A House Full of Hope Read online

  Mark’s jaw twitched as if he were grinding his teeth back and forth. “Thank you for your time.”

  She took his outstretched hand and forced herself to look into his face—his too-handsome face, a scar near the left eyebrow the only thing marring its perfection. She hated to continue the conversation but needed to know his plans so she could make sure to avoid him.

  “Will you be staying with your dad while you’re visiting?”

  She thought for a minute that he might laugh, but then she realized it was a grimace. “No. I guess I’ll need you to point me to a hotel.”

  From the look of him, he liked nice things. He might not appreciate their little motel over by the lake. “The Cardinal Motel is still here. Or the Gunters opened a new B and B not far from your dad’s house.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Hughes. I’ll try the B and B.” He stared at her a moment. “You look familiar. Is Hughes your married name?”

  “Yes.” Part of her wanted to ignore the questions and hurry out of her office. But another part wanted to tell him her maiden name. To see if he even remembered ruining her sister’s life.

  She chose the latter. “I’m Hannah Williams Hughes.”

  He sucked in a breath, then quickly closed his mouth.

  Oh, yes. He definitely remembered. Not that his remembering could change a thing for Sydney.

  Stunned, Mark stared at Hannah Williams. He couldn’t believe God had led him back to Corinthia to make amends, then tossed a Williams into the mix the moment he hit town.

  Dealing with Hannah would make his job that much more difficult. “Good to see you again, Hannah.” A rote reply, even though he’d rather be anywhere but talking to Sydney’s sister.

  She didn’t return the sentiment. She simply brushed past him and walked out of her office. “I’ll see you to the door.”

  He followed as she marched across the high-ceilinged lobby, the click of her high heels echoing off all the marble. She was trim, but the boxy skirt and fitted jacket couldn’t hide her curvy figure. How could he have not recognized her vivid green eyes?

  She’d been a pesky middle-schooler when he’d dated Sydney. Had worn dark-framed glasses back then and had been serious, studious. She used to stare at him—until he’d finally asked her why. She’d blushed and claimed she wasn’t staring. After that, she didn’t hang around often. Acted scared of him.

  Which was smart. All girls should have stayed away from him at the time.

  At the front of the lobby, she held the door open for him. Her expression, cool and closed, said his actions had not been forgiven or forgotten over the past fifteen years. Apparently, his father wasn’t the only one holding a grudge. He would need to make amends with the Williams family, as well. A daunting task.

  But obviously, God expected it.

  “The B and B is a couple of miles out, on the left, heading to your dad’s house. Is there anything else you need?” Hannah asked from her post as bank bouncer, her tone dismissive.

  If only he could just thank her and head out the door, straight back to Seattle. You can do this with God’s help. “No, thanks.”

  Hannah, as pretty as she was, glared at him, her anger evident. “Enjoy the visit with your dad.”

  He gave her a smile that used every last ounce of energy, then slipped his sunglasses back into place.

  An ache tore through his chest as he concealed his Ryker eyes. It would be best to remain anonymous since everyone else in town would probably feel the same way Hannah did. The way his dad did.

  Redd would never welcome him back. Would never forgive him for all the hurt he’d caused when he left town. Lord, help me to make amends while I’m here. And if it’s not too much to ask, please enable those I’ve hurt to forgive me.

  Even if Mark could somehow prove God had changed him, that he’d grown up to make something of his life, he knew he was after the impossible. Because the fact still remained: Mark was responsible for his twin brother’s death. His dad would never forgive him for that.

  Chapter Two

  That evening, Hannah drove to pick up her four children at her mother’s duplex apartment not far from the bank. Their daily stampede to the front door to greet her never failed to lighten the stress of the day. Even the stress of facing Mark Ryker. They’re such a joy, Lord. Thank You.

  Donna eyed her from head to toe, as if taking inventory. “Hello, Hannah. Rough day?”

  Obviously, she looked harried. “A little.”

  Without a hair out of place, Donna directed the kids to gather their belongings, which sat neatly packed by the front door. Always a bundle of energy, she didn’t look like a woman who’d watched a house full of kids for nine hours. Even her hazel eyes seemed bright, not tired. The woman was amazing. Only the streaks of silver at her temples and scattered through her brown hair gave away the fact that she was a grandmother.

  “Come on, kids. I imagine you’re hungry.”

  Donna smoothed Tony’s hair. “You know good and well their nana wouldn’t let them leave hungry.”

  “We had a snack,” the twins called in unison.

  She thanked her mother for babysitting and hurried them to the car. She made sure all four were buckled in her minivan and then she drove toward home.

  “There’s our old house,” Becca said, same as she did every day, as they approached the apartment complex they’d called home for the past seven years.

  Hannah looked in the rearview mirror and discovered Becca, with her dark pigtails and pink-framed glasses, staring out the window. “Yes. Do you miss it?”

  “I do,” Tony said. Her child who didn’t like change. Who hadn’t wanted to move so far from his nana.

  “Not me,” Becca said. “I like having my own room.”

