Genesis: A Harte's Peak Prequel (9 page)

“I guess you're lucky to have your in-laws.”

Maggie opened her mouth to answer when Lexi poked her head outside. “I'm starving, if anyone cares.”

“It will be just a few minutes, Lex,” Maggie said, and something shifted in her expression

For the few minutes he'd heard Maggie unburden her heart to him, he'd been transfixed. Something about this woman made him forget all the rules he'd put in place. He didn't want any commitments, and he didn't want to care at all. But Maggie didn't make that easy.

Earlier in the garage, he'd fought every instinct in his body to just grab her and kiss her. Long and hard. Not let her go. But there was the matter of a teenage girl who barely tolerated his presence, and he was a short timer around here. Maggie needed someone stable, and Lexi needed a father figure. Hopefully the God she and Calhoun both believed in would give her and Lexi what they needed. As for him, he'd given up asking.

Jack uncovered the lid of the grill and said the only thing of which he was certain. “The coals are ready.”

 

****

 

Sunday arrived. Maggie rushed through the house throwing one last load of laundry in the dryer and then slathering a piece of toast with peanut butter. The breakfast of champions.

“Lexi, last warning. If you don't get up now we'll be late to church,” Maggie said.

Lexi rolled over and spoke through a blanket of hair. “I'm coming.”

Maggie took one last glimpse at herself in the mirror. No silly sundress today. She blushed at her mistake. She'd found the hideous floral dress in a box and put it on to appear less attractive. She'd realized too late, when she saw the look in Jack's and Lexi's eyes that it showed off a little too much of her legs.

He'd been enough of a gentleman to look away quickly, but the entire exchange had been so embarrassing she hoped to avoid him for a few days.

Their exchange in the garage, when he'd tenderly touched her hair, had rattled her. She didn't like these somewhat foreign feelings that reminded her of being a love-sick teenager. There would never be any more of those heady and intense feelings for her. She had a teenager of her own now.

Hopping in the car, Maggie turned the key to dead silence. No chug-a-lug attempts to start. No sound at all. Wonderful.

“Well, maybe we can miss today.” Another bill to add to the growing list. She'd expected to need a newer car soon enough, and it looked as if the day might have just arrived.

“I don't want to miss today,” Lexi said.

Maggie blinked. Lexi normally railed against church, and for a moment, Maggie wondered what had gotten into her daughter, but she wasn't about to complain.

“Maybe I can call someone to give us a ride.” Maggie thought of Vera first. She'd been trying to get her to come to church anyway, and now she had the perfect excuse.

Vera answered on the fourth ring, her voice groggy. “Who is this?”

“I'm sorry I woke you up. Can you give me a ride to church? The car won't start.”

“I was out late last night dancing.” Vera groaned.

Maggie didn't even know of a place in the area to go dancing. That was stuff that single people did. “Never mind. By the time you get here, it'll be too late anyway.”

“Sorry,” Vera said as she hung up.

Jack walked out his front door, noticed them sitting in the car and nodded in their direction. Today he wore gray sweats and a black baseball jersey and didn't look as if he were ready to go anywhere but back to bed. He picked up the newspaper from his lawn.

“What about him?” Lexi jutted her chin in Jack's direction.

“Jack?” Maggie worried a nail between her teeth.

Still outside, he perused the paper, a coffee mug in his other hand.

“He's already here,” Lexi said.

“You're right. I'll ask.” Not that she wanted to ask. He'd already done too much for her, and they'd done little in return but cause him difficulty. Well, Lexi had done little in return.

“Hey.” He looked up as she approached.

“Good morning. I hate to ask, but somehow the heavens have aligned so that my daughter actually wants to go to church today. Could we possibly get a ride?”

“I knew it was about to give up on you.” He glanced in the direction of her car.

Maggie shrugged. “I put too much faith in it.”

He nodded. “I'll be right back.”

Maggie waved at Lexi. She expected Jack to return with his keys, but a few minutes later, he emerged wearing black slacks and a tan button-up shirt. When she stared, he looked down at his choice of clothing.

