“Do you need some help?” Gin asked. “Raine and I can go with you.”
“No, stay here. Eat pizza. It shouldn't take me very long.” Evie grabbed her cardigan off the back of the chair. “Your grandparents will be here tomorrow afternoon, Cody. I invited them to the rehearsal dinner.”
“Are they staying with you?”
Not us.
You
. The footings under Evie's heart shifted again. Cody hadn't physically moved into the house that Dan's parents had offered to rent to him and Raine, but in Cody's mind he'd already left.
“Grandma said it will be easier if they stay at the bed-and-breakfast.”
Based on past experience, Evie knew what Betty really meant was that it would be easier on
them
.
She glanced at Dan and saw the smile in his hazel eyes change to concern. More than anyone, he knew her relationship with her former in-laws had been strained since Max died. Well, maybe
strained
wasn't quite the word.
Nonexistent
would be a better choice.
Evie understood that everyone grieved differently, but it seemed like the Bennetts had simply decided not to do it at all.
After Max died, Neil and Betty sold his childhood home and moved across the country. Unlike Evie's parents, missionaries to Uganda who could only fly back to the United States once every four or five years, Betty and Neil had the time and money to return to Wisconsin for regular visits. But coming back to Banister Falls meant accepting the fact that Max was really gone. Annual Christmas cards and a phone call on Cody's birthday became a substitute for being part of their grandson's life, which was why Evie was a little shocked when Betty called to let her know they planned to attend the wedding.
“I took the day off tomorrow.” Dan followed her to the door. “Do you need help with anything? I can set up tables and chairs in the fellowship room. String up those little white lights you bought.”
Dan didn't ask out of habit; helping people was embedded in the Moretti family's DNA. But out of habit, Evie almost said yes. She'd depended on Dan over the yearsâmaybe more than she should haveâbut the friendship she and Ginevieve had was new too. Fragile. Evie didn't want to put any additional strain on it.
“I left Harvey some notes before I took vacation time, and I'm sure he's got everything covered. You don't want to start a turf war.” She looped the strap of her purse over one shoulder and looked at Gin. “Thank you for inviting me over. It was . . . fun.”
“Then we'll have to do it again sometime.” Laughter kindled in Gin's light-green eyes, proof that Evie hadn't fooled her a bit.
“Bye, Mom.” Cody loped over and pulled her into a hug. “I'll see you later.”
Evie patted his back, oh so careful not to cling. “Don't forget to pick up your suit tomorrow at two o'clock.”
“I'll remind him,” Raine sang out.
Evie knew thatâbut it didn't prevent her vision from becoming as blurry as her place in Cody's life.
Everything was changing so rapidly she could hardly keep up, let alone get in front of it. After the honeymoon, Cody would be living with Raine in a house on the other side of town. Creating a home of their own. A
life
of their own.
There were times Evie didn't even recognize her son anymore. It seemed like only a minute ago he'd been chasing Diva, their golden retriever, around the house in his footie pajamas, and now he was going to be a husband. A father.
A firefighter. Like
his
father.
Evie hadn't seen that coming any more than she'd seen Cody falling in love with Raine. Or maybe she hadn't wanted to see it.
Maybe the only thing she'd wanted to see was the future that she'd imagined for her son.
A future a little safer, a little more secure, than the one Max had chosen . . .
A dog lunged from the shadows of the trailer next door as Evie walked to her Jeep. Heart pounding, she quickened her steps and slid into the driver's seat as its owner snarled a reprimand through the screen door. Plastic garbage bags waiting for pickup lined both sides of the road that cut through the trailer park, overriding the sweet scent of the late June breeze, and Evie rolled up her window.
At least Cody and Raine wouldn't be living on Fifth Avenue after they got married. And if Dan got his way, Evie suspected Ginevieve wouldn't be living there much longer either.
She drove down Main Street, following a familiar set of landmarks to Hope Community.
