Mending Fences. Jenna Mindel

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СКАЧАТЬ T-shirt showed wet spots from washing their dinner dishes. She tried not to stare. “I’ll get more clean sheets.” She hurried out into the hall, turning to peek back in. “Good night, Angie.”

      “Night, Laura.” Angie smiled.

      Laura dashed for the closet. Stuffing the old bedding into a hamper, she grabbed fresh linens for Jack. Her breath came quick as if she’d run up a flight of stairs.

      She entered the spare room and lit an oil lantern. She could hear the muffled voices of Jack and Angie through the wall. Even if Jack made her feel a little unsettled, it was definitely a comfort having them here. She’d sleep better knowing someone else was in the house.

      Laura pulled off the quilt and sheets of the twin bed, remembering how Angie had perked up when Jack had called her brother, Ben, to check on him after the storm had settled.

      Laura had always wanted a brother or sister—someone to talk to or even fight with, anything to cut through the silence of growing up.

      “Thanks again. You didn’t have to do this.” Jack’s voice was low, but unsure. Self-conscious.

      “But I think Angie’s glad. Sort of a transition before the ‘barn.’” Laura made quote marks with her fingers.

      He laughed softly. “You’re probably right. Can I help with that?”

      She felt him lean toward her and her pulse picked up speed. “No problem, I got it.”

      She tucked the top sheet under the corner of the mattress then reached for the quilt. He bent to grab it, too. They were close. They both straightened. A low rumble of thunder shook the ground, and Laura dropped the quilt.

      “You sure you’re okay?” The corners of Jack’s mouth twitched.

      “I just don’t like storms. They make me nervous.”

      “I thought salespeople were fearless.” Jack picked up the quilt.

      “We’re a neurotic bunch, but we act like we’ve got it all together.”

      Jack laughed, a deep, rich sound.

      “What about you? Isn’t there anything you’re afraid of?” she asked.

      Jack spread the quilt over the bed then sat on the edge. “Thirteen-year-old girls and eighteen-year-old boys out on their own for the first time.”

      Laura looked into his troubled eyes. He worried about his kids. She imagined all parents did that—some more than others. But Jack admitted his concerns. He didn’t act like he had all the answers and that made him that much more appealing. “Why not stay in Lansing? Wouldn’t that have been easier?”

      He looked away and fluffed the pillow. “Angie started hanging out with the wrong kids, skipping class and giving my sister a hard time about where she was headed after school. I caught her smoking cigarettes in our backyard. That’s not my Angie. We needed a change, starting with me. I need to be around more, plain and simple.”

      Lightning flashed and thunder grumbled in the distance. Laura wiped her hands along the sides of her shorts. “Sounds like you’re doing the right thing, then.”

      Jack ran a hand through his hair. “I hope so.”

      She didn’t know what it was like to be a parent, but she knew what it was like to be a kid. Jack struck her as a dad who cared, deeply. Angie had a parent who tried. That had to count for something.

      “It’s late,” Laura said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

      “Good night, and thanks.” His hair stuck up in odd directions and his eyelids were puffy.

       The urge to smooth back his hair tugged at Laura. The worst part was that he looked like he might welcome her touch.

      “Good night, Jack.” She hurried out the door before she gave in to her impulse.

      Laura breathed in the scent of fresh-brewed coffee and sizzling bacon as she bustled around the kitchen hoping the aroma of food teased the senses of her guests enough to wake them. It was nearly nine o’clock and she had to head out to the hospital. After her pasta fiasco, she wanted to prove to Angie that she could make breakfast.

      She poured herself a cup of coffee and listened. She heard male humming coming from outside. She didn’t recognize the tune but the sweet sound intrigued her.

      With a light knock, Jack opened the screen door and stepped into the kitchen. “Morning.”

      “You’re up.”

      “Just getting a head start on unpacking. Is that coffee up for grabs?”

      “Sure is. I’ll have breakfast ready in a minute if you’re interested.”

      Jack grabbed a mug from the counter and filled it with coffee, milk and sugar—just like Laura took hers. “I’m starved.”

      She smiled. “What were you humming?”

      His cheeks flushed. “Just an old hymn.”

      Laura smiled. It had been ages since she heard a male voice in this house, especially in the morning. “My dad used to sing.”

      Jack nodded. “Sounds like you were pretty close to him.”

      “I was.”

      He sipped his coffee. “This is good.”

      Laura wrinkled her nose. “My mom’s grocery-store variety. Too bad I didn’t bring the good stuff. There’s this awesome coffee shop around the corner from my condo. They roast their own beans.”

      He laughed. “So you like more cultured coffee?”

      She turned the slices of bacon over. “Don’t you?”

      “I don’t care as long as it’s hot and fresh. Just don’t give me decaf.”

      “You’ll fit right in up here. You can’t get good coffee without driving into Houghton or Hancock.”

      “This area is not without culture.”

      The colleges, tourists and local artists gave the connected cities of Houghton and Hancock an attractive refinement. Some of it even trickled out into the four-corner towns like the one her mother lived near. But not much. “Yeah, right.”

      He looked offended. “I’m serious. During the peak of its mining day, this area was a draw for actors and playwrights from as far as the East Coast.”

      “Thanks for the history lesson, Dr. Stahl, but I learned all that in school. Houghton and Hancock are just a couple of college towns separated by a pretty river.”

      She patted his arm, but quickly pulled back when she felt his muscle flex beneath her touch. “Nice try, though.”

      Jack looked at his arm before glancing back at her. “Can I help?”

      She grabbed a carton of eggs, ignoring the brief tension СКАЧАТЬ