Rekindling The Widower's Heart. Glynna Kaye

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      “Well, I think you’ve made the right decision, Delaney. She’s obviously not her usual self.”

      When the conversation ended with a reiteration of Paris’s promise to visit soon, Delaney pocketed her cell phone and returned to the seating area. She had things remaining to be unpacked, but the open space now held a welcoming touch with soft lamplight and fat flickering candles rowed up on top of the woodstove. She’d arranged comfy, oversize throw pillows around the area for additional seating and, keeping the teenagers in mind, subs, chips and veggie sticks were on the coffee table.

      Her introduction at the church service had gone well. Or at least she assumed so since no one had booed or thrown rotten eggs as Luke had led her to anticipate. But he and his daughter were nowhere to be seen that morning.

      She straightened a stack of napkins, then stepped back to look around the room. She already loved this place, the openness of it and the way the sun shone through a fixed window at the front, above the porch. How the ponderosa pine branches cast moving shadows across the polished wooden floor.

      Would the kids enjoy coming here?

      And how would they respond to the annual summer project she’d chosen for them? With the help of Lois Grant, the women’s ministry leader at the church, and a thumbs-up from Pastor McCrae, she’d quickly committed to an undertaking that was already near and dear to her heart. One that without a doubt had God’s seal of approval, too.

      “Delaney?”

      With a sense of anticipation, she turned as the pastor of Christ’s Church and a handful of teens stepped through the door. Introductions were quickly made. Brothers Kendrick and Nelson Bennett, both redheaded and freckle-faced, towered over her though they were probably not much older than sixteen. Curly-haired Sybil, her eyes rimmed in black as dark as her obviously colored tresses, wandered the room with interest, and “Scottie” Scott, a petite brunette with a pixie haircut, immediately made herself at home as well.

      But Anna—a ponytailed, tomboyish-looking blonde dressed in well-worn Levi’s, a striped knit top and Western boots—hung slightly back. Unlike the other teenage girls, her face was devoid of makeup but, nevertheless, a natural prettiness was clearly evident. Hunter, she’d said her last name was. Could half the town be somehow related?

      Fifteen minutes later, when the group grew to a dozen teenagers chatting and meaningfully eyeing the food, Garrett clapped his hands to draw their attention.

      “Let’s give God thanks and dig in.”

      A murmur of agreement rippled among the young people and, following Garrett’s prayer, they loaded their plates.

      That’s when she saw them in the doorway.

      Without a doubt they were father and son, although the younger’s darker hair, parted in the middle, lay in unruly layers down to his shoulders. As tall as his father standing beside him, the lankier, sullen-eyed teen brushed by the older man to saunter over to the seating area where he plopped down on the couch beside Scottie. Bare legs outstretched from his baggy, below-the-knee shorts and feet encased in leather sandals, he cast his father a you-can-leave-any-time-now stare. Then he deliberately slid his arm around the girl next to him and pulled her close.

      Scottie giggled.

      “Delaney.” Luke leveled a meaningful look on the boy, who she guessed to be sixteen or seventeen. “I’d like you to meet my son, Travis.”

      The teen gave her a cursory nod of acknowledgment before reaching for a sandwich.

      Luke frowned, then motioned to the pretty tomboy glaring at Travis. “I assume you’ve already met my daughter, Anna.”

      Delaney steadied herself with her hand to the back of a chair. Luke had three kids, not one? And two of them were teenagers?

      The girl who’d earlier identified herself as a Hunter gave Delaney a reassuring smile, almost as if determined to make up for her older brother’s dearth of manners. Delaney didn’t see much resemblance between father and daughter. She must take after her mom.

      Garrett made a sweeping motion toward the coffee table. “Help yourself to a sandwich, Luke. Delaney’s put out quite a spread here.”

      Luke’s querying gaze met hers as if seeking permission—and maybe forgiveness for his son’s behavior?

      She nodded encouragingly. “There’s more than enough.”

      “Thanks.” A barely-there smile surfaced, causing Delaney’s heartbeat to skip. He looked especially attractive tonight in jeans and a blue T-shirt that not only matched his eyes but emphasized an unquestionably athletic frame. Thank goodness he’d eat and be on his way so she could keep her mind on the youth group business at hand.

      Luke filled his plate, then settled on the floor between Nelson and Kendrick. But even after everyone had devoured most of the food, and Garrett’s short devotion set the tone for an evening of Bible study, discussion and board games, Luke didn’t seem in any hurry to depart.

      To Delaney’s surprise—and irritation—he didn’t.

      * * *

      His son had outdone himself. He hadn’t wanted to come, but Luke had insisted. Understandably, Travis was disappointed that the male college student slated for the summer had pulled out at the last minute. But there was no excuse for what he was doing tonight.

      Delaney had graciously overlooked his behavior. But he could tell by her earlier almost nervous glances around the group as she’d tried unsuccessfully to encourage the sharing of personal experiences and spiritual challenges that his son’s conduct had in many ways set the tone for the evening. He was a popular kid, one who the others looked up to. Despite the buoyant enthusiasm Delaney brought to the mix, if Travis decided youth group was no longer cool, well, it wasn’t going to be cool to anybody else, either.

      Then again, maybe Delaney wasn’t a good fit. He glanced across the room where she’d returned from the kitchen with another supply of snacks. With Garrett called away, she was trying to get the attention of the now-laughing, chatting gathering of young folks setting up board games and paying her little attention.

      A jolt of sympathy—and irritation—shot through him.

      While Travis played a role in the evening’s debacle, this was his cousin’s fault. Garrett had allowed Delaney’s bright smile and pretty face to sway his decision-making in selecting a replacement for the college intern. She was young and inexperienced and it was apparent that the kids, following Travis’s lead, didn’t view her as an adult leader.

      But whoever’s fault it was, he’d had enough of this.

      His piercing whistle sliced through the high-ceilinged room, startling the kids into silence. They turned as one, eyes rounded, to his uncompromising glare. Then he gave a brisk nod toward the equally wide-eyed woman who was all but staring at him openmouthed, a flash of fire lighting her eyes.

      She was mad at him?

      “I think,” he said, dismissing her reaction as he carefully looked at each young person present, “that Ms. Marks has something to say to you.”

      Cowed—except for Travis who cast him a disgruntled look—they all looked at her.

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