Season of Hope Page 10

  Jake pointed his fork at her. “Do so at your own peril. Whoever breaks Dad’s ‘no phones at the table’ rule gets stuck with cleanup.”

  “I’ll risk it. Besides, you definitely want me to take this call.” Tori moved away from the table to stand under one of the apple trees with her back to them. Even though he couldn’t hear her words, he sensed she wasn’t getting good news. She nodded, then her shoulders drooped. She stowed her phone, then caught his gaze and shook her head.

  No?

  About what?

  He moved away from the table and walked over to her. “What’s going on?”

  “That was my friend, Val—the photographer. The one who’d taken the picture of Micah. Her husband, Josh, is a private investigator. I’ve asked him to look into this, but he’s come up with nothing. No one’s seen him since that day. I’m sorry.”

  Jake wrapped an arm around her shoulders and dropped a kiss on the top of her sun-warmed head. The tea he just downed burned in his stomach. “Not your fault. Thanks for trying. Apparently Micah doesn’t want to be found.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know.”

  But deep down he did...and the guilt ate at him.

  They returned to the table to find the adults watching. Dad pushed his plate forward and folded his arms on the table. “Everything okay?”

  Instead of returning to his dinner, Jake shoved a hand in his front pocket and searched for the right words to say. Tori stood next to him and gave his shoulder a little squeeze.

  Claudia climbed away from the table and lowered her voice to a loud whisper. “Hey, kids. Want to go in the kitchen and help me find some ice cream?”

  “Yeah!” they cried in unison and scrambled away from the table.

  Claudia rested a hand on Dad’s shoulder, then as if realizing what she’d done, she jerked it away as her cheeks reddened. She gathered the kids’ plates and followed them across the deck and into the house.

  Once the door slammed behind them, Jake faced Dad and Tucker. “There’s something you need to know. The day after my surgery, Tori showed me some pictures of vets a friend of hers had taken. Tori had told her about the Fatigues to Farming project, and her friend shared her photos.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and blew out a breath as he leaned over and braced the end of the table. “And Micah was in one of the photos.”

  “How do you know it was him?” Tucker pushed his plate aside.

  “Because of this.” Jake turned his arm over, showing his tat. “He had the same ink.”

  Dad cleared his throat. A muscle jumped in the side of his jaw. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

  The controlled tone in Dad’s voice weighed on Jake’s shoulders. Very seldom did Dad use it, but when he did, it was because he was angry and trying not to show it.

  “Because I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up. The photos were a couple of months old. Tori’s friend’s husband is a private investigator. She asked him to look into Micah, but he’s come up with nothing.”

  “You should’ve told me the minute you saw the photos, Jacob.” Dad pounded a closed fist on the table, causing Tori to jump and shoot Jake a startled look. “He’s my son.”

  The frayed edges of pain lacing Dad’s voice speared Jake’s chest.

  Jake schooled his voice and tamped down his own anger and frustration. He forced his words through clenched teeth. “And he’s my brother. My fault he’s gone. If I hadn’t punched him, then maybe he’d still be here...still want to be a part of this family. So it’s my responsibility to bring him home. I was trying to protect you from unnecessary hurt.”

  Dad rested his elbows on the table and dragged his hands over his head. Weariness sagged his shoulders, causing him to look older than his sixty years. “You carry the burdens of this family unnecessarily. Micah’s a grown man who made his own choices. And I don’t need to be protected. I’ve dealt with a lot of hurt in my life, and I’m still surviving. We are strong—Holland strong.” Dad looked at Tori and held out his hand. “I want to see it. The picture of my son.”

  Tori pulled out her phone, scrolled through the photos, then handed it to Dad.

  Dad cradled the phone, bringing it closer to his face as if memorizing every pixel in the photo. After a moment, he covered his eyes with a weathered hand and slid the phone back to Tori. “Send that picture to me, please.”

  “Yes, sir.” Tori tapped on her screen.

  A few seconds later, Dad’s phone chimed.

