Healing the Boss’s Heart Page 9

  As he drove, Maya mulled over his comment and wondered who he yearned to be with during trying times. Judging by what she’d observed in the past few days, Gregory Garrison felt and acted as if he were totally alone in the world.

  That conclusion made her almost as sad as hearing about her brother’s loss.

  Michael was in the church basement with his niece, Avery, and a group of other young people, sorting donated clothing and bedding, when Maya and Greg arrived.

  “Sorry to bother you,” Greg said, leaning in the doorway and addressing his comments to his cousin. “Maya just got some bad news and she needs to speak with you.” He eyed the teenagers who were obviously listening to every word with interest. “Privately.”

  “Of course.” Michael excused himself and joined Maya and Greg in the hallway. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Jesse’s wife,” Maya said haltingly, softly. “She was killed in the storm.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “I thought maybe Chief Ridgeway had told you already.”

  “No,” the pastor said, “I haven’t seen Colt since last night when I visited him in the hospital. I didn’t even know he’d been released.”

  “He was out at Jesse’s ranch this morning, bringing him the bad news. Jesse was terribly upset. I’m so worried about him.”

  “That’s not at all surprising.” Michael glanced back at the teams of youth working to sort disaster relief supplies. “I’ll drive up there to counsel him as soon as I can get free.”

  “Don’t worry about it right now,” Maya said. “Jesse’s going to the hospital in Manhattan to see his daughters. He wouldn’t be home if you did go to the ranch. He just wanted me to ask you to preach at Marie’s funeral.”

  “Tomorrow’s Sunday. Perhaps I’ll see him in the morning, as usual. If not, I can make arrangements to drive out his way in a day or so and we can discuss what kind of service he would like.”

  “I was really hoping he would come to High Plains for church, even if he has to go way around to get here,” Maya said. “I think it would do him good to be with his church family at a time like this.”

  “So do I,” the pastor replied. “But we should let Jesse make that choice. Not everyone grieves in the same way. He may not be ready to accept too many condolences, no matter how sincere they are.”

  Greg was watching Maya’s expression and was relatively certain when she made the decision to refrain from elaborating on her brother’s marital problems.

  Her lips pressed into a thin line and she scowled. “There’s a bit more to it than what I’ve told you, Reverend Michael. You’ll need to speak to Jesse in person.”

  Michael took her hand. “All right. I’ll get in touch with him as soon as possible.”

  Greg could see unshed tears in Maya’s pretty brown eyes. She stepped back. “If you’ll excuse me, I really need to go see my daughter right now.”

  Greg watched her hurry down the hallway, her shoulders square, her spine stiff. “It must be really tough to try to raise a kid all by yourself,” he said.

  “Yes. But she’s doing a fine job.”

  “I agree. You heard about her house?”

  “Not in detail.” Leaning against the wall, the pastor folded his arms across his chest and looked questioningly at Greg. “How bad is it?”

  “Pretty bad. We managed to salvage the bedroom furniture and a few little things from the kitchen but half the house is a total wreck.”

  “We? As in, you and Maya?”

  “Yes,” Greg answered with a half smile. “We. I had an extra apartment available in my building and we moved her and Layla into it this morning. They were lucky their beds and dressers were usable because I don’t know how long it will be before her place is livable again.” His cousin looked far too pleased to suit him so he added, “What?”

  “Nothing, nothing. I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

  “Not half as surprised as I was,” Greg said. “One minute I was working in my office and everything was normal, and the next I was up to my neck in rain and rubble and practically adopting my secretary and her little girl.”

  “Life can be interesting, can’t it?”

  Greg arched an eyebrow as he studied Michael’s expression. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m just doing my civic duty.”

  “Right. Which reminds me, thanks for the generator. I don’t know what we’d have done without it.”

  “You’re welcome. Do you have enough gas to keep it running till the power comes back on?”

