Love Inspired November 2013 #2 (54 page)

“I was wrong.” His words were simple, but they socked Evie in the heart. It took a big man to admit he was wrong without batting an eye.

“Well, I can't think about it right now. My son is sleeping in a strange room, pretending he's on a camping trip, because we were outed by an internet gossip site.”

She turned to Evie. “I'm so grateful to you. Don't think I'm not grateful.”

“I understand. Really.” Evie glanced around at her tiny living room. She wished it were more comfortable, more like a real home. She wished there weren't boxes stacked to the ceiling in one corner of the guest room.

“Since you probably shouldn't drive your car in case you're followed, let me take you. Or I can call someone else. But I don't want you and Sean riding around with Evie.” Gavin's face was somber.

“And why would that be?” Allison turned, hands on hips, eyes narrowed.

“No airbags.” Gavin looked from one to the other. “What? It's not safe. I bet there aren't even any shoulder belts in the backseat.”

Evie caught Allison's eye and started to giggle. The poor woman was being exposed to the nation for the second time in her life, and Gavin was worried about her VW bug.

“You are such a bossy brother, but I love you anyway.” Allison rolled her eyes.

“Will you guys sit down while I make some tea? Or hot chocolate?”

“No, thank you,” Allison said, reaching for the bags. “You should get to bed. I've kept you up too late already.”

“I should go check in at work.” Gavin headed for the door, giving Evie one more glance.

“But it's almost ten!” Evie froze, shocked.

“Just for a few minutes.” And he was gone.

“He thinks he has to save the world.” Allison rummaged in a duffel bag. “But he can't.”

Opening her mouth to argue, to point out how capable and smart and hardworking Gavin was, Evie paused. Gavin may be a superhero type, but it took an entire fleet of scientists and hospital workers to contain the spread of the disease. He was acting like he was shouldering the responsibility alone.

“And when things don't go well, he thinks it's his fault. Every failure, every sick kid, every bad decision made by other people and he takes it personally, as if he's let it happen through his own negligence.” Her eyes had a distant look and the pupils seemed dilated with the pain of remembering.

Evie nodded. She loved that about him, his protective nature, but she'd never thought of the flip side. The guilt, the burden of trying to change a world that didn't want to be changed.

“My own bad choices have hurt him more than he'll say, and it kills me.” She paused, brushing back her hair. “Some days I want to tell him that keeping Sean a secret had nothing to do with him, but he thinks my lack of trust in him is his fault.”

Allison laughed, a sad little sound that made Evie's throat tighten. “Whatever you do, don't lie to him.”

“I'm not...” Her voice trailed away. She wasn't lying. But she was hiding. “I can't tell him right now.”

Resting her hand on Evie's arm, she said, “The way he looks at you tells me you better not wait.”

She felt her face go hot. “What way?”

“The way his gaze follows you around the room, the way he stands near you and the way he gets this look on his face like he's been stun-gunned.” Allison started to laugh. “I've never seen him like this. He's a goner.”

She turned, hiding her face while she straightened the couch cushions. “That's silly. He's probably watching me for signs of pertussis.” She hoped her voice didn't betray the way her heart was pounding. She desperately wanted to believe Gavin was falling in love with her and just as desperately hoped it wasn't true.

“Very funny.”

“Make yourself at home. I'm going to set the coffeemaker for tomorrow.” Evie hoped Allison understood she didn't have to ask for anything.

In response, the young mom hugged her hard. “Thank you.”

Evie nodded and wandered to the kitchen, realizing for the first time how long ago she'd eaten. She stood at the sink and stared at the small alcove window near the ceiling. Lights from the building caught the drifting snowflakes on the downward spiral. She'd always felt comforted by the snow. Now the thought of Christmas made her swallow hard.

Without realizing, she had placed Gavin squarely in the middle of her visions of the coming holiday. Maybe there wouldn't be any handsome blond man by her side as they listened to the Mission kids sing carols. Maybe she wouldn't be attending the midnight service and sitting next to Grandma Lili, with Gavin a steady, peaceful presence on that special day.

