Love Inspired May 2015 #2 (34 page)

Restless energy sent her back to her summer to-do list pinned to the cork board above the stand. Most of the remaining things were outdoor tasks, and the brilliantly clear morning had given way to clouds and showers off and on. Her gaze went to the sideboard she'd bought last weekend. Cleaning it out and polishing it would kill some time. Then, maybe she'd call Emily and see if she wanted to catch whatever was showing at the Strand this week. They could ask Tessa Hamilton to join them for coffee or something after she finished showing the film. Make it a girls' night out.

Emily picked up Becca's call on the first ring with a breathless, “Hello.”

“Hi, it's Becca. I was wondering if you're up for a girls' night out tonight.”

“No, sorry. One of Drew's campers had to come today instead of tomorrow. We're heading down to Albany to pick her up at the bus station. Long story. Her mother only bought her a ticket to Albany, rather than to Schroon Lake.”

“Okay. I'll talk to you later.” Becca hung up and tapped her contact list. Connor's name showed second on the list. She could call Jared, include Connor and Tessa in the movie invitation, as if it was a group get-together.

She clicked off her phone in disgust. What was she, one of her sophomore students with a mad crush on a senior, conniving ways to be in the same place her crush was? This morning notwithstanding, she and Jared had agreed to put off any exploration of a relationship until after the Zoning Board vote, when she'd thought the Sheriff would back off scrutinizing her every move. Now she had the Family Court hearing. Ken would still be watching. She massaged her temples. But hadn't God led her to Jared's strength? Or was she once again misreading the direction, imposing her own desire to be with Jared over His words?

Becca eyed the sideboard. Some good hard work might help her clear her mind and open it to His guidance.
Where to start?
She lined up her cleaning supplies and lemon oil on the table with a pan of warm water. Might as well begin with the drawers. She opened the first one, drew it all the way out and emptied the dirt and dust in the waste basket before gently scrubbing it clean. She did the same with the second one. Once she had them done, she'd spread the lemon oil over the wood, as she'd seen her grandmother do.

The third drawer stuck about halfway. She pulled harder, and it came out with the crunch of crumpling paper. Becca peered into the sideboard. It looked like an envelope. It must have slipped between the side of the drawer and the sideboard. She opened the door below the drawer and crouched to remove the yellowed envelope. A piece of paper with writing on it showed through the tear the drawer had ripped open. It must be a letter. Becca stood and moved to toss the envelope in the wastebasket. She stopped. The sideboard was at least one hundred years old, possibly older. The matching pieces Becca's grandmother had given her had belonged to Becca's great-grandmother. Her history teacher persona took over. The letter might have historical significance. Maybe a letter from a World War I soldier to his sweetheart.

A closer look told Becca her imagination was getting away from her. The envelope wasn't yellowed. It was yellow. Several months ago the Paradox Lake General Store had gotten an order of multi-colored envelopes that hadn't sold. At the end, the store owner had reduced the price to almost nothing. Bert had probably taken advantage of the bargain. Again, she went to throw the envelope out. The letter could be one Bert had written but hadn't been able to mail before he got so sick. She pulled out the page. An early June date was written in the top right hand corner and Jared's name was in the salutation. She should put it back in the envelope and give it to Jared. As she started to fold the letter closed, her ex-father-in-law's name, followed by Jared's father's name, drew her attention. She sat in one of the dining room chairs and smoothed out the page on the table.

When she'd finished the letter, she stared at the shaky scribbled writing.
Unbelievable.
Outrage and compassion for Jared and his family washed away the guilt she'd felt when she'd started reading. Wait until she showed it to Jared. But that would be after she confronted the Sheriff.

* * *

A few hours later, the sideboard was clean and oiled until it glistened in the late afternoon sun that streamed through the bay window. While she'd worked, Becca had thanked the Lord more than once for leading her to the letter, and she'd gone over Bert's words in her head until she was ready for the Sheriff's arrival. A car door slammed outside, pulling her from her inspection of the restored sideboard.

Becca got to the kitchen door just before Ari burst in followed by Brendon and their grandparents. “Hi, guys. Did you have a good time?”

Both kids glanced back at the Sheriff and Debbie.

“I guess,” Ari said.

“Sure.” Brendon shrugged.

“Well, I have a little surprise for you,” Becca said with forced cheerfulness. “Your grandmother is going to take you to the soft-serve ice-cream stand.”

Debbie looked over the kids' heads at Becca, clearly confused. “Ken and I were going right home. We hadn't planned on ice cream.”

“What's this about?” the Sheriff demanded.

“You and I need to talk privately.”

“Is this about the Family Court letter?”

