“I guess you know a little about that, don’t you?”
Her harsh words stunned him. No, they flat-out pummeled him. Finding all the bruises that never faded and pressing down. Hard.
No one on the team ever brought up his desertion. They didn’t bring up the dishonorable discharge, the prison sentence, any of it.
Was Courtney really still that angry? Had he hurt her that much when he hadn’t kissed her back? What about what she’d said just a moment ago about the team missing him? Just forced politeness?
He picked his phone back up. “Court, I . . . I’m—”
“Don’t want to talk about it, Luke.”
“But don’t we have to at some point? I’m still a part of the team and I want to know we can still work together and—”
“Cowboys just got a first down. Now’s not the time. Why’d you call?”
“I don’t know. Wanted advice, I guess. Wanted to know if anyone else knows something I don’t about this Noah guy. Wanted to know why Flagg is doing this to me and—”
His train of thought completely derailed as his gaze hooked on the sight outside his bedroom window. Was that smoke curling from the back of the main house?
What the—? He squinted, peering through the near-dark of the evening. Definitely smoke.
He scoured the tiny room for his shoes.
“Luke?” Courtney’s muffled voice sounded from the phone.
He didn’t even bother ending the call, just tossed his phone on the bed, yanked on his shoes. He ran from the room and burst out of the cottage. Black tendrils curled from the kitchen’s back window and that distant beeping sound was probably the smoke detector.
He raced across the lawn and pushed his way in through the sunroom doors. “Jen?”
Cade’s screams wailed through the house. Lucas surged into the kitchen in mission mode—focus homing in on the scene in front of him. Cade pounding on his high-chair tray, Violet bouncing up and down on the bench at the breakfast nook, Colie unmoving and unhelpful across from her.
And Jenessa over by the oven, waving a hot pad over whatever it was in that glass pan in front of her, burnt to a black crisp. Not a fire. But smoke fogged around her and . . . were those tears tracking down her cheeks?
He snapped into action. Accept the mission. Identify the strategy. Long, determined strides propelled him to the island counter. He hefted himself up and reached the detector with ease. Complete the mission.
The moment the incessant beeping quieted, so did Cade’s cries. Lucas hopped down as sudden, blessed silence echoed in the room.
Until Violet’s tinny, timid question. “What happened to your arms?”
He looked down so fast his neck cricked. He hadn’t pulled on his usual long sleeves. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.
“Do they hurt?” Violet’s eyes were wide.
Jenessa brushed past him. She scooped Cade from his high chair and reached for Violet’s hand. “I’m sorry supper’s going to be a little while longer. Colie, take your brother. We never did start Toy Story 3 last night, but the disc is already in the Blu-ray player.”
She shooed them from the room and turned to Lucas. “I’m sorry about . . .” She flicked a glance to his arms. “Anyway, I guess now you know my kitchen skills are lacking. Worse, in this short of a time, I’ve become that caretaker who plops kids in front of a TV when she needs a break.”
It took everything in him not to rub his palms over his arms, scratch at the scars, hide them behind his back. She’s seen them before. But what they represented . . .
He swallowed. “You’re not the first person to burn supper. And Toy Story 3 is the best of the series so—” At the pools in her eyes, he forgot all about his arms. “Hey, what is this? It’s just food, Jen. Want me to whip something up?”
She yanked open the silverware drawer. “It’s not just dinner, it’s this whole day. I’m in completely over my head. I should’ve known when we could barely make it out the door this morning in one piece.”
Why was she choosing now to straighten the silverware? Forks, spoons, knives. The movement of her hands was almost frantic.
“I made a really stupid promise to Mayor Milt. Paige and I almost missed the cutoff for getting the paper to the printer. I have a whole checklist of stuff to do for Carmen. And then there’s Colie and school and . . . seriously, what was I thinking, Lucas? What made me think I’m capable of taking care of three kids?”
He moved to her side and reached one hand to cover both of hers. “Did you have time to take a shower this morning, Jen?”
She turned her glistening blue eyes on him. “What? I smell, too?”
He gave her a half-grin. “No. Well, that is, I suppose considering the charred casserole or whatever it is . . . was—”
“Lasagna. Mara dropped it off.”
“Right. So there’s a bit of a smoky smell to everything right now, including you, but that isn’t why I asked. You said something about barely making it out the door this morning and I made an educated guess. And I’m also gonna guess that maybe you could use ten or fifteen minutes alone.”
“But the kids—”
“I’ll feed them. If you’ll remember, I make great pancakes. Maybe I’ll even get fancy and do French toast. Go get cleaned up. I can handle this.”
He’d blown it with Noah today. With Sam. With Courtney. But at least he could do this—make Jen’s night a little easier.
Lucas Danby was a miracle-worker and a godsend in one blessed package. The low rumble of his voice carried from Violet’s bedroom, where he’d made himself at home in the chair beside her bed. Jenessa had peeked in a minute ago, just in time to catch Violet giggling over the book he was reading.
And now she hovered outside the door, back against the hallway wall, arms wrapped around the front of her pink fleece pullover.
He’d made supper. He’d convinced her not to feel guilty for letting the kids eat in front of the TV. Had even pulled Cade’s high chair into the den and fed him bite sized pieces of syrup-drenched French toast and cut-up scrambled eggs.
And then, while the kids finished their movie, he’d let Jenessa spill every frustrating minute of her day. From the mayor’s ambush, to her worries about how to keep up with the newspaper while caring for the kids, to that meeting with the principal and her disastrous conversation with Colie afterward. He’d even looked at Carmen’s list of requirements for the house and helped her come up with a plan.
He really was a remarkable listener. Everyone liked to tease Lucas about his quiet ways, but beyond his reticence to talk about himself was a skill at making space for others to free their burdens. Maybe that’s why he was mentoring that younger guy.
“Time to turn the page, Vi.” Lucas’s low tones reached into the hallway again.
“Mr. Luke?”
She heard the sound of a page’s shuffle. Lucas’s murmured, “Hmm?”
“Can’t you tell me why your arms are like that? Colie said it isn’t polite to ask, but I know I won’t be able to sleep if I don’t.”
Jenessa tipped her head to the side. By the time she’d returned to the kitchen after her shower two hours ago, Lucas had apparently found the hoodie he’d left here the other night. He’d been wearing it ever since. How would he answer Vi now?