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  He looked away. Something told him she wouldn’t appreciate it being pointed out to her.

  “Frankie?” he said, instead. “Is that a nickname for something? Frances? Or Francesca?”

  “Francesca,” she repeated with a little snort of laughter that surprised him. “Um, no. I’m not exactly the Francesca type. My Mom’s favorite book is The Member of the Wedding, but I doubt you’ve heard of it.”

  “I remember there was an old movie,” Ben replied. “Julie Harris, right?”

  He felt a certain degree of satisfaction when Frankie blinked her surprise.

  “I watched it with my dad one night,” he said. “It was on the late show, some channel where they play old movies.”

  Mentioning his dad brought a rush of trepidation to Ben. He really had to get back to the cabin.

  Frankie noticed her arm and, with a quick, somewhat accusing glance in his direction, began to wipe the ice cream off with a napkin.

  “Are you done?” she said to Rae. “We’d better go see someone about our cabin. It’s going to be fine,” she hurried to reassure her daughter, who suddenly looked like a wizened and worried little old woman. “It’s going to be just fine. I promise.”

  Ben thought that the little girl would have no idea what it cost her mother to make that promise, and he could see the sheer will it took for Frankie to keep a smile on her face for the sake of her daughter.

  He made a decision then and sent a quick prayer up to the Lord daring to ask Him to bless what was quite possibly the most inane idea he’d ever had. Still, if it would fix the problem and let him get his focus back on why this summer was so important to him—the amends he needed to make—he was willing to take the chance.

  “I have a great idea. You’ll take our cabin,” he said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt, “and we’ll move into yours.” He wondered how he would get his father and their belongings relocated. But the words were out and there was no way he was taking them back.

  “If you can just find something to do for another hour or so, I’ll stop into the office and make all the arrangements.”

  “I need to let them know I’m here,” Frankie protested.

  Ben braced himself to stand his ground.

  “Could we please, Mom?” Rae’s small voice floated up like a hopeful balloon between them. “I really want a nice cabin like you promised.”

  “Please let me do this,” Ben said, nodding his head toward Rae. “I can explain everything to them and you and your daughter can just relax for a bit, and then we’ll call it even.”

  “Even?” Frankie retorted. “What have I done for you?”

  “You’ll be doing something for me by letting me make up for the misunderstanding,” Ben said.

  * * *

  Frankie held Rae’s hands as they took their time looking at the displays in the Nature Center. At least Rae looked, and Frankie was grateful that her daughter was occupied. It gave her time to try to organize her own thoughts, which had been jumping from place to place like a skittish cat since they had first laid eyes on their vandalized cabin.

  First and foremost, she absolutely had to make sure this summer was a healing time for Rae. As well, she had come to Silver Lake seeking to regain and strengthen her own independence, so she was not happy about needing help from a stranger almost from their first moment there. She hadn’t even wanted to accept financial help from her own parents. When she had heard Ben say that the beach community had been plagued with vandalism this summer, she had fought hard against the feeling that her goals for the summer would fail.

  Frankie’s thoughts jumped to Ben. She wasn’t at all sure what to think of him, and at the same time asked herself why she should bother thinking about him at all.

  Yet, even if his physical appeal wasn’t enough to draw her attention, there was a complexity about him that intrigued her more than she wanted to admit. He was apologetic and polite on the surface, though she sensed that something darker simmered beneath, as if he had plenty of his own troubles—or secrets—to worry about... Still, his concern and gentleness with his father was evident, and he had insisted on giving up his cabin for them, people he didn’t even know. What kind of person did something like that?

  She felt an impatient yank on her hand, which meant Rae had been trying to get her attention.

  “Look!” Rae said. “There’s that man again.”

  Had Ben come to find them? Frankie wondered.

  But, no, the man who ambled with a shuffling gait among the displays, poking out his finger to touch the stuffed and mounted animals, was Ben’s father.

  Chapter Two

  Frankie wondered anxiously if she should approach him. Although she knew he shouldn’t be unattended, she had no idea how he would react to her. Where was Ben? Still, she had worked as an aide in a senior-care home since Rae was six, and almost by instinct she found herself moving toward Ben’s father.

  Just before she reached him, a plump woman sporting a large name tag that proclaimed her as a Nature Center volunteer, stepped between them and said rather officiously, “Please don’t touch the displays, sir.”

  Ben’s father weaved his head a bit like he was trying to focus on a faraway noise, and then he gave the standing bear, with its ferocious grimace, a little pat.

  “I said don’t touch, sir!” the volunteer said more sharply. “Please step away!”

  Ben’s father looked confused and his tongue darted out the corner of his mouth. Suddenly Frankie had that swell of feeling she sometimes got at the care home—the one when she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  In another moment, though, any inclination to laugh was shoved aside abruptly.

  The volunteer reached out and clasped his forearm.

  Ben’s father’s eyes widened in shock and rage; his mouth flew open and a horrible cry came out of it. Then he shoved her with all of his might, causing her to lose her balance, stagger back a few steps and topple a display of pert-looking chipmunks.