The parking lot, a patchwork of asphalt squares that had grown in direct proportion to the building over the years, was empty. Most of the scheduled activitiesâthe kids' club program, youth group, and adult Bible studiesâtook place on Wednesday evenings. Unless there was a meeting or special event, the building remained vacant for the remainder of the week.
Evie parked behind the building and unlocked the door that opened into the fellowship room. At the end of the hallway, a seam of light glowed underneath the door of the custodian's room.
Harvey Kinnard lived in an apartment complex just down the street, and it wasn't unusual for him to work late if there was something specific that needed his attentionâor if he wanted to watch a Brewers game on the big-screen television in the youth wing.
Evie cut through the kitchen to the walk-in storage closet.
The air-conditioning unit began to hum as she flipped on the overhead light and scanned the rows of plastic bins that lined
the shelves, each one color-coded to represent a different event the women's ministry team had hosted over the years.
When she picked out the antique brass lanterns and ivory tulle for their last conference, she never dreamed she'd be recycling them as centerpieces for Cody's wedding reception.
Cody's
wedding
reception
.
God . . .
Evie's prayer, like so many others lately, trailed into silence after the opening beat. She tried to give it some momentumâreciting verses she'd memorized, singing bits of a praise chorusâbut they couldn't seem to get past the knot of . . . of
something
that had lodged in her heart over the past few months.
She couldn't label it. And because she couldn't label it, she had no idea what to do with it.
Candles. Floral arrangements. Those were so much easier.
Evie heard the soft tread of footsteps as she reached for one of the bins. “It's just me, Harvey. I'm checking the decorations for the reception.”
Silence.
Evie glanced over her shoulder and the air emptied from her lungs. A man stood in the doorway. A shadow of stubble, several shades darker than the tawny hair brushing the frayed collar of his denim shirt, accentuated his lean, chiseled features. Slashes of black paint stood out like graffiti against faded, loose-fitting jeans.
Silver-gray eyes locked on Evie, holding her in place. “I remember you.”
Evie remembered him too.
He'd been standing in the shadows that other night too. Holding a baseball bat.
T
here were times Jack Vale wished he still believed in coincidence.
This was definitely one of them.
How many people lived in Banister Falls? Six . . . eight thousand? How many churches were scattered throughout the city limits? At least half a dozen?
But here
she
was. Looking at him with those incredible blue eyesâyeah, Jack remembered those tooâlike
he
was the one who was trespassing.
Now they were even.
Because the first time they'd met, Jack had assumed the people sneaking around Travis's backyard were two of the neighborhood's friendly drug dealers, taking their party right to his brother's door.
So, yes, he'd confronted them . . . but Jack hadn't realized they were women until they'd turned around and the porch light illuminated their faces. And
they
probably hadn't realized that the baseball bat resting in the crook of his arm was more of a prop, meant to emphasize Jack's opinion of their presence, than an actual threat.
“What are you doing here?” She glanced at the purse on the floor between them. A cell phone sprouted from a pocket in the side.
He could practically
see
her dialing 911.
“Look . . . I'm sorry if I startled you.” Jack raised his hands, slowly. Smiled.
See, no bat. No weapon of any kind.
“I heard a noise and thought I should check it out.”
Usually a smile put people at ease. Not Blue Eyes.
“Check it . . . How did you get inside?” Her expression didn't change, but Jack heard the undercurrent of tension in her voice. “The church is closed.”
“I work here. I'm the custodian.”
“The custodian.” She took a step closer to her purse.
Not quite the reaction he'd expected.
It suddenly occurred to Jack that he might look a little . . . rough. Pauline, the church secretary, had told him there was nothing going on at Hope Community on Thursday nights, so he hadn't bothered to change clothes after he'd worked on his brother's car. Hadn't bothered to shave off a two-days' growth of beard either.
“Just for a few weeks.” It might be a good time to start dropping names. “Harvey was called out of town for a family emergency, so Pastor Keith hired me right before he left for a conference.”
