Heart's Haven (6 page)

Cassidy scolded herself. It wasn’t the Almighty’s ability she doubted, it was her prayers He didn’t seem to heed.

“Good. Can you start Monday morning?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’re hired.” Belatedly Cassidy remembered Ty. “If you don’t have to rush away, I’d like you to meet the director of the Haven. Mr. St. John gets final say, but I don’t think he’ll have a problem with you.”

“I will work very hard,” Irina assured her.

“I know you will.” As they walked up the stairs to Ty’s office Cassidy searched for common ground. “Your accent—it’s Russian, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Irina’s pale cheeks glowed bright red. “I try—I am trying,” she corrected, “very hard to speak good English.”

“You’re doing very well,” Cassidy assured her. Then she started singing in Russian. “I worked with a Russian chef who insisted I learn his language.”

Irina’s self-consciousness disappeared as she responded with a Russian joke. They were both laughing as they walked toward Ty’s door, which was probably why Cassidy didn’t hear the argument until it was too late to turn away.

“It’s not safe to be wandering the streets after dark, Jack. I’ve told you how rough—”

Cassidy rapped on the door and opened it quickly, before they were forced to overhear any more.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she apologized. “I wanted you and Irina to meet.” She introduced them. “And Jack, of course.” She smiled at the boy, flinching at the rebellious glint in his eye. “Irina’s going to start helping me in the kitchen on Monday morning.”

“Welcome. I hope you’ll enjoy it here, Irina.” Ty shook her hand but didn’t get to say anything else because Jack interrupted.

“Are you Red’s mother?”

“Yes, I am.” Poor Irina cringed as if embarrassed by her daughter’s activities.

“Well, we don’t want to keep you, Ty,” Cassidy said pointedly. “I just thought you’d like to meet. Irina and I have some stuff to talk about.”

Cassidy turned and headed for the door but just before she stepped through, Ty grasped Irina’s arm.

“Wait!”

A whimper whispered past the woman’s white pinched lips as she drew her arm away and tucked it against her side.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to grab so hard.” Ty looked at Cassidy helplessly.

“I fell down this morning. My arm hurts.” Irina stared at the floor.

“I’m always injuring myself,” Cassidy said. “My friends used to say I’m like a walking bandage. What was it you wanted, Ty?”

“I wanted to ask Mrs. Markovich something.” Ty paused a moment, his forehead pleated. “One of the construction workers mentioned the name Markovich earlier today in reference to basketball. Would that happen to be your husband?”

Irina’s face tightened. She nodded once.

“Perhaps he’d be interested in helping coach a children’s team,” Ty said.

“I do not think he has much time.” Irina moved toward the door. “Excuse me, it is later than I realize. I must go.”

“I’ll see you Monday,” Cassidy called as the other woman hurried down the stairs and outside, quickly disappearing into the street.

“She acts like she’s afraid of something.” Jack stood behind her, watching.

“Maybe she is.” Cassidy turned, smiled at him. “Thanks for pitching in today, buddy. You did a great job and I appreciate it.”

“Thanks!” Jack glanced at his uncle reproachfully.

“I’m tired. I think I’ll get my coat and go home.” Cassidy almost made it to the bottom of the stairs before Ty’s voice stopped her.

“Jack wants to finish a chess game with Mac. Why don’t I drive you?”

She didn’t need time to consider it.

“Thanks. I’d appreciate it. I’m so tired my legs barely function. Too much time off before I came here, I guess.”

“Meet you at the front door?”

“Thanks.” Cassidy returned downstairs to check everything, clicked off the lights and grabbed her purse and coat. She waited for him on the stoop outside, watching the neighborhood fall into its night patterns.

“You look a thousand miles away.”

Ty held out a hand and despite her misgivings, Cassidy took it and let him escort her down the icy stairs, then let go.

“Never left Chicago.” She walked beside him toward his car, noting the shiny new rims and wheels.

Ty must have tracked her gaze.

“Don’t even ask,” he ordered, his mouth tipped in a grim line.

“Okay.”

