RAINBOW’S END: FOUR-IN-ONE COLLECTION Read online

  “But—”

  “Do you have any idea how much it cost to have these printed?” Yeah, he’d given a donation, but she’d already spent it on the printing bill.

  “Uh—I don’t know what to say. I had no idea your deadline was this close.”

  Puh–leeze. “The kickoff is just a week away. Ideally they should have been printed at least a month in advance.” It wouldn’t take much of a businessman to figure that out. But then, Kirk wasn’t a businessman. He was a professor, all locked away in his ivory tower where he could poke at Christians without consequence. Maybe that’s what he was still doing. Maybe he’d pretended to like her so he could make her look like a fool in front of Noah and the committee. Dad would call it justice. She squeezed back tears.

  “I—uh … Lyssa, this wasn’t my idea. I’m so sorry.”

  Yeah, right. “I don’t know if there’s anything that can be done, to be honest. The check has cleared, the money’s been spent, and the brochures are printed. In fact, I was just about to leave the office and start dropping them off at key locations around town.”

  Kirk’s voice hesitated. “Well, I’ll talk to Dale again, but I think he’ll still want a refund. Just for the main ad. I’ll pay the business back for the donation personally.”

  Big of him. Lyssa hardened her heart. “You can’t just give money to a nonprofit and then demand it back ten days later. I’m sorry, but that’s not how things work. If you’d said no the day I came asking, I’d have gone on to the next store, and eventually I’d have found the sponsors I needed. But it’s totally unfair to say oops when it’s all done.” Totally unfair to play with her heart, as well, but thankfully she’d seen his true colors had never changed before it was too late.

  But it was too late. She’d loved every minute she’d spent in his company. She’d let down her guard and fallen for his smooth charm. Why, oh why, hadn’t she listened to Jeannie? She should have followed through with her first instinct and marched straight back out Communication Location’s door that day when she’d recognized him.

  “Lyssa? I’m sorry.”

  She mumbled something and clicked to end the call. Maybe her original mistake had been accepting this volunteer position in the first place. She cradled her head in her arms on the desktop. She should have kept her faith separate from her public life, no matter what Jeannie said. Jeannie admonished her to be bold for Jesus everywhere she went. Lyssa hadn’t been bold with Kirk, though. Not really. She’d pretended her responsibility was over when he knew she went to church.

  How much time had she spent asking God for His advice? She cringed. Not enough. Not nearly enough.

  Kirk clicked off his cell and sank his head into his hands in Communication Location’s staff room. Stuck between a rock and a hard place. Such a fun spot to be. It didn’t much matter what he did next—neither Lyssa nor Dale were likely to forgive him any time soon. How had he gotten himself into this predicament? And, more to the point, how would he get out?

  He could practically hear Debbie’s voice. You could always pray.

  Easy for her to say. Well, no, it hadn’t been. Not when she was dying. Still, her sweet, gentle spirit had shone through, even in those last ugly days.

  His brother missed her as though half his body were gone. Amputees talked about phantom pain in missing limbs. That must be what Dale was going through. Kirk should have been more sensitive. Should have allowed his brother to call all the shots. Should have known.

  But how could he have? Dale had sat by his wife’s side Sunday after Sunday in their St. Louis church. There had been no way to guess Kirk would incur Dale’s wrath over this advertising. Debbie’s death had softened him but hardened his brother.

  A rustle sounded behind Kirk. He took a deep breath and glanced up to see Dale leaning against the staff-room door, holding his coffee.

  “So, did you tell her?”

  Kirk nodded slowly.

  “Good.” Dale shoved off the doorframe.

  “Wait. It’s not that simple.”

  Dale’s eyes narrowed. “It should be.”

  “She said the completed brochures are back from the printer. It’s too late to change them.”

  Coffee sloshed over the edge of his brother’s takeout cup.

  Kirk forged on. “Look, it’s not as though every sponsor has to sign some statement vowing we believe like them. It’s advertising, Dale. That’s all. It’s a big church. We’ll look good to the community.”

