The Prodigal Comes Home (9 page)

M
att’s heart bounced off his rib cage when he opened the door and saw Zoey pushing an envelope into the rusty mailbox attached to it. In faded jeans and a sweatshirt that brought out a hint of blue in her pearl-gray eyes, she looked…stunning.

And startled to see him.

“You’re here.”

There was only one way to respond to that. And somehow, he managed to say it without stammering. “Yes.”

Matt had been thinking about Zoey ever since Jake dropped him off in the squad car. Instead of knocking on Liz’s door and inviting himself in for a cup of coffee, Matt had retreated to the carriage house. The conversation with the police chief had given him a lot to think—and pray—about.

Looking at Zoey, it was difficult to imagine how anyone could question her motives for moving in with Liz. There was a vulnerability about her that told Matt she wasn’t the kind of person who would intentionally hurt someone. In fact, judging from the shadows he glimpsed in Zoey’s eyes from time to time, Matt guessed that
she
was the one who’d been hurt.

“I thought you were gone…” Zoey caught herself when his eyebrow shot up. “I mean, I didn’t see your truck parked in the driveway.”

“A friend of mine borrowed it for the day.”

“Oh.” Zoey thrust a handful of papers toward him that Matt recognized as his sermon notes. “Gran finished looking these over and she mentioned that you need them to practice your sermon.”

“Your timing is good.” Matt stepped to the side. “I have something for her, too. One of the members of the congregation dropped it off here last night because they noticed Liz had company and didn’t want to intrude. I was going to stop over later, so you saved me a trip.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Zoey followed him inside.

Matt was glad he’d taken a few minutes to straighten up the place but it wasn’t exactly
Better Homes and Gardens
quality. He saw Zoey’s gaze slide to the breakfast dishes that formed a semi-circle around his Bible.

She stopped just inside the doorway, a clear sign that she was anxious to be on her way. But now that she was here, Matt was reluctant to let her go.

“Does the carriage house look the way you remember it?” he asked.

Zoey shook her head. “Grandpa used it for storage when I lived here. I remember peeking in the windows and seeing old bicycles. Gardening tools. Stuff like that.”

When I lived here.

As tempted as he was to take advantage of the opening she’d just given him, Matt hadn’t invited her in for an interrogation.

Some deputy he was turning out to be. Jake would take away his badge.

“Daniel Redstone, one of the men in the congregation, did most of the remodeling.” Matt looked around, trying to see the place through Zoey’s eyes. Most of the furnishings were secondhand, overflow from peoples’ generosity—and attics. The result was an eclectic blend that suited a bachelor who spent more time at the church than he did his home. “I have a list of things I’d like to do eventually, but…”

“But right now you’re helping other people cross off the things on their lists,” Zoey finished the sentence.

He gave her a lopsided smile. “Right.” He saw her attention settle on a bouquet of daisies sprouting from a vase in the middle of the coffee table.

“That’s what I’m supposed to give you. Brenda hoped they would brighten Liz’s day a little.”

“Gran loves fresh flowers.”

“How is she feeling this morning?”

“She was awake a few times during the night,” Zoey admitted. “The medication she’s taking is supposed to be helping her cough, but it still sounds bad.”

Matt noticed the smudges under Zoey’s eyes. Apparently Liz wasn’t the only one who hadn’t slept. Struck by a sudden, inexplicable urge to draw her into his arms, Matt pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans instead.

If you want to cheer her up, you better stick to Chopsticks.

“When is Liz’s next appointment with Dr. Parish?”

Zoey didn’t answer. She was staring at something behind him.

Matt followed her gaze and saw the enormous calico cat curled up in his leather recliner. The most comfortable chair in the house. They battled over the territory every day so it came down to whoever got there first. Matt usually lost.

“Oh, that’s my roommate. Not that we negotiated a contract or anything. When I moved in, so did she.”

Zoey didn’t seem to be listening. She crossed the room and perched gingerly on the edge of the chair. Lime-green eyes rolled open to check out the disturbance.

“Careful. She’s kind of cranky…” Matt’s warning died in his throat. To his amazement, the ordinarily standoffish animal stretched out her front paws and pushed her wedge-shaped face against Zoey’s hand.

“Hey there,” Zoey crooned, gathering the cat into her lap.

“Don’t laugh, but she has a weird name for a female cat. It’s—”

“George.”

