Love Inspired May 2015 #1 (48 page)

Outside, Shaw started toward the panel truck that held the cabinetry. A small car pulled along the drive and parked near the carriage house. He couldn't believe his eyes when he saw Millie Tedrow get out and go inside.

Remembering her rudeness to Lainie last Sunday, Shaw's protective instincts roared to life. He would not let the woman bully Lainie again. Just to be on the safe side, he'd make his presence known. Let the older woman know the new librarian had backup.

The carriage house door was open and he could hear voices from inside. The women were speaking quietly. No signs of an argument. Maybe he'd hang back a few moments to make sure. He stopped a few feet from the door, but the voices were clearly discernible, and he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Millie was apologizing.

“When I learned you were a widow raising your children alone, it made me look at things differently. I was widowed young, too, and had to raise my boys without a father. I know the struggles you face.” She grimaced. “And, Gwen gave her mother and me a good scolding. I'm ashamed of my behavior, Lainie. You reached out in love, and I smacked your hand away because my ego was bruised. Are you familiar with the passage in the Bible that talks about removing the log in your own eye before attempting to remove the speck in another's?”

Shaw heard Lainie reply softly that she was. It occurred to him that he was eavesdropping, but if he moved, he risked disturbing the women, and this was a crucial conversation. He'd ask forgiveness later. Millie spoke again.

“I think we all have logs in our eyes— things we see so clearly in others that we're oblivious to in ourselves. We think we've dealt with our pains and losses. We tell ourselves we've forgiven others and moved on. When my husband died, I was so angry. I threw myself into my job at the library to keep from feeling. Later, when my boys were grown, my work at the library was all I had. It gave me a respected position in town. I enjoyed the attention and the prestige. I didn't realize how my ego had gotten tied up in that title until I learned about you being the new librarian. I was upset. I felt you'd stolen something from me. But you didn't. I hope you can forgive me. And if the offer is still open, I'd be proud to work with you.”

“Oh, Millie, of course I forgive you.”

Shaw quietly moved back to his truck, marveling at Lainie's way with people. She could win anyone over, given the opportunity, and she did it with love and compassion. She had a warm heart and the ability to forgive.

Except where he was concerned.

Resting his forearms along the side of his truck bed, he faced the truth. He couldn't stay away from Lainie. His heart was reaching for her. His every thought, every moment near her, increased the invisible thread binding him to her. He needed to rein in his emotions. His only goal was to make things easy for Lainie until the library was done.

“Shaw.”

He looked up as Lainie hurried toward him across the lawn. The sun reflected off her hair, the strands swaying around her shoulders. “Hey.”

“You won't believe what just happened. Millie has agreed to come to work with me. With the two of us, we should be able to finish everything by the deadline.”

“That's great. It's about time something started going right.”

She nodded. “She'll be back this afternoon to get started.”

Shaw told himself to maintain some control, but her smile was too much to resist. He touched the side of her cheek, awed at the softness. “I'm glad, Lainie. I told you people would come around, didn't I?”

“You did.” Her smile faded and she took a step back. “I'd better get to work. I, uh, just wanted to let you know the good news.”

Shaw watched her walk away, more determined than ever to strengthen the walls around his emotions. For his own protection. Whenever she was near, he lost all common sense and reason. Lainie was off-limits.

He had his future planned out for the next five years. Starting with finishing the library on time. Then he had to get his business on solid ground. He had people depending on him—Russ, Jeb and the eight other guys who worked for him. There was no room in his life for the domestic scene.

So why couldn't he stop thinking about a family of his own? He'd always been comfortable being alone. Getting too attached to people usually ended in pain. Sooner or later, they would walk away. Like his mother. Like his former fiancée, Vicki. The only people he'd allowed to get close were Russ and Laura Durrant. Even with them, he'd kept a part of himself private.

Logically, he knew his mom didn't walk out because of him. His father had been open about their marital struggles, but Vicki's rejection was another matter. That was all him. She'd walked away because he'd been unable to give her what she wanted. His whole heart. He'd come to the conclusion that he wasn't cut out for a long-term relationship. Maybe Vicki was right and he didn't know how to give his heart to anyone.

Instead, he'd give his heart to his work. That was something he understood.

* * *

The carriage house was quiet. Millie was attending her Thursday morning Bible study. She'd wanted to stay and work, but Lainie had encouraged her to attend. They'd been working on the collection for a couple of days and had made significant progress, renewing Lainie's hopes of finishing on time. Millie was a godsend. They had drawn closer through their love of books and their experiences as widows raising young children. Together, they had chosen furniture for the library and started placing orders for the body of books that would fill the shelves. Some of the orders wouldn't arrive in time for the opening, but the majority would.