  Even before she could get to her feet, the volunteer was fumbling for her phone as she threatened to call Security.

  Frankie’s eyes darted around and found Rae, who looked utterly stricken. She tried to smile reassuringly at her, but felt torn between going to soothe her daughter and staying to help Ben’s father.

  Rae would have to understand, Frankie told herself. If she saw her mother being strong and helping someone when it was the right thing to do, it would benefit both of them.

  The other patrons at the Nature Center had drifted awkwardly away from the scene, although, Frankie noted with wryness, they stayed close enough to see how things were going to unfold. She headed toward Ben’s father to offer assistance.

  “Dad!” Ben’s voice drew her attention. He hurried toward them with a look of relief seasoned with a dash of frustration.

  “Dad, I’m so glad you’re safe.” Temporarily unmindful of the chaos around him, Ben put his hands on his father’s shoulders and looked into his eyes before drawing him into a hug.

  His flare of violent temper gone, Ben’s father subsided into his son’s arms like a docile child.

  “I like animals,” he said softly.

  “I know you do, Dad. I know. But you have to wait for me to bring you here. You can’t just disappear on me.”

  While Ben spoke patiently to his father, Frankie watched a slight pulse at the corner of his eye that indicated how stressful the incident had been for him.

  “So, I assume you’re the one responsible for this—this gentleman?” The volunteer had struggled to her feet and directed her question to Ben.

  “He’s my father,” Ben replied. “Most folks know us around here,” he said, attempting to be friendly and smooth things over. “So, I take it you’re new? How long have—”

  “Well, I suggest you keep him under control,” she said, “befo
re he hurts someone else.”

  “He didn’t mean to hurt you,” Ben said. “He’s just...”

  “He’s crazy is what he is!”

  Something flared in Frankie and she stepped forward.

  “These gentlemen happen to be very good friends of mine,” she declared. “And I can assure you that he’s about the furthest thing from crazy that you could ever want! Perhaps you need to work on how you approach your visitors so that you don’t offend them.”

  She looked at Ben, whose befuddled expression would have made her giggle under different circumstances. Obviously, nothing in their brief acquaintance would have prepared him for the declaration that they were close friends. Fortunately, the volunteer’s focus wasn’t on him at the moment.

  “Let’s go,” Frankie said to Ben and his father, who clung to his son’s hand and studied his feet. “Come on, Rae, we’re going back to the cabins.”

  Rae chewed her lip, a sign that she was very puzzled. But she took her mother’s hand and the four of them left together.

  Once outside, Ben held his father by the hand and hurried up beside Frankie and murmured, “I suppose I should say thank you, but would you mind telling me what that was all about?”

  “I work with seniors,” she said, “and I knew your dad needed help. Besides, I hate labels like that.”

  “Like ‘crazy’?”

  She nodded.

  They walked together for a little while, not saying anything.

  Frankie took in the eclectic shops ranging from a hairdresser to a sporting-goods store to a small art gallery. She loved the smell of the air and seeing the tall pine trees.

  “My dad used to be a minister,” Ben offered quietly. “He was one of the kindest, wisest men you’d ever want to meet.” Sadness and another expression that Frankie couldn’t quite decipher flickered across his face.

  Ben’s father had let go of his hand and walked beside Rae, slightly in front of them. “I’m Al,” Frankie heard him tell Rae. “Who are you?”

  Frankie wasn’t sure how Rae would react, both because of the unusual situation and because she had become much more reticent since her dad had left. But she just looked shyly up at Al and shuffled her feet a bit. “I’m Rae,” she told him.

  The two of them continued to stroll together in what looked like a compatible silence.

  Rae was an intuitive little girl, and she could probably sense that Al didn’t mean any harm, despite what she had seen at the Nature Center.

  She also noticed Ben’s stiff shoulders loosen slightly. His handsome face no longer looked as agitated as it had, but still wore deep shadows of the devastating kind of fatigue she knew could overcome long-term caregivers: the kind of fatigue people had when they knew things would only get worse.

  “What about your mother?” Frankie asked. “Do you have any brothers or sisters to help out?” She avoided asking him why he hadn’t placed his father in permanent care. She knew that the decision to do so was very complex, colored by each family’s experiences and emotions.

  She also wasn’t going to ask if he was married and why his wife wasn’t with him if he was. It was none of her business and she certainly didn’t care. She had noticed that he wasn’t wearing a ring, but these days that didn’t mean anything.

  “Mom died two years ago,” Ben said. “Ovarian cancer.”

  “I’m so sorry. It’s horrible watching someone go through that.”

  “I was away,” Ben said tersely, in a tone that clearly indicated he wanted no further questions. He reached up and brushed his hair off his forehead. Frankie found herself wondering why she’d never been attracted to a man with light hair before. Trevor’s hair had been dark.

  “Is something the matter?” Ben asked, catching her gaze.

  Frankie felt her cheeks flush. “No,” she said shortly.

  After another moment, he said quietly. “I’m glad Mom never had to see Dad like this.”

  She nodded. She understood there was nothing to say.

  “As for your other question, I’m an only child so it’s just Dad and me now.”