Matt stared at her. “How did you know that?”

“Because I named her,” Zoey whispered. “Grandpa gave her to me on my seventeenth birthday. She was just a kitten. I named her after a character in a book.” She was staring down at the cat as if she were afraid it would disappear. “I didn’t know that…I was afraid to ask Gran what had happened to her.” Zoey wrapped her arms around the cat, which jumpstarted a chainsaw-like purr.

George could
purr?

He’d had no idea.

Just like he’d had no idea that for the past two years, he’d been taking care of Zoey’s cat.

“Why didn’t you take her with you when you left?”

Zoey didn’t answer right away. “I thought she’d be better off here.”

The shadows had returned, dimming the light in her expressive eyes like an evening mist. Matt wanted nothing more than to chase them away. “I think she remembers you.”

“Really?” Hope and doubt battled for dominance in Zoey’s eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard her purr before. To tell you the truth, I think it’s the recliner she likes, not necessarily my company.” Matt reached down and rubbed his knuckles against the soft fur between George’s ears. “But she is the first one who hears my sermons. Every Saturday afternoon.”

A smile shimmered in Zoey’s eyes.

A smile that stalled his heart in midbeat. Matt swallowed.

“She used to curl up on the end of my bed and listen to me sing,” Zoey admitted softly. “She never cared about what song it was either.”

Matt read between the lines.

Someone had.

Matt realized that he had just been given a gift. A brief, unguarded glimpse into Zoey’s heart.

He nodded, feeling his way through uncharted territory. Afraid that one careless word would send her running for cover again. “I know what you mean. George never falls asleep in the middle of my sermons. And she’s never critical.”

Zoey’s laughter bubbled up like a spring. “Or it could be that George is hard of hearing. She is getting up there in cat years, you know.”

“Hey.” Matt grinned, thrilled that she’d let her guard down long enough to tease him.

“Dad always practiced his sermons on me,” Zoey said after a moment.

It was the first time she had mentioned her father. “He must have valued your opinion.”

Pain flashed across Zoey’s face like summer lightning. “Not really.” Her smile, when it appeared, was rueful. “I think he wanted to make sure I heard them twice.”

Matt tried to remember what Liz had said about her only son and his wife. “Your parents are on the mission field. In Africa, right?”

“Yes.”

“So, how many years did you live over there?” Matt asked, then instantly regretted asking the question. He could see Zoey shut down. It was like watching a castle come under siege. Bolts in place. Windows slammed shut. Doors barred.

“I better go. I promised Gran I’d make a grocery store run today.” Zoey gently moved George off her lap.

She’d retrieved the bouquet of daisies and was halfway to the door before Matt realized it. He scooped up a boneless, purring George and followed.

“Wait a second. You forgot something.”

Zoey turned around and her eyes widened. “Matt, no—” Her voice barely rose above a whisper. “She belongs to you now.”

Ignoring her protest, Matt transferred the cat into her arms. “Say ‘welcome home.’”

“Welcome home,” Zoey murmured, pressing her cheek against the soft ruff of fur below the cat’s whiskers.

Matt felt a hitch in his breathing. “I was talking to George.”

“I can’t believe that cat is back again.” Gran chuckled as George trotted into the room at Zoey’s heels, her feather duster tail swishing the air.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Zoey asked anxiously.

“Of course not,” came the instant reply. “George was good company until Matt moved in next door.” Liz chuckled. “She would climb onto his lap when he came over for a visit. The next thing I knew, George was spending more time at the carriage house than she was with me. I teased Matt that he lured her away with kitty treats. He was new in town, though, and didn’t really know anyone. He needed her more.”

It was so like Liz to put someone else’s needs before her own, but Zoey doubted that her grandmother was right. A man like Matt wouldn’t be lonely. Not with a congregation of a hundred people looking out for him.

And even though Zoey was pretty sure Matt had been joking when he’d confessed that George was the first one who heard his sermons, he hadn’t laughed at her when she admitted that the cat had once been her confidante, too.

Matt’s expression had softened and, for a brief moment, they had shared a connection. It was as if he understood the importance of having someone to talk to. Someone who didn’t judge your every thought and action. Who didn’t care that you weren’t perfect…

Zoey shook the thought away.

She couldn’t imagine anyone being critical of Matt. Why would they be? He had never hurt anyone.