The carriage house walls suddenly pressed in on her. She'd been working hard all morning. She needed a break and some fresh air. The weather this week was pleasant for a Mississippi June. A cool front had come through bringing a brief respite from the rising humidity.

Curious about the progress being made in the library, Lainie strolled across the grass toward the back door where Shaw's truck was parked. In a few days, the lovely lawn would be graded and an asphalt parking lot installed. She understood the need, but the thought of losing a beautiful lawn made her sad.

As she neared the truck, a man emerged, moving quickly. She remembered his name was Thad Comier, a friendly, pleasant man with a soft Cajun accent she'd met a few days ago. But the look on Thad's face now was one of anger. Shaw followed him. She stopped, surprised by the fierce look on his face.

“I'm not interested in your comfort, Thad.” They stopped beside Shaw's truck. He reached into the back of the bed, pulled out a pair of clear safety glasses and handed them to Thad. “You will wear these or you'll not work for me. Is that clear?”

Thad muttered a response Lainie couldn't make out.

“Then go buy yourself some of the high-end kind that you
can
see through. I need all hands on this job, and we don't have time to take you to hospital because you're injured.
To konprann?”

Thad stared at Shaw a moment before responding. “Yeah. I understand.” Grabbing the glasses, he stomped back inside.

Shaw looked up and saw her, his expression softening. “How's it going?” He approached her with a slow, easy gait.

Lainie glanced past him in the direction of the library. “What was that all about?”

Shaw shrugged. “Thad doesn't like the way things look through the safety glasses. He claims he can't see to do his job.”

“Is that true?”

“Maybe. But none of the other guys have trouble. He doesn't understand the need for many of the safety precautions I take. Some guys like to think they're daredevils and don't need to follow rules. If Thad doesn't shape up, I'll have to let him go. I can't have his reckless attitude infecting the others.”

Anger erupted in her chest. “So you're a big safety advocate now?” She didn't even try to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “Where was that concern five years ago? Or did you develop this big commitment as a way to deal with your guilt?” Grief tightened her throat making it impossible to say any more. She spun around and stormed back to the carriage house. She wanted to cry, but there were no tears, only anger. And a need to understand. Maybe if Shaw had been as aware then as he appeared to be now, her life would be different today.

It was his fault she was alone, his fault that her girls would never know their father.

Inside the carriage house, she sank into a chair, cradling her head in her hands. She felt a thousand years old. She was tired of being sad, of being angry. Tired of asking why and trying to make sense of the past.

Shaw, the big safety advocate. Everyone was so impressed. It didn't matter how cautious he was now. He hadn't been when it really mattered. No amount of precaution, or adherence to the rules, could wash away the one time he'd failed.

She'd been distracted by his charm, his helpful attitude. She'd let herself forget who he was and what he'd let happen.

She wouldn't make that mistake again.

* * *

Shaw stopped at the carriage house door, his hand lingering on the handle. He didn't want to have this confrontation, but he couldn't go on like this. It was time they dealt with the past.

He stepped inside, searching out Lainie. She stood near the worktable, back stiff, arms crossed defensively across her chest. She didn't turn around when he approached. He took a deep breath. “Maybe it's time we got this out in the open. I'm tired of dancing around the elephant in the room.”

She whirled and faced him. “You were supposed to watch out for him, make sure he was safe. He should have been secured to that roof.” Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.

He resisted the urge to pull her close and comfort her. “He was. That was a twelve-twelve pitch roof. We all had to use toe boards and harnesses. I made sure he had his on correctly.”

“You should have checked again.”

“You're right. I should have. I've been over it a thousand times in my head. Wondering what else I could have done. What I missed. Lainie, if I could go back and change it, I would. You have to believe that.” Shaw ran a hand through his hair. “I'd checked his harness several times that morning, but each time, he'd loosened it again. He said he didn't like the way the harness felt. I warned him again to keep it pulled tight, then I went back to work on my section. The next thing I knew—” Lainie's weeping was tearing him apart, but he continued. “He had the ability to become a decent carpenter, but he would lose focus, and when he didn't understand something, he'd get angry. That's why Mr. Beaumont was going to let him go at the end of the week.”

Inwardly, Shaw kicked himself for letting that fact slip out. It would only hurt Lainie more.

“You were going to fire him?”

The shock in her brown eyes told him she wouldn't be satisfied until she knew it all. “He was reckless and he had a bad attitude. It was starting to affect the other men. I couldn't keep him on.”

She placed a hand over her mouth, her dark eyes filled with sorrow. She moved away, raking her hands along her scalp before hugging her arms across her middle. “I never got to tell him our good news. He never knew we were going to have Chrissy. I was going to tell him that night.”

