Once she had a chance to speak with Marsha and share opinions, she’d know more. Until then, she planned to bide her time and keep her mouth shut.
That concept made her smile. Separately, either task might be doable. Together, they were practically an impossible goal.
NINE
It didn’t surprise Shane to see his mother hurry to embrace Jamie Lynn first. Hugging all the time was a Southern thing, especially among the women, although he’d seen plenty of men greet each other with the male equivalent: an eager handshake accompanied by a slap on the back. And grinning. Lots of grinning.
This time, however, Marsha was clearly concerned. “Are you sure you’re all right?” she asked Jamie.
“I’m fine. My truck, not so much, but I’m okay.”
“Shane took good care of you? And Harlan showed up?”
Jamie nodded. “Yes. Can I bring my dog inside again?”
“Of course. Kyle is waiting to play.”
“I’ll get him,” Shane offered, “if the useless little ankle biter will let me.”
The smile Jamie bestowed was tinged with cynicism. “You should be safe unless I give him the command to attack. Then, look out.”
Shane rolled his eyes. “Right. He may think he’s tough but I know better.” Kind of like his mistress.
“Ha! Wait till you see him in action,” Jamie Lynn countered.
Opening the truck door, Shane didn’t have to say a word to get the little white mop of fur to come to him. He merely held out a hand and the dog responded immediately.
By the time he had scooped him into his arms, Ulysses was wiggling happily, stretching and licking under Shane’s raised chin.
“Hey! That tickles.”
His mother smiled and pointed. “I’m afraid it’s too late to tell your dog to attack, unless he plans to lick my son into submission.”
“Apparently.” Jamie sighed audibly. “I’m really tired. Can we go inside?”
“Of course. How thoughtless of me.” Marsha slipped a motherly arm around her shoulders. “You can tell me all about what happened at the park while I make gravy.”
Following, Shane heard Jamie Lynn say, “There’s not much to tell.” He agreed. That was just as well considering how the latest attack might have turned out. If she had been in or near her truck when the hammer-wielding thug had shown up, there was no telling what might have occurred.
His heart skipped. Sped. Was that going to become her enemy’s ultimate goal? How long would it be before somebody decided that the only way to stop her from probing into the past was to eliminate her for good?
Sentiment argued against anything so drastic. Logic kept insisting that it was possible, particularly if her suspicions happened to be even slightly correct. The portion of his father’s notes that he’d already read had opened his eyes to an undercurrent of immorality that had shocked and saddened him.
Calm on the surface, like a lake on a lazy summer day, Serenity harbored plenty of trouble beneath its sparkling ripples of peace and plenty. Hints of graft and other corruption abounded, although lack of proof had kept Sam from pursuing or prosecuting most cases. The way Shane saw it, his duty was to keep Jamie Lynn from making so many waves that she drowned under them.
And, from the looks of things, he added, watching the women enter the house, his life was about to get far more complicated. Nobody had to spell it out. Marsha Colton Bryce was fixing to step right in the middle of Jamie Lynn’s investigation and get herself into deep, deep water. It was going to be Shane’s job to serve as her life jacket.
If he could have stopped her he would have, but he knew his mother too well. The more he argued against her involvement, the harder she’d fight to continue it.
Beyond praying for wisdom and the safety of his loved ones, there was only one thing he could do. He had to step back, observe closely and try his best to be ready to intervene when the next catastrophe hit.
It was one thing to claim total trust in God and quite another to exercise that trust 24/7, without fail. Shane wanted to be a perfect Christian, which, of course was impossible because his humanity kept insisting that worry was necessary.
“Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief,” he muttered as he passed through the door. That was a scripture he rarely quoted and he was surprised it had come to mind.
Given the challenges of his life since meeting Jamie Lynn, however, it certainly was appropriate.
* * *
Each time she entered Marsha’s house, Jamie felt more at home. And each time she left, more bereft. That was disturbing, to say the least. Her real home was with Tessie. The only thing tying her to Serenity was past trouble, so why did her mind keep insisting she could find peace and happiness here?