Happily Ever After (19 page)

You look like a pretzel,” Mona commented, leaning over the bed of the pickup truck, where Joe was curled up clutching her
extra motel pillow. Rip lay at his feet, looking profoundly more rested than his owner, although she had to admit, despite
his soot-stained shirt and ripped jeans, her handyman looked amazingly handsome this morning.

Joe opened one eye and stretched his arms. “Beats a motel bed,” he said, grinning.

“Sorry about booking the last room,” she said. She’d offered her floor, but he insisted he preferred his truck. She suspected
he also preferred a perch where he could monitor her securely locked motel door. It warmed her to know he wanted to protect
her.

Liza appeared at the door of the room, looking bedraggled and drawn.

“Liza’s looking unusually rough this morning,” Joe commented, winking at Mona. She punched him playfully, in defense of her
roommate.

Joe swung out of the bed of the truck and landed next to her. “I’ll take you two out for breakfast. I know a great spot that
sells deep-fried elephant ears guaranteed to chew through the lining of your stomach.”

“Oh, yum,” Mona said, touched by his offer.

The World’s Best Donuts dining area was packed, all seven tables. Joe, Mona, and Liza stood at the door, toting their greasy
bag of morning goodies and balancing coffee, creamer, and little red stir sticks.

“Over here!” Edith Draper stood, attracting the attention of every patron in the room, and waved the crew over to her table.
Next to her, Chuck Parson, Mona’s Realtor, sent them a sympathetic look. The trio found vacant chairs from around the room
and scooted under the tiny orange Formica table.

Edith immediately covered Mona’s hand with her own. “I’m so sorry about the fire, honey.”

Mona blinked back tears. She thought she’d cried herself dry last night into the ratty motel pillow.“Thanks, Edith,” she said
in an unsteady voice.

“And don’t worry; I won’t mention a word to your mother. I am sure you’ll be back on your feet in no time.”

Mona started to reach for the bakery bag. She didn’t want to discuss her plans within earshot of the town. Despite her cool
composure, she was fragmenting quickly.

Joe handed her a napkin-wrapped elephant ear. Liza had chosen a chocolate-covered donut, and Joe folded his own gooey long
john into his mouth.

Chuck sat next to Joe, whispering into his ear while Joe nodded. Mona narrowed her eyes, wondering at their conversation.
Joe flashed her a wide, conspiratorial grin.

“Now, I suppose, Brian will get his wish,” Edith blurted, scorn lacing her tone.

Mona frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Edith stirred her coffee. “I told you Brian wanted to buy your place. You are going to sell, aren’t you?”

“I-I don’t know yet,” Mona stammered. Despair gathered in her chest.

“Fight for your dreams, sweetie.” Edith patted her arm. “I would hate to see a Speedy Burger built over that cute little Victorian.”

“What are you talking about, Mrs. Draper?” Joe leaned forward, an odd expression on his face.

Edith’s gaze traveled around the group. “Oh, my goodness, did I forget to tell you?”

Everyone nodded.

“Brian bid on the house because he wanted to tear it down and build a Speedy Burger!”

“Speedy Burger?” Mona sputtered.

Edith shook her head. “Yes, can you believe it? A greasy fast-food joint right in the middle of our quaint Main Street. He
even flew up the suits from the franchise headquarters in Chicago.”

“Chicago?” Joe echoed.

Edith nodded. “But I thought he had abandoned the dream months ago when I told him Mona had outbid him on the house.”

Joe made a face. “I don’t think so.” He fished around in his back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of thin paper stock.
“This is a boarding-pass stub for a Northwest flight out of Duluth to Chicago. Last week. I picked it up at the house last
night. . . .”

Mona’s heart lodged in her throat.

“Liza, were you with Brian all evening?” Joe asked, eyes narrowed.

Liza appeared startled, then paled. “After we dropped off Mona, he took me to Tastee Treat. I went inside to wait for him
while he parked the car. . . .” Her voice became stilted. “I didn’t see him again until after you rescued Mona. I completely
forgot—I took off for the house when I saw the orange glow from Tastee Treat . . .” Her voice trailed off again, and Mona
saw Liza’s eyes widen in shock.