Shaw's gut kicked. Would this pain and guilt never end? He turned away, unable to bear the sight of her in pain. Her sadness wrenched his heart. He wanted to hold her and ease her sorrow, but he knew she wouldn't welcome it. There was nothing more he could say. “I can never make up to you for what happened. And I don't expect you to forgive me. But for what it's worth, that day changed my life forever, too.” He opened the door and walked out.

His heart hurt for Lainie, but finally talking to her about that day had cleared away the cobwebs from his mind. He
had
done all he could to protect Hollings. He'd checked the man's harness numerous times. He'd warned him he could lose his job. He'd warned him of the dangers, but Hollings had refused to listen.

Those facts had been buried beneath Shaw's pain over the death of a man under his care. But talking to Lainie, saying the words aloud, had clarified the events. Shaw stopped near the back of his truck, resting his hands on his hips. A sense of freedom, of release, had taken root inside. He wasn't at fault. He didn't need to blame himself or feel guilty anymore. He'd asked the Lord to forgive him, and he was confident He had. But Shaw had been unable to forgive himself. Until now. Maybe now he could begin to.

A gentle hand touched his shoulder. “Everything okay, fella?”

Shaw gave Russ a smile over his shoulder. “Yeah. Actually, I think they finally are.”

Russ nodded at the carriage house. “Something happen in there?”

“We cleared the air. I told her what happened that day, and it made me realize what you've always tried to tell me. It wasn't my fault. I did everything I could. I couldn't force Hollings to obey the rules.”

“He made his own choice that day. She'll come to see that herself eventually.”

“I don't know. But I've let it go. I'm not going to think about it anymore.”

“What about her? How are you going to stop thinking about her?”

That was a very good question, and Shaw prayed he had the inner strength to accomplish it. The best way was to stay at work. It's where he needed to focus anyway. Everyone lost if the library wasn't finished on time. That's what mattered. Not his feelings, or his heart, or his dreams.

He may no longer blame himself for the accident, but that didn't absolve him of his duty to Lainie. He wasn't at fault, but she was still his responsibility.

Chapter Eight

L
ainie shoved her half-eaten sandwich into the brown bag, crumpled it and tossed it into the trash. Her lunch had tasted like dry paper. She loved egg salad, but she was too upset to eat. The confrontation with Shaw this morning had left her agitated and irritable. She'd waited years to confront him, to demand answers, to find some reason for the accident. But now that the moment had arrived, it didn't feel the way she had thought it would. She'd expected a sense of closure. Even validation that he was at fault.

Instead, she'd been forced to look at things from a different perspective. Was it possible that Craig was more at fault than Shaw? No. Impossible. That would change everything she'd thought about her husband and everything she'd believed for the past five years.

Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts.

She buried her fingers in her hair. It was time to face the truth. Her husband had never liked taking orders or following advice. He'd fallen because he wanted to do things his way, not the right or safe way. Shaw had done all he could.

Learning that her husband was going to be let go wasn't a huge surprise, either. He'd become increasingly unhappy, directing most of his anger at Shaw. It wasn't the first time he'd lost a job because of his attitude. She simply hadn't wanted to believe he was that kind of man.

“Lainie, are you all right?”

She'd been so deep in thought she hadn't heard the car pull up or Millie enter the carriage house. “Fine.” She tried to smile but felt sure her attempt was a failure. “I have some personal things to work out, that's all.”

Millie laid her purse on the worktable, peering at her more closely. “Something happened while I was gone. What was it?”

In the short time Lainie had worked with the former librarian, she'd learned it was impossible to hide anything from her. “Shaw and I had a talk about the past.”

“You mean the accident?”

Lainie jerked her head up. “You know about that?”

“I know enough. I'm good friends with Viola Franklin, Russ's wife. She gave me the CliffsNotes version.” She pulled up a folding chair and sat. “Do you feel better now that you've both spoke your piece?”

“No. Truth is I'm not sure how I feel.”

“I'm not surprised. It's comforting to have someone to blame. It helps us make sense of things. My husband died of an aggressive form of cancer. For years, I blamed the doctors for not doing more, for not catching the disease sooner. Then one day, I read a verse in the Bible. ‘In the world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.' I had to finally accept that illness is a fact of life. So are accidents.”

“Shaw said that day changed his life.” Lainie frowned, trying to understand. “How? He went on with his carefree bachelor life. He started his own business. I was left to raise my daughters alone.”

