In Hope's Shadow. Janice Kay Johnson

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In Hope's Shadow - Janice Kay Johnson


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knew she was blushing now. He intended to kiss her. Thank heavens the lighting in here was dim and her skin didn’t show the warmth as obviously as someone much paler would.

      “Your kid,” he prompted.

      Kid? Then, embarrassed by what must be a blank expression, she said hurriedly, “His name is Joel Kekoa. His dad is Hawaiian and Joel looks it, too.”

      “Wait. Does he play football?”

      “Yes. You go to games?”

      “Sometimes. He’s good.”

      “So I’m told. I mean, I’ve seen him play, but I’m not a connoisseur. He’s a senior, and had the fun of being recruited by half a dozen major college programs.”

      “Yeah? Which one did he pick?”

      “The University of Oregon.”

      Ben nodded, then waited for her to continue. He must know that grades weren’t the problem; she wouldn’t have been tempted to call him about anything like that.

      So she explained about the grumpy old man next door to Joel’s foster home, and about the smashed rose canes. She surprised herself by also sharing her unease with the new foster mother and her son.

      “Then I had a call in the middle of the night from a Deputy Pruitt.”

      Ben nodded.

      “Somebody threw a rock through the guy’s bedroom window. I guess it just missed him. It was big enough, it could have done some real damage. The deputy says it was thrown hard. It skipped off the bed and smashed into the closet door, scarring it. Mr. Rowe—that’s the neighbor—insists it had to be Joel who threw it. He’s big, athletic, has a good arm, and supposedly was mad because Mr. Rowe complained to the foster parents about the damage to his roses.”

      “Was he?”

      “No. He was more upset that the stepmom seemed to doubt him when he said he didn’t have anything to do with it.”

      She felt—and sounded—troubled. She’d only talked to the deputy on the phone, not in person, but from his tone she’d suspected he was rolling his eyes at her defense of Joel, the obvious culprit.

      Their spring rolls arrived, and she spooned dipping sauce to her small plate and took a roll, mumbling, “Ouch,” when she discovered how hot it still was.

      Ignoring the food, Ben asked, “Did the kid get arrested?”

      She gaped at him. “No! How could anybody prove he’d thrown the rock? There were no witnesses.”

      Expression inscrutable, he didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, “Why me? This doesn’t sound like anything that would normally be referred to a detective.”

      Was she imagining his restraint? Or was it that she’d imagined his sympathy the other night when she talked about the plight of foster children?

      “Just...to get your take.” She shrugged. “I had the feeling the deputy instantly agreed Joel was guilty. Foster kid, minor feud going on between him and the neighbor.”

      “Who do you think threw the rock?”

      Annoyed now at his measured tone, she raised her eyebrows. “How would I know? From what Joel said about the neighbor, he’s been at war with every kid that ever walked past his place. Never mind the adults. The last time I was over there, Joel and I were talking at my car, and Mr. Rowe was watching us out the window the whole time. Just a slit between drapes. You know.” For some reason, she didn’t tell him that Gavin had been doing the same, and more openly. She’d begun to regret ever mentioning the incident to Ben.

      “Okay,” he said mildly. “I’d have thought you’d go to Seth. You’ve known him longer, and he’s going to be your brother-in-law.”

      She made sure her tone was light. “It was impulse, that’s all.” Crazy to feel let down, disappointed because Ben didn’t jump immediately in on her side. “Don’t worry about it,” she added. “It was just that I had you on my mind after you called. If the impulse strikes again, I’ll call Seth. Family discount, right?”

      “No.” Ben’s gaze held hers. “Call me, not Seth. Anytime. I mean that.”

      Well. Eve had not a clue how to take this.

      “You’re right. I probably am more sympathetic than Seth is. He’s good with kids but doesn’t have any of his own, and until Bailey had probably never given a thought to issues foster kids have.”

      “And you have?”

      “My ex was in foster care by the time I knew her.”

      “A good one, I hope.”

      “Her last one seemed like it. But sometimes I wondered—” He cut himself off, alarm flashing in those shadowed eyes. “Doesn’t matter,” he said after a minute.

      Eve didn’t have any choice but to squelch her curiosity. Pretending she didn’t wish he’d finish that last thought, she said, “So you married your high school girlfriend?”

      He seemed almost embarrassed to admit he had. They’d gone their separate ways after his first few months of college, but Eve had the impression that might not have been by his choice. He’d initially taken a job with the busier and more urban King County Sheriff’s Department, which surrounded Seattle, but had run into Nicole again at a party and immediately applied for a job locally.

      “Ancient history,” he said then. “What about you? How’d you end up back in Stimson?”

      “Oh, once I went to work for DSHS, I asked to be assigned here. I thought my parents needed to have me close. You know their history.”

      He nodded. “Hope.”

      Always Hope. “They never quit grieving. I think I...softened their grief.”

      “I bet you did more than that,” he said gently. “I saw their faces when you walked into the living room the other night. You can’t tell me they don’t love you.”

      “No, I’m sure they do. I was really lucky that they took me in. I needed them, and they needed me.”

      She let him be satisfied by a simple truth that wasn’t the entire truth. Something way more complex almost always underlay simple, in her experience. But Eve was too ashamed of her unfulfilled longings to air them for him anyway.

      No, she told him, she’d never come close to anything as serious as marriage. “Just hasn’t happened,” she said, going for unconcerned.

      “What about Seth?”

      Surprised by his blunt question, she hesitated. It was good he felt compelled to ask, wasn’t it? Surely the implication was that he wanted to pursue a relationship with her. And, despite her hesitations, she couldn’t remember being as attracted to a man as she was to Ben.

      “I liked Seth,” she admitted. “I was more interested than he was, I suspect, but, honestly, we never got past a few casual dinners. A couple of movies.” She lifted one shoulder. “I didn’t take it very well when he dropped me, but I’ll bet you can guess why.”

      “Hope. Bailey,” Ben corrected himself.

      “Right. It took me a while to realize that what really hurt was being thrown over for her. I guess you can tell I have some unresolved jealousy going on here.”

      “I’d be surprised if you didn’t.” The smile in his eyes reassured her. “I saw your mother when she came to see Seth every week. The hurt and hope on her face—” He grimaced. “Poor choice of words. You had to have been left wondering...”

      When he didn’t finish, she did. “Whether I came close to filling the hole in their lives left by her disappearance? I didn’t wonder. I knew.”

      “You’re sure it wasn’t in your head? Even if the two


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