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

  Ron shook his head. “Don’t know. I haven’t been home.”

  “No cell phone, man?” Kirk laughed. “We’ll have to hook you up with one. It’s what we do, Dale and I. Communication Location: Gizmos, Gadgets, and More.”

  The man gave a self-deprecating smile. “I don’t really need one, thanks anyway. I doubt I miss many calls.”

  “Some people don’t like leaving voice mail.”

  Ron shook his head. “I don’t have that, either.”

  Telephone packages still provided the chance to opt out? Who knew?

  When the water boiled, Kirk emptied the package of linguine into it and gave it a stir. He turned back to Ron, who watched him with something like longing. “What happened to your family, Ron? Your kids won’t call on Father’s Day?”

  Ron’s gaze shifted back to the patio door as he shrugged. “My daughter might phone, but my wife left me. Ten, twelve years ago or so. Walked out, didn’t even say good-bye to the kids.”

  Pity welled up. “I’m sorry to hear that. Must’ve been tough.”

  The man’s jaw clenched, and he blinked a few times. Tears? “I wasn’t much of a husband. I didn’t know how to be a father.”

  The pot sputtered, and Kirk jumped to readjust it. He’d clean the mess up later. Whatever.

  “You told me God’s in the business of forgiving us. You convinced me.” Kirk studied Ron’s face. “Sounds like you’re in need of forgiving yourself.”

  Chapter 10

  Lyssa strode across the parking lot of Kirk’s ultramodern apartment complex, clutching her purse strap. She was nuts, but stopping now would be handing Jeannie the win. Her roommate already expected Lyssa to come home bawling in five minutes or less.

  But Lyssa owed it to Kirk—and herself—to tell him the truth, and to find out what, if anything, had changed to allow him to date a “church girl.” A Christian.

  Her heels clicked across the tile lobby toward the propped-open interior doors. She scanned the list of names until she found KENNEDY next to 414. Was she about to make a fool of herself? Would Kirk be willing to hear her out? Please God, don’t let it be too late.

  In minutes she stood in front of the apartment door. She took a deep breath and patted down her hair. Adjusted her skirt. And knocked.

  The door flew open, and a guy charged out, nearly running straight into her. “Sorry.” Then his gaze narrowed. “Who are you?”

  Not Kirk. A little shorter and not quite as cute. Must be his brother. “Are you Dale Kennedy?”

  He scowled. “Yes. Why?”

  His obvious displeasure sucked most of the bravado from her. “I’m Lyssa Quinn. Is Kirk in? I need to talk to him.”

  “You’re the girl from church.” His gaze flicked over her. “What’s gotten into him lately, anyway? First you—then I had to put up with a street preacher over lunch.”

  Street preacher? That didn’t sound like Kirk. Lyssa tried to see past Dale, but he filled the doorway. “Hey, man,” he tossed over his shoulder, still watching her. “Some girl here to see you. Says she’s Lyssa Quinn.”

  Lyssa!

  Kirk was most of the way to his feet when he heard a gasp. He spared a glance at Ron and saw the older man’s face pale. “You okay?”

  Ron glanced furtively around. “I—I …”

  Much as Kirk was thankful for Ron’s help, he needed to see Lyssa and find out why she was here. Get things on the right footing.

  It felt like the first day of school when he was a kid. Full of possibilities. Full of panic.

  “Kirk?” His brother’s voice hauled him back to the moment. “Want me just to send her away?”

  “No.” He pulled his gaze from his guest’s and took a step toward the door.

  Ron grabbed the hem of his shirt as Kirk passed by. “I’m not here.”

  Strange thing to say. Kirk pulled away from the man’s grasp and rounded the corner to the door.

  Dale shifted, clearing his line of sight.

  Kirk caught his breath. No khakis and a tee today, or shorts and a tank. She’d pulled her hair into some kind of knot and wore a lacy pink top with a narrow brown skirt. Heels.

  She was even more gorgeous dolled up. He couldn’t get enough of filling his eyes with her.

  Dale shook his head and pushed away from the doorjamb, heading back to the dining room, but Kirk barely noticed.

  He reached a hand toward her, but let it fall. “Lyssa?”