“Is this OK? I haven't been to church in years.”

“You look”—devastatingly handsome came to mind—”fine.” Maggie's heart skipped a beat, and she pasted a smile on her face.

She'd spent a decade trying to get Matt to join them at church with spotty success, and now Jack had assumed he'd been invited. She wasn't about to correct him.

Jack followed her directions to Shadow Mountain Bible Church, and when he pulled into the parking lot, she didn't blame him when he stared at the building. “This is a church?”

A former vacation home of the Serrano family, the building had been donated to the church. It had floor to ceiling windows, a pain to clean, most in the congregation complained, but Pastor Wooten said it served to remind them that people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. It stood on a bluff overlooking the ridge.

They filed in, arriving in the middle of worship, and Lexi found her place with the young teens in their separate row.

That left Maggie and Jack alone in a row side by side. She was aware that she drew looks from some in the congregation who had never seen her attend with anyone other than Lexi.

But once she settled into her seat and Pastor Wooten continued to lead the band in worship songs, Maggie found herself lost in the worship music.

 

****

 

Shadow Mountain was unlike any other church he'd ever attended. In the days when he'd spent southern summers in Alabama with his grandfather, every Sunday meant church and a tie. He'd listen to a sermon from a pastor who made him feel guilty about how he spent the rest of the week—not to mention the rest of the year.

This pastor led the band with his twelve string guitar. The man looked to be about Jack's age, wore a shark tooth around his neck, and looked as if he were missing his surfboard. Jack wondered if maybe he was the pastor's son run amuck for the day.

And then there was Maggie's voice. As he stood next to her, it lifted above the rest of the congregation and sounded like an angel had appeared at his side.

Pastor Wooten grasped his attention with the sermon as he jumped about on stage describing his experience bungee jumping and made it an analogy to being “all in” for Christ. Church had definitely changed in the past twenty years, even though he'd had no real idea what to expect. Still, teens wore half ripped jeans and pink hair, and no one even seemed upset about it.

As they walked outside, they ran into Sheriff Calhoun.

“Good to see you, Jack. I knew it would take a woman to get you here.” He slapped Jack's back.

Maggie flushed. “You know each other?”

“Calhoun is my boss,” Jack said.

“I thought you were retired,” Maggie said as she glanced at Calhoun.

“Not yet. Soon though.” His voice boomed above the crowd of voices.

“Jack is my neighbor, and he was kind enough to bring us this morning when my car wouldn't start,” Maggie said.

“What's wrong with it?” Calhoun asked.

“It's old,” Maggie said.

Calhoun laughed and patted her back. “I'll send my mechanic to take a look. He's someone you can trust.”

“I can't afford much right now.” Maggie stared intently over Calhoun's shoulder.

Jack followed Maggie's gaze. She fixated on Lexi, standing with a shaggy haired boy he recognized all too well. Anton Whitman was the son of Tim Whitman and on a first name basis with law enforcement.

Anton had become quite fond of vandalizing the fence downtown with his spray painted “art.” So far, he'd accumulated thousands of dollars of personal property damage, which his father had paid. Naturally, he had to keep up appearances, but in all likelihood, Jack would bet Tim made Anton pay dearly for his indiscretions behind closed doors.

Normally Jack didn't have much sympathy for teens like Anton, but having personally become acquainted with his father had given him a new found compassion for the kid.

For Maggie's sake, he kept one eye trained on Anton as both kids approached.

“Mom, can we give Anton a ride home?” Lexi walked up to Maggie.

“That depends.” She looked at Jack, a question in her eyes. “Is that OK?”

“It's fine.” He glanced at Anton, who wouldn't meet his eyes. Typical. Out of his uniform or in it, he was a non-person to some kids.

Calhoun slapped Anton on the back. “Good to see you here, son.”

