My Hope Next Door Read online

  Pain seared Katie like a branding iron. Mary hadn’t changed at all. Bluish-white hair was still teased into a puff around her face. Mounds of dangling jewelry hung from her neck, and as always, she wore a silky pantsuit—the kind that could rival even those worn by the richest socialites. Katie inhaled, the memory of Chanel No. 5 so powerful she could almost smell it from across the room.

  Pulse racing, she fell into her seat when the scripture reading ended. Every street in Fairfield held a measure of shame, but nothing compared to what she’d done that weekend she’d fled from town.

  Pastor Powell was speaking now, but she couldn’t hear anything but the cries of her own guilt. Mary had relied on Katie, trusted her, even defended her when people said the benevolent widow was out of her mind for hiring such a troublemaker.

  Katie had loved her for it, too, though not enough to do the right thing. And that one transgression had been the unraveling of her life.

  She stood, no longer caring about remaining invisible. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She’d spent four years locking that night away. Four years trying to forget.

  She was supposed to get a second chance. A clean slate. A new life. “Beauty from ashes” is what Reverend Snow had said. And she’d tried. She’d buried those ashes deep in her mind, ready to cast away everything she had been before she found peace. But starting over was a lie. Her past was standing right in the middle of her future.

  Katie rushed to the exit.

  It didn’t matter that Asher turned around just as she bolted. It didn’t matter that his eyes widened, or that he smiled as if her being there brought him some sense of relief.

  None of it mattered. Because deep down, she knew her mistakes were much too big to ever be forgiven.

  CHAPTER 8

  From her seat on top of the picnic table, Katie spooned another mound of flavored ice into her mouth. The sno-cones at Fairfield Park had been the go-to solution in many of her crises, and today was no different.

  She’d fled from church thirty minutes ago, and only now had her hands stopped trembling. She’d never been one to cry. In her family tears meant weakness and were regarded as manipulation. Instead, when she got too emotional, her stomach would curl in on itself and her body would shake like a petrified puppy. For some reason, sugar was the quickest remedy.

  The park was mostly vacant. Just a few children laughed nearby as they navigated the massive jungle gym. By two o’clock, the place would be swarming with after-church crowds, barbecue groups, and clusters of families who didn’t spend their life trapped by dysfunction.

  In the distance, Katie could see the cars emptying Fellowship’s parking lot. She shoved in another bite of cherry goodness and tried to forget that she’d left right in the middle of Pastor Powell’s sermon. Word had probably already spread through half the town, and given her reputation, people would think she’d intended to make a scene. They’d never guess that Katie Stone had gone to church because she actually wanted to be there.

  An SUV pulled into the parking lot near her, and darn if the shaking didn’t start back up. Asher emerged a second later, tall and blond and much too determined. She’d been dying to talk to him for days, and now she couldn’t even think of a single word.

  He looked different all dressed up. His hair was combed instead of spiked in a wet tangle of sweat. His jeans had been replaced by black slacks and a belt. She knew it was at least eighty degrees already, yet he wore a long-sleeved shirt and a red-striped tie. She couldn’t decide which style suited him best, or if he was just one of those men who looked good in anything.

  He passed by the green sno-cone hut and walked right up to her isolated table. “I see I’m not the only one addicted to sugar.”

  She raised her cup an inch, hoping she didn’t look as completely uncomfortable as she felt. “It’s one of the few things I missed in this town. That and the train parking on the tracks during rush hour.”

  His chuckle seemed forced, and she couldn’t blame him. Nothing about the two of them being friendly made sense. He was the golden boy who did no wrong. She was the wild child who left havoc in her wake. He’d grown up in church. She grew up thinking Sundays were meant for beer drinking and football.

  The sun blazed overhead, yet Asher hadn’t moved.

  “Aren’t you going to get one?” She pointed to the sno-cone hut and raised an eyebrow. The line was starting to grow.

