Read Happily Ever After Online
Authors: Susan May Warren
Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Romance, #Contemporary
Happily Ever After (15 page)
No. Oh my. No. No!”
Early the next morning Mona’s scream woke Joe from a sound and dreamless sleep with the effectiveness of a cold shower. He
sputtered into consciousness. No, she wasn’t standing in the room, but she sounded as if she were, her cry bouncing off his
rafters.
Joe rolled, fell off the sofa onto the bare floor, scrambled to his feet, and tripped over to the window. He couldn’t see
her, but gazing past the house toward the front yard, he spied the reason for her horror—her lawn was splotched in yellow
and white patches.
Joe raked a hand through his hair. What now?
Yanking on a pair of rumpled jeans, he grabbed a sweatshirt and leaped down the stairs. He ran barefoot to the front yard
and saw a distraught Mona and an equally white-faced Liza on the front porch.
Mona didn’t even bother to greet him. “Look at the lawn! It has the measles!”
He didn’t know whether to surrender to defeated laughter or sob with her. Her assessment rang with truth. The lawn appeared
to have come down with the worst case of German measles this side of the Atlantic. Big spots melded with small ones and the
entire surface smelled tart, as if it had been baked in lemon juice.
“What happened?” Joe kept his face stoic. He walked to a large spot, crouched on his hands and knees, and sniffed the stain
as if he were Rip. The odor assaulted his nose.
“I don’t know. It wasn’t like this last night.”
Joe sat back on his haunches. “It smells like weed killer.”
“Weed killer?”
Joe’s chest tightened. He stood up and angled a sorry look at Mona. “Someone is trying to kill your grass.”
Mona’s jaw slowly fell open, and her face began to crumple.
“Why would someone do that?” Liza’s voice shrilled in disbelief.
He didn’t answer. Instead he walked through the grass, kicking through especially pale splotches. A seagull cried overhead.
The waves lapped the shore in rhythm. The rich blue sky was nearly cloudless. It would have been a perfect day except for
the bitter smell that hovered like the specter of death over the Footstep. Joe whirled and stalked toward the porch. Mona
had sunk down on the top step, wrapping her arms around her knees.
“I don’t know why,” Joe finally answered, forcing himself not to take Mona into his arms. He’d have to find a different way
to comfort her.
Mona hid her face in her arms. “Is it ruined?”
“We’ll see.”
Mona’s head popped up. He met her eyes. They were red-rimmed and tortured.
Don’t
give up, Mona.
“I’ll be right back.” Joe hopped off the step and dashed for the side of the house. The hose, curled like a snake, glistened
slick and muddy from its adventure two nights before. Joe snared it and cranked open the squeaky faucet. Water spit from the
rusty hose end. He turned it to full blast, then dragged the hose back to the front yard.
Mona met him at the corner, hands on her hips, eyes wide. “You planning to swamp the place?”
“Yep,” Joe said, grinning. Mona’s brow knit.
“You already tried that tactic, Joe,” Liza called from the porch. “The insurance company won’t buy it a second time.”
Joe sent her a mock glare. “If you two skeptics would hold your tongues, I might be able to save your precious lawn. Drowning
this stuff is exactly what I have in mind.” He marched to the front edge of the lawn and stuck his thumb over the end of the
hose. The water sprayed out at odd angles. He aimed it toward the grass. “Maybe I can wash it away before it settles into
the soil.”
The odor rose in a humid cloud around him, but he noticed the powder pool and foam and finally move in a mini-wave toward
the curb. “I think it might work!” He turned and winked at Mona. The hopeful look she gave him made him want to dance.
“I’ll make coffee.” Mona headed toward the house.Liza was one step behind her, waggling her eyebrows at Joe.
“Hardworking, check.” Liza sidled up to Mona, who stood at the parlor window, cradling an after-lunch cup of coffee. She leaned
close and whispered in Mona’s ear.“Patient, check.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m simply pointing out the obvious. Joe’s been showering the lawn for roughly four hours. The ground is saturated, his bare
feet have to be ice cubes, and he’s out there singing ‘Amazing Grace.’ If that doesn’t fit your description of the perfect
male, nothing will.” Liza leaned against the window frame, looking smug.
“No, Liza,” Mona countered. “You forgot, ‘committed to family.’ Joe’s not committed to anything but his hobo lifestyle. It
would take him all of twenty minutes to clear out of here. And he will. I can tell. He takes off every chance he gets. Where
does he go, anyway?”
Liza shrugged.
Mona turned back to the sight of Joe cleansing her dusted yard. “He’s hardworking, I’ll give him that.”
“And cute. That five-o’clock shadow only adds to his rugged appeal.”
Mona rolled her eyes. But she couldn’t deny the truth of Liza’s assessment. Joe had flown to her aid so quickly this morning,
he hadn’t had the chance to shave. Since then, he’d been watering her lawn. She watched him aim the spray at her baby poplar.
He was certainly thorough. And she had never been more thankful for his quick thinking. Except, of course, when he dove into
the Kettle River after her. She had yet to contemplate, let alone accept, her profound relief when she found herself rescued,
safely nestled inside his strong arms. She had successfully refuted all memory of that moment, as well as the kiss he’d given
her on the stairs. The horror of the flood, and now the damaged yard, had bowled her over, and she felt it was easier to drown
in worry than surrender to the feelings that threatened to tug her under.
But those feelings were becoming harder to fight.
God, I am so
weak—
why
couldn’t
You have sent a
retiree to help me fix up the place? Someone married,
with a passel of grandchildren and a sour disposition?
