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The sound of water running in the bathroom sink echoed into the expanse of the room. Outside the Warehouse, wind buffeted. Ice crystals pecked at the windows. A floorboard creaked.
“Kara—”
“Trey—”
They both stopped. He nodded toward her. “Ladies first.”
Please God, get me through this.
“I’m sorry for not telling everyone that you were watching movies with me that night. That you were nowhere near the Logan property when it caught on fire. When I heard you’d been accused, arrested—” She took a ragged breath, voice quavering as her tear-filled eyes sought his. “Can you ever forgive me?”
“Already did, darlin’,” his low voice assured her. “A long time ago.”
She stared at him. Not comprehending the kindness reflected in his eyes. Wasn’t this where he was supposed to pull out his cell phone and dial 911? Report her for withholding evidence in a criminal case?
“I knew you were scared.” His words washed over her in a reassuring wave. “Understood why you didn’t want anyone to know you were with me. Especially your mom.”
“I’m so sorry.” But not for the reasons he thought. There was so much more to the story of that night that he didn’t know. So much more that she couldn’t tell. “If I could go back, as I’ve done ten thousand times in my mind, I’d do it all over again. But right, this time. I hate myself for what you had to go through.”
“No need for that.” His eyes grew thoughtful as if mentally traveling back in time. “I admit juvenile detention wasn’t any fun. Or the unending community service projects. Or summer school so I could get my diploma. But I know now it could have been worse.”
She tilted her head, hanging on his every word. “How could it have been worse?”
“I could have been eighteen, not just shy of it,” he continued. “It could have been national forest service property instead of Duffy Logan’s, a forgiving church member. And my dad could have been the town drunk instead of a respected pastor.”
She clenched her fists in an effort to warm ice-cold fingers. To stop their trembling. “Why didn’t you rat me out? Make me come forward?”
He hadn’t attempted to contact her in the days after his arrest. Not once.
“I knew you were mad at me, you know, for—” He swallowed. Glanced away.
“Having the guts to say no?” Heat burned her cheeks as the memory flared. How he’d responded to her kisses. At first. Then the look on his face when she made that inappropriate proposal. How he’d stepped back. Held her at arms’ length. Apologized for getting carried away. Left without another word.
Don’t deny his assumption. Let him think you sold him out to retain driving privileges and peace with your mom. Sold him out for childish revenge.
“It’s all in the past.” Gentle eyes echoed his smile. “Let’s leave it there.”
Wonder filled her. “Thank you.”
Missy moved restlessly in his arms, and Kara took a step toward the door. She needed to get away. Come to terms with what had just transpired. At long last she’d apologized. And he’d forgiven. “I’d better let you get the girls to bed. But—”
There was one more thing she needed to know.
He shushed the little girl, who was beginning to fuss. “Yeah?”
“You never liked this town, even before the fire. Why did you come back?”
He took a breath. “Guess you might call it unfinished business.”
She shook her head, not following his train of thought.
“Injury sidelined me from the rodeo circuit. Then I was hired to relaunch the Logan facility. Planned to get in and get out.”
How was that old business? Restoring the place he’d been accused of torching?
“Reyna’s been dogging me to stay on. To settle down here. A few months ago I’d have said no way.” He gazed down at Missy cuddled in his arms. “But the place grows on you, you know? And with Missy and Mary… Well, I’ve decided to clear my name and call Canyon Springs home.”
Her heart jolted. “How are you going to do that? Nobody’s going to listen to me at this late date. Believe that I’m your alibi.”
“You’re right. And I won’t ask you to do that. This isn’t your battle. It’s mine.”
“Then how?”
“I have to prove myself to the community. That I’m a man of integrity. A man to be trusted.” He glanced down at the again-dozing Missy. “You see, Kara, you’re not the only person who didn’t come forward. Someone else knows I didn’t set that fire.”
Kara’s fists clenched in her pockets.
“One other person knows, because they started it. Left my cigarette lighter there. And I intend to find out who that person is.”
“He’s what?”
Kara clutched her mother’s arm as she helped her to the house’s back door after church on Sunday. She’d hardly slept at all last night. No wonder, after Trey’s bombshell. But surely she misunderstood what her mom said.
“You heard me, doll. Coming for lunch.” Her mother grasped the railing to steady herself. “His nieces, too, of course.”
Trey could be arriving any minute?
Last night he’d no more voiced his intention to find the real arsonist when Mary had trotted into the room to show off her T-shirt PJs. Avoiding Trey’s gaze, Kara had oohed and aahed to the little girl’s delight. Then made her escape.
But now this. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.
Trey had forgiven her when he thought she’d just been a scared, stupid kid. One who immaturely reacted out of fear. Immature revenge. He had no idea she’d known this whole time who’d started the fire.
He’d hate her when he found out.
She held open the door to the enclosed porch for her mom, greeted by the tantalizing scent of a Crock-Pot pork roast and the lingering aroma of an apple pie baked earlier that morning. Mom knew that kind of thing wasn’t on her doctor-mandated diet, but she’d stubbornly called the Warehouse yesterday afternoon and insisted Kara pick up the meat and other ingredients for a few of her many specialties. Said she felt like having company, which had long been a custom on Sundays before her late autumn heart attack. She’d always liked to see who God led her way to invite from church or the neighborhood.
But why Trey of all people?
When they’d divested themselves of coats and boots, they moved on into the kitchen where her mother laid out five plates and handed her a fistful of silverware.
“Kind of surprised you’d invite Trey Kenton, Mom.” She kept her voice even as she arranged the utensils. Years ago Mom had expressly forbidden her to see him outside the church youth group activities. Not that she always obeyed. “I didn’t even know he was in town until Friday night.”
“Need to talk business with him.”
“What kind of business?”
“Looks like he’ll be renting the Warehouse apartment.”
Several spoons slipped from her fingers and clattered to the hardwood floor. She knelt to pick them up with a trembling hand. She tossed the utensils into the sink, then opened a drawer for replacements. “Don’t you think maybe we should have discussed this first?”
“Got to chattin’ with him after you went off with Meg this morning. Returned Missy’s mitten, by the way.” Mom winked. “He says he’s indebted to you. Missy had already lost another mitten on his watch this week. He’s down to the last spare pair and figured he’d be answering to Reyna if at least one of them didn’t turn up.”
She gave her mother a weak smile. She should have returned the mitten herself so Mom wouldn’t have had an excuse to strike up a conversation with him this morning.
“But, Mom, for years you haven’t wanted to deal with the headaches renters can bring.” She smoothed a turned-up corner of the tablecloth. “Don’t forget, I won’t be here much longer to oversee a rental. Run interference if things don’t work out.”
“Haven’t forgotten.” Mom opened a cabinet and pulled out a serving platter. “But he mentioned you’d let him and the girls stay there last night. One thing led to another and, well, it seemed like the right thing to do. Him being the pastor’s brother and all.”
“But if you’ve decided to rent, wouldn’t it be better to get the word out to your friends first? See if they know a nice, quiet, local girl who’d put up pretty curtains and keep the place neat and clean? I don’t want to sound biased, but most guys are notoriously bad housekeepers.”
Mom was okay with some clutter but a stickler for cleanliness, so throwing out that reminder was worth a shot.
Her mother shrugged. “He’s going to use it as an office, too, so I assume he’ll keep it presentable.”
“But Trey Kenton? Mom, don’t you remember how you—”
“Boys grow up.”
Now where had she heard that before?
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