Family Ties. Bonnie K. Winn
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me why anyone would rather work in an office building than this charming place, but I’m sure Michael could help if you ask him.”
“That’s great,” Cindy concurred, not relinquishing Flynn’s gaze. “I’ll be needing the conservatory for one of my groups soon anyway.”
Katherine glanced between them, but didn’t comment on the visible tension. “Looks like the kids are getting along well.”
Belatedly Flynn and Cindy pulled their gazes from each other.
“So it does,” Flynn agreed, wishing Cindy wouldn’t look at him that way. There was no reason to feel guilty about telling the truth. Then he really looked at the kids. “How old are your children?”
Katherine’s face softened. “David’s the oldest. He’s eight. Annie’s six. And baby Danny’s fourteen months.”
Flynn watched them for a few more minutes. “The older ones are good with your youngest and my girls, as well.”
“They’ve always treated Danny as though they found him under the tree on Christmas morning,” Katherine replied with a winsome laugh. “But then, since he was a gift from God, that’s not so bad.”
Flynn swallowed the comment that sprang to mind. He didn’t have to agree with people to remain polite. “Still, you should be proud of them. Older children aren’t always so gentle with toddlers.”
Surprisingly Katherine’s eyes brightened with an unexpected sheen of tears. “I’m so proud of them I could burst. Annie, David, Danny and their father are the best things that ever happened to me.”
Cindy’s gaze suddenly held red-hot warning. So he chose his words carefully. “My girls mean the world to me, too.”
Katherine recovered her composure. “I know. Cindy’s told me about your late wife, and all the sacrifices you made to move to Rosewood.”
Startled, Flynn stared at Cindy.
However, her expression didn’t lighten. In fact, if he could identify the emotion lurking there, it would be suspicion. And for the life of him, he didn’t know what caused that.
“Mommy!” Annie hollered, running up to them, all dark hair and huge blue eyes. Seeing Flynn, she turned suddenly shy.
“Hi,” he said first. “I’m Flynn. You must be Annie.”
She bobbed her head up and down. “Uh-huh. Can the girls swing with me?”
Katherine stood. “How about if I supervise?” she asked Flynn.
He agreed and in moments he was alone with Cindy. “Is something wrong?”
She studied him. How could she tell him she still had doubts about his uncharacteristic move to Rosewood? She felt a desperate need to safeguard the life she’d built, afraid that her heart would outweigh her caution. Knowing none of it could be said, instead she shook her head. “No. I just didn’t expect you home so soon. I thought you wanted to work in your new office space.”
“About that…Why did you ask Michael Carlson to come by, without telling me?”
Exasperated, she all but snorted. “Are we back to that again? Are you a total control freak?”
“Not any more than you apparently.”
She counted inwardly to ten. “I know I’m not like Julia. I’m sure she deferred to your every comment and dictate. But I don’t operate that way. I do have opinions. And while I don’t always insist they’re right, I intend to express them.” Cindy paused. “Well, unless they hurt someone’s feelings, of course. But I’m not retiring and complacent. I have ideas. I make my own decisions.” She met his gaze, feeling her chest tighten. “And I’m not going to try to be someone I’m not.”
“I don’t recall asking you to,” he replied mildly. “But I would appreciate a heads-up when you send someone like Michael over.”
She frowned. “Didn’t you like him?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Everybody likes Michael,” she responded in instant defense, never forgetting how happy he had made her once-lonely best friend.
“Are you being deliberately obtuse?” Flynn asked. “I’m only asking that you not blindside me.”
“Then you did like Michael?” she asked hopefully. She knew Flynn needed to broaden his circle of acquaintances. And Michael was one of the nicest people she knew.
“He was all right,” Flynn replied.
Cindy took a deep breath, remembering that men didn’t verbalize their feelings, that Flynn had probably revealed all that was masculinely possible. “He and Katherine have been my anchors since I came to Rosewood. They’re good friends to have.”
“Hmmm.”
She sighed inwardly. “I mean they could be good friends for you, too, Flynn.”
“I’m not especially looking for a wild social whirl.”
For a moment the past hung between them, the gregarious, fun-loving social circle they’d once traveled in, the one that had brought the Thompson sisters together with Flynn. Cindy fiddled with a bluebonnet she’d plucked from the grass. “No, but everyone needs friends.”
“I don’t need to borrow yours.”
She wondered if it was Julia’s death alone that had created such intense barriers. “They’re not trinkets to be lent. One of the best things about a small town is getting to truly know people.”
“But it seems most of the ones you know are connected with the church.”
She frowned. “And that’s so bad?”
“It’s not for me.”
“Have you considered getting to know them before judging their value as friends?”
The negative motion of his head was reluctant. “Cindy, I appreciate all you’ve done for the girls…for me. But like the office, or sending Michael Carlson, it’s not necessary. You’re doing too much already. I’m used to calling my own shots.”
Unwanted compassion shadowed her thoughts and her voice. “But isn’t that a lonely way to live?”
He raised his brows. “Seems I could ask you the same thing. After all, you moved to a town where you knew only one person, and you live alone in a house big enough for a huge family. Doesn’t that seem a bit lonely to you?”
Pain, both past and present, assaulted her. He would never know just how lonely she’d been. How difficult her life had been since he’d pilfered her heart. And meeting his eyes, she wondered how she could continue hiding that from him.
Chapter Five
By Sunday morning, however, Cindy was ready to put that aside. She’d invited Flynn to attend services with her, but he had curtly refused. She had nearly expected the same response when she told him she wanted to take the girls. He’d hesitated, but finally agreed, telling her the social part of Sunday school probably wouldn’t hurt as long as she didn’t fill the girls’ heads with unrealistic ideas. In her opinion, nothing taught at her church was unrealistic, so she took him at his word.
And she chose to ignore the look on Flynn’s face when they left. One that said this, too, was simply a fad Cindy would outgrow.
The girls loved Cindy’s classic bright red convertible Mustang. Since she had left their curls loose and free, she didn’t care that the breeze mussed their soft hair.
“What’s at church?” Beth asked.
“That’s where we go to learn about God and Jesus.”
“Daddy says there’s no God,” Beth replied innocently.
Still