Millie patted Lainie's arm. “When we're hurting, all we can see is our side. We forget that there's always two sides to everything. From what Viola told me, Shaw was a broken man back then. He'd lost his faith in himself and his God. One thing I've learned in my sixty-plus years on this old earth is that everything we do affects other people. Our choices and our decisions are like ripples on the pond. They go out and change things whether we realize it or not.”

Millie's wisdom and Shaw's comments churned in the back of Lainie's mind the rest of the day. She'd never considered how the accident had affected Shaw. She hadn't wanted to. But now she could think of nothing else. A man had died on his watch. He would have felt guilty. Horribly so. A broken man. Was that the pain she'd seen behind his eyes sometimes?

She'd started to remember things about her husband. Things she'd forgotten. He was impatient, and he liked to break the rules and challenge authority when he didn't see a reason for something. He carried a grudge far too long.

“Mommy, what was Daddy's superpower?”

Natalie's question pulled her thoughts back to bedtime and getting her girls settled for the night. Lainie sat on the edge of the bed, brushing hair off her daughter's forehead. “What do you mean?”

Chrissy's blue eyes blinked. “You said he was a superhero, and they have cool powers. What was his?”

Powers? Did her children believe that? She'd always tried to speak about their father in positive, glowing terms. They would have no memory of him, so she wanted them to think of him as a father they could be proud of as they grew up. But maybe, in her zeal, she'd given them an unrealistic picture. Craig was a good dad and husband, and he had loved them, but he had his faults like everyone else.

She looked into Chrissy's questioning eyes. Pulling the covers up, she stroked each soft cheek in turn. “He didn't have powers, sweetie. But he loved us, and that's a special kind of power. Your father loved us very much. That's all you need to remember.”

As she prepared for bed, she realized that in accepting Craig's part in the accident, her own burden had eased. Facing the truth, letting go of the blame, had brought an unexpected feeling of freedom and release. Blame was a heavy burden. There'd been no reason to blame Shaw. Her anger should have been directed at Craig for not being careful, for not thinking about what could happen if he refused to take safety precautions.

A broken man. She'd wondered why the Lord had brought Shaw back into her life. Maybe it was so she could finally face the truth and be freed from the past.

Tugging up the covers, she closed her eyes and set the day's events aside. But one image refused to fade—the look of pain and guilt in Shaw's eyes when she had told him Craig had never learned about her pregnancy. He'd looked wounded to his soul, as if she'd sliced his heart in two.

Shaw was a man who took his responsibilities to heart. But he wasn't responsible for this, and it was time she told him so, and let him know she no longer blamed him.

As she drifted off to sleep, another thought floated in her mind. In accepting that Craig had been at fault for the fall, she'd closed the door on her past, but opened a door to the future—one she'd been afraid to face.

She was falling in love with Shaw McKinney. What kind of woman did that make her? Guilty or not, Shaw was at the heart of her loss. Shouldn't she be more respectful of her husband's memory? When was it okay to let go and move on?

That question floated through her dreams all night.

* * *

The clank and grind of the outdated air-conditioning system kicked on, sending welcome cool air into the old kitchen. The pleasant temperatures of the past few days had been replaced by highs in the upper nineties. Even now in the late evening, the humidity still thickened the air.

The distinctive rumble of Shaw's truck drew Lainie's glance to the wall clock. Nine-fifteen. He'd worked late again. If this library ever opened, they'd both have to take a long vacation to recuperate. Not together, of course. Laying aside the dish towel, she went to the back door. She needed to talk to him as soon as possible to let him know she no longer blamed him. She'd gone over her speech a dozen times, but it always came out sounding insincere, or worse yet, condescending. She'd finally decided to take the first opportunity that came her way and asked the Lord to provide the words.

She heard the gate snap shut, and his tall frame walked toward the house. She stepped quietly onto the porch, never taking her eyes from him. His broad shoulders were sloped downward, and his stride lacked its usual confident lift. A wave of sympathy touched her. He was working hard to make the deadline. Just as she was. It meant so much to both of them. Shaw was a man of determination and commitment. He never backed down once he made up his mind. If he ever gave his heart to someone, it would be with the same devotion.

He glanced up, one corner of his mouth lifting when he saw her.

“Tough day?”

He stopped on the step below her, putting their faces on the same level and sending her heart bouncing. She was beginning to care a great deal for this man. It was foolish, but her heart refused to pull away. She'd been caught in his web of attraction like all the others before. Where was her pride?

“Tough, but productive. If we keep this up, we'll be finished ahead of time. I never thought I'd be able to say that.” He stepped up beside her, now looking down at her with midnight-blue eyes.