  “Uh-huh. Emergency services brought us some, and one of the insurance companies has a tanker standing by if we need more. They also brought in portable bathrooms and cases of drinking water.”

  “With what ulterior motive?”

  Michael chuckled and clapped Greg on the back. “Cynic. I could ask the same about you and Ms. Logan.”

  “Whoa. Back off, Mike. It’s not like that. She needed a place to stay and I had an extra, empty suite down the hall. That’s all there is to it.”

  “Right. It’s strictly business. You don’t even like her. Is that what you’re saying?”

  Greg chose to stop and think before answering too quickly. He did like Maya. And her daughter. Beyond that, there was his admiration for the woman’s spunk and intelligence, not to mention the fact that when she wasn’t wearing suits and high heels, she looked far more approachable.

  “Let’s just say we’ve become friends,” Greg finally said. “The storm has probably brought out the best in her.”

  “And in you, cousin,” Michael said with a broad grin. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you pitching in the way you have or offering to give away stock from your stores. I’m impressed.”

  “That wasn’t why I did it.”

  “I know.” Michael thumped him on the back again as he started back into the room where his teenage crew was still working. “And that impressed me even more. You’re a real blessing, Greg. To all of us.”

  Left alone in the hallway, Greg just stood there, deep in thought. Him? A blessing? Hardly. He’d worked all his life to earn his father’s approval and had not succeeded. How anyone could see him as a blessing in any respect was beyond him. He was just a regular guy, doing what he could in a bad situation. Anyone would have done the same.

  As he started down the hall toward the day care to rejoin Maya, he began to wonder if that was true. Was he unique? He doubted it. Maya Logan, however, was definitely one of a kind and he was almost glad they’d gone through the tornado together.

  He’d had to think twice about hiring her in the first place, in view of their families’ history of conflict. If subsequent events had not occurred the way they had, he might never have gotten to know her as a person. A mother. A neighbor.

  He began to smile as he added one more definition. Friend.

  Maya knew the instant Greg opened the door to the day care room. She sensed his presence even before their eyes met.

  Tommy jumped up and greeted him eagerly. “Did you find my dog? Did you find Charlie?”

  “No. Sorry.” He ruffled the boy’s hair. “But don’t give up hope, okay. I just talked to the lady outside collecting lost pets. I reminded her what Charlie looks like and that he’s still lost, in case somebody brings him to her.”

  “Yeah, sure.” The child turned away, sulking.

  Maya motioned to Greg and called, “Tommy was helping us make a new sign for the door. Could you come over here and spell the words for him?”

  “Sure.” Greg shepherded the disappointed child in the right direction. Sizing up the diminutive chairs and deciding they might not support him, he chose to get down on his knees at the table. “Okay, Tommy. What do you need?”

  “Nothin’. I can do it myself.”

  “I’m sure you can. But Ms. Logan asked me to help, and I always listen to her.”

  She rolled her eyes theatrically and muffled a chuckle. Greg might not realize it, but he was a natural at handling children now that h
e’d loosened up a bit. He could switch from being a hardheaded businessman to thinking on Tommy’s level in a heartbeat and make perfect sense to the six-year-old. That was more than a lot of adults could do.

  Tommy didn’t look up but he did say, “Okay.”

  As the two worked with their heads bent over the cardboard sign and shared markers to color in the letters, she was so touched by Greg’s empathy for the little boy she nearly wept. That man would make a great father someday. Someone patient and kind, like him, was exactly what Tommy needed.

  Cleaning up the office enough to get by hadn’t been as hard as Maya had anticipated. They’d swept up the broken glass and had placed most of the wet papers in cardboard boxes to sort through them later. Then, she and Greg had moved the desks to one side to allow him to rip out the sodden carpet.

  She held the broken door for him while he struggled to drag the last carpet strips out onto the sidewalk. They were clearly a lot heavier wet than dry and he was sweating profusely.

  “Are you sure I can’t help you?”

  “Just keep the door open and stay out of the way.”