Silence enfolded them and Mona felt slightly ill. “He’s been behind this the entire time.” Her voice shook.“Brian Whitney’s
been trying to drive me away!”

“Brian Whitney tried to kill you,” Joe stated icily.

Mona saw the expression of rage gathering on his face, and her mouth went dry. He bounded to his feet.“Joe, no! Wait,” she
gasped.

“I’ll be back.”

Mona froze in horror as she watched him leave.

“I’d better call Sam,” Edith said in a tight voice.

Slowing as he turned onto Brian’s street, he crawled along, scanning the mailboxes. He found Whitney’s name spelled out on
a black tin box, and noticed the weasel’s Honda parked in the gravel drive.

“Quiet, Rip,” he commanded as he turned off the motor. He thought the dog actually glared at him. “I know, but I need to solve
this myself.”

Joe climbed out of the truck, barely closing the door. He had to admit, Brian’s digs were nicer than he expected for a small-town
city official. The one-story ranch was well groomed. Hosta edged a flagstone path leading up to a long covered porch. A pot
of blooming red geraniums guarded the front door. Finding it unlocked, Joe opened it, wincing when the door squeaked slightly.
Every hair on his neck raised, and his heart hammered in betraying pitches.

Heavy green polyester drapes darkened the room, and the musty scent of a sixties-era orange shag carpet told Joe that Brian
hadn’t done much updating to the inside of his home.

The refrigerator clicked on and hummed as Joe tiptoed through the shadowed kitchen, timing his steps with the plink of a dripping
faucet. In the dark windowless hall he spied a light streaming from an open bedroom door. Shuffling closer, he heard a muttering
voice. Joe avoided crossing the stream of light and instead lingered in the shadows and watched around the doorframe as shirts,
pants, papers, and books landed in soft thumps in an open suitcase on the bed.

Brian was running. He’d destroyed Mona’s dreams, and now he was escaping like a gutter rat. Anger ignited Joe’s adrenaline.

Joe stormed into the room, slamming the door against the wall. “Whitney, what are you doing?” His voice was not nearly as
calm as he would have liked.

Brian whirled. His sweaty, red face, a sharp contrast to his crisp two-piece suit, betrayed panic. His expression instantly
tightened into a glower. Joe saw his reflection in Brian’s dark eyes and knew he wasn’t dealing with a rational man. He instinctively
balled his fists.

Brian exploded in fury. “Get out of here!” He lunged at Joe and smashed him into an oak wardrobe. Blinking, Joe saw a fist
headed toward his face and ducked. Brian’s fist landed in the wardrobe door. He cursed.

Joe hurled himself at Brian, hooked a foot around Brian’s leg, and pushed. The two men crashed onto the floor. Joe threw an
arm against Brian’s neck and pressed down, crushing his Adam’s apple. Fury shook him. Joe gulped in ragged breaths in an effort
to remain focused.“Why! Why did you do it?”

Brian spat at him. Joe recoiled, and Brian’s fist exploded into his temple. The room spun at odd angles. Brian easily knocked
Joe off with a knee to his midsection. Joe groaned, but panic launched him off the floor. He tackled Brian as the schemer
scrambled from the room. They fell into the hall with a shuddering thud. Joe wrapped his arm around Brian in a headlock, his
knee lodged between Brian’s shoulder blades, and yanked hard. Brian grunted.

Joe spoke through clenched teeth. “Tell me why! Why would you hurt Mona or Liza?”

“That’s enough, Joe. Let him go.” Chief Sam’s calm voice bathed Joe in reality.

Joe gritted his teeth. Brian’s jagged breathing matched his own. The clock ticked out Joe’s fury in tune with his thundering
heartbeat.

“Let him go,” Sam repeated.

Joe blew out a hot breath and reluctantly released his grip. Brian threw him off like a ratty blanket and clambered to his
feet. Joe stood right behind him.

Instantly Brian transformed into a cool-demeanored man. “Hi, Chief. Glad you were in the neighborhood. This man was trying
to kill me. He’s trouble, just as I thought.”

Chief Sam scanned past Brian to Joe, as if to give Brian’s words merit. Then he shifted his gaze back to Brian. “Why don’t
you come down to police headquarters, Brian? You can file a complaint and tell me all about it.”

Brian hesitated, shot a confused scowl at Joe, then narrowed his eyes at Sam. “I guess you think I’m a fool.”