Ari pressed herself to Becca's side, and Becca wrapped her arm around her daughter's shoulder. Brendon stared at the floor.

“Ken. The kids,” Debbie said, her gaze darting from Ari to Brendon.

“That's between you and Matt,” he said, ignoring his wife's warning.

Becca straightened to her full height. “No, we need to talk about another letter, a letter Bert Miller wrote.”

The Sheriff stiffened. “Debbie, take the kids for ice cream.”

“Come on, Ari, Brendon,” she said without question, pushing the screen door open.

Ari looked up at Becca. The distress in her eyes took a chink out of Becca's bravado. “Go, ahead. It's okay,” she said.

“Yeah,” Brendon said. “Grandma's going to take us to get ice cream so Mom can talk some grown-up stuff with Grandpa.”

Becca gave silent thanks for her son's perceptiveness and help with his sister.

The Sheriff stared at her narrowed eyed until the sound of Debbie starting the car filtered in to the house. “So, Donnelly got the letter.”

“You know about the letter?”

“Bert threatened he was going to write Donnelly. What did he tell you it says?”

“Let's sit.” Becca motioned him to the table. “Jared didn't tell me anything. I found the letter in the sideboard I bought from the woman who inherited his house.”

“The house that was supposed to be Debbie's and mine.” The Sheriff gripped the edge of the table. “You haven't told Donnelly?”

“No.”

“Good. I'll take the letter and make the Family Court hearing go away.”

“Are you trying to bribe me?”

“No,” he blustered. “Matt and Crystal are having second thoughts about Brendon and Ari being with them all of the time. He has a lot of business commitments.”

“And they might get in the way?”

“I didn't say that. Now, give me the letter.”

The edge in the Sheriff's voice sent a ripple of fear through Becca. She drew on her inner strength to continue. “No, I'm not going to. It's all true, isn't it?”

“I can't tell you whether or not it's true if I don't know what it says. Let me look at it.” He held his hand out for the letter.

Becca ignored him. “You arrested Jared's father and let him be charged and convicted of vehicular assault for running a stop sign, plowing into Liz Whittan's car and putting her in a wheelchair for life, when you knew he didn't do it.”

“That's ridiculous.”

“You didn't know that Bert was driving the car, not Jared's father?”

“No!”

“Then why did Bert think you did? In the letter, he apologized to Jared, saying he lied to you and you lied for him.”

“That's not the way it was.” The Sheriff's bluster drained away. “I didn't know before Jerry, Jared's father, was convicted. When I got to the scene, both men were out of the car. It was Jerry's car. Bert said Jerry was driving, and Jerry didn't say otherwise.” The Sheriff rubbed his chin. “Jerry was really out of it. He didn't say much of anything when I arrested him, or later. You have to understand. There was bad blood between us. He stole the girl I was going to marry, Jared's mother, Gail. We went together all through high school and had an understanding. Jerry made her life torture.”

Becca didn't know what to say. The Sheriff was holding a grudge for something that happened more than thirty-five years ago. He and Debbie had been married—happily, she'd thought—for thirty-five years.

“Don't look at me like that. I love Debbie. But that doesn't mean I forgot Gail or have to forgive Jerry.”

“When did you know Bert was driving?”

“Not for sure until the week he died. I went with Debbie to visit him, and he told me he'd written the letter to Jared. I suspected Bert might have been a few months after Jerry was released from jail when Bert told Debbie he'd written a will giving her most of his property. She's his cousin, was his closest living relative. But they've never been close. Bert made an off-hand comment that I took to mean he was making her his heir because he thought I'd known he was driving and had kept my mouth shut.

“So Debbie knows?”

“No.” A note of fear showed in his voice. “She was in the kitchen putting away the groceries we'd picked up for him. You've got to understand what it would do to me, my reputation, if this gets out.”

“Like you considered what you've been doing to Jared?”

The Sheriff avoided her gaze. “Everything started falling apart when Bert died. Instead of Debbie inheriting Bert's property, most of it went to the Donnellys and that home-health aide. We'd planned on that money for our retirement. And I was afraid you wouldn't let us see the kids once we'd retired to Florida.”

Disgust roiled inside Becca. And to think she'd once tried to love this man as a father.

“Donnelly showed up and it became apparent he hadn't received Bert's letter. I thought I could discredit him and he'd go away and make plans to build his racetrack somewhere else before Bert's letter caught up with him. Bert and Jerry are both gone. No harm, no foul.”

She stared at him in disbelief. “You saw no harm to the Donnellys? What were you thinking?”