Matt didn’t have to live every day with the consequences of a youthful mistake.

“Do you think George would rather be with Matt? I could take her back.” Maybe Matt already regretted his decision to return George to her former owner. After all, Zoey had admitted that she’d abandoned the animal once before.

Liz glanced down at George, draped around Zoey’s ankles like a luxurious feather boa. “I think she’ll wear a path between here and the carriage house. You and Matthew might have to share custody.”

The thought of sharing anything with Matt sent a shiver up Zoey’s arms.

She deliberately steered the conversation to safer ground.

“Did you need anything before I turn in for the night, Gran?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact I could use your opinion.” Liz opened the closet doors and pulled out two blouses. “Which one do you like better?”

“The yellow one,” Zoey said promptly. “It reminds me of spring.”

“I think so, too.” Liz hung the pink shirt back in the closet and draped the yellow one over the back of a chair. “Now, we’re all set.”

“All set for what?”

“For church tomorrow.”

“You’re going to church?” A wave of panic crashed over Zoey, catching her in the undertow.

“Of course.”

“I thought Dr. Parish wanted you to stay home and rest for a few days.”

“And I did.” Liz’s rounded chin lifted a notch, as if she were preparing for an argument. “Four days to be exact.”

Zoey rubbed damp palms against her jeans. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather wait another week?”
Or two?
“Give yourself a little more time to get your strength back?”

“I’m sure.” Liz rummaged through the top drawer of her dresser and pulled out a patterned silk scarf. “It’s only an hour and I’ll be sitting down. I miss Matthew’s sermons and the fellowship.”

Only an hour.

An hour surrounded by people who remembered the person Zoey had been, not the person she was becoming.

An hour of staring at Matt, who had begun to invade her thoughts
and
her dreams. But could never be a part of her future.

“M
ornin’, Pastor.” Daniel Redstone shuffled into the sanctuary. “You’re here bright and early this morning.”

Matt checked a smile. It didn’t pay to point out the obvious—that Daniel had arrived at the church early, too. The elderly carpenter also served as the church’s part-time custodian but refused to be paid for his work.

The men had become good friends, and when Matt needed an older man’s advice, he often turned to Daniel.

“Just spending some time in prayer before the service.” Matt prayed for everyone that walked through the doors on a Sunday morning. He didn’t bother to mention that he’d been there since 6:00 a.m. Or that the majority of his conversation with the Lord had centered on Zoey.

Laughter danced in Daniel’s coffee-brown eyes. “I thought maybe you were taking Martha’s place today.”

Matt stared down at the piano keys. It probably did look a little odd, finding the pastor sitting at the piano instead of kneeling at the altar. “Are you kidding? I’m trying to draw people in, not send them running for cover with their hands over their ears.”

Daniel chuckled. “The psalmist encouraged us to make a joyful noise, if you recall.”

“And that’s exactly what it would be. A joyful
noise.
” Matt stood up and stretched, the dull ache in his back testifying to the length of time he’d been sitting on the wooden bench.

“I’ll put a pot of coffee on.” Daniel backed out of the sanctuary, the doors swishing shut behind him.

So Matt looked as dragged out as he felt.

Matt had spent a restless night thinking about Zoey. Remembering the way she had cuddled George as she shared a tiny piece of her past with him. Not content with that snippet, he had pushed for more. But just like last time, Zoey had shut down.

If his suspicions were correct, Zoey’s parents had gone to Africa without her. Why? Had she wanted to stay in the States? Had their decision to leave Zoey with her grandparents triggered some sort of rebellion? If so, it didn’t seem fair for people to hold something against her that must have happened when she was a teenager.

Isn’t that why you never told anyone about Kristen? You were afraid you’d lose their respect.

The words burned a path through Matt’s conscience. He hadn’t told anyone about Kristen because it was part of his past. The part he’d put behind him when he had surrendered his life to Christ.

Nothing good could possibly come out of revisiting that particular time in his life.

It wasn’t the same.

Zoey’s fingers gripped the steering wheel.

She had dropped Gran off at the front door of the church and went to park the car. It was all she could do not to keep right on driving.

I don’t think I can do this, Lord.

Two hours ago, just as Zoey suspected she would, her grandmother had come downstairs wearing the yellow blouse and a floral skirt. And then she cheerfully announced she felt well enough to go to the Sunday morning worship service.

That made one of them.