  “Hi.” She twisted the strap of her leather purse. “I—I need to talk to you. Is this a good time, or …”

  His brother’s voice rose from behind him. Whatever was going on between his guest and Dale was beyond Kirk. It really wasn’t a good time.

  There might never be a better time. “Come on in.”

  She hesitated then nodded and took a step forward.

  The hint of her perfume weakened his knees. “You’re beautiful.” He reached for her but remembered in time that he had no right. His hand fell to his side again.

  Lyssa’s startled eyes—topaz—locked on his. “Th–thank you.”

  “I’m outta here, man.” Dale’s voice came from behind Kirk’s shoulder. “That guy is loony, and I can’t handle this. I’ll be back later.”

  Dale nodded sharply at Lyssa and swept past them both, all but jogging for the elevator.

  That guy. What was he going to do about Ron? He’d invited him for dinner to learn more about his new faith, but partly so Ron could talk to Dale. That hadn’t gone over so well, and now Dale was hightailing it out of here. Maybe he could get Ron to come back another time, though the man had driven over from Jefferson City. Wasn’t Lyssa more important?

  Kirk drew Lyssa into the dining room, where the remains of the meal still sat on the table. Ron was nowhere to be seen.

  Lyssa pulled back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “No, it’s okay. We were pretty much done. Besides, how could you have expected we’d be eating this late?” He couldn’t take his eyes off her. If he sat next to her on the sofa, he wouldn’t be able to help himself. She looked in dire need of a good kissing.

  He needed a good distracting. “Here, have a seat at the island, and I’ll clean up while we talk.”

  She perched on the edge of a barstool while Kirk busied himself gathering plates.

  Finally he couldn’t take the silence. “You wanted to talk?” He shot her a glance but couldn’t read her expression.

  “There are things I haven’t told you.” Lyssa bit her lip. “I think you may have guessed. I was a student in your humanities class at Lincoln four years ago.”

  Kirk nodded slowly, cautiously. “I found your picture in the yearbook. You’ve changed.”

  “I dyed my hair platinum blond back then. Tried to fit in. Basically I tried to be unnoticed.” She grimaced. “It mostly worked.”

  What should he tell her? That he didn’t remember her from class, so kudos on succeeding in her mission? But there was more to it than she’d said yet.

  “It was hard to pull off around Jeannie, though. She always had opinions and wasn’t afraid who knew about them.” Lyssa traced patterns on the granite countertop. “She spoke up in your class a bunch of times about her Christian beliefs. Not just your class either.”

  “I remember. I goaded her into it sometimes, knowing she wouldn’t be able to resist.” Kirk set the plates down on the other side of the island and leaned on his elbows. “I mocked her. And not just her, but others.” “But not me.” True. But only because …

  She met his gaze. “Kirk, I was a Christian then, but I was also a chicken. Still am. I’d grown up around someone brusque and confrontational. I couldn’t handle any more of the ridicule and rejection it caused me back then.”

  He tried for a light tone. “That didn’t stop you from telling me drinking soda was bad for me.”

  “It doesn’t make sense, does it? Healthy food choices are an important issue to me, but, well, to be honest”—Lyssa took a deep breath—“being a
Christian is more critical. I haven’t been true to my beliefs by hiding that very vital side of me.”

  Oh man. He’d pushed her to this point. Kirk captured her hands against the countertop between them. “I’m sorry. If I hadn’t been the guy who thought he knew everything—”

  “It’s not your fault.” She tugged her hands free and folded them in her lap. “It’s not even my dad’s fault, though he embarrassed me half to death a thousand times when I was growing up. I made the choice to take the road of least resistance and simply kept my faith quiet and personal, not wanting people to laugh at me or ask questions I couldn’t answer.”

  What could Kirk say? He would’ve laughed and poked. She knew it, and so did he.

  “I couldn’t imagine the prof I once knew sponsoring a church function, but I was too afraid to ask what had changed your mind, or even to let you know we’d met before.”

  Were those tears trembling at the ends of her lashes? Kirk rounded the island. “Lyssa. Don’t cry. Please.” If only she hadn’t made it so clear she didn’t want him to touch her. “I’m so sorry. I’ll apologize to Jeannie, too, if she’ll listen long enough to hear my words.”

