Rescue Me(5)

Jackson looked at the kids and then Willow, warmth and a tiny grin in his expression.

She knew that look. His I-have-a-surprise-and-you-have-to-guess look.

He toed off his boots and walked into the family room. Sat on the sofa.

The kids bounced in beside him.

Terri lowered herself onto an overstuffed chair. Her father took Thea’s hand, moved her to the ottoman. Patted it for Royal to join her.

The kids faced him, wearing an expression Willow understood—like the time he told her he wanted to take her to Disney World.

If not for her mother’s hatred of all things commercial, she might have gone on that trip.

Especially if he’d asked again later, when Mom stopped competing with her ex. When she stopped caring what Willow did altogether.

“So, you know your mom and I are getting married,” Jackson said. He glanced at Willow, smiled.

Willow sat on the floor.

Jackson ran a hand over the pup, calming it. “And we’ve decided that, since we’re all starting out as a family, you should come on the honeymoon with us.”

Willow frowned at him. Her father did have a generous dose of unconventional. After all, he stayed with her mother for nearly seven years. Then, after he became a Christian, he had even proposed.

“We’re going to take homeschool on the road, rent a motor home, and visit the Grand Canyon.”

The Grand Canyon. Willow had only seen pictures, but yeah, it was on her list.

In truth, anything outside the borders of Mercy Falls was on her list. “Are you sure, Dad? That’s very . . . generous of you.”

Her father looked at her. “If we’re going to be a family, we should start it together.”

Gopher squirmed out of his hands, ran over to Willow. She let the pup climb into her lap.

“When?” Willow asked, mentally checking her schedule.

“Oh, next week,” Terri said. “We’ve waited long enough, and we don’t want a wedding. Just a quick ceremony, and then we’re off.” She reached over and caught Jackson’s hand. Squeezed.

The timing wasn’t great—not with the meeting about the new youth pastor position scheduled for next Friday. The church search committee hadn’t asked her to present a résumé, but maybe they didn’t need anything formal. She was a shoo-in for the job. She’d been at the church for three years, tirelessly working with the teenagers.

The kids loved her. Needed her. And the parents—especially Pastor Hayes and his wife, Carrie—treated her like family. If anyone would recommend her, it would be Walt and Carrie Hayes.

Probably she didn’t even have to be there at the meeting. So, except for the upcoming youth trip, which she could possibly postpone . . .

Willow nodded. “I think I can make it work.”

Terri turned to her. “Oh, really? That would be so fantastic, Willow.”

“I’d be glad to. I can’t wait. I’ve never seen the Grand Canyon.”

Terri’s mouth remained opened for just a moment. Then she closed it. Swallowed and looked at Jackson, wearing something of a stricken expression. She turned back to Willow. “I’m so sorry—we didn’t think you . . . well, we know how busy you are, and . . .”

Oh.

“We were actually hoping you might watch Gopher for us.”

Willow swallowed.

Watch.

Gopher.

Her throat thickened. She shot a glance at her father, who looked pained. “Willow, I didn’t think you’d want to come along—I mean, you’re so busy with the youth group and work and . . . I’m so sorry.”

Willow cleared her throat. “No problem. Really. I am busy, and of course I’ll watch this little guy.” She leaned down to the puppy, blinking fast. “We’ll have a great time, won’t we, Goph?”

A lick across her nose. At least someone liked her.

“Oh, thank you, Willow,” Terri said, relief in her voice. “You can even stay here, if you’d like. I know your own living quarters are a little iffy right now.”

By iffy, did she mean the sleeping bag on a blow-up mattress at Jess’s house, where they were holing up after Sierra’s house collapsed from the flood earlier that summer?

“I’m fine.”

“Oh, you’re the best, just like your dad.” Terri was beaming. “C’mon, kids, it’s time for bed. Say good night to Willow.” Terri got up, ushered the kids away.

Willow was going to rise, take her leave when, “Willow.”

She couldn’t look at her dad. Not without tears edging her eyes. “What?”

“I’m sorry. That was . . . I didn’t think. I mean, of course you’re part of this family.”

“I’m not, Dad. And it’s okay. I have a family. You. Mom. Sierra.”