when she’d been convinced she’d never be happy again.
Seth was only a little kid. All he knew was now. And somehow, she had the feeling his big brother, although he meant well, was as clueless as the kid. Conflicting instincts clashed inside her—compassion versus self-preservation, the need to help duking it out with the realization that wanting to help didn’t necessarily mean she could.
But could she live with herself if she didn’t at least try?
Taylor slurped up the rest of her bottled juice as she watched Blair sink into a small chair beside Seth, trying to engage him in conversation, as she’d been doing without much success the whole week. If anyone could get through, it was Blair. Not only did the teen adore little kids—she’d already talked to Taylor about majoring in early childhood education in college—but she, too, knew what it was to lose someone she loved. In her case, it was the uncle who, with Jenna, had adopted and raised her before anybody knew Hank was her father and who had died of cancer a few years back. But after a minute or two, the little boy shook his head and Blair got up, shooting Taylor a helpless glance before sitting down at another table where a group of little girls were having giggle fits over heaven knew what.
Never in her life had Taylor been able to see a hurting child and not try to comfort him or her. And she had about as much chance of success at trying to resist comforting this one as she did of staying away from chocolate.
“Maddie Logan’s coming in this afternoon to help. She could take over your group,” Didi said, as if reading her mind. And with that, Taylor sighed, heaved her duff off the edge of the stage and gave in to the inevitable.
Even if the distrust in Seth’s eyes as he watched her approach wasn’t exactly inspiring her with confidence. She shooed the rest of the kids outside and then sat at the table beside him. He’d brought his lunch today, a banana and cookies along with the sandwich, Taylor saw. She imagined Joe packing it for him, unable to squelch the warm feeling attendant thereto.
“Hey, honey.” She angled her head to peer into the glowering face. “That looks like a good lunch you’ve got there.”
He poked at his peanut butter sandwich and then shrugged. “I’m not hungry.”
“Well, that’s okay. It happens sometimes. So…you and your brother are staying in one of the cabins up at the Double Arrow, huh?”
A nod.
“I hear they’re very nice—”
“She made you come over here and talk to me, didn’t she?”
“Who?”
He nodded toward Didi. “Her.”
“Oh. No. She didn’t. Totally my idea.”
After a long pause, Seth said, “You wanna see a picture of my mom?”
“Sure.”
The boy reached around and yanked out a slim cloth wallet from his back pocket, opening it to a photo of a smiling young woman with dark hair and eyes.
“Oh, Seth…she was very pretty.”
“I know.” He contemplated the photo for a couple of seconds, then said, “Do you think I’ll see her again? In heaven?”
Oh, boy. “Maybe,” Taylor said. At his distressed look, she smiled. “I don’t actually know how all that works. But I’ve always thought I’d like to see my father again.”
His eyes met hers, interested. “He’s dead, too?”
“Yeah. For a long time, now.”
“You still miss him?”
“Sometimes. But I can think about him now without it hurting so much.”
Seth broke the eye contact, slapping shut the wallet and shoving it back in his pocket. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
“Okay.”
“What time is it?”
“About twelve-thirty.”
“How long till Joe comes to get me?”
“He said he’d be here at four.”
“He didn’t get here until five yesterday.”
“Guess he got tied up—”
“Can I go outside now?”
Taylor said, “Sure.” But she caught the boy’s sticky, warm hand as he rose. He didn’t try to get free, but he kept his gaze fixed firmly on the tabletop. “It’s all really awful, isn’t it?” she said.
For a long moment, he just stood there, his breath spurting from his nose in ragged little pants. Then, finally, his eyes shot to hers, all his sorrow and confusion upending on her like a bucket of cold, grimy water before he yanked his hand from her grasp and strode wordlessly away.
So help her, if Joe didn’t show up on time today, she was going to string him up by his…toes.
At four-fifteen, Didi informed Taylor she had a call, she could take it on the phone in the church office. Taylor locked eyes with the older woman for a moment, just long enough to get that sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that always accompanied bad news. Her imagination was all set to take flight when Didi rudely yanked it back to earth with, “It’s Seth’s brother.”
Taylor frowned, not processing either the information itself or all the wherewithals behind it. “Why’s he calling me?”
“That, I couldn’t tell you. But he didn’t sound so good.”
Taylor tromped off to the office and picked up the phone, plucking at her T-shirt’s neckline. There was actually an air conditioner in here, but the secretary—who only worked three mornings a week—always turned it off when she went home, leaving the small room feeling like a recently vacated shower stall.
“This is Taylor—”
“Taylor, Joe Salazar. I’m really sorry, but I’m running behind and it looks like I’m going to be late picking up Seth tonight.”
“Again?”
A pause. “Again.”
She shut her eyes. “How late?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve got people here, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover… If I leave here by five-thirty, I’ll be back in Haven by half past six or thereabouts. I know you all don’t stay open that late—”
“Whoa, hold on—it doesn’t take an hour to get here from the Double Arrow. Where are you?”
Another pause. “Tulsa.”
“Tulsa? Why the heck are you in Tulsa?”
“For work. It’s a long story. Which I doubt you want to hear.”
“You’d be surprised.”
“Then I’ll tell you sometime. Right now, though, I’ve got a whole bunch of people giving me dirty looks because I’m over here talking to you and not over there talking to them, so the upshot is…” Big sigh. “Look, I know this stinks, but is there any way somebody could watch Seth until I get back?”
Taylor shut her eyes again, praying for patience. Her prayer was not answered. “Oh, I suppose…”
“Could you do it? I mean, I know that’s asking a lot. And you probably have plans…”
“No, I don’t have plans” flew right out of her mouth before she could catch it, only then she lost her breath. “But I’m not real sure that’s such a good idea—”
“I agree. But you’re the only one he talks about. I think he likes you.”
Setting aside his “I agree” comment to examine at a later date, she said, “He sure has a funny way of showing it.”