Yet God had sent Joe, and his presence at the Footstep buoyed her spirit. Despite her cold shoulder, he’d been warm and kind
to her. She didn’t deserve his accepting friendship. The acrid flavor of regret lined her thoughts. What if Liza was right?
What if he was the perfect man and she was driving him away? But wasn’t he the one who was leaving? She was only protecting
her heart from the inevitable.
God, please make me strong. Help
me not to lose my heart to a rootless drifter and forget
everything
I’ve
worked so hard for.
I’ve
made You a
promise—
help me keep it!
Mona examined her coffee. “He’s leaving, Liza.There’s no use in my getting involved with him. He’s been more places than I
can even dream of.”
“Maybe he would stay if you asked him to,” Liza said softly.
Mona bit her lower lip, shaking her head. “There’s too much at stake. I have to get the Footstep up and running before I even
think
about a man. This isn’t the right time. And he’s not the right man.”
“Still waiting for Jonah?”
Mona bristled. “Jonah doesn’t exist. He’s a character in a book, a fairy tale. Just like my dream man.” She smiled wryly at
Liza.
“I’m starved!” Joe’s voice announced his entrance and Mona jumped. Her handyman slopped into the room, damp and disheveled.
His jean cuffs were wet and his short brown whiskers glistened. He’d pushed up his sweatshirt sleeves over tanned forearms
and his cap, worn backward on his head, had done a miserable job of shielding his handsome face from the kiss of the sun.
He looked positively . . . heartbreakingly handsome. Her words replayed in her head like a taunt:
He’s
not the
right man.
He shivered slightly. “Coffee! Oh, sustenance to a starving soul.” His blue eyes twinkled, and Mona heard the echo of her
words die in the face of his warm smile. His presence seemed to turn her brain to honey.
Liza leaned close to Mona. “Coffee lover, check,” she whispered. Then she turned to Joe. “Cup of coffee coming right up for
our local hero.” She headed for the kitchen.
Joe turned to Mona, his eyes bright. “I think the grass will live. The sun’s out, the sky is clear, and the swamp in your
front yard will evaporate in no time. Maybe in a few days we can put fertilizer down, but I’ll have to see. We don’t want
to burn it.”
“Were you a landscaper in an earlier life?” Mona, painfully aware of her racing pulse, fought to make sure it didn’t infect
her voice.
Joe laughed. “No. I’ve tended a few gardens in my life, but no landscaping jobs. Just old-fashioned fix-it projects, a few
stints as a ranch hand and reindeer herder.”
“Reindeer?”
She thought she saw Joe color. His eyes lost their twinkle, and in a heartbeat his smile vanished, as if a door had slammed
shut on his sunny disposition.“Forget I mentioned it.” His cold tone hit her like a slap. Maybe she’d been mistaken about
his warming presence.
“You brought it up.” She studied her coffee, but out of the corner of her eye she saw him wince.
“Sorry. My mistake.” He abruptly whirled and headed for the kitchen, nearly breaking the sound barrier.
Mona stood, reeling from his frosty exit. Well,
vulnerable
was certainly
not
on his list of attributes!
Joe’s neck ached and his arm muscles screamed. He never knew plastering a ceiling could be so painful. Or perhaps the hurt
came from the confused, even angry, glances Mona kept spiking his way from the next room. She scrubbed at the stain on the
coffee bar with unequaled passion, the steam from her demeanor nearly peeling off the dark tar. Joe gritted his teeth and
focused on smoothing the ceiling. Just when she was starting to warm to him again, he had to summon his defenses and stomp
all over their tender friendship. He regretted his impulsive words.
“It’s as smooth as frosting on a wedding cake.”
Liza’s voice startled him. He lost his balance, dancing as the step stool wiggled, then toppled over. He landed with a thump
on the floor.
“Oh! Sorry, Joe! I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Joe waved his forgiveness as he climbed to his feet .Mona had stopped her scouring, and he caught her concerned expression.
He returned a half smile, and she instantly hid her worry under a guise of vigorous scrubbing.
“Anyway, nice ceiling. Can’t even tell it tried to kill me.” Liza grinned widely.
“Who’s trying to kill you, beautiful?”
Joe scowled, recognizing Brian’s syrupy voice and abrasive cologne.
Liza whirled and delight lit her face. “Brian! We haven’t seen you since Saturday! Where have you been?”She nearly skipped
over to greet him.
Joe turned, glimpsed Mona’s welcoming smile as she approached, and something inside him burned.
Brian hugged Liza with one arm and caught Mona in the other. Joe was glad to see Mona didn’t relax into the embrace like Liza
did.
“How are my girls?” Brian asked.
“Great,” Liza replied. “We had a mishap this morning, but Joe saved us and I think we’re back on schedule.”
“Mishap?” Joe echoed incredulously.
Mona, too, appeared less than pleased at her roommate’s choice of words. “I think
mishap
is a little too soft. Try
ambush.”
Brian’s smile dimmed and worry creased his face.“What happened?”
Joe took a step toward the trio, his eyes fixed on Brian. “Someone poured weed killer all over their front lawn last night.”
He had to admit, if Brian was the culprit, he was the consummate actor. Surprise flooded Brian’s expression. His jaw slacked
and his eyes darkened appropriately in defense of Mona’s property. “Did you report it to the police?”
Mona blinked at him. “No. I didn’t even think of it.Joe immediately started washing it away.”
Brian pinned a suspicious look on Joe. “I guess the evidence has been destroyed then, right?”
Joe’s mouth gaped, and an unnerving anger rose in him. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the putty knife. “I did the
first thing I thought of. I saved the lawn.”