  “Dad, listen—”

  Dad held up a hand, then looked at Jake with a stern expression he hadn’t seen in years. The rigid jaw and hard eyes—the same look he received upon knowing he’d disappointed his father. “No, you listen. Micah is my son and you should’ve told me.”

  “I’m sorry, Dad. You’re right.” Jake’s face flamed as he ground his teeth and forced even breaths to settle the raging in his chest. He shot a glance at Tori, who looked at him with a sad smile. He didn’t want her pity. And he didn’t need to be talked to like he was fifteen again and broke curfew.

  “Apology accepted. For months I’ve prayed, asking God to watch over my boy. Now I know he’s been answering my prayers. Micah’s alive.”

  “He was sleeping on a park bench. So apparently he doesn’t have the funds to go too far.” Jake reached for the iced tea pitcher and refilled his glass, needing something to do with his hands.

  “God’s watching over him. Now let’s work together—as a family this time—and bring him home.”

  “How? If a private investigator couldn’t find him, what makes you think we can?”

  “Because I believe God redeems broken families.” He thumped his chest. “And I know right here God is going to bring my boy home.”

  “Micah’s in the wind. It’s like no one’s ever seen him. Not even Evan.”

  “We know he’s alive. Where’s your hope, son?”

  Hope.

  What was wrong with him?

  Why couldn’t he step out in faith the way Dad and Tucker did? How could they be so certain of something that seemed so impossible?

  Chapter Eight

  Jake flexed his hand, the skin still pulling around the pink puckered seam across the middle of his palm. An indescribable freedom flowed through him. For the last six weeks, he’d been limited by a splint. And now he could limit it to nighttime use and get back to doing his regular routine.

  Well, sort of.

  He needed to continue his exercises and be careful not to reinjure his hand.

  After listening to the doctor’s final instructions, Jake walked out of the office and stepped into the sunshine. He slipped his sunglasses on his face and headed for his truck, only to find Tucker leaning against it holding two Cuppa Josie’s to-go cups.

  He held up his hand. “Hey, man. Clean bill of health.”

  Tucker handed him a cup. “Good. Now you can quit slacking and pull your weight around the farm.”

  “Yeah, like I enjoyed doing nothing.” He sipped the coffee.

  “I don’t know if I’d be complaining about hanging out with a pretty girl all day.”

  “It’s not like that. Tori and I... I mean...yeah, it’s not like that.”

  “Relax, man. I’m just messing with you.”

  “What are you doing in town? Where are the twins?”

  “I dropped Dad off at therapy, went to get a haircut, then swung by the feed store for a new pair of boots—Gwen says hi by the way. The twins are with their aunt Willow. It’s her day off, so she called and asked if she could take them for the afternoon. They’re making homemade ice cream and slime, hopefully not at the same time.”

  “Twist your arm, right? Speaking of pretty girls, how is your sister-in-law doing?”

  “She’s fine.” Tucker pushed away from the truck. “Listen, you want to grab a bite or somet
hing?”

  “Sure. Taking advantage of your freedom?”

  “I love the kids—don’t get me wrong—but it would be nice to eat a hot meal for a change. How about a pulled pork sandwich from Lena’s? I’ll buy.”

  “Sure.” Jake clapped his brother on the shoulder. “I give you a lotta credit. Not sure I could handle those two monkeys on my own the way you do.”

  They stopped at the corner, waited for the light to turn red, then crossed the street, passing by a large fountain where a couple of kids splashed in the water.

  “You’d find a way if they were your kids. But I’m also fortunate to have you and Dad around to help pick up the slack.”

  “And don’t you forget it.”

  “Believe me, brother, how could I with you reminding me constantly.”

  They headed to an empty lot next to the river where a red food truck with May the Pork Be With You painted on the side had parked. A couple of white plastic tables and chairs sat under a pitched awning. The tangy scents of barbecued pork and french fries scented the air. Seagulls swooped to snatch pieces of stale bread Lena had tossed out her back window. Jake’s mouth watered as soon as they stepped to the window to order.