“Isn’t it a beautiful evening?” He rested a hand on her arm as they walked over the partially frozen yard. “When I was a kid, my dad took Gail and me outside after dark every Sunday night so we could watch the stars come out. We never felt the cold. We’d lie on the snow and peer up into the sky until each of us had identified at least two constellations and seen a shooting star. Then we’d go in for hot chocolate, giggling and laughing long after we were tucked up in bed.”

“Sounds like you had a good childhood.”

“Yes.” He held the car door, waited for her to get inside. “I think that’s what I’d like most for Jack to remember about his youth. Happy times.”

“He will.”

“I hope so.”

Cassidy directed him to the little home Elizabeth had provided, and when they arrived, invited him in for tea.

“I don’t have much of a yard, but you’re welcome to flop down on the snow out back if you want.”

“Thanks anyway. Maybe another time.” He grinned. “Say, five months from now.”

“Chicken.”

“Absolutely.” Ty followed her inside, paused to study the cherished pieces she’d brought back from Europe. “Should I light the fire?”

“Would you mind? Starting that fire usually takes me an hour. Then it’s time to put it out and go to bed.” She hung their coats up, then moved to the kitchen to brew tea.

Last night she’d made a pie for her elderly neighbor, but since he’d left for a winter holiday this morning it still sat on her counter. Cassidy cut two slices, then carried everything to the living room.

“Have a seat,” she said, wondering what Ty was thinking about as he peered so intently into the flames. He’d relaxed a little, lost the fan of lines around his eyes.

He chose the overstuffed armchair that sat in front of the window and sniffed where her herb pots sat.

“I can smell mint, parsley and dill but those are the only ones I’m familiar with. Guess I wouldn’t make it as a foodie.”

“You named most of them.” She added a sprig of the spearmint to his tea. “Everything tastes better with fresh herbs.”

“Having sampled your wonderful cooking, I agree.” He accepted the chunky mug, sampled the contents. “Mmm, delicious. I’ve never tasted anything like it before.”

“It’s a blend I make for myself,” she explained. “Since I’ve come back, I find the food either too sweet or too salty. I’ve taken to drinking a lot of tea. It cleanses the palate and—”

One glance at his face told her she was rambling. She handed him the pie.

“Sorry. I hope you don’t find that too sour.”

He judged it perfect.

“If sweet and sour are the only differences you’ve noticed since you returned, you’re lucky.”

The way he said it pricked her curiosity.

“You must have noticed some differences when you came back, too.”

“I did.”

“Like?” Oh, that was stupid. His sister had just died. Of course he’d notice a difference.

Ty tensed. His fingers pinched whiter around the mug. His back straightened. He waited several moments before answering.

“The smells. People’s attitudes. Sounds.”

“Is that why you aren’t able to sleep much?” She was getting personal but Cassidy needed to understand why he startled every time there was a loud noise, why he fussed so much about Jack if his nephew wasn’t in school or easily spotted nearby.

“What makes you think I don’t sleep much?” He smiled when she reminded him that he’d beaten her to work this morning. “You’re right. I don’t. Too much nervous energy, I guess.”

He hadn’t looked energetic at all, but Cassidy had little time to dwell on his words as Ty quickly turned the conversation.

“Why do you want Irina Markovich in the kitchen?”

“Red mentioned she needed a job. I need the help.” She shrugged. “We’ll see how it goes.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s been beaten,” he told her.

“You think Red did it?”

“No.” His blue eyes sought hers, held them until she broke the stare.

“Red told me her mother drank.”

“Uh-huh. Did you see Irina’s reaction when I touched her arm?” He leaned back but kept watching her. “There’s something else going on there, Cassidy. Watch yourself.”

“Red and Irina aren’t going to hurt me,” she scoffed.

“I didn’t say
they
would.” Ty sipped his tea and watched her, his gaze mesmeric. “You think you know this neighborhood because you used to live here, but it isn’t the same place as it was. Things change. People change.”

“I’m not naive. I take precautions. I’ve had to.”
Don’t talk about the past.
“Some of the places I’ve lived weren’t great. But I won’t live in fear just because there are bad people around. I’ve already wasted enough time living like that.” She clamped her lips closed, refusing to expose any more of her battered soul.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I’m not trying to run your life. I’m just—worried.”

“That surprises me,” she admitted, flicking her fingers over the handmade afghan her last boss had given her. “I never took you for the worrying type.”