Evie felt a pain in her chest that was so sharp she leaned against the sink, sucking in deep breaths. It shouldn't be a surprise. It was only right that she suffer for her past. Just like Allison was, so she would be. She struggled to stand up straight and blinked back hot tears. Enough of feeling sorry for herself. It never did any good.

There wasn't any other way around it. Gavin deserved to know the truth, and she deserved whatever came from the revelation. And something told her that this fiercely protective man was going to have a very hard time forgiving Evie for what she'd done to his family.

Chapter Fourteen

“S
ean, put that down!” Those were the words that greeted Gavin as he walked into Evie's apartment that evening. Allison was pointing one finger at her towheaded son, who was swinging something that looked suspiciously like Evie's laptop cord.

“Is the day over yet?” She tucked her dark hair behind her ears and let out a huge sigh.

He gave her a quick hug and ruffled Sean's hair. “I hear you.” He'd snagged a few hours of sleep near dawn, but napping in his desk chair wasn't the best way to feel rested. He felt as if he were fighting through a fog.

Couch cushions were lopsided, throw pillows stacked in a pile in the center of the room and the table was covered with paper and crayons. “Looks like you guys are having fun.”

“Oh, boy. Not the word I'd use.” She rolled her eyes, plopping into a chair. “Evie's not back yet. Thankfully Grandma Lili's in the kitchen cooking something wonderful or I'd have to give up. Like, right now.”

“Our Grandma Lili?”

She snorted. “The one and only.”

Gavin hoped Evie was telling the truth about loving his grandmother because it appeared his entire family had moved in. “I'll go see if she needs any help.”

“Smells great,” he said, as he poked his head into the kitchen. Grandma Lili stood up, hands covered in flour, gray hair slightly mussed. The cabinet was open and she seemed flustered.

“Oh, good. You can help. I've had my heart set on biscuits all day, and I can't find the baking sheets.” She nodded at the bowl of biscuit dough, raising her hands as proof.

“I can look, but I've never been here except for a few minutes last night.” He crouched down and started opening cabinets.

“Really? I got the impression...”

He peered over his shoulder. “Yes?”

“Well, we all know how fast the world moves today. I assumed you'd at least been to dinner here.”

Gavin took a moment to reach in and grab the slim metal cookie sheet. “Nope.”

“And that's not for wanting.” Grandma Lili cocked an eyebrow at him.

Was he that obvious? “My usual charms are proving less than adequate.” He didn't bother to mention how she had stepped back from him last night. It was a clear message if there ever was one. Something had changed since that kiss on the trail, and he didn't know what.

“Well, nice to see you again, Mrs. Sawyer.” Evie had appeared in the doorway, face pink from the cold. Gavin straightened up with a snap. She must have come in just seconds behind him. With all the noise Sean was making, nobody could hear a thing.

She froze, sweeping a gaze over him. Gavin wished his suit were a little less rumpled, but he hadn't had time to go home and change. He was a few hours past a five-o'clock shadow and definitely the worse for wear.

She recovered quickly and raised a hand. “Hi, Gavin.” Peering in the oven, Evie made a sound of utter happiness. “Roast chicken? I could get used to this.”

“Nonsense. I bet you can cook pretty well, yourself.” Grandma Lili pointed at the row of cookbooks displayed on a shelf in the tidy little kitchen.

“Did you read the titles?”

His grandma leaned closer, squinting. “
365 Desserts.
Chocolate Decadence.
A Cookie for Every Occasion.
Well, somebody has a sweet tooth.”

“Little known fact.” She unbuttoned her coat. “Let me hang up my coat and I can help.”

Grandma Lili waited a few moments after Evie had left the kitchen and then whispered into the silence. “I think your charms are in perfect working order. You stopped that girl in her tracks.”

He shook his head. “Not in a good way. She must think it's a Sawyer family invasion.”

Allison popped her head in. “Evie's reading to Sean so I can take a break and come help.”

Resisting the urge to shoot Grandma Lili a look that told her how he'd been right all along, Gavin moved to the other counter to chop lettuce. “Come on in, newest kitchen slave.”

“The least I can do is make sure you don't burn anything.”