He cleared his throat and dropped his head to his chest. “I wasn't. I was reacting. I wanted to get Debbie down to Florida so that she'd be spared some of the shame if Donnelly decided to come back later and make a big deal about it.”

At least he cared something about someone else. No, that wasn't entirely fair. He loved the kids in his own way.

“You're going to tell Donnelly.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes.” She reached out to him. “But I won't keep Ari and Brendon from you. They like doing things with you and Debbie.” She hesitated and then went on, “It's Matt and Crystal that they aren't crazy about spending time with.” Becca braced herself for the Sheriff's blast. She'd insulted Matt, his pride and joy.

“I know. The Family Court petition was Debbie and my idea, so we'd be able to see the kids after we move. I'll get Matt to drop it.”

“Thank you. You and Debbie and I can get together and work out a visitation agreement.”

“You'd do that for us? You forgive me?”

“I'm doing it for Brendon and Ari, and I'll work on the forgiveness. But I think you have a few others you have to ask for forgiveness. And I trust you'll talk with Debbie?”

He blanched and nodded.

Becca heard the slam of the kitchen screen door snapping shut and breathed a calming breath.

“Mommy.” Ari raced into the dining room. “Grandma let me get a double chocolate-vanilla swirl.” The evidence of the treat showed on the little girl's hands and T-shirt.

“Thanks, Debbie.”

Her ex-mother-in-law's forehead wrinkled in question. “You're welcome.”

The Sheriff dragged himself from his chair, showing every year of his age and then some. “We'd better get going.” He and Debbie left.

“You guys need to go get ready for bed, but give me a hug first.”

Ari rushed over and flung her arms around Becca. Brendon gave her a tolerant look and allowed her to hug him. When had he gotten so grown up?

While the kids were upstairs, Becca called Jared, first on his cell phone. It went right to his voice mail. More often than not, there wasn't any service at the church or parsonage. She couldn't wait to talk with him, to tell him her prayers had been answered. She dialed the parsonage's landline. The phone rang a few times and went to Connor's voice mail. She left a message for Jared to call her, knowing she probably wouldn't be able to sleep a wink tonight without talking to him.

Chapter Thirteen

H
e was a coward. But a coward for a good reason. He wouldn't jeopardize Becca's custody of Brendon and Ari. Jared flicked the directional on his bike and hand signaled for the exit to the hotel outside of Albany where he'd made a room reservation last night. Fortunately for him, the person taking the reservation was a fan, and he'd been able to arrange an eight o'clock check-in.

Jared had gotten home before Connor yesterday evening and played the voice mail, deleting Becca's message. That didn't stop it from bouncing around in his head. She had sounded so happy. She had something important to tell him. When they'd last talked she had been so furious with her ex-in-laws and Matt that he was certain she was going to tell him that she'd dropped her opposition to his racing school, no matter about the Family Court petition. His heart broke in a million pieces. If she'd do that for him, he could do what he now realized he had to do. Leave Paradox Lake and get out of her life. He prayed Becca would see that it would be best for everyone.

Once he was in his hotel room, he called his brother.

Connor picked up immediately. “Hey, you sure were out of here early. I didn't even hear you leave.”

“Yeah. I have unexpected business in Albany.” He wasn't lying. Until he'd made his decision last night, he hadn't expected to be meeting with his attorney this morning. “Can you tell Hope I'm out of town on business, like I was for the race, and I'll call her every day until I get back?”

“Every day? Reminder, Bro, you have your public hearing tomorrow night. Whatever other business you have, I can't believe you'd forgotten that.”

Jared clenched his jaw. He was trying to do exactly that. Forget the whole Paradox Lake project and his plans to settle there. And it wasn't easy. Not when Becca kept appearing in his mind, her eyes dewy from their kiss the other afternoon in the meadow.

“Wait,” Connor said. “Hope just got up. You can talk to her yourself.”

“Hi, Jared.”

“Hi, pumpkin.”

“Where are you? Aren't you taking me to The Kids' Place today?”

“No, I had to go on a business trip. Connor will take you.”

“You
are
coming back?”

Jared's heart constricted. Hope had lost so many people close to her. “Of course I'm coming back, in a couple days. Remember how I went to the race a couple of weeks ago? Like that.”

“But I didn't get to kiss you goodbye.”

“Tell you what. You can send me a kiss over the phone and I'll send you one back.”

Hope made a loud smacking sound that Jared duplicated. “Tell Connor that I'll call him later.”

“Okay. Will you bring me a present like you did last time?”

