Family Ties: Family Ties / Promise Of Grace

Squealing, the girls wriggled free and hurried over to the new bounty.

Overwhelmed, Flynn stared at her. “Cindy, you shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble. This is too much.”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “I do a lot of volunteer work and I bring home kids all the time so I had a lot of stuff.”

“In threesomes?”

Cindy grinned. “Well, not exactly. But it wasn’t that difficult to do a little rearranging.”

He stared at the freshly painted pink walls, a captivating also newly painted mural, ruffled lace curtains and a newly upholstered window seat that matched the mural. “A little rearranging?”

“Okay. Guilty as charged. But I enjoyed doing it. And, really, cross my heart, I had the other kid paraphernalia.”

Despite her protests, gratitude flooded him. Julia had lavished attention on her children, but they’d sorely missed a woman’s touch since then.

“Look, Daddy!” Alice shouted, bringing him a bright pink-and-silver unicorn. The soft stuffed toy was toddler safe with no plastic eyes or nose for little ones to swallow.

He knelt down beside her. “That’s nice, baby.”

Happy with her treasure, Alice scooted away. Just as suddenly, Flynn felt exhausted. The past year had been an endless succession of trials and emotions. And now, without warning, Cindy had opened her life and home to them. It was as overwhelming as it was gratifying.

To his surprise, when he rose, he saw unexpected understanding in Cindy’s expression. But she didn’t comment on it. Instead, she smiled before turning to the triplets. “Okay, girls, we have tofu tacos for dinner. Who wants to eat?”

But the triplets were practically headfirst into the toy box.

“Probably should have told them about the tacos first,” Cindy mused. “No matter.” She glanced at Flynn. “Unless you’re hungry?”

“I’d kill for some coffee.”

She grinned. “You won’t have to get that drastic. I could use some myself. Why don’t we put up the safety gate at the top of the stairs and find our caffeine fix?”

“Won’t get any argument from me,” Flynn replied. But he made sure the safety gate was secure before he joined her in the farm-style kitchen.

He glanced around appreciatively. She had incorporated new appliances that resembled ones of yesteryear next to original freestanding cabinetry. She’d kept the integrity of the original structure, yet updated it enough to make it workable. He wondered what all the fronds of hanging dried herbs were for. Mixed among the bluish and sage green were also dried bouquets of roses and heather. It reminded him of a potently fragrant garden that had been preserved from past summers. “This is some kitchen.”

“Thanks. It’s one of my favorite rooms. I’m reworking them one at a time.”

“You’ve got a pretty big house, Cindy. Planning on filling it up soon?”

For a moment she froze, her hands filled with a pitcher and carton of cream. Then she laughed, a nervous sound in the otherwise relaxed kitchen. “What makes you ask?”

“Just a comment on your home. I didn’t mean to pry. Just thought maybe you were dating someone special.”

Her fingers clenched the handle of the pitcher before she relaxed enough to pour the cream. “You have a vivid imagination.”

“I thought maybe that was why you moved here.”

Suddenly breathless, she made a production of looking for the sugar. “Excuse me?”

“I couldn’t see any other reason for a young woman to move to the boonies. I thought it must be love.”

“Love?” she asked, her voice sounding strangulated.

“I am prying. Sorry.”

She fussed with the coffee cups, then added a plate of cookies to the tray before finally bringing it to the table. “No need to apologize.”

“Still, it’s a great house.”

Cindy smiled. “Anything newer or smaller cost a fortune. Not many people want to fix up these old painted ladies. This one needed a lot of gutting and repair. Not to mention horrendous utility bills that are eating into my trust fund.”

“You wouldn’t trade it for a new one,” he mused accurately, surprised to realize how much she seemed to fit with the charming old house.

“Nope. It’s drafty, always in need of fixing—and I love it.”

He accepted the coffee she offered, studying the rose pattern of the fine bone china cup and saucer. “No generic mugs for you.”

Her gaze followed his. “It’s one of my weaknesses—collecting china. But I only have one complete set. I collect orphaned cups and saucers—I must have twenty of them, each a different pattern.”

Flynn glanced at the other collectibles that lined her glass-fronted cabinets. “You like old things—antiques, I mean.”

“They have history. I like to imagine the people who once owned them.” She stared upward at the tall ceiling of the kitchen, then the original arched wooden-paned windows that brought the sunshine inside. “I couldn’t imagine living in a house that’s squeaky new, that hasn’t had time to develop character.”

“Like the one you convinced me to build,” he commented wryly.

She flushed suddenly, not a gentle blush, but a violent wave of color, a shortcoming that seemed to be a side effect of being a redhead. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean—”

But he dismissed her protest. “I know what you meant. And you’re right. This house suits you. I’m just not sure yet what suits me.” He’d known once, but everything about his life was uncertain now. Especially this move, the one that had him sitting next to her.

Compassion filled Cindy’s eyes. “You’ll know again, Flynn. It may not seem like it now, but you’ll find your way.”

“You sound remarkably certain.”

“It’s my faith,” she explained gently. “It makes me sure there’s a path for me. I might stumble now and then, but at the end of the day it’s always there.”

He nodded out of politeness, his own abandoned faith scarcely a bitter recollection.

Still, in comfortable silence they sipped the strong coffee and nibbled on buttery shortbread cookies.

Flynn cocked his ear, listening for the sounds of his daughters.

“I have a baby monitor,” Cindy remembered suddenly. “I’ll hook it up after dinner. In fact, it has enough units for all the bedrooms upstairs and one here in the kitchen.”

Quizzical, Flynn studied her face. “Why do you have a baby monitor?”

“As I said, I bring home kids now and then from my volunteer work. With a big old house like this, the monitor saves a lot of steps. One of the first little ones I brought home with me kept escaping from his crib. That’s when I discovered baby monitors. Of course, with that little curtain climber, I could have used an alarm system.”

An unexpected smile crossed Flynn’s face. “That bad?”