  He shifted his weight and tucked both hands into his pockets. “The truth? I saw you sitting here and wanted to say hi. You left church before I could talk to you.”

  Katie hung her head, embarrassed. “Yeah, about that. Please tell your dad I’m sorry if I distracted him. I wasn’t feeling well.”

  “It’s fine. He can’t even see past the first few rows when the lights are on him.” Asher motioned to the space next to her, a silent request for permission.

  She sighed and patted the tabletop—partially glad and equally terrified that he hadn’t just scolded her and walked away.

  He sat and leaned his elbows on his knees. She took another bite, but even the ice dissolving in her mouth couldn’t take away her resurged nervousness.

  “I was surprised to see you there.” He stared aimlessly at the church across the street.

  “I bet.”

  “I was also glad.”

  They turned to face each other at the same time. She was sure she’d heard him wrong, but his pressed lips and weighty stare told her she hadn’t. “Why?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I was antsy and irritable, and then I saw you.” His laugh was tight, but genuine this time. “Pale as a ghost and completely mortified. And I thought, finally, there’s someone in this building who’s being real.”

  Katie’s next bite missed her mouth, and she quickly put her cup under her chin to catch the runoff. Asher handed her a napkin.

  “Thanks.” After she’d wiped off the red goo, she set down the nearly empty Styrofoam cup.

  He eyed her jerky movements. “I take it you weren’t expecting that response.”

  “Um . . . no. You’re the heir to the pulpit. You’re supposed to sing ‘Amazing Grace’ and tell me how wonderful everyone is.”

  Asher’s shoulders dropped. “If you’re expecting me to spew rainbows and sunshine every time I speak, then you picked the wrong person. That’s not who I am.” He stood abruptly.

  She knew unspoken disappointment. She’d seen it in people’s eyes her whole life. But somehow, seeing it in Asher’s made her want to erase every word she’d just said.

  “Wait.” She grabbed his hand before he could walk away. “I went there today because you were kind enough not to treat me like a stereotype. I’m sorry I didn’t give you the same courtesy. You can be as gloomy as you want to be. I promise.”

  A stream of laughter echoed from the nearby swings while Katie waited for absolution.

  It came with a squeeze to her fingers. “Don’t mind me. I’m extra sensitive today.”

  Katie let go of his hand, feeling strangely flushed by the simple touch, and scooted over so he could sit back down.

  “So what’s with the truckloads of stuff I see you hauling away every afternoon?”

  Her groan could probably be heard a mile away. “My mom became a hoarder while I was gone. Three days”—she put up a corresponding number of fingers—“three days, and I only made it through half the dining room. And I need to figure out how to move a couch that weighs more than an elephant. My dad said he’d do it, but he practically threw out his back just helping me with my luggage.”

  The corner of his mouth quirked up. “I can help you get rid of it. Just text me when you’re ready.” He pulled out a cell phone, and she wondered again if there was an end to his kindness.

  “That’s okay. I don’t want to put you out.”

  “We’re neighbors.” He set the phone in her hand. “That means we take care of each other.”

  She doubted her dad shared his opinion, but she punched her number into As
her’s phone all the same. Only three people in town had it: her parents, and now him. “Thanks. I know my folks haven’t exactly been the friendliest, so if you change your mind, I get it.”

  He slipped his phone back into his pocket. “I won’t change my mind.”

  She could feel his conviction, the finality of each word, and wondered what it must be like to know yourself so well. She had yet to finish anything she’d started, and here Asher was the same age but a college graduate who owned his home and built an outdoor area that could be featured in a magazine. And she knew if he said he’d move the couch, he would move the couch.

  “So why were you at church today?” Curiosity laced his voice, but she also sensed a deeper motive. Like he truly wanted to understand her.