“As if.” He loved being with these two, fighting for space in the little kitchen. But there had been the tiniest hope that Evie wanted to be here, too. He shrugged it off and focused on his chopping.

“Have you seen any nice little buildings for rent? Evie's got that whole back room filled with supplies but nowhere to store the stuff.”

He looked at Allison, struggling to make sense of her question. “What supplies?”

“Oh, I thought you knew.” Glancing between him and Grandma Lili, Allison wiped her hands on a towel. “She's got this idea of opening a small drop point for baby supplies.”

“A boutique?”

“Nothing like that. She said she had an idea but thought it was too crazy until Gavin told her something about doing the right thing. That you always waited for someone else to stand up and volunteer and finally you figured you should just do it and God will fill in the blanks?”

“I think I remember that.” In the gym at the Mission.

“Well, I guess a friend told her about how they had been in a financial bind right before they had their baby. They weren't homeless or destitute, but they were in a bad place. Even the thrift store was too expensive.”

“Working poor,” said Grandma Lili over her shoulder. She shook a pile of green beans into a colander and rinsed them in the sink.

“They looked okay but weren't staying afloat and really struggled to buy the essentials. Evie got this idea that somehow she could rent a little place that would have cribs and things available. She'd buy them from online thrift sites, yard sales or on sale. Make sure everything was up to code and supply them for free. The need will always outweigh the supply, but something is better than nothing.”

Grandma Lili was perfectly still, a handful of green beans hovering near the pot. “What kind of person opens a shop like that?” She nodded her head. “I love this girl.”

Allison's voice dropped a bit, and she focused on a spot on the counter. “I know what it's like to be in that position. I think it's a great idea.”

There was a tightness in his chest, hope and pain mixed together. Evie didn't have anything to do with her friend's situation, but it touched her enough to make a plan, to try and change the way the world works.

Gavin carefully set the plates on the counter and looked for silverware, conscious of being in Evie's kitchen, touching items she touched every day. What kind of person
was
she? He could hear her soft voice in the living room, reading to Sean. She was someone who stepped into the gap, whether or not she was to blame for the lack.

Allison took a breath and went on. “She'd have to keep track somehow of who got what to keep the system from being abused. Of course, there will always be some people who try to take more than they need, but she doesn't want to focus on that. She wants it to be a place people can bring their like-new baby gear to donate and a place where families in need can find no-cost supplies.”

“I'm sure my ladies' prayer group at St. James would be able to help out. Collecting supplies, running bake sales.” Grandma Lili looked like she was ready to start that hour, that minute.

“Well, she doesn't even have a place yet. It should be in a central area, close to the Mission so it's accessible. But not too expensive and not too much like a shop front. The way she described it was a place that was comfortable, private, but big enough to store what they needed.” She put a finger to her chin. “Oh, and some sort of loading area near the alley.”

“That's a long list,” Gavin said. He wiped the cutting board, brushing small crumbs into his palm. She'd put a lot of thought into this store. He hadn't heard anything about it, but Allison had the full story. He noted his own petty feelings of being left out and felt his lips go up in a half smile. Evie didn't owe him anything, least of all an accounting of all her current projects. But he desperately wanted to be that person, the one who heard all her hopes and plans.

A knock sounded at the door and the two of them froze, like a domestic tableau in an old painting.

“I'll get it.” Gavin tried to sound calm, assured. What would he do if it was a reporter? What would Allison do?

He peered through the peephole. “Just Jack,” he called over his shoulder and swung open the door.

“Just Jack. What does that mean?” He walked in, dark hair covered with a dusting of snowflakes, arms full, something large dangling from one hand.

“It means you need to call first,” Evie said from the other end of the living room.

“Hi, Jack.” Allison waved shyly, walking in from the kitchen. “Sean, get down from there!” His nephew took a flying leap from the side of the couch, letting out a full-throated shriek as he went. The kid had a good pair of lungs.

“Sorry.” The young mom's face was bright pink, her lips set in a line.

“I picked up some essentials.” Jack held up his arms and Gavin got a better look at the jumble of items. A small trampoline, a miniature basketball hoop, several boxes.

“What's all this?” Evie pointed at the pile of what was obviously meant for Sean.