  Lyssa’s lips trembled. “Something happened to you. What?”

  “Well, first it was Dale’s wife.” He took a deep breath, remembering. “There was just something about her. I could never hassle her like I did the students, but even when I did poke at her beliefs, she didn’t take offense. Debbie didn’t have a bunch of pat answers like some of the students. She didn’t need them—she had light shining from her eyes.” Kirk touched Lyssa’s arm. “Like you.”

  She shook her head and swiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Not me.”

  Kirk caught her chin, coaxing her to look up. “Yes, you.” When she didn’t fight him, he wiped her tears away with his thumb. “You’ve done nothing to apologize for. It’s me who needs forgiveness.”

  She trembled under his touch. “What else happened?”

  “That’s the other thing.” All he wanted was to gather her in his arms, but the rational voice in the back of his head warned him she wasn’t ready. “I was back in Jefferson City yesterday and went for a run, trying to make sense of what had happened with you and your roommate. A guy stopped me on the sidewalk and asked me if I knew where I was going when I died.”

  Her shocked gaze met his. “Just like that?”

  “Yeah, it was kind of brash, wasn’t it? But I was ready to hear what he had to say. Ron—that’s his name—sat me down and explained Jesus to me. Lyssa, I asked God to forgive me.” He took a deep breath. “I hope you’ll forgive me, too.”

  “Ron?” Her voice caught. “Did you say Ron?”

  Kirk’s eyebrows pulled together. Funny she should focus on the guy’s name. “Yes. He’s just a middle-aged man who works at the homeless shelter in Jefferson City. And preaches on the street corners, I guess. I’ve seen him around from time to time and always avoided him, but yesterday I was ready to hear what he had to say. Today I brought him home with me to meet my brother.” That hadn’t gone so well. He straightened and glanced around, frowning. Where had Ron gone? “He’s here?”

  “Must be in the bathroom. He’ll be out in a bit, I guess.” Kirk focused on Lyssa’s pale face. What had he said to upset her so? He’d expected her to be thrilled he’d found Jesus.

  A little shuffling sound came from the hallway. Lyssa’s head jerked up, and Kirk followed her sight line to Ron. Then back.

  Kirk cleared his throat, wondering if he should introduce them to each other, but the stare they exchanged proved there was no need.

  Ron spoke first. “Lyssa?”

  Her response was barely a squeak. “Dad?”

  Every emotion in the book flitted through Lyssa. Her father—the man who’d mortified her all her growing-up years—that man had confronted Kirk about his need of God? And Kirk had listened to him?

  She wrenched her gaze from her father to the man standing beside her. “Kirk?”

  Poor guy looked so perplexed.

  “This man … this is my father.” She’d rarely wanted to introduce him to anyone before.

  Kirk glanced at her dad, who shuffled a few steps closer, then back at her. Questions filled his deep-blue eyes. “That’s what I gathered. But there seems to be something wrong, unless I’m missing my guess.”

  Lyssa twisted her hands together. “I want to get something straight. You said you were out jogging and h–he just stopped you on the street and—and said what?” Because it couldn’t be that simple. Boldness was one thing, but Dad had no manners to speak of.

  “He asked if I knew where I was going when I died.” Kirk shot a glance at her dad then lowered his voice. “I did know, and I wanted to change the destination.”

  She couldn’t wrap her head around it. “What made you listen to some random guy off the street?”

  “I was ready.” Kirk sent a lopsided grin at her father, revealing that dimple on his right cheek. “God sent him to me.”

  Lyssa closed her eyes. Oh God. Was it really so simple as all that? Just trust Him to prepare people in advance, and let Him deal with the outcome?

  “I mean—if it hadn’t been for Debbie … if it hadn’t been for you and Jeannie …” His voice dwindled for a moment. “I wouldn’t have been ready. Not last year, or even last month.”

  Lyssa swiveled on the backless stool to look at her dad. “Thanks.”