  Lena Fisher, co-owner with her husband, Lucas, leaned on the window ledge. “Hey, boys. How’s it going?”

  Jake smiled at the petite brunette who had been a couple of years ahead of him in high school. “Hey, Lena. What’s new?”

  She scrunched her face into a glare and wagged a finger at him. “I’m mad at you, Jacob Holland.”

  “What did I do?”

  “More like what you didn’t do.”

  “Okay, fill me in.”

  “Gwen at the feed store mentioned you’re doing a fund-raiser and you’re looking for a caterer. Yet you haven’t called me. What gives?”

  “Gwen talks too much.” Jake took a take-out menu off the small counter and stuffed it in his back pocket. “I’ll be sure to give your information to my fund-raiser coordinator.”

  “Then I’ll be expecting a call.”

  “Sounds good. How about a couple of pulled pork sandwiches?”

  “Sure thing.”

  Within minutes, Jake and Tucker were eating their sandwiches while leaning on the decorative railing on the river walk by the Shelby River. Midmorning sunshine heated Jake’s back. He was half tempted to jump into the water to cool off.

  A couple of kayakers paddled under the bridge to their right and pulled up along the launch pad.

  That gave him an idea.

  Jake downed the rest of his sandwich, wadded his wax paper wrapper into a ball and tossed it into the trash can near the food truck. “Hey, man. I need to get going.”

  “Why? You got a date?”

  Heat warmed Jake’s face. “Not exactly. Since I’ll be back to doing chores tomorrow, I thought I’d see if Tori wanted to go kayaking today.”

  “Wow. You serious?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Things must be going well with you two.”

  “She’s done a lot with this fund-raiser and she’s helping to get us more info on Micah.” Jake shrugged as he pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts for Tori’s number. He tapped on her number and waited for her to answer. When he reached her voice mail, he left a message asking if she’d like to go kayaking, then ended the call and shoved his phone in his back pocket. “I don’t know... I’ve been thinking maybe I should give her a second chance. See what’s there, you know?”

  “You don’t owe me any explanations. Follow your heart.”

  Jake rolled his eyes. “Really, dude? Now you sound like one of those sappy Lifetime movies Mom used to watch.”

  “Rayne used to love those, too. I’d sit through them nightly if it meant having her back. I miss her.” Tucker stared at the water, twisting his wedding band.

  “I know, man. It’s tough.” Jake turned with his back to the river. He rested his elbows on the railing and looked at his brother. “You know Dad and Claudia have a thing going, right?”

  Tucker scoffed and shook his head. “Dad and Claudia? Get out of here. No way, man.”

  “I’m serious. The morning I did the milking, I accidentally walked in on them kissing.”

  “What’d they say?”

  “Nothing. I don’t think they saw me. I bounced pretty quickly.”

  A grin crossed Tuck’s face. “Well, good for them. They deserve it.”

  “Tori said the same thing.”

  “You told her?”

  “Yeah, I was so caught off guard that I left the farmhouse and took a walk, ending up at Tori’s. She was outside planting flowers.”

  Tucker gave him a knowing look and grinned. “Interesting.”

  “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Rayne’s been gone a couple of years. You think about dating again?”

  “No way, man. Not many women want to date a dude who’s still hung up on his late wife. Besides, with my crazy hours and the twins...there’s no time.”

  “When the right girl comes along, all of that will fall into place.”

  “Like Tori did for you. I’m telling you, man. Don’t waste what God has given you. If she’s the love of your life, then take hold of that and don’t let it go.”

  “Thanks for the sage wisdom, Dr. Tucker.” Jake’s phone chimed. He pulled it out of his back pocket, looked at the display and grinned. “Looks like I’m going kayaking.”

  Tori should’ve been thrilled. Elated, even. But when Jake called to see if she’d like to go kayaking and maybe talk, she knew it was time. He needed to know the truth. But the thought of his walking away scared her more than anything.