  Katie kept her hands in her lap and stared at them. Nothing had gone right that morning, and she wasn’t entirely sure she was ready to spill her guts to her next-door neighbor. But at the same time, she wanted him to know that she was no longer that girl he’d known in high school. “I started going to church in Florida. There was a minister there who helped me understand it all, or at least understand enough to know I wanted a new beginning. He taught me to pray and then held my hand when I did for the first time.” She snuck a peek at him. “I know it’s impossible to believe, but I really have changed.”

  Asher’s eyes locked on to hers. His were light brown, only a shade darker than gold, and while they didn’t betray a thing about what he was thinking, a world of experience radiated through them. How had she never noticed the depth of this man?

  “It’s not impossible to believe,” he finally said. “In fact, now everything makes sense.”

  Maybe to him. She still felt as if she were swimming through molasses.

  A caravan of cars flew through the parking lot, and seconds later the noise at the park had doubled. Katie combed her fingers through her hair and pretended to be interested in the strands. He was still staring at her in that unnerving way of his. Unlike other men, Asher’s gaze went much deeper than her bare skin. It penetrated places she wasn’t even willing to examine herself.

  He slapped his hand on the table and stood. “I think this calls for a celebration.”

  “What?” Her eyes widened. “Why would we celebrate?”

  “Because we both went to church today, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence.” Victory rang through his tone, leaving Katie even more confused.

  “I didn’t even make it through half the service,” she reminded him.

  Asher leaned in, and she caught the slight scent of his cologne. Spicy and dark. A complete contradiction to the man in front of her. She swallowed when he inched closer.

  “Katie. You walked in the door. That makes you braver than most of the people in this town.”

  “I’m not brave,” she whispered, her throat constricting to the point of hurting. She pushed down the sadness and let practiced mischief seep back into her voice. “I’m a risk taker, remember?” She slid away from him. “Reckless.”

  “Reckless or courageous? There is a difference.” The wind ruffled his hair, and a strand freed itself from its styling. It drew her gaze to his face. A mistake, because she could now see his smile, playful and challenging, and for some insane reason it made her smile back.

  “Definitely reckless.”

  “We’ll see. You never know what God will do with that firecracker spirit of yours.”

  Her throat flushed hot. You only have to pretend for a few months, Firecracker. Do this and we’re set for years.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, pushed Cooper’s voice from her head, and practically fell as she attempted to get off the table. “I should go.”

  Asher steadied her. “You okay?”

  No, she wasn’t okay at all. But her demons weren’t something he could help her with. “I’m fine. Just hot. Besides, don’t you churchgoing types always have some kind of potluck thing you do on Sundays?”

  He let go and laughed. “You know, I’d love to say that stereotype isn’t true, but I can’t. And honestly, I kind of like it.” He patted his stomach and his eyes sparkled.

  She could picture it: Asher mingling with a crowd of people, making each one feel special and important. He was like that in high school too. Outgoing and friendly. Back then, she’d thought it was an act. After all, that was what she had done all through high school: put on a show.

  They fell in step together, passing a large family eagerly rolling two coolers toward the picnic table they had abandoned.

  “You could come with me today. My mom loves extra people around the table.”

  Katie practically choked. “You may think I’m fearless. But there’s no way I’m eating lunch at the pastor’s house. I’d have to bathe in holy water for, like, three weeks first.”

  He quit walking. “That is by far the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said.” Shaking his head, he resumed his long strides. “My dad is seriously the most down-to-earth person I know. He’s no different than you or me.”

  When they got to her car, Katie crossed her arms. “Really? Prove it. What books sit on his coffee table?”

  “His coffee table?”

  “Yes. You find out a lot about a person by the books they display. So what are they?”

  Asher’s brows pinched as he tried to recall, and she knew the minute he remembered because his lips pursed.

  “Ha!” she said and pointed at him. “I’m totally right. What are they?”

  He shook his head, but he was also grinning now. “Doesn’t mean a thing.” He backed away toward his car. “You’re just looking for excuses.”