Sam shrugged. “I guess we’re even then. C’mon, Brian. We have a few questions to ask you.”

“We?” Brian stepped back and met Joe, an iron wall behind him.

“We. As in Leo Simmons and I. We want to know why you wanted lime from the city park department, the kind they use in the
local outhouses. It’s puzzling me, especially since you’ve had indoor plumbing all your life.” His eyes darkened as he continued.
“He told me about the money he stole and your threats. Frankly, Brian, I’m not sure what to charge you with first—blackmail,
destruction of property, or attempted murder.” He crossed his arms, motioning with his head to the deputies behind him. They
moved toward Brian.

A muscle flickered in Brian’s jaw. His face hardened and for a moment Joe thought he’d have to put him in a headlock again.
Then Brian groaned. Just as the deputies reached him, he turned and stuck a wide, quivering finger in Joe’s astonished face.
“The house is cinder, Michaels. Even if you are the best handyman in the world, Mona will never get the place open in three
weeks.” His eyes glinted malice.

Joe glared at him, but a despairing voice inside confirmed every word.

The Footstep of Heaven looked like the tongues of the underworld had licked it. Mona hugged herself and vainly attempted to
calm a violent shudder.

The back of her house made her want to sob. Thankfully, the firemen’s persistence in wetting down the roof saved the old roofing
tiles from igniting like fireworks, but the back siding was charred from the rafters down to nearly the first floor. To augment
the ghastly scene, the garage had become a soot-blackened shell. Even if his apartment were inhabitable, Joe would need a
ladder to get home. The smell of creosote soaked the air, and mud flooded her shoes when she stepped in her previously lush
grass.

From the front, the inferno’s teeth marks weren’t as visible. Only the soggy lawn, pools of water in recesses of uneven porch
boards, and the smell of day-old smoke hinted at something amiss. Still, the place would take a small army and a sizable fortune
to repair.

Mona bit the inside of her lip to keep her tears at bay, but sorrow throbbed through her. It was over. Her dream had burned
to a crisp. The only logical step was to sell. But she’d lose everything—who would want to buy an overcooked money pit? Brian
had won. Whoever bought the Victorian would bulldoze it to the ground and start over. Maybe Speedy Burger was just what Deep
Haven needed, not some old-fashioned bookstore filled with fancy. Bitterness wound around her heart. She’d been such a fool.

Mona turned away from the tragedy and shuffled back up the walk. Chuck was probably in his office. She could get the paperwork
started immediately.

She plowed into Joe. “Where are you off to?” He caught her as she stumbled.

Mona couldn’t look at him. Instead she stared at the poplar sapling, which seemed to have survived the onslaught of the rubber-booted
soldiers and had bloomed tiny white-and-green buds. Mona sucked in a deep breath and her throat burned. She couldn’t voice
her decision. It was lodged in a painful place in her heart. She shook her head and worked free of his grasp.

Joe moved into her path. “Whoa, not so fast, Silver. I see it in your eyes. You’ve given up.” He gripped her arm. “Well, not
on my watch.”

Mona’s jaw tightened as she met Joe’s piercing gaze.“I don’t have a choice. Don’t you see? This place was never meant to be.
It’s a silly dream. I’m sorry I wasted all your time on it.”

Joe winced and glanced skyward. She saw his lips move, but no sound came out. Then he turned his compassionate blue eyes on
her, reaching out with a look that made her tremble. “I’m not going to let you give up, Mona. I’m here for a reason, and right
now, it’s to help you get back on your feet.”

Mona closed her eyes. She couldn’t give in to his kindness, the temptation to hope in him—or in her dream. It cost too much.
She shook her head again, this time fiercely.

The urgency in his voice startled her. “Mona! Why?Why won’t you believe it can work? After all you’ve sacrificed to make it
happen, you’re going to give up that easily? You’re going to let Brian win?”

“It’s not about Brian!” she shot back. “It’s about me!I know I don’t deserve this dream to come true, and the longer I play
out the charade, the more it will hurt when it finally shatters.” Her voice turned wretched. “My heart can’t take it.”

