The Carpenter's Wife

“Tara doesn’t stop to think about things like that. She’s a workaholic—so she expects everyone else to be the same. The only problem is, since her husband died, she’s poured herself into her work even more, and now, I’m afraid she’s neglecting her three daughters.”

“Reminds me of my mother—and Stone, too,” Rock said before thinking. “Not that he’s married with children. But he works 24/7. Guess he did get a couple of my mother’s traits.”

“Maybe we should introduce Tara and him,” Ana said with a skeptical smile. Then she added, “Don’t get me wrong. Tara loves her girls. It’s just been…hard on all of us since Chad died. I don’t think Tara even realizes that the girls are still grieving, too. They are acting out in all sorts of ways, but she can’t seem to connect on why.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Rock said, coming to lean on the wall opposite her. “But it sounds very familiar. Our mother at least understood…when our father died. She tried to comfort us, but then she got caught up in her work and we somehow learned to fend for ourselves most days. I don’t know, though, if a child ever gets over that kind of grief.”

Ana nodded. “That’s the way it’s been with the girls lately. All teenagers now, too.”

“Wow. And she’s going to pass them off on you?”

“I love them. And Tara doesn’t trust anyone else. My parents are at that age where they travel a lot, when they aren’t sick or volunteering. The girls can be a handful, so they can’t keep them for more than a few days at a time. And Chad’s parents live out in Texas—Ana won’t let the girls go that far away over the summer. She’s there with them now, for a short visit, but I doubt the girls will want to stay in Texas all summer. That leaves me, I guess.”

“And me,” Rock heard himself saying. “Listen, Ana, this is small island. Everyone knows everyone. We all watch out for each other. We can help with the girls.”

She looked up at him, awe sparkling in her green eyes. “You’d do that…for me?”

“Of course. Mother would love it, too, I’m sure. They can swim, run around the village, learn to make pottery. There’s lots to entertain teenagers here.”

“You haven’t met these three yet—they are eleven, thirteen and fourteen—going on thirty.”

Rock leaned forward, taking in the sight of Ana standing there in the semidarkness, her fiery hair wind-tossed, the scent of the ocean still surrounding her. “If they are anything like their aunt, I can’t wait to meet them.”

Ana moved away, ran a hand through her hair. “Well, I have to think long and hard about this, but not tonight. It’s getting late. And we have lots of work to do tomorrow.”

Rock followed her to the front door. “Back to business, right?”

“Yes, business is what brought me here. But I did enjoy dinner.”

“Even though I told you all about the Dempsey family dysfunctions?”

“Every family has dysfunctions, as you can see from my sister’s phone call.”

“Maybe so. But, Ana, I want you to understand. I love my mother and my brothers—they mean the world to me. And since becoming a minister, I’ve learned we can’t control other people. We can only control how we react to them, and we have to leave the rest in God’s hands.”

She glanced down at the phone. “It’s hard to do that.”

“Yes, it is. But we can do the next-best thing. We love them—unconditionally, sometimes with trepidation, sometimes with a bit of anger and resentment, but always, knowing that if family needs us, we have to come through.”

“Like me, with my sister? I should tell her yes, bring the girls to me?”

“If that’s what you want to do in your heart.”

“I love those three. I’ve always wanted children.”

“You might be the best thing for them right now. A good, positive role model.”

“Me?” She scoffed, shook her head. “I’m just their old-maid aunt who loves art and reading and cooking. I’m the plain sister, Rock, in case you haven’t figured that out yet.”

He leaned close again, one hand on the old brass doorknob. “Oh, I’ve figured out a lot of things about you, Ana. And I’m looking forward to working through the rest.”

He heard her sigh.

“The rest?”

“The rest of what makes Ana Hanson such an interesting, pretty woman.”

“Interesting and pretty describes my outgoing, dynamic sister, not me.”

“I don’t recall asking you about your sister. I’m only interested in getting to know you. And you are by no means plain.”

“Really, Rock, there’s not much to me.”

Rock reached up, pushed at a burnished curl clinging to her cheek. “There’s more than you know, Ana. Much more.”

Ana stepped back, away from his touch. “Remember, you were hired to work on restoring my cabinets, not me.”

Rock could tell she was scared, uncomfortable. He felt much the same way. And he still wasn’t sure where all of this might lead. “Fair enough,” he said. “But I’ve learned something about restoration over the years. Sometimes, if we keep polishing and pampering, we find true treasures underneath all the dirt and dust and neglect.”

“You’re talking in riddles again.”

“I’m telling it like it is,” he replied as he backed out the door. “You are a treasure, Ana. And somebody needs to show you that.”

She just smiled and said, “Thank you. You’re awfully sweet to try and make me feel better.”

Then she closed the door. Rock could hear the click of the lock, effectively shutting him out of her life for now.

“You should feel better,” he thought. “Someone needs to show you how special you are.” Rock decided that he was just the man for the job.

Chapter Four

“I invited Ana to dinner tonight—with you and me.”

Rock stared across the workshop at his mother. “That explains this surprise visit.”

Eloise rarely came to his workshop. She rarely left the compound of her home and studio. And she never cooked. Her groceries, housekeeping and other essentials, including real cooked meals, were now taken care of by a capable couple that lived in a small cottage near her property.

Rock had been pleased, but curious, when his mother had waltzed into the workshop this morning. Now he understood, of course. Eloise was up to matchmaking again.

“What if I have plans?”

“You never have plans, Rock. When was the last time you actually dated anyone?”

He had to stop and think. “I paid a visit to a single woman just the other night.”

Eloise lifted a finger, wagging it at him. “You’ve been watching wrestling on Saturday nights with old Miss McPherson again, haven’t you, son? That doesn’t count.”

“Okay, it’s been a while. But you know how it is, Mom. I work.”