  She slowed as they passed. So many memories at that apartment, good and bad…

  Memories of Anthony and her moving in when Becca was a toddler and Tony was a baby. Tony taking his first steps across the kitchen floor. The surprise of another pregnancy. Bringing home the twins to a too-small apartment. Struggling through those early days with no sleep and tons of bottles and diapers. Trying to make sure Tony and Becca got enough attention while taking care of newborns. Watching her husband, Anthony, drag in the door each evening, worn-out from working overtime to support their expanding family.

  Anthony getting more and more tired. To the point he could hardly work. Then those life-altering words from her husband’s mouth: “I have cancer.”

  That simple sentence reverberated through her mind as if he’d uttered it just yesterday. Hannah stifled a sob and beat back the grief that clawed and left her raw inside. Grief that could suck her under its dark, smothering weight if she let it. No time right now. Too much to do.

  She closed the door on the painful memories and forced herself to look ahead. She had four beautiful children who were her world. And she had finally provided them the spacious house she and Anthony had always wanted for them.

  Lots of space to run and play. Five bedrooms—one each. A huge kitchen with a table big enough to hold everyone plus friends and family. A room with lots of shelf space, the perfect library for nine-year-old Becca and her precious books. A barn and woods for seven-year-old Tony to explore. And a brand-new swing set she’d bought on layaway for six-year-old Emily and Eric.

  She turned to look at four smiling faces in the back of the van. Sweet faces that never failed to lift her spirits. Their unconditional love was the only thing that had kept her going the past two years, that had given her the strength to start this new phase of their lives. “Well, our new home is working out well.”

  Becca pushed her glasses higher up on her nose, her big brown eyes wide with wonder. “I wish Nana would babysit us at our new house. There’s so much new territory to explore, so much to show h
er.”

  Since Becca’s nose was always in a book, particularly of the Nancy Drew mystery variety, Hannah had no doubt the old farmhouse had opened up a whole new world for her daughter. But Hannah’s mother refused to set foot on Ryker property. “We’ll see.”

  As she drove away from downtown Corinthia, the courthouse and storefronts shrinking in her rearview mirror, Hannah imagined she could breathe more deeply. Along the ten-minute drive, homes grew farther apart, and the landscape changed to pastures dotted with cows or horses and the occasional farmhouse.

  When she reached Redd Ryker’s mailbox, she turned onto their property and glanced at the dashboard clock. Mark’s visit, and the fact that he’d left her stewing, had put her behind all day long.

  “Since it’s so late, how about I make frozen pizza for dinner?”

  Squeals and clapping hands rattled her brain as she wound along the dirt-and-gravel road for about a hundred yards. Trees arched over the drive from each side, forming a canopy dappled with the evening sunlight. The tranquility even managed to quiet the kids.

  “I love this part,” Tony whispered.

  They entered the clearing, and the house came into sight. The squeals and clapping began anew.

  “Can I play outside?” Emily begged.

  “Me, too?” Eric added as he unbuckled and tried to climb over Emily to get out first. He could never let Emily do something before he did.

  “For about a half hour.” Hannah pointed to the left side of the house toward the garage apartment where Redd lived. “Y’all play in the side yard or out back in case Mr. Redd drives up. Be sure to stay out of the way.”

  “Okay, Mommy!” Emily yelled as the four escaped from the van to play under the huge live oak tree towering over the freestanding two-story garage. Hannah unlocked the front door, stepped inside and nearly tripped over boxes that still needed unpacking.

  Two weeks since they moved, and she’d barely made a dent in the number of boxes. But with her job and the kids home for the summer, she could hardly find time to cook and do the laundry. Unpacking had to be done in bits and snatches.

  She went to turn on the oven to preheat, then plopped down on a box marked Hughes—kitchen.

  Though she was thrilled to have the house, disappointment nibbled at her joy. She had hoped to build her dream home, a haven for her and the kids, and to finally experience the security of owning a home. But once the medical bills and funeral expenses had been paid, the insurance money was nearly gone. Anthony had made the mistake of procrastinating on increasing his policy once the children were born.

  We’re young and healthy, he’d said. We need the money for groceries.

  And, foolishly, she hadn’t insisted he rectify the situation. Now, all she’d been able to afford was a larger rental property. Home ownership would have to come later.

  She opened the box she’d been sitting on and dug to find the round baking sheet. After washing it, she pulled the pizza out of the freezer and popped it into the oven.

  The kitchen was slowly looking homier. At least now they didn’t have to squeeze into a three-bedroom apartment, and once school started in the fall, they wouldn’t be stepping all over each other as they got ready for work and school in the mornings. Even if the Ryker house didn’t belong to them, it was still theirs for the time being.

  As long as Mark didn’t cause a problem.

  The front door banged open, and Becca barreled into the room, winded. “Can we let Blue out of his pen?”

  She smiled at her precious daughter, who’d begged for a pet for the past three years. Redd’s dog, a sweet and endlessly patient black Labrador retriever, had been almost as big a draw as the house. “You sure can.”

  As Becca zipped back outside with an echoing whoop of joy, worry crept over Hannah. What if Mark had come home to stake a claim? She looked around a room where Mark and his brother, Matt, would have eaten their meals with friends and family.

  What if Mark suddenly had an interest in the family home?