  “Ten bucks says you’ll switch them out today,” she shouted across the lot.

  “Hope you like that couch. Don’t see it moving by itself anytime soon,” he yelled back.

  Katie fumbled with her keys, feeling an unfamiliar joy bubble in her gut.

  For a few minutes, she almost forgot who she used to be.

  CHAPTER 9

  Even the familiar car parked in front of his parents’ house wasn’t enough to ruin Asher’s mood or wipe away the ridiculous grin he’d been wearing since he left the park.

  He’d laughed. For the first time in months, he’d laughed and actually meant it.

  “Asher? Is that you?” his mom called when he shut the front door. She quickly appeared in the hallway, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “What took so long? Your father actually beat you home.”

  “I swung by the park on my way.”

  She lifted a brow and tossed the towel onto her shoulder. “Should I ask how you went from brooding to cheerful, or should I just enjoy it?”

  He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Just enjoy it.” Because they both knew an hour spent with Darrell Wheeler would drive off whatever joy he’d managed to find.

  Voices echoed from the kitchen, the bellow of Mr. Wheeler’s carrying farther than the others.

  She exhaled, a long whoosh of air. “I should have warned you he was the deacon this week.”

  “It’s fine.” Not really, but he could fake niceties with the best of them. Besides, if Katie could muster the courage to walk into Fellowship, he could certainly sit through lunch with the man who’d sided with Jillian’s father.

  The kitchen was in full chaos by the time Asher and his mom entered. Little voices begged for drinks, chairs scraped against the floor, and a long line of people wove around the island in the center. At a quick glance, he counted fourteen, not including him or his parents.

  His mom gave him a slight shove. “Go get in line before it’s all gone.”

  Not possible. There was enough pot roast, potatoes, green beans, and coleslaw to feed an army, but he was more than ready to help polish it off. He fell in line behind Ms. Ferris, a widow of five years and his mom’s focus for April. Every month, she’d pick an elderly person in their church and would help them with household chores or rides to the doctor.

  “Afternoon, Asher.” Ms. Ferris’s words weren’t accompanied with a sm
ile, but he wasn’t surprised. Frown lines were etched deep in her face and had been as long as he could remember. “Great service today.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He didn’t confess he’d been far too distracted to pay attention, or that once he’d caught sight of Katie leaving, he’d abandoned the pretense of trying to listen.

  “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you there.” She took a few pieces of meat and continued down the line.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Is that new job making you work Sundays now? ’Cause I hear they are doing that type of stuff, and it’s just shameful. When I was a girl, every store in town shut down on the Lord’s Day. Now, you can shop at all hours of the night, every day of the week. Ridiculous. Kids these days have too much stuff as it is. Can’t hardly pull their eyes from those minicomputers either.”

  Asher piled meat on his plate and threw a help me glare at his mom. She immediately came to his rescue.

  “Barbara, let me take your plate.” His mom lifted the paper ware from the old woman’s hands and ushered her to an empty seat.

  He trailed along behind. Most people knew why he’d stopped going to church and had the courtesy not to rub salt in the wound. He’d bet his lunch Ms. Ferris knew too.

  The volume of the conversation rose as seats were grabbed and glasses were filled. Asher eyed the available spots and squeezed into the one farthest away from the Wheelers, who’d avoided eye contact since he walked in. A much-too-familiar burn ignited in his stomach, but he wouldn’t allow them to destroy the warm relief talking with Katie had brought, even if he could hear bits and pieces of Darrell’s conversation across the table.

  “. . . and I told him those chairs were not be moved . . .”

  “. . . it’s just not right. Our class purchased them, and I don’t care if the choir is short . . .”

  “. . . that’s what Henry said too. Anyway, it’s all been settled . . .”

  Asher clutched his napkin, set it carefully on his lap, and began to silently count to a hundred, throwing the one thousand in between, to make it last longer. When he’d reached twenty-eight, his father strolled into the room.