  Dale took a few shaky steps into the room and slumped into the other bright-red chair. “But …”

  Sympathy rolled over Kirk even as he could feel the win coming on. “I’m sorry we didn’t discuss the campaign in more detail before you left. It never crossed my mind that there would be any issues with this. After all, you and D—”

  “I remember, okay?” His brother jerked upright. “I know why you thought … why you didn’t think …”

  Oh, man. Kirk leaned across the table. “I wasn’t trying to rub salt in your wound.”

  “Everything does. Intentional or not.” Dale met Kirk’s gaze for an instant then stared at the cup in his hands as though unaware he turned it in circles. “It’s not your fault.”

  “I should have guessed.” No, that was ridiculous. He’d slid right back into his familiar role, taking all the blame whether it was the rightful place or not. And it usually wasn’t. Not that he could retract the words now.

  Dale took a long, deep slurp of his brew and set the cup on the table. “If it’s too late to retract, I guess it’s too late. If you were anyone else, I’d take it out of your hide, but you’re my brother. I’m thankful you entrusted me with your savings, so we’ll just ride it out the best we can.”

  Gracious of him. Kirk nodded sharply and kept his mouth zipped while his brother downed the remainder of his coffee, tossed the cup in the trash, and headed back into the store.

  Chapter 6

  Lyssa slammed the box of brochures on the counter in front of Melanie, wishing Kirk’s fingers were in the way. She’d like to crush them, crush him. “What am I going to do with all these? It took a week to get in line for a print run. There’s no time for a do-over.” To say nothing of zero time to find new sponsors.

  Melanie glanced at the windowed wall between Noah’s office and the reception area.

  Empty. Lucky guy had escaped before Kirk’s phone call. He’d have been in for an earful from Lyssa. Maybe seen some tears. They still burned in her eyes.

  “He can’t just cancel like that.” The receptionist’s voice held indecision.

  Lyssa gritted her teeth. She needed advice, a plan, maybe a Java Chiller over at the bistro. Melanie wasn’t going to be any help. She only drank decaf. Black.

  Lyssa’s cell-phone ring pierced the air, and she glanced at the display. Kirk’s number. She stuffed it back in her pocket, still ringing.

  “Not going to get that?”

  Lyssa shook her head and talked louder. “So, you don’t have any advice for me, then? When will Noah be back?”

  Melanie turned to the “Gone Fishing” clock on the office wall. “Not until after lunch.”

  The cell beeped. Great, Kirk was leaving a message. How much more could he say than he already had? Still, Lyssa’s hand tightened around the phone and waited for the signal he was done. She held up one finger to silence Melanie and clicked to hear his voice, turning away so her face couldn’t reveal her emotions any further.

  “Lyssa? Sorry I didn’t catch you. I talked to Dale some more, and we’re working things out. Can I pick up some of those brochures? I’ll swing by the church in just a few minutes. And, um, I want to talk to you.”

  How dare he put her through all this if it wasn’t a big deal after all? She’d been scrambling through her contact list, trying to think who might upgrade their sponsorship. She’d been panicking about getting another slot at the printer. She’d been …

  And now she was supposed to just smile and say, “Whew, glad it’s all good”? She
didn’t think so. He couldn’t get here fast enough to get a piece of her mind. The nerve of him.

  “Lyssa, are you okay?”

  Melanie. Lyssa turned to the counter and smacked the box of brochures. “I’m fine. Forget everything I said. Mr. Hot-Shot Professor has smoothed everything over, and the show will go on.”

  “That’s wonderful! What an answer to prayer.”

  “Yes.” Lyssa sucked in a deep breath. “Yes, it sure is.”

  Perspective. The heat she’d felt a moment before started to fade. No, she couldn’t face Kirk like this. Not while her anger flared. “Listen, Melanie, I need to run a few errands. Kirk said he’d be by to pick up some of these brochures. Mind if I leave them right here? He can help himself to however many he wants. Oh, and there’s a poster he can have for the window, too.” If his bossy brother would let him put it up. “Yes, that’s fine.”

  “Okay.” Lyssa jingled Kermit’s keys and glanced at the clock. “Not sure what time I’ll be back.” Only when she was sure Kirk had truly gone. That Java Chiller was sounding better and better.