  “Okay, okay. I’m on your side, remember?”

  “I know. I just can’t believe this mess.”

  “I can’t believe how fast we’re getting it cleaned up.”

  “You must be joking.”

  Maya grinned over at him. She’d donned jeans and an old T-shirt for the dirty work and was also perspiring, so she’d tied a cotton bandanna around her forehead. “Not at all. Look on the bright side. We don’t have to do this upstairs, too.”

  “No, but there is still your house to consider.”

  “I told you. We can’t touch any more there until the insurance people take pictures of the damaged areas. Besides, I don’t think there’s much else left over there to save.”

  “You’re probably right about that,” Greg said, wiping his hands on his jeans and coming back inside. “What do you want to do about living-room furniture?”

  “Honestly? I hadn’t even thought about it. There are too many other things on my mind.”

  “We could take a run up to Manhattan and shop for a sofa or something.”

  “Now? Don’t be silly. I’ll just take a few lawn chairs upstairs and sit in those. Why buy new furniture? I’ll probably need every cent I can scrounge or save to rebuild my house. It’s going to be expensive. Everything is these days.”

  “True. But there are ways to cut corners, especially if you know the guy who owns the lumber yard.”

  Maya didn’t reply. She desperately wanted to restore her house to the way it had been, but she was already too in debt to her boss to suit her. If he did much more for her she was going to feel so beholden to him it would ruin their working relationship.

  Sobering and sorting through the stack of damp files on her desk, she fought her emotional reactions—tried to reason them away. Greg had helped her, yes, but she wasn’t the only one, nor was he her only possible source of aid. The church deacons would have provided for her, had she chosen to ask. She knew that for a fact. She also knew that others in High Plains had far greater needs than hers. It was those people who should come first.

  So, what shall I do, Father? she prayed silently. Shall I take Greg’s charity or refuse? And if I do that, where will I live and how will I care for Layla?

  Maya didn’t need a voice from Heaven to answer her questions. It was obvious that the Lord had already provided for her and her daughter. She had a job, a place to live and a bright future in spite of everything. All she had to do was swallow her pride and accept it.

  Sneaking a sidelong glance at Greg she was surprised at how her heart swelled and began to pound. The always perfect, always overly neat man looked so different in his worn jeans and sweaty shirt she could hardly believe the transformation.

  And it wasn’t merely his clothing, she added, half chagrined, half in awe. The change extended all the way from his short hair and sneaker-clad feet to the tender soul she’d glimpsed when he’d ministered to Tommy with such empathy. Like it or not, she was enamored of the man. The only question remaining was how long she’d be able to continue to work for him—and with him—when her emotions were so far out of whack.

  Chapter Nine

  Singing along with the rest of the congregation at the impromptu praise service that evening, Maya looked around the packed sanctuary. Beth and Brandon Otis were there, as usual, accompanied by a sullen Tommy. Many others of her neighbors had come, too.

  There were also nearly as many strangers present as there were regular parishioners. Most looked as if they had come in straight from working on the cleanup, which was no problem to a church like High Plains Community. They accepted everyone, rich, poor and anything in between. If a person wanted to worship the Lord, he or she was always welcome, regardless of circumstances.

  “Please bow with me in prayer,” Michael said as soon as the song ended.

  He thanked God for their survival and the chance for the church to assist those in need, before launching into praise that all present were well enough to attend in spite of the disaster.

  As soon as Maya folded her hands and closed her eyes she pictured Greg. It was always thoughts of Greg that filled her quietest times. She had quit arguing against his being one of the primary instruments God was using to help her, and for that alone she gave special thanks. He had put a roof over her head, given her unquestioning support and had even kept his promise to attend Reverend Garrison’s special service.

  Yes, he and the young pastor were cousins. And, yes, he had chosen to sit with some of the other men instead of next to her, but Maya didn’t care. Greg was here. In a house of worship. That was all she needed to start believing that he was on his way to reviving his latent faith. How could it be otherwise when he had already seen so many blessings come out of the aftermath of the storm?