But Zoey had taken one look at Gran’s face and knew she wasn’t going to get out of it. She also knew she was going to feel the same way she had the first time she’d walked on stage.

The steeple bell began to chime and tears pricked Zoey’s eyes.

You aren’t alone.

The thought came unbidden, a warm promise smoothing out the edges of her panic.

Peeling her fingers off the steering wheel, she stumbled out of the car.

One foot in front of the other, she told herself. Just the way you’ve been doing it the past few months.

Except this felt more like a leap into a chasm.

“Zoey?”

Zoey’s head snapped up.

Kate broke away from a group of people near the front doors and made her way over, her smile as vibrant as the auburn curls that escaped the loose knot at the base of her neck. “It’s great to see you! I just talked to Liz. She’s waiting for you inside. She always sits in the front pew on the left.”

“If there’s room in the front pew.” Abby Porter suddenly appeared at Zoey’s other side with a tall, dark-haired man in tow. “Zoey, this is my fiancé, Quinn O’Halloran.” Abby leaned against him with a contented sigh.” Quinn, this is Zoey Decker, Liz Decker’s granddaughter—and the newest member of the Knit Our Hearts Together group.”

Zoey might have argued the second point—except that the friends had taken up a collection on Friday evening. Zoey had become the proud recipient of a pair of knitting needles and, compliments of Emma Barlow, a skein of yarn in a shade of blue that happened to be Zoey’s favorite color.

“Nice to meet you, Zoey.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” Zoey couldn’t help but feel a little tongue-tied as a pair of pewter-gray eyes met hers. Quinn O’Halloran had the same traffic-stopping good looks as Matt.

Abby had talked about her upcoming wedding the night the knitting group had met. It sounded as if she wanted an intimate, outdoor ceremony at the bed and breakfast, but her older brother was pushing for a large affair in the ballroom of a swanky, family-owned hotel in Chicago.

With her fiancé—and the irrepressible Kate—in Abby’s corner, it sounded as if she would get her way. But as she listened to Abby’s dreams and plans, Zoey had found herself wishing that she could get to know her better and witness the couple exchange their vows.

And that, Zoey thought, was another reason she had to leave. Mirror Lake was part of her past, not her future.

“I better run downstairs and check the kitchen to make sure everything is set up for fellowship time after the service.” Abby looped an arm around Zoey’s shoulders and gave them a quick squeeze. “See you inside.”

As the couple moved away, Kate rose up on her tiptoes, her gaze scanning the people gathered in the open foyer. “The service will be starting in a few minutes and I need to meet with the woman who volunteered to help me with a youth event tonight. Save me a spot?”

Zoey was so astonished by the request that it took her a moment to answer. “Sure.”

“Great. I’ll be back in a flash.”

Zoey felt like a boat cut loose from its moorings when Kate darted away. She could feel the curious looks cast her way as she made her way down the hall to the sanctuary.

Fortunately, there was no sign of Matt.

So far, so good.

People’s attention would be focused on Gran, and Zoey could keep a low profile.

Matt almost forgot to open the service in prayer when he looked out over the congregation and saw Zoey sitting next to Liz in the front pew. He hadn’t expected to see Liz in church this morning either, considering the strict instructions Dr. Parish had given her not to venture out too quickly. House arrest, Liz had called it.

He tried to catch Zoey’s eye, but her gaze remained riveted on the hymnal in her lap. She didn’t even look up when Kate slid in beside her.

Matt had hoped that Zoey was beginning to relax a little, but her slender frame was as taut as a new bow. She looked as wary and tense as she had the day they’d met.

And she looked as if church was the last place she wanted to be.

Matt’s heart sank.

Was it possible that Zoey wasn’t a believer?

He wasn’t naive enough to assume that being a preacher’s kid guaranteed a commitment of faith, but he’d noticed the Bible Zoey had added to the box of clothing from the backseat of her car the day she arrived. And when something had upset her, she’d sought out the peace and solitude of the sanctuary, the way Matt often did when he was feeling discouraged.

Not only those things, but in the compassion and care she gave Liz, Matt saw the fruit of the spirit in Zoey’s life.

There had to be another reason why she looked ready to bolt.

The choir led the people in the opening song, giving Matt an opportunity to collect his thoughts. When it ended, he stepped down from the altar until he was at eye-level view with the rest of the people.