  Kirk sped toward Osage Beach Community Church. Lyssa must have been in a meeting or something, but she’d be waiting for him. She’d be as relieved as he was that Dale had given in. Maybe they’d go for coffee then hunt a cache later.

  He turned the corner into the parking lot, but Lyssa’s bright-green car wasn’t there. Maybe she’d walked to the church this morning. He didn’t even know if she lived close enough. So many things needed clarifying, but the summer was young. They’d have plenty of time to get to know each other before the school year threatened to separate them.

  Kirk swung out of his car and strode up the church walkway then in through the glass doors. He stopped at the reception desk. “Is Lyssa in?”

  The woman eyed him speculatively. “No, she stepped out for a bit. You’re Professor Kennedy?”

  The sunshine streaming across the foyer floor seemed duller than a moment ago. He nodded. “She’s not here? But I talked to her only half an hour ago.” Of course that had been by cell, so she could have been anywhere. He frowned. Hadn’t she said she was at her desk?

  “She was here, but she’s gone now.” Sympathy shone from the receptionist’s eyes.

  Doubts flickered through Kirk’s brain. “When will she be back?” He needed to know she’d gotten his message. Maybe she was already out trying to find a new sponsor, despite her comments that it was too late.

  “She wasn’t sure.”

  It took an effort to keep his shoulders back as he nodded at the woman. “Okay. Thanks for telling me. I’ll catch up with her later.” Where or when, he didn’t know, if she didn’t answer his calls.

  “She did say you could help yourself to as many of the brochures as you needed.”

  Kirk jerked his head up. “Brochures?”

  It wasn’t his imagination. The woman knew something was up. She had to. She pushed the box on the counter closer to him. “Here.”

  He picked up a bundle of paper. This was crazy. Lyssa had obviously gotten his message. That had only been ten minutes ago, tops. She hadn’t taken his call, and then she’d left.

  So much for his daydreams.

  Chapter 7

  Lyssa sat slumped in a chair at On the Rise Bakery & Bistro, nursing a Java Chiller containing a double shot of mocha. The richly caffeinated chocolate tantalized her nostrils and swirled around inside her mouth. How could this much caffeine calm her? But it had, with a molten lava cake as helpmeet. She pressed her finger against the few remaining crumbs then licked them off.

  With the last deep-brown fleck gone, she said good-bye to Kirk Kennedy. Like the confection, he’d been a tantalizing pleasure while he lasted. Her gaze drifted to the dessert case. She could get another piece of cake, but her relationships wouldn’t be mended by indulging in more calories. Though it was a temptation. A strong one.

  “Hey, Lys. I thought you’d be at the church office.” Jeannie. Lyssa looked up. “Just taking a break.” Not that she could hide from Kirk forever, but she’d give it a good shot. “Gonna be here for a few? I’ll join you.” Whatever. Lyssa hitched her shoulder then watched as her roommate waved down a waitress and placed her order. The waitress reached for Lyssa’s plate, which was all but licked clean.

  Lyssa snagged the fork off it. “I’m having some of yours,” she informed Jeannie.

  “That bad?” Her roommate cocked her head. “You look like you just lost your best friend. But I’m here, so that’s not it.

  What’s up?”

  “You were right. I was wrong.”

  The waitress set a molten lava cake, mounded with vanilla bean ice cream, in front of Jeannie, along with a Java Chiller.

  Lyssa pulled the plate closer and dug her fork into the cake.

  “Of course I’m right.” Jeannie tugged the plate back and scooped a large bite. “What did I say? What context?”

  Like her roommate didn’t know. “Kirk. You told me to stay clear of him, but I figured I could handle things.”

  “What happened?” When Lyssa didn’t answer right away, Jeannie poked her hand gently with the fork. “Hey. Talk to me.”

  Lyssa sighed and updated her roommate. “He’s just playing with my mind.”

  “So you’re even, then.”

  “What?” Lyssa narrowed her eyes.

  “Seriously. You’ve been messing with him, too. How long did you expect to go in this relationship without ‘fessing up to the past? Did you think you’d tell him on your wedding day? Or maybe hold it in until you died of old age?”