  Hannah knew she would do whatever she had to do to keep her kids happy.

  Since Hannah had thwarted Mark’s plan to check into his dad’s financial state, on Saturday morning he decided to return to the house and do a closer inspection. To estimate the cost of needed repairs.

  He’d assumed Redd would be at the hardware store, but an unfamiliar green minivan sat parked out front. The truck he’d seen the day before was gone. He should probably knock before walking the property. In case his dad was there. And if he was…

  Well, Mark would try once again to apologize.

  This time, he looked more closely as he inspected the dirty front porch that fronted three sides of the old home. When he reached the far corner, he caught himself grabbing for the cobweb-covered broom as if he were still ten years old. Sweeping the porch had been his and Matt’s job—a chore they’d deemed too girly.

  He smiled at the memory, yet being on their old stomping grounds intensified the emptiness that never quite left him.

  Matt, who’d suffered mild brain damage at their birth, hadn’t been as strong and healthy as Mark. Mark had always tried to include him, though. But one day when they were fifteen, and their dad shooed them from the hardware store, Mark talked Matt into going fishing on the lake. Into taking out their dad’s boat, knowing good and well they weren’t supposed to go alone…knowing Matt couldn’t swim.

  As he turned away from the broom and faced the front door, he doubted his sanity. Only a glutton for punishment would return to this house again. We are more than conquerors through Him who loved us, he reminded himself, a Bible verse he had clung to for years.

  He raised his fist to knock, but something tugged on his pant leg.

  “Hi, Mister.” A little boy about five or six years old stared up at him with big brown eyes. “Are you looking for Mommy?”

  After a glance around the porch and yard, he squatted down to the child’s level. “No. I’m looking for my, uh…” daddy? “…father.”

  All business, the boy crossed his arms and seemed to ponder the situation. “You look kinda old to be lost.”

  Trying to match the boy’s expression, Mark stifled a laugh. But then sobered when he realized how close to home the boy had hit. “Actually, this is my house. My dad lives here.”

  The kid shook his head. “You really are lost. ’Cause this is my new house.”

  Laughter sounded somewhere off to the side of the house. Then three children appeared around the corner, chattering. One by one, they stopped talking when they saw Mark.

  Only the youngest girl approached and tromped up the steps. “Who are you?”

  “He’s lost,” the first boy said, as if imparting the juiciest of secrets.

  “Lost?” The oldest girl hurried up the steps and scrutinized Mark. “How exciting.” Large brown eyes that matched the youngest boy’s widened. She peered at him from behind pink, sparkly plastic-rimmed glasses. “I can help. I’m good at solving mysteries.”

  A bush swished as the last child—a boy somewhere between the oldest and younger two in age—kicked around the overgrown shrubbery, ignoring the investigation on the porch.

  Mark turned back to the others. “Actually, I’m looking for my dad, Redd Ryker. He lives here. And you are…?”

  “My children.”

  Mark turned and found Hannah Hughes behind the screen door. Inside his family home. She looked even less friendly than yesterday.

  “See, I told you this was my house,” the youngest boy said.

  Hannah stepped outside, and as the door swung open, Mark caught a glimpse of boxes in the entryway. As if someone was moving.

  He pointed to the boxes. “What’s going on?”

  “Kids, go wash up. There’s a snack on the table.”

 
Once they’d scampered into the house, Hannah turned back to him. “We’re renting from your father.”

  Incredulous, he sputtered, “That can’t be. My dad would never rent this place. It belonged to his grandfather.” And was Mark’s home, even if he hadn’t set foot in it for years.

  A sudden longing to be close to his mom again made it difficult to speak. He wanted to go inside, see what had become of his old bedroom. Of his spot at the kitchen table. Of his mother’s things.

  Hannah looked away, almost guiltily. “Apparently, he’s decided he doesn’t need such a big house and prefers to live in the garage apartment.”

  The garage? No matter how badly Mark had wronged this woman’s family, he couldn’t let her run all over his family. “Look at this place. It’s run-down. My guess is you took advantage of his financial difficulties.”

  There it was again—a flash of guilt. “We simply responded to an ad in the newspaper.”

  He took a step closer and stared into her eyes. They were a beautiful, pure green and couldn’t hide a thing. “Now I understand why you wouldn’t give me information about Dad’s finances at the bank yesterday.”

  He had to give her credit. She didn’t back down. No, she actually leaned in closer. “I told you. I don’t have authorization to divulge information on your father’s accounts.”

  “Accounts, plural? Maybe including a line of credit?”

  Her face revealed a flicker of something he took as confirmation before she turned away. “I need to go check on the kids.”

  “I see you’re not settled yet. I suggest you and your husband wait to unpack. Before I leave town, I’d like to know that all Dad’s finances are in order and he’s back in his home.”

  “I have a signed contract that says we’re staying.”

  “I guess we’ll see about that.” As he strode to the garage, he promised himself he’d get to the bottom of the situation. If his dad was in the bind he suspected, then Mark had to make sure he was financially secure. Redd might refuse to speak to him, but surely he wouldn’t refuse help. Mark would park himself in the garage if he had to, until his dad listened to reason.