  “Are you sure it’s not going to tip?” Tori eyed the orange kayak bobbing in the water at the bottom of the launch pad.

  “When are you going to trust me?” Jake held out his hand.

  With a sigh, she gripped his hand and stepped into the cockpit—wasn’t that what he called the sitting area?—one foot at a time, then settled on the cushioned seat. She took the paddle Jake offered and rested it across her lap like he’d directed. She wiped her sweat-slicked hands on the sides of her shorts.

  “Check out the footrests so we can see if they need to be adjusted. Those and the side foam knee rests will help with your balancing as you paddle.”

  She pressed her feet against the rests. “They’re fine.”

  Jake splashed into the water behind her. “I’m going to give you a little shove. You’re just going to float a minute. Wait for me before you begin paddling.”

  Tori’s stomach clenched as she drifted farther away from the safety of the boat launch and closer to heavy rocks jutting above the glassy surface.

  Battling against lumbering gray clouds, sunlight glazed the cold water, glittering like a razor. Towering pines on each side of the river scraped against the sky. Burdened willows hung over the water’s edge, dragging their laden branches against the muddy bank.

  Jake drifted closer to her, slid his sunglasses back on his face and grinned. “Ready?”

  She nodded, willing her heart rate to slow and wishing some of his enthusiasm would drift her way.

  Mimicking him, she gripped the middle of her paddle and dug it into the water on the left side of her kayak, then lifted it in a figure-eight motion and repeated it on the right. Within minutes, she fell into a rhythm and her tense shoulders relaxed. She sat against the cushioned back and breathed in a lungful of fresh air.

  A hawk swooped and soared above the bony branches as a flock of mallard ducks—at least that’s what Jake had called them—flapped and paddled close to the bank dotted with purple flowers. Cool water dripped off her paddle onto her arms coated with coconut-scented sunblock. She shivered and glanced at the clouding sky. “Looks like it’s going to rain.”

&
nbsp; “Seriously, Tori. You need to relax and enjoy the float down the river.”

  Easy for him to say.

  She rested the paddle in her lap as they drifted silently under an old weathered metal bridge covered in graffiti. Doves cooed from the steel rafters. Trees heavy with white blossoms fragranced the air.

  Should’ve been the perfect date.

  Day.

  Not date. This wasn’t a date.

  How many times had she longed for one-on-one time with Jake? And now that she had it, she couldn’t relax.

  Because she worried it could be her last.

  Jake paddled ahead, giving Tori an appealing view of his strong, muscular arms as he dug his paddle into the water and glided effortlessly like the ducks trailing alongside them. He maneuvered his kayak to face her and used his oar as a pointer. “Listen, we’re going to hit a patch of rapids, then we’ll take a break on that island up ahead. Do exactly as I say, and you’ll be fine. Got it?”

  Her eyes widened as she stared over his shoulder at the churning frosted water. Her heart rate picked up speed as she gripped the sides of the kayak. “Don’t leave me.”

  He slid his sunglasses on top of his head and leveled her with a direct look. “I’d never leave you. Someday you’ll believe that.”

  “What if I flip?”

  “Do as I say, and you’ll be fine. These rapids aren’t that bad. I promise.”

  She wanted to believe him, to lean into his words, but the water rushed over surface rocks and sloshed against the sides of her boat, causing fear to bubble in her throat.

  He pointed his paddle toward the quickly approaching rapids. “Stay calm. You may get a little wet, but you’ll dry.” He winked and shot her a half grin. “Follow me through the middle. Use your paddle only to steer away from obstacles. Remain seated and enjoy the ride.”

  She bumped and bounced through the rapids as she seized her paddle and kept her eyes on Jake. Her kayak swiveled sideways, the front knocking against a protruding rock. “Jake!”

  Jake whipped around at the panic in her voice. “Tori, relax. You’re almost out of them. Push the blade of your paddle toward the bow...the front. That’ll turn you away from the rock.”