She didn’t expect his powerful embrace. His arms went around her, pulling her to his wide, muscular chest. She resisted slightly,
but when he put a hand on her head and tucked it under his chin, she gave in with a releasing shudder. His hug was firm yet
gentle. She relaxed against him, smelling denim and the musky scent of soap mingled with perspiration. Why did it have to
be so comforting?

“‘If God is for us, who can ever be against us?’” Joe whispered.

Mona stiffened.

“He’s the author of dreams. And He’s not a trickster.He doesn’t give us a dream only to yank it away and laugh.”

Despair coursed through her. “I’m not sure God is for me.”

Joe released her in an abrupt motion and held her away from him. His gaze probed hers. “How can you believe that? You’re His
child! He loves you.”

Mona looked away.

Joe cupped his hand under her chin and turned her face to his. “‘Since God did not spare even His own Son but gave Him up
for us all, won’t God, who gave us Christ, also give us everything else?’ How can you not expect the best from God, who loves
you like a daughter?”

“I don’t deserve the best.” Mona’s voice broke.

Joe’s blue eyes searched hers, and she felt his invasive gaze to her toes. It was intimate and tender, and something inside
her wanted to reach out and reveal everything, to tell him her terrible secret, her deepest fears. But the intensity of his
stare and the nakedness of the truth were so raw she closed her eyes and pushed the urge away. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

His thumb ran along her check. “Nothing, not evenroaches, a flood in your basement, or a fire, can keep God’s love, His best,
from your life. Trust Him for this.Don’t give up.”

Mona closed her eyes and ached to accept Joe’s words. She wanted to believe that God had His best in mind for her. She’d believed
briefly when she’d stood on the steps of her Victorian the first day and seen it all materialize. Didn’t she feel God’s peace,
His love in that moment, like a foretaste of what could be? And God had provided Joe. That had to mean something.

Mona opened her eyes and pulled away from Joe’s grasp. She met his gaze. The look on her face must have given him hope, for
his eyes began to shine. She smiled tentatively and whisked away her tears. “Okay.”

“That’s my Mona.” He put his hand on her cheek.She didn’t know if the warmth she felt was from his touch or was generated
in her own heart by his words “my Mona.”

“Break it up, you two!”

Joe grinned at Liza’s playful words, but he kept his eyes on Mona. She seemed so delicate, so ready to let discouragement
blow her away from Deep Haven and everything she held dear. He longed for her to hang on, to believe in God’s love, to trust
the Almighty to fulfill her dreams.

Liza strolled up and surveyed the couple. Mona scurried out of Joe’s reach. Liza paused, a smile touching her lips; then she
gestured toward the house. “It’s not so bad, Mona. Come and see.” Her voice was buoyant. “The inner walls are fine, and your
bedroom isn’t a lake, despite your moaning.” Liza winked at Joe. “I think our nifty handyman can fix it.”

Joe smiled wide. He was so glad Liza had a half-full view of life, even if she was a bit flaky. She balanced out his half-empty
Mona. “You must think I’m Bob Vila,”he said.

“Yep.” Liza wrapped her arm around Mona. “C’mon, girlfriend. Let’s see what we have to do to salvage our dream.”

Mona fell into step with Liza. Joe had to give the dark-haired beauty credit. She had recovered quickly from Brian’s betrayal.
Or maybe she was merely putting up a false front for her best friend. Nevertheless, he thanked the Lord for Liza as she led
Mona toward the back.

In the light of the morning sun, the damage seemed ghastly, but not devastating. Remarkably, the needed repairs appeared to
be mostly cosmetic. The stairs up to his apartment would need to be rebuilt, but aside from a blackened door, the place looked
repairable. As for Mona’s house, the back siding had been scorched, but if he concentrated on touching up the front of the
house, he could repair the back and his apartment after the Footstep opened.

Joe stopped himself. What was he thinking? He couldn’t stay. Even if Mona did decide to trust him just a little and keep him
on after opening, he had a schedule to keep. His days of free roaming were drawing to a close. Joe scrubbed a hand through
his hair and blew out a breath.

“Too much for you, Superman?” Liza’s voice breezed through his thoughts.

Joe forced a nonchalant grin. “Nope.” He didn’t want to shatter Mona’s fragile hope. He’d stay as long as he could and pray
it was enough to turn Mona’s scorched house back into the Footstep of Heaven.