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So much for not having a meltdown.
She slipped into her yellow Volkswagen and stomped on the accelerator. As if voicing her inner turmoil, the car squealed down the empty street.
“That could have gone better.” Rory pivoted toward Paige. A frown turned her lips down. “What? Who doesn’t need a hug?”
The frown dissipated into a patient look. “Boss, your hugs are the best. It’s too bad Vi shies away from affection—even from women.”
“Why?” His brain rebelled at the idea. Physical contact soothed him more than anything. Truth be told, he’d kind of hoped Vi would be up for a hug. He’d been itching for a reason to touch her hair. Crazy long with the perfect amount of curl. A color no dye or paint could replicate. With effort, he attended to Paige.
“I don’t know. Vi’s a tough nut to crack.” Paige picked up a colander of orange yams, then dumped them into a glass container.
Paige’s pursed lips indicated a closed subject though Rory had every intention of pursuing it later. Vi fascinated him. She’d always been a part of their group. Lately, however, he’d found himself drawn to her in ways he couldn’t fathom. The women he seemed to attract weren’t cutting it. Any conversation with his former flame had revolved around the latest hair salon or getting her nails done. Did Vi even pay attention to girly things? Her gruff exterior suggested a tomboyish streak, but her little hourglass figure begged to differ. Knock it off, Spence.
He bent one leg into a kneeling position and peered into the fridge, mindful of his artificial foot. Opening the bottom drawer, he lifted a bag of apples and pulled out the box of butter. Rising carefully, he shot a thank you to the Lord for the mobility the prosthetic provided. The worst thing in his life had also gifted him with a lifelong dream—he’d build a regional rehabilitation center to provide therapy for other amputees.
“Where was it?” Paige asked, nodding toward his hand.
“Right where I put it last night,” Rory replied through tight lips. Vi’s leaving bothered him more than he wanted to admit.
“I’ll let Vi know.”
Rory grabbed the bag of potatoes and then searched through drawers to find a scrub brush and peeler. Once he found them, he concentrated on the process, often interrupted by mental images of sky-blue eyes, rife with pain.
Vi’s prep list lay on the counter next to a tasty-looking pan of green bean casserole. Since she hadn’t returned, a fact he’d already pushed to the back of his mind several times, he recruited Paige’s help to interpret the list. While the potatoes boiled, he tackled the first item. Vi’s hasty exit had been his doing, so he’d pitch in where he could. Hugs helped too, though Vi obviously didn’t share his opinion.
Long after Rory finished the prep list and taste-tested the mashed potatoes, he caught Paige’s eye again. He’d already pestered her into texting Vi a couple of times—okay, maybe four or five—but she still hadn’t made an appearance. Despite Paige’s assurances Vi simply needed space, a disquiet he couldn’t ignore chilled him from the inside out.
The doorbell rang again as guests arrived. Rory opened the door to a distinguished silver-haired man standing on the veranda next to a younger man with red hair brighter than Rory’s. “Dad.” Rory hugged his father, then addressed his younger brother. “Mark. Glad you could make it.”
“Never pass up the opportunity for a home-cooked Thanksgiving dinner,” Mr. Spence boomed. He entered with Mark on his heels and cast an appreciative eye around the festive living space. Brightly hued cornucopias decorated two eight-foot tables. A decked-out Christmas tree stood in one corner, multicolored lights twinkling a welcome. The distinct smell of yeasty bread vied with other fragrant aromas. Two women greeted one another as if they were old friends. Brenna’s brother and his friend had already become pals with Thunder, Vi’s foster dog.
The homey scene made Rory’s heart ache. It had been years since Mom had passed, but he still missed her during the holidays. Dad told him once that Mom’s hospitality skills had been extraordinary. Rory suspected her giftedness had been the vehicle she used to share Christ’s love with everyone she met. People adored her because she radiated grace and mercy. Like his personal assistant, Paige. No way he could juggle Peeps’ expansion plans and run his contracting business without his PA.
Did any warmth exist beneath Vi’s prickles?
Rory’s lips curved upward as Dad charmed a roomful of strangers. Mark, however, possessed an introverted nature from the cradle. Thorny as a Huisache tree. No worries. Today, he’d stick close to Dad and let the older man’s gregarious nature pave the way.
Zero chance Vi would call him, but Rory checked his phone anyway. Almost time to eat, and she still hadn’t shown up. Unease morphed into a hard ball of worry.
CHAPTER TWO
Daddy’s last gift. Thank you, Lord. Vi gazed at the Victorian house in dire need of a facelift, then took in the land and lake surrounding the house. Twenty acres of prime land in Valiant, Texas. The only place she’d ever been happy. And the first place she ran to when life became difficult. If she were totally honest, helping host a massive dinner distracted her from the real issue. Clear direction on how to move forward was what she needed most. Deep down, she sensed the answers would be here.
Best of all, Rory wouldn’t find her here. Talk about a distraction.
A gusty wind whipped the hair from her bun into an unruly frizz as she walked to the front door of her childhood home. Twisting the key in the lock, she let herself in. Stillness reigned as if the memories had left at the same time as she did—too sad to stay. A slight musty odor of smoke lingered in the air. Vi’s lip twitched. Daddy had smoked his pipe outside, but the telltale scent always found its way into the house.
Her cell phone buzzed. She fished it out of her skirt pocket and groaned. Mom again. Maybe if Vi answered, the calls would stop. A snort pushed through her nose and throat. Sure they would. “Hey, Mom.”
“Where are you?” a strident voice asked.
She shifted from one foot to another, holding back a sigh. “Same place as this morning.” Not on her way to Houston.
An impatient noise. Then, “Vi, you’re wasting your life in that awful little town. Bored out of your mind, no doubt. Rodney and I are sitting here all alone on a family holiday. He misses you, darling. Say you’ll come tomorrow. It will be Black Friday. Great opportunity to update your wardrobe on me.”
Mentally, Vi shuddered. Mom would buy styles Vi would never wear. And it wasn’t Rodney who missed her. “Mom, I enjoy living in Valiant. You’re the one who finds it boring. I can’t come at all this weekend.”
“Christmas then. You’ll be here, won’t you?”