Even in the faint glow of the porch light, she could see the tenderness in his gaze. She also saw something else. “Your arm. What happened?” She took his wrist in her hand, staring at the ugly five-inch scratch along his forearm. The blood had dried to a dark brown. Her stomach tightened at the thought of his being injured.

He shrugged. “Hard telling. Probably caught it on a nail or a piece of lumber. It's nothing. It happens all the time.”

Lainie glared and tugged him into her kitchen. “It needs to be taken care of before it gets infected.” She turned on the hot water, then pulled his forearm forward bringing his chest against her back. The contact momentarily rattled her. His nearness weakened her knees and wrapped her in his unique scent—sawdust and spice. It was like being held in his arms again, safe and sheltered.

She swallowed and heard Shaw inhale slowly.

“It's really not a big deal, Lainie. I'm fine.”

He was so close his breath tickled her neck. “Stop being such a man.”

“I am a man.”

Oh, she was very aware of that. Too aware. Mentally, she bulldozed her thoughts back into line. Placing her hand under the faucet, she tested the water's temperature, then pulled a clean cloth from the drawer and dampened it. When she touched it to his arm, he sucked in a sharp breath. She looked over her shoulder at him. “I'm sorry.” The dark blue eyes softened and he leaned his head closer.

“I'll live. Thanks to you.”

Lainie forced her attention back to the injury, trying not to get distracted by his firm, tanned skin and corded muscles. The scratch was deep. She dabbed at the skin, trying to be gentle, but the blood had tangled in the dark hairs on his arm. She tugged his arm under the faucet to loosen the blood. The motion pressed them both against the counter. It would be so easy to turn and slip into his warm embrace.

No. She needed to concentrate on his wound. The scratch was clean, but still red and ugly. How could he not have known he'd hurt himself? “You should be more careful.”

She dried his arm, taking more time than necessary before releasing him. He stepped back, creating space between them. She opened a drawer and removed a tube of antibacterial ointment. She handed it to him. It was not a good idea to keep holding his arm. Not with her emotions swirling like a category two hurricane.

Shaw held her gaze a moment before holding up the tube. “You always have first-aid equipment around the kitchen?”

“I have two little girls. One of them always has a cut or a scrape of some kind.”

Shaw applied the cream then took her hand in his and laid the tube in her palm. He didn't let go. “Thank you for caring about me.”

The intensity of his dark gaze rattled her already-shaky emotions. She glanced away, focusing instead on opening a large bandage and placing it over the cut. “Shaw, please be careful. I don't want you to get hurt.”

“I'll be extra careful.” He touched a finger to her forehead, trailing it down her temple and cupping the side of her face in his palm. “I don't want to see a frown on your lovely face.” He tilted her face upward and kissed her cheek lightly.

Lainie fought to keep her senses about her. Now was the time. She had to say it before she lost her nerve. The longer she waited, the harder it would be. “Do you have a minute? I'd like to talk to you about something.”

“Of course. What's on your mind?”

He'd leaned against the counter, thumbs latched into his belt. “It's about our discussion the other day, about the accident.” She dared a look and saw his eyes had turn troubled. She plunged ahead before he could speak. “I've done a lot of soul-searching since then. Remembering things that I guess I buried or chose to forget. My husband didn't like following orders or rules, and sometimes that got him into trouble. I know you did all you could to keep him safe. I don't blame you for what happened.”

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because it's time for me to let go of the past. I've spent too much time there. I want to look forward to getting the library done and starting a new life and a new future.”

“Is that the only reason?”

What would he say if she told him she was starting to care for him? “And because we're friends now, and I don't want you to carry a burden you don't deserve.” She waited for him to say something. But he remained silent, staring at her with an odd expression she couldn't interpret. The warmth in his eyes faded and became distant. He stepped away, rolling down his shirtsleeve before looking at her again.

“Thank you. And for what it's worth, I've finally been able to forgive myself, too.”

He walked out without another word, leaving her puzzled and feeling slightly foolish. She'd expected him to be pleased, even relieved. She'd thought it would bring them closer, but she'd seen the walls go up behind his eyes. He was shutting her out. If he had forgiven himself, did that mean he no longer felt responsible for her? Was he letting her know he was moving on or reminding her he was a bachelor and not to get any ideas?

Had he somehow guessed her feelings? Or had he simply seen her affection in her eyes. How stupid could she get?

* * *

Shaw placed the hinge in the face frame of the cabinet, making sure it matched up with the positioning marks he'd made, then screwed it in with his cordless drill. He'd managed to coordinate the painters and floor refinishers so that one crew would work on the second floor of the library while the other worked on the main floor. Once their work was done, they would switch out and complete the job. It had saved him nearly three days. Breathing space before the deadline.