Ty’s eyebrows lifted. “What type did you take me for?”

“You’re always talking about God to Jack.” Cassidy shrugged. “I didn’t think Christians were supposed to worry.”

“Touché.” The corners of his lips lifted, but he was not amused.

“So?” She waited for an explanation.

“I guess I worry more since Gail died.”

Cassidy knew that wasn’t all of it, but she also sensed that Ty needed to say more. So she sat quietly and waited.

“It’s not that I don’t trust God to handle things, I do. It’s just that—her death was so unexpected. I felt like I lost control of things. Like the world was spinning wildly around me and I couldn’t find anything to grab on to. I still feel like that sometimes. I guess my faith isn’t as strong as it should be.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about me. I’ve been taking care of myself for quite a while.”
Without his or God’s help.

Ty studied her, a funny look washing over his features.

“And you don’t want me messing up your system?”

“I think you’ve got enough on your plate with Jack and the Haven.” She leaned forward. “He’s a good kid, Ty, but if you feel your world’s spinning, he must certainly feel the same, don’t you think?”

“Of course. But I don’t want his grounding to come courtesy of Red and her gang.”

“You said your sister spent a lot of time here. Did Jack ever come with her and help out?” She waited for his nod. “Then I’m sure he met some unsavory types, but he seems to be a very centered kid. I don’t think Red or anyone else will persuade him to do something he doesn’t want to. I think he’s just trying to find his way in his new world.”

“Maybe.” Ty stared into the flames, his face highlighted by their dancing glow. “He doesn’t talk much, you know. I was hoping that time would ease his grief, that we could talk about her. But with everything so wild at the Haven, there’s hardly a moment.”

“Then make one.” Her heart ached for him. “The Haven will be around next year and the year after, but Jack won’t and he’s your primary responsibility. He needs to know you’re there, that you love him and care about him. That you want what’s best for him.”

Cassidy suddenly realized that she was advising a psychologist on family matters.

“Sorry,” she apologized, embarrassed by her outburst. “I’m sure you know exactly how to treat your nephew. I should mind my own business.”

He didn’t contradict that, but a cute little grin fluttered across his mouth. “Like that’s going to happen.”

She lifted one eyebrow. “Touché.”

They spent some time discussing the programs for the coming month. Ty shared some ideas he’d been pursuing, stunning her with the scope of his plans.

“Wow. These are big ideas. Are you sure—”

“Rest assured I haven’t been pursuing dead ends,” he snapped, setting his cup down hard on the coffee table. “I want things well under way before the spring.”

“What happens in the spring?” Ty seemed suddenly intense and Cassidy didn’t understand why; a few days ago she’d had to push him to allow a single meal to be served.

“Sooner or later we’ll have a grand opening. Before that happens I want to make sure the Haven is doing everything my sister intended it should.”

“I see.” Cassidy opened her mouth to ask another question, saw his glance fall on the picture she’d hung above the settee.

“What’s that?” he asked, rising to take a better look.

“A drawing.” She did not want to talk about
her
dream.

“A very detailed one. Of what?” He studied the sturdy columns, the wide front porch, the lush urns that guarded the entry.

“A friend drew it for me. Would you like more tea?”

Questions hovered in his scrutiny but Ty didn’t ask them. He simply watched her for several moments before checking his watch.

“I’d better go. Jack’s probably won by now.”

“Does he always win at chess?”

“Usually. He’s a strategist. Thanks for the pie.”

“I wrapped up the rest of it for you to take home. I know teenage boys get hungry and I won’t eat it. I’m on a diet.”

“I can’t imagine why. But thank you.” Ty pulled on his jacket, accepted the pie from her. Still, he didn’t leave.

The stretching silence unnerved her. Cassidy couldn’t look at him.

“You did a great job with the meal,” Ty said, his voice soft. “The turnout was far better than I expected and everyone enjoyed your cooking. Including me.”

“It was fun,” she admitted. “I’m going to ask Davis if his church will sponsor the grocery night every Saturday. That stuff disappeared in seconds.”

“There is a food bank a few blocks over.”

“Which none of those people will use and we both know that.” She waited, wondering why he hesitated.