the glass, he watched as Charlotte and Lucy talked over Amelia’s head. Charlotte draped a long, toned arm across the back of the pew, nodded, and then smiled down at Julianna’s oldest daughter. Lucy turned just in time to catch him staring at her pretty friend through a Red Sea part in the crowd that now assembled in the lobby.
He quickly washed away whatever stalker-ish expression was on his face and turned his attention back to his nephew, who now stood at Cole’s side, finally calmed down.
Most people kept their distance from him these days, but Lucy Fitzgerald wasn’t “most people,” and she was walking straight toward him. When she arrived in the lobby, she hitched her bag up on her shoulder and squeezed AJ’s arm. The boy’s eyes found the floor.
Lucy knelt down in front of him, reached into her purse, and pulled out a stick of gum. “Gum?”
AJ nodded, took the gum, unwrapped it, and shoved the whole stick in his mouth.
“That works?” Cole asked.
“Gum and candy,” Lucy said. “Works like a charm.”
“Good to know.”
She stood now, eyeing him with a raised brow and a half-grin. “She’s something, huh?” She nodded toward Charlotte.
He was a few years older than the redheaded reporter, but they’d both lived in Harbor Pointe their entire lives, so he knew she had a reputation for saying what she thought, for being far too perky, and for writing articles people actually enjoyed reading.
Once she filled in for a sick sports reporter and Cole had to help her muddle her way through coverage of the high school football playoff game. It was the last kind thing he’d done, he was pretty sure.
Amazing how circumstances could turn you into someone you hardly recognized when you looked in the mirror.
Before she left that meeting, she’d said to him, “You put on this front of being this super tough, super angry football guy, Cole Turner, but deep down, you’re just a big teddy bear with a big old heart.”
He didn’t respond to her question now. Instead, he brushed past her and back into the sanctuary to retrieve Amelia, feeling like an idiot that Lucy had caught him staring.
“You should talk to her.” Lucy followed him toward the front door.
“That’s all right,” Cole said over his shoulder. I’m the last person in the world she’d want to talk to after the way I behaved yesterday.
Lucy shrugged. “Your loss, then.”
Cole half laughed. “See ya, Lucy.”
“See ya, Teddy Bear.”
9
Charlotte sat in silence at the back of the empty church. Amelia sat beside her, hands folded in her lap, not saying a word.
She’d been stunned to see the look of desperation on Cole’s face as she turned toward the heartbreaking scream at the back of the room. He’d picked AJ up like he weighed nothing, then carried him out with a kind of care that reminded her of the way he’d been the day of the funeral.
Her heart wrenched. I wish I could help.
That’s when she noticed Amelia, left alone in the pew. That’s when she decided if she could do nothing else, she could make sure the little girl was okay.
“Thanks.”
She turned toward the voice to find Cole standing in the aisle, holding AJ’s hand. She stood. “Sure.” She looked at AJ, then back to Cole. “Is he okay?”
Cole nodded, but he looked slightly overwhelmed. “He will be.” He looked past her to the little girl, still sitting quietly where he’d left her. “Bug, you ready to go see Miss Hildy? She made you an apple pie for dessert.”
Bug.
The nickname endeared her to him against her better judgment. This big, strong man wasn’t the kind of uncle who only saw his nieces and nephew on holidays. He was familiar with them. Involved in their lives. She felt the subtle shift in her opinion of him, but her face remained indifferent.
Amelia said nothing. She stood, slipped past Charlotte and into the aisle beside Cole. His eyes found Charlotte’s—after all, she was staring. “Thanks again.”
“Sure,” she said.
He turned to go, holding a small hand in each of his own, and as they passed through the doors, Amelia glanced back, blinked, then disappeared into the lobby.
And Charlotte felt more helpless than ever.
Monday morning practice was a disaster. The kids weren’t communicating. Cole wasn’t communicating. There was an all-around feeling of I don’t want to be here.
By the end, most of the boys were dragging, so Cole called the practice early, and he didn’t hide his frustration. He didn’t even call them in the middle