“Good morning.” Movement ceased and conversations dropped to a whisper. Matt smiled as everyone returned the greeting. “I’m glad you are here. If you are a guest this morning, we have a special gift for you. It’s our way of saying thank you for joining us in worship.”

Acknowledging visitors with a small gift had become an established tradition well before his arrival. The size of the congregation lent itself to what Matt had affectionately dubbed “family style” worship. It was one of the things he loved about Church of the Pines. Visitors never seemed to mind being singled out because most were relatives or friends of members of the congregation.

Matt glanced in Zoey’s direction, waiting for Liz to stand up and introduce Zoey.

Only Liz wasn’t there.

And the anguished look in Zoey’s eyes momentarily stripped the air from Matt’s lungs.

Following his gaze, people shifted in their seats.

If possible, Zoey’s face lost even more color.

Mistake.

The thought ricocheted around his head as their eyes met.

A murmur rippled along the pews as Zoey slowly rose to her feet. She didn’t say her name. She didn’t say anything.

Trudy Kimball, who usually delighted in presenting the welcome baskets, had turned into a statue beside him.

Matt plucked the gift from her hands and made his way over to Zoey, who looked as if she were facing a firing squad.

“We’re glad you could be here this morning.” He stretched out his hand and felt Zoey’s fingers, the tips as cold as if she had a case of frostbite, brush against his.

“Thank you.” She wouldn’t look at him.

Instead of asking her to introduce herself, Matt gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before he returned to the front.

She’d thanked him.

Now Matt hoped she would forgive him.

“Please join me in prayer.”

Zoey closed her eyes, relieved the service had finally come to a close as everyone’s voices blended with Matt’s husky baritone in the final “amen.”

She had tried to lay her feelings before the Lord again—all her insecurities and doubts—but they began to creep in, almost as if they were lying in wait for her along the narrow aisle that stretched between her and the door. All she wanted to do was whisk Gran out the door…

“You’re staying for fellowship hour, aren’t you.”

Zoey cringed. Kate Nichols seemed to have a gift for turning what would normally be a question into a statement of fact.

She’d forgotten about fellowship hour.

“I don’t think…” Over Kate’s shoulder, Zoey saw Rose Williams and several of her friends clustered by the door, staring at her with open disapproval.

“I heard Abby made the cinnamon rolls,” Gran said with a wide smile. A smile that welcomed another opportunity to catch up with her friends.

“Great.” Kate bounced to her feet as if the matter was settled.

“Great,” Zoey echoed weakly.

“Liz Decker! Welcome back! We missed you around here.” A woman with tufts of rooster-red hair reached over the pew and pulled Liz into a crushing embrace. “How was your stay in the hospital? Terrible! I knew it.” The woman answered her own question while continuing to thump Liz on the back like she was a lump of bread dough.

“Do you remember Dr. McAllister’s wife, Faye?” Kate murmured.

“Of course she remembers me,” Faye bellowed. “I may be old, but there’s nothing wrong with my hearing, Kate Nichols.”

Kate snapped to attention like a soldier under inspection. “Of course not, ma’am.”

Faye skewered Zoey with a look. “You’re that Decker girl, aren’t you?”

All Zoey could do was nod.

“Abby said she’d met you. I trust that young woman’s judgment. Saw things in Quinn that no one else saw or wanted to see.” Faye released Liz and stretched out her neck until she and Zoey were almost nose to nose. “I’m her bridesmaid, did she tell you that?”

“Wow.” Zoey realized the proper response probably would have been “no.”

“That’s exactly what I said,” Kate muttered.

“I heard that, too.” Faye linked arms with Liz, who looked a little flushed. “Now, let’s get downstairs before all of Abby’s cinnamon rolls are gone.”

Zoey had no choice but to follow.

As she trailed behind Kate, she saw Matt working his way through the crowd of people milling near the doors.

Zoey wanted to dive under a pew. Something told her that he was headed her way.

Rose Williams must have realized it, too, because her gaze bounced from Zoey to Matt and she frowned.

Reputation is very important.

The words had become branded in Zoey’s mind. Rose’s meaning had been clear, but it wasn’t her reputation that Zoey was afraid would be called into question this time.

It was Matt’s.

“Let’s take a shortcut.” Zoey cut through one of the empty rows.

“Hey!” Kate laughed. “Where’s the fire?”

That’s what Zoey was trying to prevent.

More damage.