He didn't ask after the family, which made Jack wonder how Anton had made it here this morning. It was a long hike from his palatial home to town, and he didn't know too many kids who would do it to sit through a sermon, bungee-jumping pastor or not. Unless. Yeah, it had to be Lexi.

They said their good-byes and proceeded to his truck. He unlocked the doors and glanced at Maggie, who turned to him. “You're sure this is OK?”

Although it didn't bother him, he couldn't say the same about Maggie. She wore a similar expression to the one she had when she'd wrung her hands and begged him to agree to speak to Lexi.

“It's fine.” He opened the passenger door for Maggie and waited for her to climb in. The truck wasn't exactly equipped for petite women like her, and he had to resist the urge to help her. Better to keep his hands to himself.

“You'll have to tell Mr. Butler how to get there, Anton,” Maggie said once they were all seated in his truck.

“I know the way,” Jack said.

“Oh.” Maggie sounded as though she'd connected the dots, a good thing because he wouldn't lie for Anton. On the other hand, neither did he need to ruin everything for the kid who, after all, had made it to church. Surely, that had to be progress for him.
Take it easy, Butler.

Jack drove them slightly out of town to the gated community he'd nicknamed la-la land for street names like La Mar, La Honda, and La Pala. This was where the privileged of Harte's Peak lived. As they entered Sierra Estates, Lexi made a tiny gasp. “This is where my grandma and grandpa live.”

Anton directed him to drop him off at the curb. No surprise. He leaped out of the truck without a backward glance or so much as a thank you.

“Mom, can we stop and visit Grandma and Grandpa?”

He glanced at Lexi through the rearview mirror as she jumped up and down on the seat. He did a double take because she suddenly sounded like she was seven.

“This isn't a good time. I'm sure Mr. Butler has things to do, and he's our ride,” Maggie said.

“Sorry.” While all he had ahead of him tonight was a swing shift, neither did he want to visit anyone's grandparents. Besides, he got the distinct impression Maggie didn't want to stop by either, with or without him.

Surprisingly, the kid seemed to accept the news without complaint, sighing only once. Probably some kind of record.

Jack pulled into his driveway.

Lexi grabbed the keys, jumped out of the truck, and ran to her house.

Maggie stayed back. “I'd like to talk to you about Anton sometime, and exactly how you know him.”

Glancing toward her house, he nodded. “Sure.”

He'd meant to compliment her voice—the sound of an angel—but she was gone like the wind before he had a chance. She belonged in the choir or someplace where others could appreciate that distinctive, almost pleading sound. Not that he was any expert, but he did have a pair of ears, which hadn't failed him yet.

Today's sermon from the pastor might have been encouraging if they could have applied to him, but some things were beyond forgiveness. Surely, God wanted everyone to stop being a bunch of whiners, anyway. He didn't believe in begging God for help any more than he believed in therapy. Weaker people needed God. Not him. The thing to do was pull yourself up by your own sheer willpower.

Sooner or later he'd do it, too, with the same single-minded determination that got him through military school and into the Marines. From the Marines he'd found a place in the Marshal Service, a place he belonged. No whining. He never had before, and he wasn't about to start now.

On the other hand, James Butler was probably smiling today seeing him in a church pew again. The man had never missed a Sunday until the day he died.

If not for his grandfather, his life would have turned out quite differently. He might still be living with his mother, might have even been the one to find her dead from the drug overdose. But he'd been spared all that when Child Protective Services had intervened and placed him with his grandfather, the one man who'd sworn he'd never give up on him.

He couldn't give up on himself, either, but what he'd done so far wasn't working. Maybe it was time to try a new tactic. Dr. Logan had said that the pills were only a temporary measure, but he didn't believe it. Neither was it likely that his colleagues had accepted the excuse that he'd taken a personal leave of absence to take care of a family issue. He wondered what Kim had told them, if anything.

They probably thought he was nuts, loco, off the deep end. And every moment he spent away was another moment he failed to convince them otherwise. Still, if he returned now, as Kimberly thought he should, he couldn't face any of them.

Not when he could barely look at his own reflection in the mirror.