in a few gaps. They hadn’t had a happy home life even before Tessa Hollis’s death, it seemed. Tessa and the grandmother hadn’t gotten along. Sometimes her mom had a job and sometimes she didn’t, Violet said. And their father rarely made an appearance.
Colie was slouched in her seat in the minivan now, her arms crossed. Jenessa couldn’t just leave her here. Or could she? If she took Violet and Cade over to the petting zoo, the van would still be within her eyesight. Maybe she just needed to give the girl a few minutes alone.
“All right. We’ll go see the goats. If you want to join us, we’ll be right over there.” Colie didn’t look to see where she pointed. For the love, the girl could be exasperating.
And yet, Jenessa didn’t doubt for a moment Colie’s stubborn, hard shell was just that—a shell covering a tender hurt she likely didn’t know what to do with. For what had to be the hundredth time today, her heart ached for these children and longed to do something more than give them a bed to sleep in again tonight.
But what? I’m at a loss here, God.
The thought was part prayer, part complaint. It’d been a long time since she’d felt any sort of divine direction in her life. Her own fault, probably. But she just got tired sometimes—of trying to say and do all the right things. Why was it her faith at times felt more like a performance than something real?
“Jessa!” Violet’s voice had gone from impatient to downright vexation.
Jenessa shook off her thoughts and couldn’t help a laugh, even as she gave Colie one more assessing glance. Ten minutes and then she’d come back to check on her.
But they only made it halfway to the petting zoo when a voice calling her name slowed her steps. Mayor Milt?
“Ms. Belville, the very woman I need to speak with.” Maple Valley’s longtime town leader shuffled toward her from the direction of the old barn Lucas’s sister had turned into a community center. “A moment, if you please.”
Cade was growing heavy and poor Violet wasn’t going to last much longer if she didn’t get to see her goats soon. “It’s nice to see you, Mayor, but as you can see, I’ve kind of got my hands full and—”
“It’s about the house, Ms. Belville. About Belville Park.” His snow-white mustache twitched with each word, his usual sweater vest a fitting pattern of fall colors today.
“You’ve known me my whole life. I think you can call me Jen.” She smiled despite Violet’s fingernails scraping her palm as she attempted to pull Jenessa toward the goats. “Could we walk while we talk?”
She had a strong feeling she knew what was coming. In a town like Maple Valley, personal business tended to be everyone’s business. But now wasn’t the time for discussing whatever gossip might be flying about her plans to sell the house.
Mayor Milt fell in step beside her. “No, I think I’ll keep calling you Ms. Belville because I’m not talking to you as a friend or even the mayor right now. I’m talking to you as a concerned citizen and president of the local historical society. Belville Park is a historic landmark in Maple Valley. Your ancestors founded this town. How can you even consider selling it?”
“I’m not considering selling it. I am selling it. It’s too much house for one person and—”
Violet’s squeal cut her off as a goat came trotting over the grass, heading straight for the little girl. Why wasn’t this one behind a fence with the others? Had it escaped?
“Ms. Belville—”
“This really isn’t the best time.” Violet’s grin took over her whole face as she petted the friendly goat, Cade’s giggles joining in as the goat nipped at his feet. “I guess one of the little critters got free.”
“Flynnie’s not part of the petting zoo.” A new voice swept in.
“Lucas, I was hoping you’d be here.” She angled to see him nearing, his jeans faded at the knees and his plaid shirt untucked. He certainly appeared to fit in better at the orchard than she did—her bright yellow, knee-length cardigan, striped shirt, and black leggings not exactly farm wear. But she’d needed just one thing to feel normal today. “Who’s Flynnie?”
He reached her side, giving the mayor a nod of greeting. “Kit’s pet. A gift from Beckett.”
Violet had moved to the nearby fence, her hand outstretched through the wood planks that penned off the other goats—the ones who weren’t pets