that what Zach had seen in her?
Actually, standing there with her now, the afternoon sun casting a glow on those auburn strands of hair, Kieran noted that she had a natural beauty that was almost alluring. But he shook off the inappropriate assessment as quickly as it awakened. Dana had been Zach’s girlfriend, and even though he was gone now, Kieran wasn’t about to overstep the bounds of male brotherhood.
As he got into his car, he made up his mind to do whatever he could to help the Lawsons move on with their lives.
Growing up in the Robinson family, Kieran had learned that money could fix just about anything. But all the gold in Fort Knox wasn’t going to make things better or easier for him. Not when so many different feelings were in play and he’d always made it a point to avoid any touchy-feely stuff.
Still, while he might fall miserably short in his attempt to offer Zach’s family his emotional support, he’d do his best.
He owed his best friend that much.
* * *
Dana had managed to hold back her tears during the funeral. But once she climbed into her car, her eyes welled.
She reached into the pocket of her skirt, pulled out the wadded tissue she’d stashed there earlier and blotted her tears.
Would she make it through the day without breaking down? She certainly hoped so. She wanted to stay strong for Sam and Sandra.
How are you holding up? Kieran had asked just minutes before. It seemed to be a regular question she’d been faced with...at school, at work and, most recently, at the Leaning L while she’d helped the church women prepare the food for today.
She really didn’t blame people for assuming she’d been devastated by Zach’s loss. She mourned him, of course, but she wasn’t the grieving fiancée they thought her to be. They’d dated six months, but in fact, she wasn’t sure she’d even been his girlfriend. She’d certainly found him attractive, and she’d adored his sense of humor. But it was his family life that had appealed to her the most. That was the reason she’d continued to date Zach after she realized he wasn’t Mr. Right. She suspected Zach had known it, too.
His parents had created a warm, loving home on the Leaning L, and they’d always made her feel welcome. In addition, she adored Rosie, Zach’s sweet, precocious daughter. Since her mother had signed over full custody to Zach right after birth, that pretty much made Rosie an orphan, just like Dana was.
When Dana was twelve, she’d lost her parents in an accident. Without anyone who was either willing or able to step up and take her in, she’d gone into foster care.
Fortunately, Rosie wouldn’t have to worry about that. The Lawsons had always been a big part of her life, so it wasn’t like she’d be completely uprooted and shipped off to another home to live with people she didn’t know. Dana took great comfort in that.
When she arrived at the Leaning L, she parked next to Kieran’s Mercedes. It was only natural that he’d be invited back to the Lawsons’ house. He and Zach had been the best of friends, even though the two men had been so dissimilar—and not just when it came to the clothes they wore, the music they liked or the social circles in which they ran.
Still, they’d been very close.
Much closer than Dana and Zach had ever been.
Before Dana could climb the wooden porch steps and let herself in, Kieran swung open the front door as if he’d been waiting just for her. Then again, she’d been right behind him.
“Come on in.” He stepped aside so she could enter the small, cozy house that had always reminded her of the kind of place a ranching family might have lived in during the 1950s, with its rough-hewn paneling, the overstuffed, floral furniture with crocheted doilies over the armrests and a rag rug on the floor. It was all very Norman Rockwell. The only thing missing was a big, boxy television with a small black-and-white screen.
Maybe that was another reason she liked this house—well, the vintage feel as well as the warm welcome she’d always received.
As she crossed the threshold, she caught a whiff of Kieran’s cologne, something musky and woodsy, reminding her of a lazy summer day in the mountains. Something undoubtedly expensive and sold at only the finest stores in Austin.
“Sandra took Rosie to her room for a nap,” Kieran said. “The poor kid could hardly hold her eyes open.”
Dana acknowledged the comment with a nod, then scanned the living room, where the pastor of the church and several close family friends had gathered. They were seated on the sofa as well as on some of the chairs that had been moved from around the linen-covered table in the adjoining dining room.
The women from Sandra’s Bible study and Dana had arrived early this morning and prepared the food, which would be set out as a buffet. Before leaving for the service, they’d stacked blue paper plates, white napkins and plasticware at one edge of the rectangular table, and placed a bouquet of spring flowers in the center.
Sam greeted Dana with a hug. “I’m glad you’re here. Sandra and I wanted to talk to you as well as to Kieran. As soon as Rosie is sound asleep, we can go into the kitchen, where it’ll be more private.”
“Of course.” Dana had no idea what they intended to say, but she was glad to be included in what seemed like a family discussion. She shot a glance at Kieran. Their gazes locked, their sympathies clearly united.
Moments later, Sandra entered the living room, her eyes dry, yet still red-rimmed. “Rosie’s finally taking a nap.”
Sam nodded, then lifted his right hand, directing them to the doorway that led to the kitchen. “Shall we?”
When they entered the small, cozy kitchen, the counters lined with cakes and platters of cookies, memories slammed into Dana, causing her to pause in the middle of the room. One mental snapshot after another struck, the first one reminding her of the cold, rainy night last winter when she’d joined Sam, Sandra and Zach to play cards. The memories of times spent in this very room clicked in her mind as if she were watching the scenes on an old nickelodeon—the morning she’d helped Sandra bake cakes for the church bazaar, the afternoon she’d washed a bushel of apples that had come from trees in the family orchard, then learned how to make and can applesauce.
This particular kitchen, with its light green walls, white Formica countertops and floral printed café curtains, was also where Dana had last seen Zach alive and well. Sandra had invited her to dinner just three days before the accident. They’d had pot roast, carrots, mashed potatoes and gravy...
Dana shook off the memories before she fell apart and cried for all she’d lost. She’d loved her visits to the Leaning L, but now that Zach was gone, she might never be invited back.
Sandra, always the hostess, asked, “Would anyone like coffee?”
“Let me serve it for you,” Dana said.
Normally, Zach’s mom would have declined the help, but this wasn’t a normal day. She took a seat at the antique oak table, practically collapsing in her chair.
Dana placed cream and sugar on the table, then filled several mugs with hot coffee and passed them out to Sam, Sandra, Zach and the pastor of the Oakdale Community Church, who’d been asked to join them in the kitchen. Since Dana preferred tea, she passed on having anything at all to drink.
“Last night,” Sam began, “we... That is, me and...my wife...” His voice wobbled and cracked. He cleared his throat, paused a beat, then looked to the minister.
Pastor Mark nodded, then pushed his mug aside. “Sam and Sandra read over Zach’s will last night, and they have a concern as well as a heartfelt request.”
Dana still had no clue where this conversation was heading, but it was obviously in a direction the older couple needed their minister’s help expressing.
Pastor Mark Wilder, who’d served his congregation for the last thirty years, scooted back