“Dear sister of mine, I was a boy once. And boys have energy to burn.” He grinned. “I still do. But anyway, I thought you guys would like some activity toys.”

Sean was standing near, eyes wide. “Is this for me?”

“Sure, but your mom will probably set some rules before you get to start. Maybe you could try this out while I pump up the balls.” He laid the trampoline on the floor and Sean bounced onto it, small body a blur of motion. A wild scream of laughter told them how much he was going to enjoy it.

Jack looked embarrassed. “He may not be quieter, but he might be happier.”

Gavin glanced at Allison and was surprised to see tears in her eyes. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

“No problem. Glad I can help. Sure wish we could get him up on the mountain for some sledding, but this will have to do.” He set down two boxes and pulled out a large yellow exercise ball.

“Will you stay for dinner?” Allison asked, already headed to the kitchen for another plate, her words following her.

Evie snorted. “Jack's never turned down a meal. Ever. We're having roasted chicken with homemade biscuits and fresh green beans.”

“I don't want to butt in.”

“Butt into what? It's dinner.”

“I haven't met the grandmother,” he said softly, as if it were a secret.

“And? She's perfectly nice.” Evie shrugged and took the giant yellow ball from Jack.

“She doesn't bite,” Gavin assured him.

“Okay. I guess I'll stay.” He still looked a little nervous but took off his coat.

Gandma Lili called out from the kitchen. “Help me with these biscuits, Gavin. Evie can roll and you can cut.”

Evie caught his eye and seemed to be trying not to laugh. His bossy grandmother was taking over her kitchen. He hoped she didn't mind. To him it felt like what a family should be: busy, warm, a little bit loud.

They trooped into the small kitchen and took up their biscuit-making jobs. Gavin knew now wasn't the time or the place, but he couldn't help the rush of warmth when those bright blue eyes flitted from his, shyness written on her face. And those dimples. Her face was like a movie he never wanted to stop watching. He catalogued every detail. She had felt so soft in his arms, so warm.

Gavin shook himself. Get a grip. What kind of lovesick puppy ogles a pretty girl just feet from his own grandmother? He glanced up guiltily and caught Grandma's eye. She winked broadly. He was so obvious he should be wearing a sign. Whipped—Do Not Attempt To Rehabilitate.

“Gavin, take this chicken to the table. Make sure you set it right on the hot pads. We don't want to scar the lovely wood. That would be a poor way to repay Evie for her hospitality.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He slid on the oven mitts and carried the rosemary-encrusted bird toward the living room, delicious smells rising straight into his nose. He knew what Grandma Lili was doing. A little interfering might not seem like a bad thing, but something was keeping Evie from opening up to him, and there was nothing Grandma Lili could say that would change that.

* * *

Evie stood awkwardly in her own kitchen and wished she'd been gifted with a lighter personality, one that chirped over décor or the best recipes or hairstyles. But she hadn't been, and so she waited for Grandma Lili to roll the biscuit dough, saying nothing.

The seconds stretched into minutes, and Evie peeked at the old woman's face. It was serene, thoughtful. The only noise in the kitchen was the steady rhythmic sound and motion of the age-old exercise of rolling out dough.

Grandma Lili passed a biscuit cutter to Evie, meeting her gaze and smiling. There was no need to be anxious. Just two women, making biscuits, preparing dinner. She watched Grandma Lili's capable hands twisting and turning the slab. The raucous sounds of two men and a young boy playing in the living room were like sweet background music. Evie let loose a long breath she didn't know she'd been holding deep inside and felt her shoulders relax.

“I believe in you.” Grandma Lili's words were soft, almost as if she were speaking to herself.

Evie looked up, eyes widening. For a moment, she'd thought the older woman had said she
believed
her, and she'd felt her past rise up in her throat.

Her quick hands pinched out the shapes and laid them on the sheet. “You remind me of Gavin, you know. He took Patrick's death and made it a personal mission. He works so hard, as if the world will come crashing down if he doesn't take responsibility for it.”

Evie felt her face flush hot. She carefully pressed her cutter into the dough, making sure the entire circle was separated from the rest. Just the way she felt. Isolated, alone.