“Yes, I'll bring you a present. Bye-bye.” He hung up and powered off his cell phone. He'd clue his brother in to his plans later. And Hope. He had to take care explaining to her that he was moving to Albany. She was better off in Paradox Lake, where she had friends and Connor and Josh. Connor was the one who wanted marriage and family, and probably had the best shot at doing that. He was less damaged than Jared and Josh. Albany was only an hour and a half away. He could zip up to see her almost anytime. After fifteen years of thinking mainly of himself, it was time he put others first.

The afternoon meeting with Dan went perfectly from a business perspective. Not only had the attorney worked all weekend scouting potential properties, but he'd also lined up a couple of potential investors in the racing school. They were going to meet with them tomorrow morning, and he had set up appointments with a real estate agent to view some houses and condos tomorrow afternoon and evening. He needed something to do to keep his mind off the public hearing he wouldn't be attending tomorrow evening.

Knowing Connor would be picking up Hope from The Kids' Place about now, he called the house and left a message for him and Hope before heading down to the hotel fitness center. He hoped it had some heavy weights he could use to work off his restlessness. He had no idea taking the right actions could feel so wrong.

* * *

Where was he?
Becca looked out over the fast-filling town hall meeting room. Jared's lawyer sat at the front table without Jared. The exuberance she'd woken up with Monday morning knowing she was free to vote her conscience for the racing school tonight, had diminished with each unanswered call she'd made and text she'd sent to Jared. Connor didn't seem to know what was going on with his brother, either, other than Jared had gone to Albany on business yesterday. As a last resort, she stooped to talking with Hope. All she'd gotten from the little girl was that Jared would be home in a couple days, like before, and was bringing her a present. Concern choked her. Jared wouldn't miss the meeting. It was too important.

Tom Hill banged his gavel on the dais. “Everyone take a seat. I'm calling this public hearing to order.” Tom went through the formalities of getting the hearing under way. “So that everyone gets their say tonight, we're limiting each speaker to no more than ten minutes. The first person on the list is Eli Peyton. Eli, are you here?”

Eli rose from a chair in the center of the room and made his way to the microphone set up in the front. “I support Jared Donnelly's racing school as a teacher and guidance counselor and as a parent,” he began before going on to list all of his reasons and explaining how he saw the racing program as a potential resource for troubled students.

“Thank you, Eli,” Tom interrupted. “The secretary says your time is up.”

Emily's husband, Drew, spoke next about how the racing program could be integrated with the summer camp sessions and other activities he offered at Sonrise Camp and Conference Center. Liz Whittan followed, rolling her wheelchair up the narrow center aisle between the rows of chairs. She ended her short statement with, “Jared Donnelly is not his father.” Applause rippled across the room, punctuated with a couple of boos.

When the room quieted, Tom called the next person on the list. One of Becca's Conifer Road neighbors strode to the microphone. “The endorsements from the teachers and youth workers are fine and good, but we still have some unanswered questions about traffic congestion and the proximity of the racetrack to Camp Northern Lights.”

Anne Hazard stood. “I can answer your questions, if that's agreeable with Jared's representative.”

Jared's attorney rose and turned to the crowd. “That won't be necessary. Jared is considering another location and directed me to withdraw his zoning request if he wasn't here by seven-thirty.” Dan nodded to the clock on the wall above the dais. “It's seven-forty-five. He must have decided on the other location.”

A buzz went through the room before it settled to almost dead silence. Becca clenched her folded hands in front of her until her fingers hurt, her temperature rising with her fury. Jared hadn't said a word about that Saturday. How could he abandon his project, his dream—and her? Where was his strength to confront his foes, the strength she'd drawn on to muster enough of her own to challenge the Sheriff?

“Maybe he ran into traffic,” she blurted. “Can't you call him?”

Everyone's attention turned to her. She straightened and held her head up high.

“No need.” Jared's voice came from the doorway to the hall, saving her from whatever spontaneous reaction she might have exhibited next.

Her pulse quickened as he threaded his way to the front of the room, eschewing the microphone. “If it's all right with the board, I'll answer your question.”

“Go ahead,” Tom said.

“But first, I
was
going to withdraw the project. My attorney found me another property in the Albany area that may be better suited than my property here, and supporters, people who want to invest with me, in fact.”

The crowd murmured.

“And thinking about that offer early this evening is what changed my mind. The people in Albany want to help build my racing school as a financial investment.” He looked pointedly at Eli, Drew, Liz and others, ending with Becca.

She met his gaze with an equally pointed one.

“The people here...”

Was that a crack she heard in his deep voice?

“The people here who support the school support it as an investment in our community.”

At least three-quarters of the room roared in approval. Becca had to grab the sides of her seat to stop herself from joining a small, but loud standing ovation.