  “It’s just Rae and me,” Frankie heard herself say, and inwardly cringed a little. She didn’t tell people personal things about herself, especially men. She just didn’t. She rapidly changed the subject. “I’m sure your dad appreciates you, even if he can’t always tell you.”

  For a moment weariness and something darker shadowed Ben’s features.

  “It’s the least I can do,” he said.

  He glanced over at Al and Rae and said, “Is your daughter okay with him, do you think? I don’t want her to be uncomfortable.”

  Throughout her conversation with Ben, Frankie had been able to hear the light, gentle notes of her daughter’s voice, telling Al that she liked Sunday school and that she was allergic to peanuts.

  “She’s doing fine,” she said, and was pleasantly surprised herself. Maybe Rae paid more attention than Frankie thought when she talked about her work and how important it was to treat seniors with dignity.

  “Anyway,” Ben said, “before Dad wandered off, we did go to the office and I got everything straightened out. I asked Paula—she’s the manager—to open the cabin and, thankfully, there isn’t any damage to the inside. Dad and I are fine to stay there and they’ll get cleanup crews for the outside damage as soon as they can. Our cabin is clean for you.”

  “You didn’t have to do that,” Frankie said again.

  “It’s already done.” His tone brooked no argument.

  Well, Frankie reasoned to herself, she could accept it for Rae’s sake. Even if the inside of the cabin was fine, she knew it wouldn’t feel right to sleep in a cabin that had been vandalized whether for reasons of mischief or true malice.

  “You said there’d been vandalism around here,” she said. “Do you think it’s safe for us to stay here?” Her head began to drum out an ache and her nerves to strum an accompaniment as she thought of her parents’ generosity and the promises she had made to Rae. Ben appeared to give his answer careful consideration.

  “It’s disturbing,” he said, “and it’s getting very expensive for the town—all the cleaning supplies and fresh paint. But I honestly don’t think anyone is in any danger.”

  Frankie nodded, pondering.

  “Does anyone have any idea who’s doing it?”

  Ben shrugged in frustration. “No one is saying for sure, but I think there are some kids in the town whose parents have a little too much money but not quite enough time to give them.”

  Frankie had been so absorbed in their conversation that she was surprised when she spotted the Nature Center again and realized they had walked in a circle.

  Ben chuckled a bit ruefully as he noticed the same thing.

  “Dad likes to walk,” he said. “It helps calm him. If you don’t mind, we could make another loop, and this time I’ll show off my tour-guide skills.”

  Frankie sensed the effort Ben was making to be hospitable and how difficult it must be for him to find balance in his life. A tiny piece of armor fell from her heart.

  “Are you okay to walk a bit more?” she asked Rae.

  “Sure,” Rae answered cheerily. “Al and I are having a good chat.”

  Frankie was happy that Rae was comfortable. It was what she wanted for her daughter. But she couldn’t help wondering how any kind of attachment to their summer neighbors—even a minor one—would impact their time and her own aspirations.

  * * *

  Later, while Ben scrambled eggs for supper on one of the cabin’s hot plates back in what had been Frankie’s cabin, he reflected on the interesting turn the day had taken. Scrambled eggs were one of Al’s favorites, but it wasn’t really his dad that Ben thought about as he pushed the eggs around the pan and opened the fridge to locate the bread. He was grateful that the Lord had kept his father safe today, and h
e was surprised at the role Frankie had played.

  He thought about how her direct gaze seemed to compel him to do things like give up his cabin. He wished he knew more of Frankie’s story, but sensed that she would be very reluctant to share it.

  Someone had hurt her and that little girl of hers, of that much he was sure. Despite Frankie’s tough exterior, her pretense of not wanting to accept favors from anyone, Ben sensed a longing that hung around her like a cloak. He could identify with that. No matter how different the reasons were behind it, he was absolutely sure they both carried the burden of regret.

  He had no doubt that she would do anything to protect her daughter, but from the way she had readily stepped forward to defend his dad, it seemed that her protective instincts didn’t stop at Rae.

  She possessed a complexity of traits and Ben realized that he found that very appealing. The kinds of women he had always dated were the ones he had grown up with at church. They had all known each other from the time they had been angels and shepherds in the Christmas pageant, through youth groups and confirmation classes, all the way to some of them getting married and having kids. He had been on good enough terms with all of them, but there hadn’t been a single one he could have envisioned a future with. Maybe that was because he had always felt as if he was playing a role—the role of the pastor’s son.

  He was thirty and had never married. He had never met a woman who he felt he could be completely himself with. Then he had been called to do missionary work, or at least what he told himself was the call. Now, with all he was coping with and preparing for in regard to his father, it was the last thing on his mind.

  Ben put Al’s favorite mug on the table, the one with the picture of a fat Canada goose on it, and poured chocolate milk into it. The rather smug look on the goose’s face always made him chuckle.

  “What are you laughing at, son?”

  Ah, there it was. Ben stopped short against the tormenting bliss of it. It was one of those rare moments of lucidity—he had heard other caregivers talk of it—when your loved one returned for a moment to being the person you had known.