Page 4

“But then he did.”

“So…what do you think he’ll do?”

Kelsey shook her head. “Your guess is as good as mine. It’s only been a few days. I doubt even he knows yet.”

“Where is he right now?” Patience asked.

“Boiler went out this morning,” she replied. “He’s trying to fix it.”

Patience unzipped her coat; the heat was turned up so high it was stifling in the small office. “At least he knows how to do stuff like that.”

Kelsey gathered the pens on the counter and put them into a mug that read Sundowner Motel—the name of the motel her mother had managed in Southern Utah before they moved to Hard Luck and purchased this one. “I asked him if he’d ever dealt with that type of thing before, and he said no, so…we’ll see.”

“Well, you have my number if you need anything,” Carl said. “You can call me—day or night.”

“Thank you,” Kelsey responded. “I appreciate it.”

Patience told Kelsey she’d see her at the meeting on Monday and walked out, relieved that the visit hadn’t taken very long. Glenda had a good attitude about letting her come a few minutes late—guilt for destroying their lifelong friendship made her more accommodating than most stepmothers—but Jack avoided her whenever he could. And that was fine. She didn’t want to miss her pickup time by such a wide margin that he’d be the one who answered the door. It was hard enough to see Glenda.

A truck with a cab-over camper had pulled in front of their car. She waved to the driver as he opened his door to get out, then started to go around the vehicle, but since her father hadn’t followed her as she’d expected, she glanced back to see why and ran into a something so solid it jolted her all the way to her teeth—Kanon Kincaid. She would’ve fallen had he not caught her.

“Whoa! Watch where you’re going,” he growled, squeezing her shoulders for emphasis before letting her go.

She looked up into his stony expression, feeling that odd sort of wariness she’d always felt when she encountered him—as if she’d just come upon a German shepherd who was crouched low and growling. “I’m sorry, I—I was just looking back to see what was taking my father so long.”

The driver of the camper nodded to them both and went into the office, intent on his own business. Patience hoped Kanon would simply move along, too. No one had been hurt; it wasn’t that big a deal. But he had one more parting comment for her. “Spacing out is a good way to get run over. In case you didn’t notice, this is a parking lot.” He gestured at the blacktop as he sidestepped her, but she wasn’t willing to let him have the last word. She’d put up with enough in her life; she wasn’t going to put up with any more.

“Most people—polite people—would’ve said ‘no problem’ and let it go,” she snapped at his back.

She thought that would be it, but he swung around and looked her up and down, which made her self-conscious. When she’d gotten ready for work this morning, she’d merely tossed her hair into a messy bun and pulled on some yoga pants, a Rolling Stones T-shirt and a puffy coat. She worked in the back office of a church—not out in public—so hadn’t felt the need to look her best, and she could tell he wasn’t impressed. “Don’t tell me you’re here to rent a room—although if I were living with your father, I’d be looking for somewhere else to go, too.”

“How do you know I’m living with my father?”

“A lucky guess,” he said dryly.

His eyes reminded her of the blue flare of a welder’s torch, and they seemed just as dangerous to look at. There’d always been so much anger inside him. He was three years older than she was, so she didn’t know him well, but she’d certainly encountered him at high school parties back in the day and around town. She’d seen him knock a guy out once, too. Someone had gotten drunk enough to accuse him of hustling pool—and had quickly learned what a mistake it was to pick a fight with him.

Another time, she’d found him sleeping in the shadow of the church. It’d been freezing outside, and he’d only had a threadbare jacket, but he’d told her to mind her own business when she tried to bring him a blanket. “You don’t even know my father,” she said. “I don’t remember you ever attending church.”

“Oh, I know him. My own sperm donor had me meet with him a time or two—so he could put the fear of God in me.”

She lifted her chin, forcing herself to meet his disconcerting gaze. “And? Did he?”

“You’d have to believe in God for that,” he said, and just as it seemed he was about to turn back to the office, Carl came out.

“Kanon! It’s good to see you!”

Patience was surprised by the convincing lilt in her father’s voice. But Kanon wasn’t fooled. He studied Carl skeptically for a moment. Then he said, with a chuckle, “I bet you are,” and went inside.

“Do you think he fixed the boiler?” Patience murmured to her father as they both stared after him.

Carl shook his head. “I doubt it. I have a feeling he’s going to break more things around here than he fixes.”

Patience couldn’t have agreed more. “Poor Kelsey. As if it isn’t bad enough that she lost her mother to such a freak accident.”

* * *

Kanon had no patience for the preacher or his daughter. He’d dealt with enough guilt and shame to last him a lifetime, wasn’t about to tolerate any more. Shoving them and their self-righteous bullshit out of his mind, he leaned on the counter, facing his stepsister.