“He hired
you
?”
In all fairness, Jack had been kind of surprised too.
“You can call the secretary. Pauline put me on the payroll.” Jack started to extend his hand but changed his mind when he saw the grease from Travis's carburetor still trapped underneath his fingernails. “Jack Vale.”
“Evie . . .” She hesitated a moment, but at least it looked like she was finally starting to believe him. “Bennett.”
“Bennett.” The name sounded familiar. Familiar because Jack remembered seeing it on the door of one of the offices he'd vacuumed earlier in the week. “You work here too?”
One coincidence, God. Just one. That's all I'm asking for.
“I'm the director of women's ministries.”
Jack wasn't sure what a director of women's ministries
did
, but he knew what it meant. Evie Bennett wasn't just a member of the congregation. She had the power to get him fired.
Jack's gaze swept over her, taking in the crisp white shirt and the khaki pants that tapered down to trim ankles.
Evie looked as put-together as her office, with its pastel furniture and watercolor prints featuring peaceful landscapes with coordinating verses of scripture, artistically arranged on the pale-green wall behind her desk.
Jack supposed there were some women who would find the room a comfortable, inviting place to pour out their hearts. But not someone like Cheryl, who'd be afraid that what was in
her
heart would permanently stain the fabric on one of Evie Bennett's dainty, little chairs.
He'd tried to tell his sister-in-law about forgiveness and grace, but Cheryl viewed God as some kind of heavenly parole officer glaring down at her from heaven, ready with a lightning bolt if she made another mistake. At least that was a starting point. Travis refused to acknowledge God's existence at all.
“I've been on vacation all week,” Evie said, yanking Jack from the shadowy detour that his thoughts had started to take him down. “Will Harvey be back by this weekend?”
“By the weekend . . . no.” At least Jack hoped not. He needed this job. Not only for the income it provided, but as an excuse to stay in Banister Falls a little longer. “Pastor Keith told me it would be about a month.”
“A month.”
For the first time, Jack saw a ripple in the calm blue waters of Evie Bennett's eyes. “Is something wrong?”
“
You're
the one in charge of getting everything ready for the wedding on Saturday?”
Well, that explained the ripple. As the director of women's
ministries, Evie was probably in charge of special events at the church.
“The secretary did mention something about a wedding.” Jack couldn't resist teasing her a little. But once again, it seemed to have the opposite effect.
“Didn't you see the notes I left in Harvey's office?”
By “office” Jack figured Evie was referring to the oversize utility closet adjacent to the furnace room. And her “notes,” the grid of Post-its perfectly aligned above the shelf of cleaning supplies.
“I saw them.” Fluorescent pink was pretty hard to miss. “I took care of everything marked Tuesday and Wednesday, and I was just finishing up the list”âthe very detailed listâ“for today. I've got everything under control.”
Evie didn't look exactly reassured as she reached down and scooped up her purse. “I . . . if you'll excuse me, I have to carry some things out to my car.”
“I can do it.” Jack went to reach for one of the plastic bins, but she beat him to it.
“That's all right. I . . . I really don't need any help.”
The rigid set of Evie's shoulders, the way she averted her eyes, translated the words more accurately.
I really don't want
your
help.
Okaaaay . . . message received.
Jack backed into the hallway, giving her some space. “I'll have everything else ready by Saturday afternoon.”
If he still had a job by then.
E
vie heard a thump when she let herself into the house.
The soft but unmistakable sound of four paws connecting with the floor. A moment later, Diva peeked around the corner.
Evie clucked her tongue in mock disapproval. “You know you aren't supposed to be on the sofa.”
The golden retriever padded up to her, head down, plumed tail wagging in repentance.
“I'm surprised you can even jump up there anymore.” Evie bent down and rubbed the dog's snow-white muzzle. “What do you say we make a batch of popcorn and watch a movie until Cody comes home? Girls night part two. Minus the karaoke.”