  He looked so uncertain. So unlike himself. “Lyssa, I—”

  She hadn’t given him credit for listening to God’s voice. All along she’d just seen him as a bumbling, loudmouthed fool. “No, Dad. It’s me that needs to apologize. Today my pastor spoke about boldness, but he also mentioned that verse in First Corinthians where it talks about a series of people leading someone to Christ. My part isn’t the same as yours, but I haven’t been doing mine. I’ve been slacking.”

  He nodded, and his whole body relaxed. “It’s true we’re not all called to be the mouth. I forget that sometimes.”

  She nearly wanted to hug him. That would be a first. “Dad, I tried to call you several times today, but you weren’t home. You need a cell phone, or at least voice mail.” She laughed, hearing the uncertainty in it. “I never expected to see you here. Happy Father’s Day.”

  Her dad looked back and forth between them. The lines around his eyes crinkled. “Thanks. It looks to be one of the better ones.”

  In a few steps, Kirk stood behind Lyssa, his warm hands resting on her arms. She held her breath for an instant. There was nothing between them. No reason remained to push him away. She leaned back against him, reveling in his nearness.

  Kirk cleared his throat. “Ron, I have a question for you.”

  Lyssa peered up at Kirk, and the shimmering emotion in his blue eyes glinted at her for an instant.

  “Yes?”

  “Your daughter is an awesome woman. We’ve gone out a few times over the past several weeks, but, well … you heard what’s happened here today. Everything’s on a whole new level.” His hands slid up and down her arms, arousing tingles in her skin. “I’d like your blessing to court her.”

  Chapter 11

  The doorbell rang. Lyssa straightened her skirt and glanced at Jeannie. Her roommate didn’t move out of the easy chair in the girls’ living room. “A little late for you to be so nervous. Go invite the guy in. I’ll let you know if I think he’s worthy of you.”

  “My dad likes him,” Lyssa tossed over her shoulder as she headed across the carpet. Didn’t that matter more than Jeannie’s opinion? It wouldn’t have only a week before.

  The door opened to a giant bouquet of roses obscuring Kirk’s face.

  Lyssa caught her breath as the heady scent flowed over her. “They’re beautiful.” No one had ever given her flowers before, let alone in such abundance.

  Kirk swept the bouquet aside and reached for her, tugging her to him with one arm. He planted a light kiss on her mouth. “Not as beautiful as you are.”


  She blinked back tears of joy. “Come on in. I should get these in water.” She didn’t even have a pretty vase. What would she do with them?

  “Taken care of. Where shall I put them?”

  The table was set for three. “Here, on the end.” She watched as he placed the arrangement in the vacant spot. How had she managed to find such an awesome guy?

  He straightened and looked back at her. She could drown in those blue eyes, except for Jeannie clearing her throat behind Lyssa’s back.

  “I’d introduce you to my roommate, Jeannie, except that you’ve already met.”

  “Indeed we have.” Kirk snugged Lyssa to his side for a moment as they turned toward the living room. “Nice to meet you again, Jeannie.” He sounded a little cautious, and well he ought to.

  “Hi, Kirk.” If Jeannie’s skin were capable of reddening, Lyssa guessed now might be the time. Jeannie got to her feet. “I have an apology to make.”

  “So do I. No other student got under my skin the way you did, and I’m sorry I baited you so often. God has forgiven me, but I’d really like it if you did, too.”

  “If you can forgive me for being so rude to you.” Jeannie glanced at Lyssa, and a half grin formed on her face. “I don’t want anyone to hurt Lys. She’s the best friend I’ve ever had.”

  Kirk’s hand tightened on Lyssa’s waist. “I have no intention of hurting her. Not ever.”

  Silence held for a few seconds, and then Lyssa pulled out of his embrace. “If you’d like to have a seat and visit with Jeannie for a few minutes, I’ll finish getting dinner on the table.”

  It looked like they could be trusted to remain civil. She could only hope.

  “Nope, this time it’s your turn to prove you can read lats and longs.” Kirk waggled his eyebrows at Lyssa. “You’ve been making me do it every time. Do you still have what it takes or not?”

  He’d been waiting for this day. Every time they’d been out geocaching lately—nearly every weekend—he’d been preparing to turn the tables on her.

  She slapped his outstretched palm, accepting the challenge. “Oh, I am so up for it.”