it bother him. Maggie was a familiar face, a caring adult who’d listened to Eli when no one else would. Kane was a distant memory, a faded dream that Eli probably hadn’t been sure was real. A dead man suddenly alive.
Kane would be scared, too, if he were in Eli’s place.
He tried to keep that in mind as he walked into the large kitchen. It was in a state of chaos. New cabinets, new floor, new paint. No countertop. No appliances. A large watermark stained the ceiling, and colorful glass tiles lay on a nicked table. A warped, cracked door let in gusts of cold air, and Kane had a feeling there were other cracks in other doors in the house. In windows. Maybe even in the roof.
Maggie might not want a monetary reward, but it was obvious she could use one.
“Excuse the mess. I’m still in the middle of renovations,” she said as she reached into an upper cupboard, pulled out a package of cookies and offered one to Eli.
“It looks like you’ve done a lot already.” Kane lifted one of the glass tiles, running his finger over the cool, smooth surface. “These are going to look good when they are up.”
“I hope so. It took me forever to pick them out.”
“You’re planning to put them up this weekend?”
“Maybe, but first I’ve got a couple of windows and doors to put in.”
“By yourself?”
“It’s Thanksgiving weekend. My friends are celebrating with family, so that leaves me. If I want to be moved in by Christmas, I’ve got to work whether I have help or not.”
“Why don’t I see if I can hire a contractor to come in and finish the job for you?”
“No.” Her tone was sharp, and she glanced at Eli, who’d already grabbed another cookie from the package. “I appreciate the offer, but I planned to spend the weekend working at my own pace and doing my own thing.”
Kane wanted to argue. He wanted to remind Maggie that he owed her everything and that he’d be more than happy to make sure the entire house was renovated before her Christmas deadline.
Wanted to, but didn’t.
She’d already made her position clear, so he kept quiet as she offered his son one more cookie.
His son.
Here in the room with him.
He’d prayed for this, hoped for it, but there had been a part of him that had given up believing that God would provide the miracle he’d wanted so desperately.
“Want one?” Maggie asked, holding out the cookies, her hand shaking a little.
Was she angry? Nervous? Scared?
Something was bothering her, that much was certain. He wanted to ask what, but Eli hovered a few feet away, slowly chewing his cookie and watching the exchange intently.
“No, thanks.” Kane smiled, hoping to put Maggie at ease.
“I appreciate your bringing me the message about my car. When the tow truck pulled into the driveway, I was sure it was a reporter who’d followed you from the town.”
“And that would have been bad news?”
“That’s one way to put it.” She offered a brief smile. “I don’t suppose you got the name of the tow truck driver?”
“I’m afraid not. Is it important?”
“Probably not.”
“But?”
“But I’d rather not have the news of your visit spread all over town. If Adam was the driver, he won’t say anything to anyone. If he wasn’t…” She shrugged.
“I didn’t come here to cause you trouble, Maggie.”
“You haven’t. I just don’t want any part of the media hype that’s surrounding you. I’ve got a lot to do in the next few weeks, and the last thing I need are reporters camping around my property trying to get a story.” Her voice was light, and Kane almost believed that was all there was to the story.
Almost believed it, but didn’t.
He dealt with secrets every day. Big ones. Small ones. He knew when a person was hiding something, and Maggie was.
Right now, he had no choice but to let her keep her secrets, yet Kane had no intention of letting Maggie suffer because of the part she’d played in bringing Eli home.
“Okay.”
“What do you mean, ‘okay’?” she asked, frown lines marring her forehead.
“Just that you have a right to your privacy. Whatever your secrets are, I’m not going to try to uncover them. But if you’re in trouble because of what you’ve done for my family, I’ll do whatever it takes to help.”
“Are you in trouble, Ms. Tennyson?” Eli asked, the cookie he was holding crumbling in his hand, and Kane could have kicked himself for giving his son more to be anxious about.
“Of course I’m not. Am I, Kane?” She frowned, spearing Kane with a disapproving stare.
“That was just a figure of speech, Eli. Ms. Tennyson isn’t the kind of person to get into trouble.”
Somehow, though, Kane had a feeling she was in trouble.
He wanted to push her for answers, find out what was really going on, but couldn’t. Not with Eli listening. Kane would bide his time, wait until he had a chance to speak to Maggie alone, and then he’d try to get to the bottom