  Beside her, Layla fidgeted and tugged on the hem of her cotton blouse. “Mama?”

  “Shush.”

  “But, Mama…”

  “Not now.”

  Maya sat down and took the child’s hand as soon as Michael said Amen. “Okay, what?” she whispered.

  “Can I go to the nursery with Miss Josie?”

  “I don’t think she’s here tonight. Her grandma’s in the hospital and she’s probably visiting her,” Maya replied. “Just sit here with me for a few minutes and then we’ll eat supper in the fellowship hall with everybody else.”

  Listening to Michael’s litany of praises and special needs, Maya was pleased to hear that Josie’s grandmother’s injuries were not life-threatening and that the police chief had escaped with only a few bruises and a cracked bone in his arm.

  “We’re also blessed to have heard from Heather Waters about the cottages down by the river,” Michael said. “She’s going to allow us to use them for temporary housing as long as necessary. If you need a place to stay, see me after the service and we’ll add your name to our list for possible placement.”

  He continued with the usual litany of folks who were feeling poorly for other reasons and who also needed uplifting.

  When he concluded by mentioning Jesse’s name and explaining about Marie’s accidental death, tears clouded Maya’s vision. She was having great difficulty accepting the fact that Marie was gone forever and she couldn’t imagine that Jesse was doing any better, especially since he’d spoken with Marie’s parents. They had all met accidentally while visiting the triplets in the hospital and it was then that Jesse had learned why they were in the area. They’d come to rescue Marie from her unhappy marriage. From her life with him.

  In the end, Jesse had reluctantly given them permission to take their daughter’s body home for burial after it was released by the coroner, which meant there would be no funeral service for Marie in High Plains, no family grave in the old churchyard cemetery. And therefore, no real closure for poor Jesse.

  Dear Lord, help my brother, she prayed. And tell me what to do, what to say to him.


  She had already decided to post Marie’s picture outside the church and encourage folks to leave flowers and mementos there as a memorial. Beyond that, she didn’t know what to do.

  “Where is Clay when we need him?” she asked God in a hushed whisper as soon as Michael was through speaking and began to dismiss the congregation for dinner in the fellowship hall.

  Close behind her, she heard a deep, familiar male voice say softly, “I thought you’d talked to Clay.”

  She whipped around, startled to see Greg. “No. He’s still out in the wilderness somewhere. All I could do was leave a message.” Her eyes narrowed. “Hey, weren’t you sitting over on the other side?”

  “Yes. I didn’t see you when I came in.”

  “No wonder, as crowded as it is,” Maya said. “Will you come along and eat with us?”

  “Are you sure? We don’t want to start rumors, remember?”

  Blushing, she answered aside. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that. Several people have asked why we were holding hands down by the river yesterday. Then there’s Miss Linda’s opinion that I’d finally found a nice man, too. All in all, there’s already plenty of talk going around.”

  “Hmm. Sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m a big girl. And I’ve had to deal with plenty of gossip before.”

  “Well, at least you and I know there’s nothing wrong going on. Everybody else should know better, too.”

  Maya managed a smile and silently thanked God once again for that man. It had taken her years to live down her unwed mother status and accept the fact that there would always be a few townspeople who looked down on her because of it. Now, here stood the formerly stuffy, formerly difficult-to-please Gregory Garrison, telling her that he had no doubts about her character. And he clearly meant every word.

  That realization brought fresh tears to her eyes.

  To Greg’s surprise, the other parishioners slapped him on the back, shook his hand and generally treated him as if he were a regular member of their church family. He figured that was probably because Maya was introducing him to everyone in the fellowship hall and he was also carrying Layla, but it felt good nonetheless. So good, in fact, that he happily instructed everyone to call him Greg instead of Gregory or Mr. Garrison, just as he had Maya.