Jared raised his hand to quiet his supporters so he could respond to the man at the microphone. “Addressing your concerns about traffic, the Department of Transportation and GreenSpaces have come up with a resolution that should relieve most people's unease. Traffic will be rerouted to bypass Conifer Road. No roundabout will be needed. We have maps available for inspection. And I'm donating land to Camp Northern Lights to buffer it from the racing school and track. Does that answer your question?”

“Yes.”

“Anything else?”

“No. Thank you.” Becca's neighbor returned to his seat, and Jared took the chair next to his attorney.

Tom ran through the rest of the speaker list, and Becca watched with admiration as Jared fielded questions from both supporters and opponents. While confidence wasn't something she'd ever seen lacking in Jared, he had a different way about him tonight, more at peace with himself.

“We're down to the last speaker on the list,” Tom said. He called one of the Sheriff's close friends.

The man stood. “I've given my time to Ken Norton.”

Jared drew his lips into a hard line that made Becca's stomach churn. What was Ken doing? She thought they'd agreed he would lay off Jared. Although, thinking back, all she remembered him actually saying was that he'd get Matt to withdraw the Family Court petition. The one thing she did know was that she was done kowtowing to the Sheriff. Whatever he might say against Jared, she was prepared to defend him.

Jared avoided her gaze and tapped his fingertips together in a tent in front of him, any remnants of the earlier peace she'd seen gone.

“As most of you know, I've been vehemently opposed to this project from the start.”

Becca's shoulders tightened. She braced herself for the worse.

The Sheriff glanced over his shoulder at her and back at the crowd. “None of that opposition came from anything to do with the project itself. But I don't need to go into that here. I've done some hard thinking. The project itself is a good one. Good for our kids. Good for our community. It's something we should all get behind.”

* * *

Jared dropped both hands to the table with a slap that garnered a startled look from his attorney. Sheriff Norton had just endorsed his project. In public. He looked up at Becca. She had a silly grin on her face. What was going on?

He asked Dan if they could request a short break, his mind racing over who he might be able to corner for information. Not Becca
.
That could be a conflict of interest for her. Not the Sheriff.
On general principles, he couldn't bring himself to ask him.

Before Dan could gain recognition to request the break, Tom asked the board for a motion to vote on the variance. The motion was made and seconded. He'd have to wait for any information.

Tom cast his vote in favor and polled the four other members in order of tenure. The secretary voted with Tom. The next member voted against. Two for, one against.

Jared rubbed the back of his neck as he watched Becca nibble her lower lip. As the newest member, she had the last and possibly deciding vote. He couldn't read her uncertainty. Was she still undecided, or contemplating what voting him down would do to them? No way after their evening at his grandmother's house could she claim there wasn't any them.

“Bob?” Tom addressed the next board member, a friend of the Sheriff. “No.” He glared at the Sheriff, who glared back stony-faced.

It was up to Becca. Jared offered up a short prayer, not for her vote, but for them. He loved her. He could build his school near Albany and run it from Paradox Lake. None of his reasons for the school, except helping kids somewhere, mattered anymore.

“Becca?”

Jared's heart leaped to his throat.

“Yes,” she said loud and strong, a nanosecond after Tom spoke her name.

He jumped to his feet and whooped, as much for the spark of joy he saw in Becca's eyes when she cast her vote as for his project's approval.

“We did it,” Dan said, offering his hand in congratulations.

“Uh, yeah. Thanks, man. I've got to do something. I'll talk to you tomorrow.” He left Dan sitting at the table and bounded up to the dais to catch Becca.

“We've got to talk,” he said.

“I should say so.”

Her stern teacher voice set him on edge. He was almost glad to have the Sheriff push through the crowd of people wanting to congratulate him and appear at his side. He knew how to deal with the Sheriff.

“Congratulations, Donnelly.” The Sheriff's words had the same edge to them he always used when talking to Jared. “Becca, Debbie and I will keep the kids overnight, so you two can straighten things out.”

The Sheriff eyed him with what Jared would take as fear in anyone else. Things were getting curiouser and curiouser, to quote the abridged version of
Alice in Wonderland
that he'd read to Hope.

“Thanks, Ken,” she said. “I appreciate it.”

“Where do you want to talk?” Jared asked in a voice pitched low to keep their business as private as he could with a crowd of people closing in on him.

“Go ahead and accept your congratulations, and meet me at my house afterward.”

If it had been up to him, he would have skipped the congratulations, but tonight he was following Becca's lead. He accepted all the slaps on the back and handshakes with the composure his former publicist had drilled into him for public appearances, all the time wanting to blow them all off, jump on his bike and race to Becca's. Despite his best efforts to move through the crowd, it was nearly an hour later when he finally pulled in her driveway.