  “I don’t know. The time just hasn’t been right. I hate confrontation.”

  “You need to let go of the issues with your parents.” Jeannie tapped the fork against the nearly empty plate.

  Lyssa reared back. “Thanks, Freud. What has that got to do with anything?”

  “I won’t even start on how your mom’s abandonment crushed you at your most vulnerable age. I cried over everything when I was twelve. Mama couldn’t even ask me for a weather report without me breaking into tears.”

  On Lyssa’s first day of junior high she’d come home to find that Mom had taken a suitcase and left a note. Lyssa had only cried the once. It hadn’t brought Mom back. A girl had to be tough to survive.

  “But I think you resent your dad more than your mother.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that. What kind of mother abandons her kids, leaving them with a man so tied up in his work he barely knows their names?”

  Jeannie nodded. “Don’t forget the crux of the matter.” She had another bite.

  Oh yeah. “His church work. He was so busy handing out tracts and explaining the way of salvation to people who didn’t even want to hear it that he had no clue what was going on in his own home.”

  “A respected community leader.”

  What, was her roommate crazy? Jeannie’d heard the stories. “When he finally went to school events, he discovered a treasure trove, a whole new captive audience he could preach at. He turned me into a pariah. Everyone laughed at me.”

  Jeannie set her Java Chiller, laced with hazelnut, back on the table. “And as a result, you veer away from mentioning your faith to anyone.”

  “I remember far too well what that ridicule felt like.” Lyssa met her roommate’s eyes. “That’s why Kirk—Professor Kennedy—made me so crazy in college. He treated you like an outcast, and you didn’t seem to care. I couldn’t take it all over again.”

  “I cared, but I couldn’t let him stomp all over me.” Jeannie studied her. “But even after your dad, even after humanities, you still believe. You’re still a Christian.”

  Lyssa spread her hands. “There isn’t anything that makes more sense to me. Faith gives me a reason for living. I do believe.”

  Jeannie leaned back in the chair. “If you were still dating Professor Kennedy, I’d say that you need to tell him that, one way or another, but I guess it doesn’t matter anymore, if you’re done with him.”

&nb
sp; Shards of ice surrounded Lyssa’s heart. Jeannie was right. It was too late.

  Kirk thumbed off his cell phone when his brother came in the apartment door. Two days later, and Lyssa still wasn’t picking up calls from him. He and Dale had been working flat out, preparing for Monday’s grand opening. “Everything ready?”

  Dale swung his briefcase onto the table. “Yep. Looks pretty good, if I do say so myself.” He headed over to the fridge and pulled a can of cola out of the box.

  “Yeah, it does.” Right down to the Rainbow’s End Treasure Hunt poster in the window. Dale had grimaced when Kirk put it up but hadn’t challenged him. Kirk would’ve been ready to argue, so maybe it was a good thing. “Ready for food? I can fire up the grill anytime.”

  “Sounds good.” Dale popped the tab and took a deep guzzle. “What’s for dinner?”

  “I’ve got a pasta salad in the fridge and some burgers ready to cook.”

  A shadow crossed Dale’s face as he sat back down. “I don’t know what I’m going to do when you go back to Jefferson City.”

  “Learn to cook?” Kirk meant the words lightly but wished he could bite them back when his brother’s jaw clenched.

  Dale looked down. “Yeah. I might have to.”

  He’d never much learned how, sliding through college on boxed mac ‘n’ cheese like most guys. And then married Debbie, who’d taken good care of him for most of the intervening years. Kirk, on the other hand, had eventually tired of packaged food and takeout, and applied himself to learning the culinary arts. There’d been no woman around offering to do it for him.

  He headed for the balcony door. Did Lyssa know how to cook? He bet she did. Any gal that was so adamant about not drinking soda probably cared even more about the quality of her food. Kirk could quit the cola and feel less withdrawal than not seeing her. The ache of her rejection showed no sign of lifting. Surely life would settle down a bit once the store was open and the treasure hunt rolling. He’d do everything he could to make amends.

  Kirk checked the propane valve on the barbecue then ignited it.